Brothers, Siblings, and Only Children

Felix Zack Animus's childhood wish had been a simple one. Just once — even once would have been enough — he wanted his father to acknowledge him.

Acknowledgment, however, had never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come. He had never even been praised. Doing well was simply expected; falling short earned him a scolding and nothing more.

A prince, unloved by his king.

The other prince, though, was a different story.

Lucian Zack Animus. His half-brother, born of a different womb. They had sprung from the same seed, and yet the gulf between Felix's gifts and Lucian's was as vast as heaven and earth.

What Felix could never achieve no matter how hard he drove himself to the brink of death, Lucian accomplished as if it cost him nothing. The king's praise, the recognition Felix had so desperately craved — Lucian claimed those too, as easily as breathing.

And Felix himself? A hollow shell, impressive only from the outside. No matter how he struggled, he could never become the strongest. Never the smartest. A phantom who looked as though he possessed everything and, in truth, possessed nothing at all. That was how Felix Zack Animus saw himself.

Felix hated Lucian. And he hated himself for hating Lucian.

And yet.

Even so.

Lucian was his one and only younger brother.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

There is not an older brother alive who wouldn't see red watching his little brother get struck right in front of him.

The one who shattered the brief, heavy silence after Miya hit Lucian — the one who moved first, shouting — was none other than Felix.

In that instant, nothing existed in the older brother's mind. Not the wrong Lucian had just committed. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Not the fact that Benjamin had dragged them out here in the first place. Not that they themselves had been the ones to provoke him. None of it. Not even a fraction.

Right and wrong are things you weigh when reason still holds. And what older brother, watching his sibling get hit, still has reason left?

Felix was already charging at Miya before the thought had even formed.

The problem was that this gathering didn't just have an older brother. It had an oppa, too.

"Kh—! Let go of me, Benjamin!"

"Obviously I'm not letting go. What kind of deranged older brother would stand by and let a fist fly at his little sister?"

Felix, mid-swing, and Benjamin, gripping that fist, locked eyes. Under ordinary circumstances Felix would have been cowed by the other man's presence — but in this moment, stubborn pride alone kept him from backing down.

As the situation spiraled toward its breaking point, Camilla and Crystal, watching from the sidelines, looked like they were dying inside. They knew they ought to step in, and yet they were paralyzed by an atmosphere that screamed they had no business inserting themselves.

They didn't realize it, but ironically, that was the right call. The only ones who could stop an older brother and an older brother at the peak of their fury were, in the end, the younger siblings.

"P-please stop, Brother!"

"B-Brother! Please, compose yourself!"

Miya and Lucian moved at the exact same moment, and only after they had quite literally torn the two apart did Felix and Benjamin separate, agreeing — for the moment — to cool their heads.

"...Does it hurt? Where she hit you?"

"Pardon? Ah — yes. I'm... fine..."

Looking into his older brother's worried eyes, Lucian felt dazed — and then startled to find a small, unexpected flicker of happiness stirring in himself.

To Lucian, Felix — his half-brother — was someone who possessed everything Lucian did not: an object of resentment, and the son of his enemy.

Lucian's birth mother was already gone from this world. She had taken her own life when he was still a child.

Unlike Felix's mother, Lucian's mother had been a palace maid. She had caught the king's eye by chance, conceived Lucian, and risen as far as royal concubine — only to find herself unable to endure the vicious torment inflicted by the Queen, Felix's mother. In the end, she ended her own life.

That had been the source of a trauma Lucian had never been able to sever, from childhood to this very day.

He hated everything. The Queen who had driven his mother to her death. The King who had failed to protect her.

And more than anyone, he hated Felix — this good older brother who, despite being a presence that should have been nothing but repulsive to him, had always looked after him, always held him, always shielded him from the Queen's and the maids' insidious cruelty.

And yet.

Even so.

Felix was his one and only older brother.

"Hah... I suppose the blood really did go to my head."

Having confirmed that his younger brother was all right, Felix let out a long breath and rose from his seat. He glanced across the way just as Benjamin stood as well and started walking toward the two princes.

The two of them faced each other again, regarded one another for a moment, and then bowed their heads at the same time.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

Neither had expected the other to do the exact same thing. They flinched, lifted their heads, met eyes a second time, and pressed on, awkward now.

"This entire incident is my fault. I apologize — for dragging you all out here, and for failing to act like an adult."

"We're the ones who should apologize. We used caution as an excuse and let the rumors about Miya fester. And on top of that, we... we tried to hit her, too. I'm truly sorry."

When the anger is upon you, you see nothing. Cool your head, recover your composure, and the picture comes back into focus. They were both older brothers. Of course they could understand why the other had lost his temper.

Only after watching one girl's older brother and one boy's older brother swallow their pride, own their mistakes, and exchange genuine apologies could the younger siblings — and the two only children — finally breathe a sigh of relief.

"...Hey, Benjamin. About that wyvern earlier... Lucian and I wouldn't be able to take it down, would we?"

We were heading back toward the Royal Capital when Felix asked the question — hesitant, careful, almost reluctant. I looked at him, then at Lucian.

I knew why he was asking. It wasn't ambition. It wasn't a hunger for glory. He was worried about his little brother.

In his first encounter with a high-tier magical beast, Lucian had completely panicked. If something similar happened again, that memory could become a problem that kept repeating. We'd been lucky this time — no one had been hurt. There was no guarantee we'd be lucky again. Next time, the danger would almost certainly be incomparably worse.

Which meant I had to answer his question with a question of my own.

"Are you asking an Exterminator? Or are you asking Count Jenkinson?"

"Uh... the Exterminator?"

"Impossible."

"Th-then, as Count Jenkinson?"

"As a noble, I cannot allow the princes of this kingdom to put themselves in danger."

Felix hesitated at that, then asked in a voice that had gone thin.

"...And if I asked Benjamin? Would the answer be the same?"

Felix wasn't the only one whose eyes went wide enough to fall out of his head. Lucian, Miya, Camilla, Crystal — every one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of them had been listening with their ears pricked, and every one of them stared at me with their pupils blown.

"I'll say this in advance: I'm not telling you this to boost your morale. I simply think you can do it, so I'm saying you can."

As a professional Exterminator, you stop a novice from taking on a hunt they can't handle. That's obvious. As a noble, it's the same. You don't encourage your country's princes to throw themselves into danger.

Set those positions aside, though, and I could tell them what I actually thought.

"The baseline combat strength of the people we usually call professional Exterminators doesn't actually differ that much from students at the Royal Academy. There are a handful of transcendent freaks, sure — but even an upper-rank Exterminator, in terms of raw fighting power, sits around the level of a third-year."

Call it inevitable if you want. Think about it and it's obvious. Most Exterminators learned by throwing themselves at the dirt and surviving. Students at the Royal Academy trained in the finest educational environment in the kingdom, under a proven curriculum, and built their strength that way. What Exterminators filled in with experience bought with their lives, the students filled in faster, and far more safely.

"But you're so much stronger than we are."

"I belong to those transcendent freaks I just mentioned."

"Ugh! Geniuses are the worst!"

"I know."

Honestly, I sounded insufferable even to myself.

"That said, Exterminators have honed their power on the edge of death. In terms of actually using what they have, students can't compare. That's why if you put an Exterminator and a student of similar combat strength against each other, the Exterminator wins ten times out of ten."

Which, turned around, meant that if you could fill in that gap in experience, students could fight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the way upper-rank Exterminators fought.

"Felix is a top student in the Knight Class. Lucian is a talent the Master of the Magic Tower is practically drooling over. And you've got me to cover the experience you don't have yet. There's no reason you shouldn't win."

After an explanation like that, neither prince had any hesitation left.

Felix and Lucian split off from the others and took their positions at the place where they had met the wyvern.

The wyvern's first target would almost certainly be Lucian. Having taken a spell to the hide, its temper would be thoroughly soured — and Benjamin had said that the moment Lucian separated from the group, it would come for him without fail.

True to that prediction, the brothers had only been waiting a short while, apart from the others, when the sound of something cutting through the wind announced the wyvern's return.

Lucian kept his composure, formed several fireballs, and sent them spraying in every direction. Following Benjamin's advice, he wasn't aiming along a line — he was covering a plane, boxing in the wyvern's movement.

The first move is a feint.

Hammered by fireballs that never stopped climbing toward the sky, the wyvern found it harder and harder to stay aloft. It roared once, then dropped into a dive — straight at Lucian.

Felix tightened his grip on his sword and poured every shred of his attention into the wyvern's movement.

The beast tucked its body and came down like an arrow. Then, all at once, it snapped its wings wide — and Felix knew. This was the moment Benjamin had told him about.

Felix rode out the gale the unfurling wings had kicked up, then charged the wyvern head-on. His stance never broke. He didn't brace — he drove forward. The wyvern, startled, lashed its tail at him.

And Felix, who had looked for all the world like he was rushing in to cut, vaulted up onto the tail instead.

A plan with truly no pressure at all, Lucian thought, and loosed the paralysis spell he had been casting the entire time Felix was running.

The wyvern's magic resistance was high — but even so, it should have been enough to freeze it, if only for a moment.

Just as expected, the spell hit, and the wyvern's movement locked in midair. In that sliver of time, Felix scaled the beast's body in a rush and arrived at the crown of its head.

Felix roared, and his blade plunged into the wyvern's skull.