Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 183
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 183
Hoffman studied Lion’s face.
The playful, untroubled expression he usually wore had stiffened a little; the man was clearly rattled.
And that reaction most likely meant—
‘It isn’t that his own recipe was discovered.’
If he were uneasy about being found out, it would have shown the moment he took the potion out.
But his expression had hardened at the very moment Hoffman offered to put his name on the potion patent.
Which meant.
“You don’t want the credit, I see.”
“Ha ha ha…”
Lion answered with only an awkward smile, giving neither a yes nor a no.
Hoffman understood perfectly.
The boy was probably afraid that if he, the eldest son, earned public credit, Rickshel’s position might waver.
“My apologies. I was simply… concerned that something might be wrong with the potion.”
“There is nothing to apologize for.”
The situation could very nearly have turned into a genuine disaster.
Had this potion not been released under the Hero’s name?
When a potion of that caliber developed a flaw, it was usually more than a minor problem.
It might have stained not only the Magic Tower’s reputation but House Asteri’s name as well.
‘He must have foreseen even that before he acted.’
That alone revealed how much Lion valued the family.
Hoffman felt an indescribable surge of pride.
Which was why he had spoken up, hoping to do something for Lion.
‘Of course, I knew he would refuse.’
Still, he wanted Lion to know that there were people in the world who recognized his achievements.
Wasn’t Lion a member of House Asteri, a mage, and an alchemist?
It meant the boy, too, possessed a powerful drive to pursue truth and insight and to use them for the world’s benefit.
“It was truly remarkable work.”
Even if it hadn’t been today, he had wanted to say this whenever they met again.
This was gratitude not from Hoffman Asteri, but from a man who had walked the path of a healing mage out of a desire to protect people.
“Your courage saved a great many lives. It’s only right that I express my thanks. Truly, thank you.”
So you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.
Hoffman rose from his seat and offered his wholehearted respects.
“The greatest thanks I could think of was putting your name on the patent, but if that doesn’t suit you, tell me what you want. I will grant anything.”
“Hmm…”
Lion, the very person at the heart of all this, merely wore an awkward smile and said nothing.
The truth was that, from Lion’s standpoint,
this had been a small act of goodwill.
And an act of goodwill with an ulterior purpose at that. If House Asteri were shaken, wouldn’t Lion’s flower bed wilt too?
He’d merely lent a hand to prevent that in advance.
Besides, hadn’t he designed it so that its effects were inevitably a little weaker than the Hero’s Potion?
‘The maker is different, after all.’
He had adjusted the formula so that the Magic Tower’s alchemists could produce it as easily as possible, so its efficacy didn’t match the original.
Well, the story would change if it were taken long-term, but that was the reality of it.
Perhaps that was why he had never dreamed goodwill would come back around to him like this.
“Something I want…”
“Yes. Speak freely.”
Hoffman paused mid-sentence as one more thought struck him and added,
“Whatever you ask for, I will not report it to the Family Head.”
“Not even to Grandfather?”
Even for Hoffman, that had to be a considerable burden.
No—precisely because he was Hoffman, who admired Grandfather, the resolve required must have been even greater.
In any case, he had clearly made up his mind.
‘In that case…’
Lion sifted through several ideas floating in his head.
He ruled out anything he still couldn’t reveal to anyone, and narrowed things down to what would be a little difficult but still obtainable at Hoffman’s level.
‘I’ll go with that.’
As Lion grew more deliberate, Hoffman smiled inwardly.
‘It seems this was the right approach.’
He was already aware that House Asteri was granting Lion whatever he wanted.
If that were the case, the odds were high that Lion had no material wants left.
But turned around, that also meant every object Lion possessed had been conveyed with the Family Head’s permission.
‘For a free spirit like him, that might be a little stifling.’
Hence the cunning offer.
To help him obtain what he wanted discreetly, without reporting it.
Secret gifts at his age might seem a bit ridiculous, but Hoffman was sincere.
Had he not watched Lion’s childhood more closely and more dispassionately than anyone?
The freedom Lion had finally gained was surely more important than any worldly advancement.
And Hoffman wanted to use this, even this, to do something for him.
‘And if possible…’
He wanted to see just how far this fellow would soar, and what other staggering things he would invent and discover along the way.
It wasn’t simply the excitement of spotting a genius.
This was… yes.
It was a distinctly different texture, but in Lion he had glimpsed the image of the Family Head whom he so deeply admired.
“You won’t report it, no matter what I request?”
“No. If you wish, I can even draw up a contract developed by the Magic Tower.”
As if he’d been waiting for the question, Hoffman produced a contract from his breast pocket.
“That won’t be necessary. I trust you will keep the secret.”
Instead of accepting the contract, Lion secured a second promise that the secret would never be divulged.
“Good. What is it you want?”
“Do you perhaps know the magic shop in front of the Academy?”
“The one in front of the Academy… Ah.”
He had received reports about it.
An unlicensed mage selling items of unknown provenance to students.
At first, worried they might be dangerous, the Magic Tower had investigated, but the conclusion…
‘Toys.’
Items perfect for wealthy Academy students to play with—nothing more, nothing less.
Besides, the prices were quite reasonable, so they had left the shop alone.
“Yes. There is such a person.”
“He sells a lot of interesting things. And so, since I’m already confined to the estate anyway… I’d like to look through the goods from that shop.”
“…That is all you want?”
After all this talk of secrecy, all he wanted was those questionable magic tools?
“Yes. Grandfather wants me to rest thoroughly, after all. Ha ha ha.”
Hoffman let out a sigh, his energy draining away.
Yes. To Lion, such things might well seem more valuable than all the countless mana stones and gems in the world.
‘…No. This is actually for the best.’
Ingenious ideas, after all, tended to emerge from leisurely rest.
Who could say? Perhaps playing with those toys would spark some new and extraordinary idea.
“Understood. I’ll schedule your next examination for a few days from now and deliver them then.”
“Thank you! Ah, and do you happen to know when Grandfather will be away on business? Some fine liquor just arrived, and I was wondering when to open it.”
“Liquor is not good for the body, but…”
The Family Head would certainly be pleased.
“Ahem. He is scheduled to depart on business in a few days, so it would be best to plan for after that.”
“I see. Thank you.”
Lion smiled slyly, hiding his true thoughts.
Ah, well, the magic tools genuinely tempted him.
How many times had he benefited from My Spitting Image?
‘If the Second Prince had figured out my identity.’
The more disguise tools he could stockpile, the better.
And on top of that—
‘There are some good items hidden away there, too.’
If he poked around and grabbed a little of this and that, he might luck into a decent item or two.
‘Though the things I really need are different…’
Hoffman could probably obtain them, but Lion had ruled them out because the cost would be substantial.
“Now, go back and rest. I will report to the Family Head.”
Hoffman watched Lion leave the room with a word of thanks and shook his head.
For now, if the boy said he liked toys, he would bring him toys, but…
‘He really ought to start learning the ways of the world.’
With that thought, Hoffman made his way toward the Family Head’s room.
* * *
A few days later.
While Lion was passing tedious days under house arrest,
Rickshel moved stealthily in the deep of night and arrived at one location.
That location was none other than the door to the Family Head’s room.
Petrick was currently away in the North on business, so the office was, quite literally, empty.
“…”
Rickshel swallowed dryly.
It was a natural response born of knowing that what he was about to do was wrong.
No matter how many heir lessons Rickshel had taken or how much magical training he had done, he had never once tried to secretly steal something belonging to someone else.
Especially if that something was a potion his brother had made and given to the Family Head as a gift—all the more so.
A part of him couldn’t help wondering: should he, even now, simply wait until his brother chose to tell him the truth someday?
‘No.’
Rickshel steeled his wavering resolve.
If he settled for inaction, far from protecting or helping his brother, he would only become a weight around his ankles.
He didn’t want that.
Rickshel wanted to be someone who helped—just as he had always been.
To do that, he had to draw closer to the truth by whatever means.
And that first step began with analyzing “that potion” the Family Head was keeping.
“Hoo.”
Rickshel set his jaw and grasped the door handle.
Then, slowly and with utmost stealth, he slipped inside.
Click.
The door closed with a small noise, and the dark interior of the Family Head’s room opened before him.
Rickshel stood still for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
If he used magic carelessly, the risk of the Family Head discovering him was high.
Even away in the North, the man was perfectly capable of sensing traces of mana in his own room.
As Rickshel waited…
Rustle.
A presence stirred somewhere nearby.
The sound was faint, but Rickshel’s nerves were strung taut enough to catch it.
‘An intruder?’
Here? In the room of Petrick Asteri, the greatest mage alive?
This was trouble of an entirely different order.
For anyone to slip through House Asteri’s rigorous security and reach this room meant they were no ordinary skilled operative…
‘Wait.’
Would someone like that make a sound?
Another thought surfaced in Rickshel’s mind.
Wasn’t there one person?
One person who could enter Petrick Asteri’s room whenever they pleased.
That is, someone who could do something like this and get away with nothing worse than a scolding.
Rickshel strode toward the source of the sound and bent down.
Sure enough—
“Brother?”
“Shh!”
Lion raised his index finger for silence, then went back to rummaging through something, crouched wretchedly under the desk.
‘Did he read my thoughts and come to tamper with the evidence?’
…Probably not. Brother wouldn’t do that.
In the end, Rickshel abandoned his original objective and sank down next to Lion.
“Why are you here?”
“I was bored. I can’t go out, and they told me to stay out of the kitchen.”
But no one told me not to enter the Family Head’s room, right?
“…”
No, they probably didn’t. Because who would dare sneak in here?
But Rickshel couldn’t say that aloud.
He had snuck in himself, after all.
“More importantly, look at this.”
Lion spoke with an air of perfect nonchalance and abruptly thrust something toward Rickshel.
It was…
“This is—”
“Grandfather’s diary.”