Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Errand Boy for Love Letters
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I once saw my father getting a massive scolding from my mother.
It wasn't anything big. Just her telling him to cut back on those damn cigarettes.
“You, again! Hand it over. Didn't I say I'd break your wrist if I caught you smoking in the study one more time?!”
“S-Sorry. I swear I won't smoke again.”
Mother suffering from the cigarettes, Father suffering from quitting.
And me, currently suffering from ferrying love letters to my brother.
Sob sob. Mother. Your precious baby boy is out here running errands like a messenger!
If even one of these had been addressed to me, I wouldn't feel so hard done by.
They must see me not as a little brother, but as a damn postman.
Hell, if you're gonna make me do this, at least tip me for the service.
Do that, and I could even offer same-day express delivery.
- To Young Master Douglas Reinhardt -
- Great Hero of the Empire, My Eternal Ideal -
“...”
Whoa. Just reading the envelope is already giving me a headache.
My brother gets dozens of these a day—how the hell does he cope?
Maybe he just uses them as kindling the second he gets them?
“Richi! If you've got nothing to do, wanna join the club with— Hey. What's that?”
“Love letters.”
“Love letters? As in, romance ones? Wha— Gah?! Gaaaaah?!”
What's Enter's deal? Did they spike the academy cafeteria food with drugs or something?
“No way! Richi Reinhardt, who never had a single lady interested, turns out to be the academy's top heartthrob?!”
What kind of light novel dialogue is that?
This guy's a possessor too, isn't he?
“Enter. Say one more dumb thing, and I might just beat you like a dog.”
“Grrr! Woof! Arf arf!”
Should I just beat this mutt until he learns some manners?
“Sorry. But seriously, those are love letters for you? All of them?”
“They're addressed to me, yeah. But the recipient's my brother, not me.”
Enter drops the joking and lets out an “Aah” with a sigh.
But why's he suddenly looking at me with those pitying eyes again?
“Why are you looking at me like a drowned puppy again?”
“Eh. Just... you're pitiful, and I'm pitiful.”
“I'm not jealous of my brother at all.”
“Isn't a strong denial just a strong affirmation in disguise?”
“You're twisting that into 'I wanna get beat hard.' Shut your trap.”
“Gack.”
No need to overthink it—I gave Enter a firsthand lesson in respect.
Lie there and reflect, you jerk. Not because I told him about my hair loss or anything.
Douglas Reinhardt. My brother. And commander of the Imperial Army's 1st Cavalry Division.
Not even forty—he just hit thirty, and he's already there.
Too fast a promotion? Nah, if anything, it's overdue given his battle record.
Rescued surrounded allied forces and created a salient that crushed the Koenihesen army.
A single cavalry regiment wrecked a whole enemy corps and captured the corps commander's subordinates.
That shifted the entire theater decisively in our Empire's favor.
Oh, and all that insane achievement? In just two years.
No wonder the Koenihesen guys call him a “demon risen from hell.”
But that demon? Kinder than anyone in everyday life.
They say brothers fight, hit, get hit—but he's never done that to me.
Not even violence; he rarely even raises his voice.
And he's the same with everyone else.
Heir to the prestigious Reinhardt family, handsome, great personality, war hero.
Of course the daughters of other houses are all over him.
I just hate how they keep using me as their errand boy for it.
“Must be tough having such amazing family members.”
Enter mutters while glancing at the stack of letters for my brother.
Hey, jealous? Just say you're jealous. For the record, I'm not.
“Enter. Don't they teach quiet in the library?”
“Your voice is louder.”
Can't argue with facts. Jerk.
Anyway, he's right—my brother, father, grandfather... they're all incredible.
To begin with, Grandfather had saved both the Empire and our demi-human allies from Koenihesen’s all-out invasion.
His merit earned him the unprecedented rank of Field Marshal.
He's retired from the front lines now, but his name still sways the Empire hugely.
Father shook off the burden of that fame and shone brightly.
Massive contributions in the first war with Koenihesen got him promoted to Marshal.
He's currently Imperial Army Marshal and Allied Forces Supreme Commander too.
And my brother? I already covered him, so skip.
“Meanwhile, our little Richi is still a baby. Just a baby.”
“...Not embarrassed saying that out loud yourself?”
“Nope. Not at all. I hope everyone sees me as a baby. Goo goo.”
“Good lord. To think this is the Reinhardt second son. End times, end times.”
Sorry that this is the Reinhardt second son!
But what can you do? You're the Prize family runt! Jealous? Get reborn!
“Ah, there he is.”
What’s there? Who’s chatting up the sacred library—
“Found you, Richi. Took a while to track you down.”
“Lester? Michel?”
Why are these guys, slaving away in the Officer Department, in the library?
Shouldn't they be getting dragged around the training grounds by seniors right now?
Plop!—
...Huh?
“Our glorious future war hero, His Excellency Richi Reinhardt. Please save this poor soul!”
“Save us!”
What the hell are these lunatics doing? Trying to frame me for treason?!
No matter how immature they are—real nobles whose status is kinda iffy.
Still members of noble society, and they just drop to their knees?
They must be plotting to assassinate me. Damn enemies' scheme!
“Shut up and get up. What's with the sudden dramatics? You guys on drugs?”
“Richi's right. People see this, they'll love it.”
Enter and I quickly hauled them up.
Then we saw it. Smiles creeping onto their faces.
My possessor senses tingled. This vibe... it's dangerous!
“So you'll hear us out, right?”
“Huh?”
“Or we kneel again.”
Don't these guys have any noble pride? You're all count family sons.
Not some backwater nobodies whose names I can't remember like national treasures.
You're from big shots. I'm impressed by my own taste in friends. Wow! Fuuuuck!
“...Just sit down first. Don't keep doing that in the library.”
I offered seats to Lester and Michel, figuring I'd at least hear them out.
“Richi. You know how important departments are at the academy.”
As Lester said, the academy has multiple departments.
Knight Department, Magic Department, Administrative Department, Officer Department, etc... Like college majors.
And just like majors, your department doesn't lock in your future.
Knight grad could go administrative and become an imperial bureaucrat; Magic grad could get possessed by a swordmaster and become a knight.
“Exactly. For some, it's for planning their future. For others, it's just petty pride battles.”
“Gotta phrase it like that?”
“It's true. What can I do? I'd shut up if I made it up.”
Huh? Look at our Administrative Department. They tell us to study instead of fighting over pride.
But the others? They're at each other's throats.
From the academy's founding, ancient rivals with history and tradition.
The stars: Knight Department vs. Magic Department, always bickering over whose sword or spell is superior.
Both use mana—why fight so much?
Bet if you knifed them on the street, it'd be self-defense; shotgun spell? Mitigating circumstances.
And lately, a heated new rivalry: Officer Department vs. Knight Department. Knights overlapping again.
Two-front war is a path to defeat, right? Makes Knight Department secretly the strongest...?
“Even so, Richi, you can't just sit it out! Who proposed the Officer Department?!”
The one who established the Officer Department at the academy? My grandfather.
Built on his fierce argument that only seasoned officers can bring soldiers home alive.
Its star grads hit the front lines and turned the tide.
Heard they played a big role when Father smashed the Koenihesen bastards' heads.
That's where Knight vs. Officer friction started heating up.
Knights are knights proper, but they command troops in a pinch.
Officers focus more on group command over personal combat.
Similar yet different things always clash when they don't vibe.
Of course, it's not causing real imperial chaos.
Do that, and the palace sends a thug prince possessed by a demon to dance with swords?
Mouthy knights and officers alike lose their heads rolling!
“I know the department drama, so wrap it up. So, Lester? Michel? Noble Officer Department applicants—what exactly do you want from me?”
Dumbasses vowing to serve the Empire as officers. No, correction: friends making the smart choice.
I pressed for the point, and they hand over a paper.
“What's this?”
“We need a strategy!”
“Joint training with the Knight Department in two days!”
“We wanna mess 'em up, Richi! No, beat 'em!”
“...”
No, but seriously, you idiots? Why come to me for this?
I'm not even in Officer Department—why should I plan your strategy?