Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 190
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 190
“The young master has fallen asleep.”
Elvia, who had been keeping watch nearby in the darkness, appeared and spoke quietly.
“So he has.”
“It was a rare private moment for you. You must feel rather disappointed. Heh heh.”
At Elvia’s laugh, Petrick pointedly turned his head and answered with unnecessary coldness.
“He’s an insolent brat.”
“The conversation must have been quite enjoyable.”
“…”
Elvia gazed at Petrick with warm eyes as he failed to deny it.
To Elvia, who had watched this entire situation from afar, the present scene was deeply gratifying.
To Petrick, Lala—that lovely child—was like a raw wound that could never fully heal.
If you touched it, it hurt and tormented you, yet she had already left this world, and because her children still remained, he could never bring himself to speak of it easily.
And above all, his guilt over failing to protect his own child was truly staggering.
He could not even bring himself to apologize to his grandchildren.
Apologizing felt like shifting that guilt and grief onto children who had not yet grown up.
But today.
With that one drunken remark Lion let slip, Petrick had been saved.
‘I’m so glad.’
Elvia was sincerely happy.
To her eyes, Petrick was still nothing more than a child himself.
In appearance he was like a colossal old tree, weathered hard and sturdy by the storms of time, but there was a saying: once a child, always a child.
To this witch, the years he’d lived were infinitely short, yet to him those days must have been dreadful.
That he had endured at all was likely because his bloodline remained.
‘Still, it’s about time…’
Passing by Petrick, who was lost in a flood of sentiment, Elvia fixed her gaze on Lion, who was dead drunk and slumped over.
“If he’s left like that, it seems it may harm the young master’s health. Shall I carry him to his room?”
“…No. I will do it.”
“Very well. I shall go ahead and ready his bed.”
Elvia melted soundlessly away from the dining hall.
Thanks to that, Petrick pulled himself out of his emotional flight, approached Lion, and cast a Weight Reduction Magic on him.
“Lion.”
Then he carefully shook Lion by the shoulder.
It was a light touch, with no real intention of waking him, so naturally Lion did not stir.
“Ahem. Nothing to be done, then.”
Having already cast the weight-reduction spell, Petrick muttered to himself as if he truly had no other choice, and lifted the utterly unconscious Lion onto his back.
Feeling the solid, just-right weight settle against his back, Petrick let out a small, private laugh.
‘How long has it been since I carried someone on my back?’
Perhaps properly carrying him like this was a first.
Never in his dreams had he imagined he would be giving Lion a piggyback ride at this age.
It was something that would have been impossible had he not reached a certain realm as a mage.
“What an unfilial grandson.”
The voice in which Petrick spoke those words was filled with delight.
That was because it felt as though he was finally doing, even now, the things he had been unable to do for him in childhood.
‘I must be drunk, too.’
Making the excuse to himself that the alcohol was to blame, Petrick carried Lion, who had grown to his own height, and walked slowly down the hallway.
It was a sight that might have caused whispers if anyone had seen it.
A fully grown fellow being carried on his grandfather’s back.
Yet in this hallway Petrick was now passing through, not a single servant could be seen.
Even if they had seen, they would have been sworn to eternal silence.
It was around the time they reached the floor where Lion’s room was.
“Nnnn…”
“You seem to be coming to.”
Unfortunately, Lion woke from sleep.
“Huh. Don’t tell me you carried me here on your back?”
“Does it pose a problem?”
“…”
Lion was at a loss for words.
However lean he might be, Lion was already a full-grown adult.
He wasn’t particularly short, either… at any rate, he was hardly at the level of being carried piggyback by his grandfather.
“I-I’ll walk.”
“Enough. Stay still.”
“…”
The one saving grace was that his grandfather’s stride was perfectly steady, and his breathing hadn’t changed in the slightest.
He had probably used magic.
‘This is really…’
While that was a relief, the part about not knowing where to put himself remained unchanged.
At Lion’s age, when would he ever have been carried on anyone’s back?
Even when he had gotten roaring drunk at company dinners before the possession, hadn’t he stubbornly walked—on his own two feet or on all fours—and crawled his way to his studio apartment?
And before that, when he was even younger…
‘I don’t think there’s a single time.’
He had no memory at all of being carried on someone’s back.
The first thing he noticed was that the position was quite a bit more uncomfortable than he’d expected.
He had to lean his body at an awkward angle, and where his legs were hooked over his grandfather’s arms and waist, it pinched and hurt.
Had he been fully sober, he would certainly have said it was really okay and asked to be put down.
Yet… it felt strangely peculiar.
‘I just don’t feel like doing that.’
Maybe because he’d poured liquor down almost to the point of blacking out, he felt an odd urge to be childish.
He didn’t even know what the natural way to handle a situation like this was.
His head knew he simply had to stay still… but that was truly not easy.
Things like the body heat pressing against him, and the view from behind his grandfather’s back, were unfamiliar and yet felt so good.
He felt a certainty that there was a solid, dependable presence here that he could trust.
He had acted spoiled and leaned on him before, but this time the sensation was somewhat deeper.
Maybe because of that, the question Lion asked next was an entirely spontaneous choice.
“Grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me an old story.”
“…What?”
Petrick stopped mid-stride and turned his head.
His grandson’s hair entered his field of vision, but unfortunately, he could see nothing beyond that.
Just as he was about to ask what on earth his intention was, Lion added a few more words.
“Did you have a friend you were close with?”
“…”
Petrick let out a sigh at that question.
It seemed the drunkenness had him saying whatever came to mind.
Having reached that judgment, Petrick resumed walking.
‘A friend, huh.’
Naturally, he had none.
Had he not said so? Rickshel’s personality was exactly like Petrick’s.
And Rickshel was a child who felt no particular need to make friends.
Then naturally, Petrick must be the same.
Even decades ago, there had never been a friend with whom he could open his heart.
Not the elf, not the petty thief, not even the Saintess.
However…
If he were to extend the meaning of that simple word “friend” just a little further.
“There was something similar.”
“Really? Who was it?”
“The Hero.”
A person who fought on the very front lines of the war, who never stepped back, and who possessed unexpectedly cool-headed judgment.
While simultaneously being kind and merciful.
A figure whose personality had been quite different from Petrick’s own.
Yet still, the only existence Petrick had ever acknowledged.
“Whether that man thought of me as a friend, I cannot say.”
He had been a person who was equally warm to everyone.
To a degree that sometimes even felt a little frustrating.
“Don’t you think he probably did think of you as a friend?”
“Who knows. He vanished so suddenly that even the chance to ask disappeared.”
“…You didn’t look for him?”
“I did try.”
From the time the Hero disappeared until relatively recently,
Petrick had put a considerable amount of effort into tracking the Hero’s whereabouts.
But he could not find him.
“I gave up.”
Because it felt almost as if that was a message telling him not to search.
Come to think of it, yes.
This person who was almost like a hero out of legend was, after all, nothing more than a mere human.
And moreover, unlike Petrick, he was a deeply affectionate person.
For someone like that to bear the weight of a hero must not have been easy.
“He must have wanted to live his own life, too.”
Petrick opened the door, went to the bed, and set Lion down.
Once Lion was laid on the bed, Petrick even drew the blanket over him quite tenderly, and Lion asked him:
“Don’t you want to see him again?”
“…”
Only then could Petrick properly see Lion’s face.
It looked the same as usual, and his expression was quite clear, but as his grandfather, Petrick could discern it.
That something deep lay inside.
‘I thought he was simply acting drunk, but it seems that isn’t the case.’
But it was fine.
This aspect of him was also his grandson, and it was Lion.
Petrick reached out and awkwardly stroked Lion’s hair.
“I have no such wish. Because a hero—the Hero—is an existence that appears when great danger descends upon the world. That is not a good thing, neither for the world nor for the Hero personally.”
He believed without a doubt that he was living well somewhere.
No, he absolutely had to be.
Because in a short span of time, he had carried far too much on his shoulders.
“And…”
Petrick began to say something, then closed his mouth.
He hoped, if by any chance, that his grandson would not come to bear that fate.
If the world is one that can be preserved by only one or two people, then he thought that letting it collapse once was also a method.
It wasn’t because the person in question might be his own grandson.
It was simply something he had realized on his own during the days he spent alongside the Hero.
“No. The night has grown late. Sleep now.”
Petrick withdrew his hand, stood up, and walked slowly toward the door.
One step, two steps. Just as he drew near the door,
“Good night.”
Lion’s quiet voice reached his ears.
It was an ordinary greeting, but Petrick could not help but sense it.
The heart that intended not to ask any further, for the sake of his grandfather who worried about him.
“…Hoo.”
Petrick exhaled a deep sigh.
If he had thrown a tantrum and demanded to be told, Petrick could have been more resolute, but that wasn’t it.
Neither did it mean he was giving up.
It probably meant he intended to find out by himself later.
‘Truly troublesome.’
Petrick released an inward sigh far larger than the one he let out.
No matter how much he hid things for his own peace of mind, that child’s freedom and will would inevitably turn toward the Hero.
‘Fine. Then, in that case…’
He must not block a child who is heading toward a new place.
After a long, pregnant pause, Petrick spoke in a low voice.
“It was the north.”
“…”
“The last trace I discovered of the Hero was in the north.”
Before Lion could say anything more, Petrick grasped the door handle, opened it, and left the room.
Walking alone down the empty hallway, Petrick’s eyes grew heavy.
Not even he, an archmage, could know whether this was the right choice.
Only.
If Lion were to become the new Hero. If my grandson were to become the new Hero.
I would make sure he did not vanish like a fugitive, as the former Hero had.
I would make sure he continued his life as Lion Asteri.
That was the resolve Petrick made.
* * *
Several weeks passed after Petrick and Lion’s drinking bout.
In the meantime, Lion’s daily life had not changed in the slightest.
His relationship with his grandfather didn’t become awkward, and Petrick treated Lion just as he always did.
Rickshel briefly sulked after losing the chance to exact his petty revenge on Lion, but he soon returned.
That was because he had figured out that it was the Second Prince who had schemed.
“Indeed, nothing is more important to the Emperor than legitimacy, wouldn’t you agree?”
…Apart from Lion having to restrain him when he spoke those words in a chilling tone, nothing else happened.
They were truly peaceful days.
“Looking nicely dried again today.”
Lion inspected the meju blocks that were drying firm and solid, just as he did every day.
Because he had applied Fermentation Acceleration in very small amounts whenever he had a spare moment, they were maturing faster than ordinary meju.
If things kept going like this, any day now…
‘I could make the jang.’