“Why are you acting like this? Ah, I see. When someone has many sins, there’s nothing else they can do, right? Yes, I understand completely.”

Once the red thread was broken, Lucion stopped trying to be cordial with Heint.

To him, Heint was both a good brother and a frustrating one–someone who only took what he wanted while remaining suspicious of him.

“…Is this, um, your true nature?” Heint asked, clearly unsettled as he struggled to adapt.

“Are you referring to my sarcasm?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have a lot of resentment toward you, so you’ll just have to get used to it.”

“I’m trying, but… I really can’t.”

“What part is hard to adjust to?”

“Thank you, brother.”

The sudden comment left Heint momentarily flustered, unsure whether to laugh or feel guilty.

“It’s true there were unpleasant events along the way, and I deeply regret deceiving you. But despite that, I’m genuinely grateful that you treated me as a person and dealt with me honestly.” Lucion smiled warmly.

Heint couldn’t help but wonder if Lucion had ever smiled like that behind the mask when he was pretending to be Hamel.

“See, I don’t know how to handle this side of you.”

“Both sides are me. I am Lucion, and I am also Hamel.”

“How about speaking casually when it’s just the two of us?”

“If that’s what makes you comfortable, I’m fine with it.”

Without hesitation, Lucion dropped the formal tone, leaving Heint wide-eyed in surprise.

“Wow. That was… fast. No hesitation at all?”

[Pfft!]

Russell burst into laughter, clutching his stomach and stomping his feet. Lucion truly had no filter.

“What’s the problem? I just did what you asked. If you don’t like it, I can go back to the formal way of speaking.”

“No, it’s not that… It’s just so different. This version of you… It’s really hard to get used to.”

For some reason, hearing those words while looking at Lucion’s unmasked face hurt more than it had when he was in disguise.

“Do people often tell you that you’re bad at making decisions, brother?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times.” Heint admitted with a sheepish nod, then sat down. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course. That’s why I arranged this meeting. I’m not feeling well, so I hope you don’t mind if I lie down while we talk.”

“Oh, right. How are you feeling?” Heint asked, belatedly realizing he should have inquired about that first.

“I’m just really hungry, but otherwise, it’s manageable.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the doctor said you need rest, young master.” Hume interjected firmly as Lucion insisted he was fine.

The truth was, Lucion wasn’t fine. He felt so weak that he’d need to sleep again after eating the stew about to be served. Although the Sunbeam had healed most of his wounds, the lingering effects of the light exposure were still taking a toll on his body.

So Hume emphasized the need for rest once more.

“I’m sorry.” Heint awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“There’s no need to apologize, brother. Everything turned out fine thanks to you and Hume.”

Despite Lucion’s light chuckle, Heint couldn’t shake his guilt. Tentatively, he asked, “By the way, besides Kran and Hume, is there anyone else who knows your true identity?”

“Yes. There’s one more person.”

At Lucion’s response, Heint let out a short sigh of relief. It was reassuring to know there was someone else who knew.

“Anyway, Lucion, what are you planning to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s about Carson.”

“Ah…”

For the first time, Lucion hesitated, realizing the weight of the topic. As he absentmindedly petted Ratta, Heint decided to take the lead in the conversation.

“If Carson finds out, he’s the type of person who… well, I’m sorry to say this, but he might take his own life out of guilt.”

“Is it that serious?” Lucion asked, startled.

[If anything, it might be worse. It wouldn’t end well.] Russell interjected, his tone somber.

[I agree. Carson would… he’d be devastated.] Bethel’s voice trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

“Carson stabbed you, didn’t he?” Heint asked hesitantly.

“That was just an accident. I was an unknown warlock who appeared out of nowhere, and he was protecting Cronia. Moreover, I had just been attacked by the Hand of Void before that, so he was already on edge.”

“Did you reveal yourself because of those Neubra guys?”

“That was part of it, but it was also because strong black magic was about to activate. If I hadn’t intervened, the territory walls might have fallen. How could I stand by and let that happen?”

“Right. You didn’t have much of a choice.”

Heint empathized with Lucion, but he couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to be stabbed by his own brother.

“Are you going to tell Carson? If you are, I’ll do everything I can to stop him.”

“Not yet. I can’t bring myself to say it.”

“Carson will believe you, no matter what you tell him. You know that, right?”

“That’s what scares me.”

“Scares you? Why?”

“I’m afraid my father, brother, and sister will choose me over Cronia. That terrifies me.”

Just like Novio in the previous world, they might abandon everything to protect him, even if it meant becoming enemies of the Empire. Lucion didn’t want to see so many people suffer or die because of him.

“If you’re worried about His Majesty, you don’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“His Majesty values you deeply.”

“But I’m a warlock.”

“Yes, and right now, His Majesty is working hard to create an environment where Hamel can proudly show his face without a mask.”

“Is that… true?”

“It is, Lucion.”

Despite Heint’s reassurance, Lucion still looked doubtful. Slowly closing and reopening his eyes, he realized what he needed to do.

If what Heint said was true, the path forward was clear.

To overcome the stigma, he would have to bring down Nevast–a kingdom that had branded those blessed by darkness as evil while idolizing those blessed by light.

Nevast, standing as a barrier in his path, would have to be destroyed.

“Did His Majesty say that all it would take was one decisive incident?”

“How did you know that?”

“Brother,” Lucion said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

[Lucion, stop overthinking. Let’s wait until your body is fully healed.]

Russell quickly noticed Lucion’s actions and stopped him. He had an almost overwhelming urge to seal that mouth shut right away.

“I’ll go to the king of Neubra and use black magic to make him confess all his sins in his own handwriting,” Lucion said resolutely.

It was something he had already mentioned to Ketlan.

“So, please tell His Majesty to remove all light-imbued objects from the place where the King of Neubra is. I’ll leave that part to him.”

If the anti-monarchists claimed they could overthrow the king without any collateral damage, why would they hesitate? This plan would undoubtedly compel them to remove any light-blessed items.

Tap.

At Lucion’s subsequent words, Russell slapped his own forehead.

[Lucion. Are you really going to do this?]

“Young master, this isn’t acceptable. You absolutely must not move right now,” Hume interjected firmly.

Lucion, sensing their concern, reassured them with a faint smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not moving right now. I know how to rest too.”

“Good. You’ve thought it through. Considering all you’ve done so far, it’s probably best if I draft a report on the situation,” Heint said.

“A report?”

“Of course. Regardless of the reasons, you were injured, and as someone involved, it’s my duty to document it. It feels unfair, though. Carson was in command, but I’m the one stuck writing the report.”

“Brother, about His Majesty…”

“I’ll tell His Majesty without you rushing me. Like Hume said, don’t even think about moving yet.”

“I’ll do my best to stay put, but there’s something I need to take care of here,” Lucion said.

“Something to take care of? Do you mean the organization?”

Lucion shook his head. “No. There are things I must do as a warlock–things no one else can do in my place.”

“At least you’re not planning to move today or tomorrow, right?”

“Right. Honestly, I’m struggling too. The aftereffects of the light exposure are hitting me hard this time.”

Lucion found it difficult to lift his upper body without Hume’s assistance.

[…Ha.] Bethel exhaled in relief.

Although she understood Lucion’s sense of duty to guide the dead, she couldn’t help but worry about his tendency to act immediately.

“Lucion, can I ask when… it started manifesting?” Heint asked cautiously.

“I’m not entirely sure. But I became fully aware of it after the kidnapping incident,” Lucion replied.

Heint’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly composed himself with a deep breath. Words like “you must have suffered a lot,” felt insufficient to convey what Lucion had endured.

Seeing Heint’s uncertain expression, Lucion let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay now. It’s all in the past. I wouldn’t say I’m completely fine, but I’ve learned to smile through it.”

“Weren’t you… lonely?” Heint finally managed to ask.

“If I said I wasn’t, it would be a lie. But I met some good people,” Lucion said, glancing at Russell, then Ratta, Hume, and finally back at Heint.

“Lucion,” Heint said in a heavy tone.

“Yes, brother?”

“I believe in you.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that.”

“My sword will always be aimed at your enemies.”

“Thank you, brother.”

The sincerity in Lucion’s voice made Heint feel a pang of guilt. Was it truly okay to let things remain as they were without intervening further?

With a slightly contorted expression, Heint asked, “Is there anything you want from me?”

“There is, actually.”

“Tell me. Anything.”

“If I get frustrated while talking to you, can I use informal speech? Don’t worry–I’ll ask beforehand.”

“T-That’s fine,” Heint stammered.

The contrast between Lucion’s formal and informal tones was stark, but Heint decided to let it slide.

“And… Do you know of any good macaron shops?”

“…”

Heint blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

* * *

“…So don’t worry about me.”

After eating a stew Shaela had personally prepared, Lucion succumbed to fatigue and fell into a deep sleep. However, he woke abruptly from a dream where Kran was frantically searching for him.

Realizing that Hume must have been too distracted to notify Kran, Lucion felt a pang of guilt. Kran, being naturally prone to worry, was likely pacing anxiously by now.

Through the communication device, Lucion could hear Kran’s heavy sighs, which seemed to have surpassed twenty by now.

Kran’s stiff, formal tone made him sound like an A.I. reading a script.

“Kran,” Lucion called.

Kran’s voice trembled slightly.

“You’ve worked hard.”