True Education (2)
"You're leaving for the Knight Academy in the capital in a few days anyway, right? You won't even run into Marek after that. Just pretend you don't know. Don't go picking a fight for nothing."
"What? Picking a fight?"
The little brother who used to whine the moment Jerry came near him was now looking him straight in the eye and talking back, even while being shouted at. For someone like Jerry, letting Roy get away with that was simply impossible.
Of course Roy knew that perfectly well. This was a deliberate provocation.
"Where the hell did you learn to talk like that, you little bastard!"
They said a child was a mirror of the parent. Jerry was throwing the exact same words his father had once used on him straight back at his younger brother. Then he went one step further—he strode right up and yanked hard on Roy's earlobe.
"Ow—what are you doing right now!? Let go!"
"I don't feel like it."
Jerry had intended to make Roy cry from the start. But even after he wrenched the ear with all his strength, Roy didn't shed a single tear. Now Jerry was the one who looked flustered.
"Oh? You're tougher than I thought."
"Ah—let go of me!"
Roy could no longer put up with this lunatic of a brother.
Just a house-arrest for a piece of trash like this…
From ancient times, the only cure for a mad dog like this had been the stick. Roy began chanting a spell under his breath.
"A spell? In this situation? Pfft. So you think you learned a little magic, huh?"
Jerry sneered and, with the hand that wasn't still gripping Roy's ear, clamped both of Roy's cheeks and squeezed hard. With his jaw locked, Roy's chant cut off mid-word. The magic never activated.
"You tiny little brat. Get a few compliments and suddenly you think you're some kind of mage?"
The flesh inside his cheeks was crushed against his molars; he could taste blood. But he couldn't break free. Jerry was big for his age and strong as an ox—there was no way a five-year-old Roy could throw him off with raw strength alone.
This bastard's actually lost it.
This wasn't ordinary sibling bullying. He had crossed the line by a mile. Now that he was tasting his own blood, Roy was genuinely furious.
True education was required.
Silent casting.
A technique that formed and fired a spell entirely inside the mind, without a single spoken word. It had been devised so that mages whose hands and mouths were sealed could still free themselves. It burned far more mana than a normal chant, but in the hands of a skilled caster it could be faster. The real key wasn't the volume of mana—it was how deeply the caster understood the spell itself.
On that score, there were few mages in this world who could match Roy, whether in his past life or this one.
Roy quietly closed his eyes.
"Huh? What now?"
Jerry looked puzzled as the thrashing boy suddenly went still and shut his eyes. Then he snorted and dismissed it.
"Playing dead? Puhahaha. What kind of cheap act is that? You think that works on this big brother of yours?"
Roy calmly opened his eyes again. Jerry, thinking the boy had finally given up, eased the pressure on his cheeks.
That was when it happened.
An invisible force slammed into Jerry's entire body. The hands that had been holding Roy snapped against his sides of their own accord. No matter how hard he strained, they wouldn't budge.
"Ugh… wh-what the hell?"
Roy's right hand was already open and pointed at him. His left hand was rising as well. The moment that left hand finished opening toward Jerry—
—KWAANG!
"Ghk—!"
An unseen force hurled Jerry several meters backward. His back smashed into the wall; the impact dropped him to the floor. Agony exploded through his spine. He was lucky he hadn't cracked his skull.
"That's enough."
"You little shit… how the hell did you do that!"
Roy was already preparing the next spell.
That thing is my older brother?
Not a chance. Roy was furious—but he still wasn't going all-out. He only meant to scare the boy enough that he would never try this again. Killing the bastard right here would wipe every plan in his head clean. Jerry hadn't committed a capital crime… yet.
A chill wind swept through the room. A massive chunk of ice formed above Roy's palm. Jerry's eyes went wide with shock.
"W-what are you doing!? Roy, stop it! Haven't you heard using magic inside the house is forbidden?"
"That's rich, coming from you."
"Th-this crazy little bastard…"
He couldn't kill him, but breaking a bone or two would be fine. That ought to knock some sense into him.
No…
Roy shook his head mid-thought. The idiot was leaving for the capital soon; injuring him would only delay the departure.
Roy walked forward at a measured pace. The ice above his hand slowly dissolved, leaving only the Psychic Bind that still pinned Jerry in place.
"What should I do with you? Just erase you right here?"
Beating someone wasn't the only way to hurt them. Language could plant pain and terror just as well as fists.
"Killing you might be a bit much. How about one leg and one arm, then?"
"Y-you're insane? I'm your older brother!"
"I know. The completely useless kind. The kind of worm that gets itchy if he goes a single day without tormenting me."
The moment Roy stepped right up to Jerry's face—
"You've lost your mind."
The Psychic Bind shattered. Jerry had broken the spell with raw mana alone. The reason was simple: at seven years older, Jerry still possessed more mana than the young Roy. Roy's talent was mutant-level, but they shared the same blood—and for now, the age gap still mattered.
"You think you're the only one who can use mana?"
Jerry flooded his body with power and tried to overpower Roy by force. He was confident; physical strength had always been his forte, not magic.
"Wha—!?"
Jerry's feet shot out from under him. An ice sheet had already spread across the floor. He went down hard and gracelessly, unable even to break his fall.
"Ugh…"
"With skills like that, you think you'll last at the Knight Academy? Watch your surroundings. Check what's under your own feet."
"You… you fucking little…"
Whether Jerry was in pain or not, Roy launched the next spell at once.
Water Ball.
Perfect for mental damage.
—Paat!
A formless mass of water dumped straight onto Jerry's head from above.
"Nice catch!"
He looked exactly like a giant fish flopping on an ice sheet. Soaked to the skin like a drowned rat, Jerry tried to scramble sideways—the ice was freezing—but the re-cast Psychic Bind locked him in place again.
The struggle repeated several times. Jerry threw everything he had—his superior strength, his greater mana reserves—at the problem, and every attempt was shut down with almost casual ease. He couldn't even crawl off the one-meter circle of ice.
"Stop—please just stop, Roy!"
"Already forgotten who started this?"
"I'm sorry. Your brother was wrong, so just stop."
"Hmm…?"
"I promise… I'll never do it again."
"And why should I believe that?"
"That's…"
"Fine. If you get in my way again, I won't forgive you next time. Remember today."
"……"
The magic pinning Jerry vanished with a soft pat.
"Oh, and I'm telling Mother everything that happened today."
"What? N-no! Absolutely not!"
"Don't worry. I won't go into too much detail."
"I said don't tell her!"
"Too bad. My choice."
Roy dispelled the ice sheet and every remaining spell, then walked out without so much as a glance at the sprawled figure on the floor, slamming the door behind him.
"Roy? Roy!"
Jerry scrambled after him, dripping wet, but the corridor was empty. Roy was already gone.
"Shit… he's not actually going to tell her everything, is he?"
Looking at the state he was in, no one would believe who had been bullying whom. But with the difference in age and size, Jerry's excuses would never fly.
"If Father finds out about this…"
Jerry stood frozen in the empty mansion corridor for a long time, face twisted.
Roy headed straight for his mother.
"Roy…?"
The moment he spotted the Baroness, his perfectly normal face crumpled into a pitiful mess; he even wiped at a sniffling nose. The acting was flawless—except that no matter how hard he squeezed, the tears simply would not come.
"Mommy… Jerry hyung… sniff…"
"Oh my, my baby boy. What did Jerry do?"
Roy buried his face in the Baroness's ample chest and rubbed against it while he tattled every detail of what had happened with Jerry. Naturally he left out the part where he had administered the true education.
Once she had heard the whole story, Ana Greenhilt could not contain her rage. She shot to her feet and peeled the clinging Roy off her chest. Roy made a regretful little grabbing motion at the empty air, but there was no reclaiming an enraged Baroness.
"That little—I'm going to—!"
She had been looking forward to a leisurely afternoon with tea prepared by her maids. Her husband the lord had been away from the manor a mere four days, and the peace had been pleasantly uneventful—until this cold water was dumped over it. The sight of her precious youngest son's cheeks swollen like pufferfish made the fury boil over completely.
"Jerry! Jerry, you damned brat, where are you right now!"
The thunderous voice shook the entire main building; every servant poked their head out in shock. Locating Jerry was the work of moments.
"Jerry!"
"M-Mom…"
Her second son—mentally still a child, body already nearly grown. Ana was struck speechless. What on earth had he done to end up soaked from head to toe?
"You… what did you do to Roy."
"Nothing…"
"Nothing, my foot! How hard did you pinch the boy's cheeks to make them swell up like that!"
Jerry felt like he was going to explode. He might have started it, but he was the one who had actually been beaten.
"No—I was the one who got wrecked! That little shit only looks like a kid; he's a total psycho! I'm serious! He tried to kill me!"
—Slaaap!
"You expect me to believe that? There are things you say and things you don't. Instead of reflecting, you keep digging!"
Ana could no longer hold back; she cracked her son across the face with all her strength. The blow left a vivid red handprint on Jerry's cheek.
It was inevitable. Given his track record, no matter how much Jerry protested or told the truth, no one was going to believe him.
Jerry stood rooted to the spot, still reeling from the slap. None of Ana's words registered. Then, at the far end of the corridor, a small boy caught his eye.
"Idiot."
The boy mouthed the word soundlessly, looking at him with pure contempt.