Chapter 12
I Turned Five
Leticia Rosenberg.
After nearly dying several times, I have finally, gloriously, reached my fifth birthday today!
Yay, hooray!
Thanks to Moko and the Holy Sword, the attacks from my magic overload have become much milder—but honestly, I’ve come much closer to death thanks to my brother’s overwhelming charm than to any illness.
“Leticia, happy birthday.”
Led by my brother, my father came to meet me.
Since that time, though still a little awkward, he has been trying to interact with me more.
He doesn’t say much directly, but my room keeps getting more and more luxurious, and whenever I casually mention something I want, it somehow appears there later.
So yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m loved.
If I were really just a five-year-old in both mind and body, I might’ve been heartbroken thinking, “Father doesn’t love me…”
But since my soul is forever sixteen, I can simply think, “Father’s just a bit of a wimp,” and watch over him fondly.
Actually, I love seeing my poor father get flustered because he’s not used to physical affection.
“Thank you, Father.”
As usual, I threw myself into his arms like a little child.
He froze for a moment, then hugged me back so tightly it almost hurt.
“You’ve grown so well.”
Held like this, I can really feel my father’s love.
Unlike when my brother hugs me, there’s no sense of life-threatening danger, so I can safely snuggle in as much as I want.
After clinging to Father for a while, it was time for the day’s main event—a hug from my brother.
Calmly. Stay calm.
Whatever happens, I must not faint like last year.
“Leti, a gift from me too. Happy birthday.”
My brother, now eleven, has started to look a bit more mature lately.
His silky silver hair now reaches just below his shoulders, making him look more and more like Sir Celios from “Grand Avere”—
Well, I mean, he is the real one, so of course he does.
But still, when my beloved “Sir Celios” hugs me, it brings such overflowing joy and excitement that I risk literally dying from the surge of magic.
And yet… there’s a tiny part of me whispering that “to die from a hug with your idol might not be such a bad way to go.”
No! I must resist that temptation forever.
If I died, it might become the reason my brother falls into darkness.
As soon as my brother hugs me, Moko hops up onto my shoulder.
Because Moko absorbs my excess magic, the little furball has grown quite large.
He used to fit in my palm, but now he’s about as big as my head.
My swelling magic is quickly absorbed by Moko and the distant Holy Sword.
『You truly do love your brother, don’t you?』
(Of course! My brother isn’t just a treasure of this world—he’s the treasure of the entire universe! That means he must be adored with my whole heart and soul, as the supreme being he is!)
『I still have no idea what you’re talking about.』
He always sounds exasperated, but I think that’s only because the Holy Sword has never actually seen my brother.
If he ever did, I’m sure even the Holy Sword would be hopelessly captivated by him—
Wait, no, that would be bad! If the Holy Sword took a liking to him, he might end up becoming a Hero.
『I keep telling you, my wielder doesn’t automatically become a Hero.』
(But you never know! Once my brother holds you, he might charm even the gods themselves, and they’ll want to make him a Hero!)
The gods of this world are a bit like the Greek ones.
There’s a Creator God, a Goddess of the Earth, a Goddess of War—basically, it’s a polytheistic system.
The one who forged the Holy Sword was Hephatos, the God of Smithing, while the one who chooses Heroes is Rekarte, the Earth Goddess.
So, the sword and the Hero are technically under different jurisdictions.
In this world, a Demon King is born periodically.
That sounds strange, but apparently when too many resentful souls gather in the underworld, the overflowing miasma leaks into the mortal realm and takes form as a “Demon King.”
At first, it’s just a mass of shapeless miasma, but as it grows stronger, it takes on a divine—or rather, human—form.
Since a Demon King is born from the grudges of humans, it naturally seeks to destroy humankind.
Maybe it’s like this: Demon Kings tend to appear after great wars, when many people die.
So perhaps they’re actually the embodiment of the Underworld God Cthonios’s anger—his way of saying, “Stop overloading my realm!”
While snuggling against my brother, I silently pray, Please, don’t let him become a Hero.
Because if he did, the royal family would definitely try to rope him in.
After all, Hero Abel got to marry a princess because he was a Hero.
If the heir of House Rosenberg—so intelligent, so beautiful—became a Hero, people would start saying,
“Let’s dethrone the current crown prince and make Princess Fione the queen, with Leticia’s brother as the new king!”
I might not think that way if Crown Prince Elvin were even half as competent as my brother, but…
“Leticia, happy birthday from me too!”
In the novel, Elvin was portrayed as a simple, impulsive but basically good person.
But the current Elvin—no matter how kindly I try to see him—just looks like a total airhead.
…Seriously, this is supposed to be the next king?
