Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 111
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 111
“You fell from the sky?”
“Yes.”
“Right in front of a rampaging wolf beastfolk?”
“Exactly so.”
“You…”
Lion looked back and forth between Petrick and Rickshel with an aggrieved expression.
Whenever he tried to say anything, Petrick raised a hand to stop him.
And in that gap, Rickshel laid out Lion’s atrocities in excruciatingly vivid detail.
All Lion could do during that denunciation session was slip desperate excuses into the briefest pauses.
“Elvia did put Shock Absorption Magic on me, you know?”
The mood didn’t improve with each excuse he made, but in any case, every excuse served a purpose.
And in truth, Lion was perfectly fine aside from being a little sparkly after getting covered in Moonflower Pill Powder.
So it was fine, wasn’t it?
‘I had no choice if I wanted to get there even one second faster, okay?’
From what he’d seen from the sky, that moment had been the absolute last second, hadn’t it?
The protective barrier was about to tear apart, and Rickson’s sword had snapped feebly.
So he himself had chosen the most efficient and humane method in that situation, but…
“It was reckless.”
“Reckless. Did you know what would happen?”
The explanation that followed was that Shock Absorption Magic absorbed a certain amount of the impact—it didn’t block it completely.
‘Hoo.’
Lion gave up on making excuses in the face of their quickening pace and sat meekly on the sofa.
After he endured a massive bout of scolding like that, as the storm ebbed into a brief lull…
“Heh heh. You two shouldn’t be so harsh. How exhausted must the young master be.”
Elvia spoke calmly as she refilled the empty teacups with tea.
Had someone finally taken my side?
Right. Elvia would at least understand!
“Even with the shock absorbed, his body must have been greatly startled. Aah, to think he plummeted from such a great height.”
Huh?
“And in one scene, I very nearly did something terrible to that young knight, she said. Regrettably, I could have ruined the young master’s plan…”
Ah.
Not on my side after all.
And what was that about almost ruining the plan?
If it had gotten a little more dangerous, Varg’s head might have popped off in an instant.
Lion rubbed his forearms at the goosebumps prickling his skin.
“Be that as it may, the outcome was a good one, wasn’t it. The young masters did gain valuable experience from it.”
Elvia glanced sideways at the thoroughly deflated Lion, then lifted a blanket and draped it over his shoulders.
However, Rickshel apparently still thought his denunciation of his brother was insufficient.
“Valuable? It was something that should never have happened. My brother’s combat capabilities…”
He stopped himself just as he was about to say “are nonexistent.”
‘Could I truly call them nonexistent?’
Barely any time had passed since he began handling spirits, and he had already figured out how to fly.
Seeing as he’d never shown it before, he must have realized and cast it on the spot.
And that medicine made from Moonflowers, and the powder that was still fluttering off his brother’s body now.
He had used them appropriately according to the situation.
As his brother had explained in his defense, he must have deliberately fallen from the sky so the powder could spread more widely and evenly.
‘In the end, my brother personally saved Varg’s life.’
He might have unconsciously known that Lion
had only done something he was fully capable of.
The one uneasy at that sight was none other than Rickshel himself.
Perhaps he had been overly emotional.
‘…But still.’
Rickshel’s calm rationality and searing emotion collided within him.
“Heh heh. I’ve made a needless fuss. I will bring more tea.”
Elvia, catching on, looked at the three of them with affectionate eyes and then withdrew.
And then… tap, tap.
She lightly tapped Lion’s back with her index finger.
It meant that now was his opening.
‘Honestly.’
Lion looked at Rickshel’s expression and gave a soft snicker.
He’d been momentarily flustered because it was the first time he’d been in this kind of situation.
But from his little brother’s point of view, wasn’t it only natural to worry?
His heart must have dropped.
‘Right. Whatever the result might have been.’
The words “Anyway, it all worked out, so isn’t that enough?” were not wrong.
But they were irrelevant right now.
There were people who worried about him.
And so, about the heart that worried when he acted recklessly…
“I’m sorry. I was only thinking of myself.”
Right. He had to know how to apologize too.
An apology to the heart that held him dear.
“And thank you. I was able to save Varg thanks to you.”
And gratitude—gratitude had to be expressed with everything he had, whenever he could.
“I… I…”
At the sight of that sincere apology delivered with a grave expression, Rickshel’s words choked completely.
He had not wanted an apology.
He had simply resented his brother for not understanding his heart.
So there was some childishness in it too.
He had thrown an emotional tantrum without speaking properly.
“Ahem.”
Watching this, Petrick covered his mouth with a fist and gave a dry cough.
“You worried a great deal too, didn’t you, Grandfather?”
“That won’t work on me.”
Truthfully, it did work.
That was the problem.
‘How is it that his reckless antics are exactly like that child’s?’
He seemed to have forgotten that he himself was the source of that bloodline.
Petrick pondered for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.
When the two of them thus stepped back a pace, Lion quickly added his reason.
“The situation was so urgent that I couldn’t think of anything else. I won’t ever do something like this again.”
“…It is enough that you understand. But if you act this recklessly next time as well, then I will impose a punishment.”
“Yes. I’ll be careful not to get punished.”
Lion lightened the mood at the end and slurped his tea.
“Urk.”
The tea was so bitter it stung his tongue.
[Witch’s Bitterness]
-Did you know? They say a Witch gives cookies to good children and terribly bitter tea to bad children.
-Still, it’s good for you, so squeeze your eyes shut and drink it all down.
“…”
He glanced at the tea—his own cup was conspicuously black.
This was practically herbal medicine, not tea.
‘So hopeless.’
A small bit of peevishness and excessive worry.
…It wasn’t unpleasant at all.
Just as instructed, Lion squeezed his eyes shut and emptied all the tea.
Unexpectedly, the bitter tea’s aftertaste was sweet.
* * *
At any rate, after being thoroughly showered with his family’s affectionate reproach.
Lion set out for the village while lightly humming a tune.
Under his arm was the barley malt, completely dried crisp by the sun and wind.
‘They said Varg would take a few days to recover.’
Rickshel and Rickson had said they’d be busy for a while dealing with the collapsed forest and matters regarding Varg.
And Grandfather—well. That went without saying.
“So what you’re saying is, I’ve got free time.”
More than a month had passed since he came down to the village.
Lion had also accumulated quite a list of things to do.
‘I’m pretty busy in my own way. Hmm.’
First, he had to go mill the well-dried barley malt, and he also needed to go to the orphanage and ask about that priest.
‘Because I need to know about the Seal.’
He didn’t know the reason, but that priest named Licht he’d met last time had been more friendly than expected, so he would probably tell him something.
Of course!
The most urgent matter of all was naturally passing on the news of Mudu’s family to him.
‘How curious must he be.’
Knowing Mudu’s personality, he would have deliberately pretended not to care.
In reality, he was obviously so curious that the work must have been slipping from his grasp.
Lion headed straight for the smithy.
And then…
“Oh! You’ve come! You’ve finally come!”
The blacksmith’s hand spotted Lion first and headed to the very back of the smithy to fetch Mudu.
“Big brother! The young master is here!”
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Before the hand could even finish speaking, the rapid patter of short legs came from far away.
It was the sound of Mudu running over.
“You crazy rascal! What took you so long!”
“Haha. I had various things going on.”
“Various things?”
“It might be a long story.”
“Right. I see.”
Mudu grabbed Lion’s hand and headed to the rear of the smithy.
“So—was there any trouble? For the villagers?”
“Sit down first.”
Lion sat with Mudu on the short chairs and then began telling the story of what happened in the dwarf village.
When he told the story about meeting Stride at the tavern…
“That guy, he might be a dwarf but even so! To guzzle alcohol like that.”
Mudu’s words came out roughly from the worry he felt for his younger brother, and when Lion told him he’d let his parents know about the children named Branch and Leaf, his expression couldn’t hide his longing.
“They must have been so happy. I’ll have to go see them sometime.”
“And…”
When he told him of the village’s problems, Mudu fell silent with bitterness.
“Such a thing happened, then.”
“But it was resolved.”
“What? How? That bunch of stubborn dwarves?”
Lion gave a soft snicker and took the tool out of his bag.
“Mudu, it was thanks to the tools you made for me.”
“…”
Mudu tilted his head for a moment as if he didn’t understand, but soon his eyes and nose flared bright red.
He had understood.
“When they heard Mudu, who only ever made swords, had made tools for people, they said inspiration struck them. They were all missing you.”
“Hic. Hmph!”
Mudu gave his nose a hearty blow with the tattered towel he used for wiping iron dust and laughed.
He looked quite relieved, so Lion laughed along with him.
“Anyway, don’t worry about the village any more. It’ll regain its vitality before long.”
Lion finished speaking and rose from his seat.
“Leaving already?”
“I have to stop by the mill.”
“The mill? Now that I look…”
Mudu finally looked at the basket that had been in Lion’s hand the whole time.
Inside it was…
Barley sprouts?
“Did you learn a new brewing technique in the Bydantis territory? For someone of your standing, that’s quite something.”
Mudu elbowed Lion’s side lightly, thump-thump.
“It’s a beer ingredient, isn’t it. I know because I know a thing or two myself about alcohol.”
“Huh? No, it isn’t.”
“What do you mean no! You’re an adult now, so there’s no need to be embarrassed.”
“…”
That was already the second misunderstanding.
Lion didn’t say anything else and just grinned.
Being misunderstood wasn’t particularly important.
“Anyway, I’d better get going.”
“Right. Right. That’s an extremely important time.”
Chuckling, Mudu saw Lion off to the front of the smithy.
While receiving that send-off, Lion let out a small “Ah” as if remembering something.
“A crate will be coming to the smithy soon.”
“A crate? Is it yours?”
“No. Yours.”
“Huh?”
At his puzzled expression, Lion answered as if it were nothing.
“Bydantis-Made Snow-Mountain Iron Ingot. The Marquis of Bydantis arranged it for you.”
…She called it a bribe, but expressing it as a gift was fine.
“I see… Wha, whaaaaat!?”
“Well then.”
Mudu watched Lion depart, his jaw dropping open.
Snow Mountain Iron from House Bydantis!
It was one of the biggest reasons the dwarf village was in the Bydantis territory.
It was a high-grade material that no one could dare to so much as touch it unless they were connected to Bydantis.
Its hardness was said to be at a level that could withstand a Sword Master’s Aura…!
‘A-and he’s giving that to me?’
Mudu tugged at his beard, suppressing the laughter that was about to burst out.
“Thaaaaank you! From now on, I’ll use this stuff for every commission of yours!”
Lion glanced back at Mudu and smirked.
He hadn’t intended this.
He’d just given him a little something in case Mudu was feeling lonely.
“I’d love it if you did!”
There was no need to refuse goodwill.
Lion showed a broad grin.