The Youngest of House John Nassen
“Do you know there are many kinds of shamanism? Broadly speaking, they fall into three categories….”
“As you might already know, if you offer a sacrifice in addition to faith, it becomes even more powerful….”
“Unlike magic, which consumes mana, there’s no instantaneous reaction, but shamanism has other advantages….”
Please stop. At this rate I’m going to develop a brand-new hatred of shamanism that never even existed before.
The entire way to the Academy, Tisha kept rattling off explanations about shamanism.
Probably because Kyle had shown a fairly positive view of it.
She must have been delighted to finally find a good listener after so long.
Even so, you don’t spend more than a whole week talking about one single topic.
At this point Jesus, Buddha, and Confucius himself would all be saying, “Whoa, this is kinda sus.”
Not one day, not three days—he was supposed to listen for an entire week.
Today, of all days, the lack of a teleportation circle to the Academy felt like a genuine tragedy.
If everyone had been forced to listen together, it might have been a little better.
He could have zoned out for a bit without it being so obvious.
But Tisha and Ian were still in the middle of a cold war, and poor Kyle was stuck right between them.
Which meant he had to bear the full brunt of Tisha’s monologue all by himself.
What the hell is this guy doing? She’s going to be his future girlfriend—why hasn’t he apologized yet?
A quick glance confirmed that Ian at least seemed to understand he was in the wrong.
The problem was that this damned Male Lead Number One had absolutely zero gift for words.
He couldn’t apologize properly, and even if he tried, he usually just sparked a fresh provocation.
No wonder the top comment around episode five had been something like, “This guy would be way better if he just shut his damn mouth.”
The way he kept stealing glances at Tisha suggested either genuine remorse…
…or the kind of interest a man feels toward a woman. Either way, something was there.
But human hearts never get through unless you actually put them into words.
Just staring at her like that was never going to solve anything.
“….”
You’re not a puppy that needs to pee—what good does all that silent squirming do?
Kyle felt like he was choking to death on pure secondhand frustration.
Other people’s love lives were none of his business, but at this rate he was going to die of sheer irritation before they even arrived.
So during a rest stop he casually sidled up to Ian.
“Ian. Can I talk to you for a moment?”
While Tisha was absorbed in her stew, determined to show off her skills for the first time in a while, Kyle dragged Male Lead Number One off to a secluded spot.
“…What is it.”
The vibe is more like I should be telling him to keep his eyes off my woman, damn it.
Kyle cleared his throat and spoke with the same wretched feeling a magpie or crow must get when a couple tramples its nest.
“Are you just going to keep going like this?”
“What?”
“How long are you planning to stay this awkward? Just say you’re sorry, that you were rude, and get it over with. We arrive at the Academy in three days—you’re not seriously planning to keep this up until then, are you?”
Ian looked like he had no idea what Kyle was talking about and was ready to throw a punch if he kept it up.
With the protagonist buff letting him bag a girl like that, he ought to be thanking the heavens for his life.
Fortunately for the situation—and unfortunately for Kyle—Ian wasn’t completely dense.
“…You’re telling me to apologize.”
“What you said to Miss Tisha about shamanism being black magic. That’s exactly the same as someone walking up to you and asking if swordsmanship is just a murder technique for killing people.”
Ian fixed Kyle with an extremely cold gaze.
Having lived as a wanderer since childhood, a rough edge was etched into his very bones.
Even wild beasts would tuck their tails and run from those eyes.
To Kyle, however, the look meant absolutely nothing.
Mom’s glare when I used to complain about side dishes is way scarier than this.
Or my brother’s when he caught me trying to skip cardio.
Or my sister’s when I tried to skip a set.
You need at least that level before my heart even starts to race.
“Am I wrong?”
“…No.”
“Then hurry up and go apologize.”
“….”
“I’m begging you. Do you have any idea how awkward I am stuck between you and Miss Tisha?”
The guy’s way of talking was annoying, but he wasn’t evil by nature.
If he were, he would have been the tanned blond pretty-boy trying to steal the heroine instead of the protagonist.
“Fine.”
“That’s a promise. You’re going right now to apologize.”
“I will.”
“Then lead the way.”
Let’s wrap this up before this damn Male Lead Number One starts spouting more nonsense.
With that thought, Kyle herded Ian back to the campsite.
“Just a little longer! It’s almost ready!”
A surprisingly appetizing smell drifted around his nose.
So she’s not just good at shamanism—her cooking’s decent too?
“Hey.”
Ian stomped straight up to Tisha.
Hearing him call her “hey” instead of her name, Kyle pressed a hand to his forehead.
Did all that wandering completely atrophy his romance cells?
“What is it, Mister Ruffian?”
He had fully expected that icy response.
Judging by tone alone, the guy sounded like he was picking a fight rather than apologizing.
Even Tisha had no choice but to answer like that.
Just as realistic worry started creeping in about whether an apology was even possible—
“I’m sorry.”
Well, at least he apologized.
Even if his voice still didn’t sound like a man who felt sorry.
“Sorry for what?”
Tisha was no pushover either.
She wasn’t about to accept an apology just because it was offered.
“I misspoke. That wasn’t what I meant.”
“If that wasn’t what you meant, then what did you mean?”
“…Just… the things people said about shamanism while I was wandering around. I think I spat out whatever they’d been saying without thinking.”
“So you’re admitting you weren’t thinking.”
“Yes.”
Male Lead Number One quietly accepted his fault.
Heroine Number One’s anger seemed to ease a little at the sight.
“…From now on, think once before you open your mouth. You might mean one thing, but if you just dump it out unfiltered, the other person can take it completely differently.”
That kind of lecture… I’ve heard men get it all the time. Think before you speak.
Standing at a distance with his arms folded, Kyle carefully watched the scene unfold.
Is it over now? Can I stop listening to shamanism lectures alone on the road?
“Understood.”
“Good. Then I’ll accept your apology. Ian.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry again.”
Having said that much, Ian claimed he was going to check on the horses and left.
As he passed, Kyle caught a faint flush on his face.
Why the hell is your face red? Already fallen for her? From which part exactly?
Wondering if the guy was already trying to rub the future couple status in his face, Kyle quietly returned to his seat. Tisha spoke.
“That was your work, wasn’t it?”
“Pardon?”
“That stiff man suddenly apologizing.”
“If someone does something wrong, apologizing is the natural thing to do, isn’t it?”
“It is natural. But there are plenty of people who can’t even manage the natural thing.”
Tisha’s eyes turned clearly toward Kyle.
Completely different from the cold look she had given Ian earlier.
They held such a warm light that he actually flinched.
This is bad. This feels extremely bad.
“Thank you, Kyle.”
“Not at all. I really didn’t do anything. There’s nothing to thank me for.”
“And I’m sorry. For making the atmosphere so uncomfortable.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for either. Ian’s the one who messed up—why should Miss Tisha be the one saying sorry?”
“But I did react pretty seriously, didn’t I?”
“I see. In that case I’ll accept the apology quickly and we’ll pretend it never happened.”
His honest desire was to take whatever needed taking and then put some distance between them.
In the novel he was just a John Nassen noble casually mentioned once in passing.
Not even the eldest son—just the youngest—so he shouldn’t get dragged into every mess.
Those kinds of things always centered on the protagonists, didn’t they?
All he had done was freeload on the free chapters, so he knew nothing of the real plot.
If he went around linking arms with the main cast, he would get sucked into the vortex of events for nothing.
Let them handle the incidents and accidents; he would enjoy a happy Academy life.
That was the big picture Kyle was dreaming of.
“By the way, Kyle.”
“Yes, Miss Tisha. What is it?”
“If you think about it, we’re both going to enter the Academy, right?”
“That’s true.”
“We’re the same age too.”
“We are, but—”
“Then how about we just drop the formal speech? What do you say?”
Yet for some reason, Tisha seemed to have no intention of letting him draw that picture in peace.
For office workers, the weekend was a treasure allowed for only two precious days.
By chance his wife had taken the kids and gone back to her parents’ house.
After sleeping in luxuriously and getting up late in the morning to make coffee, the Minister of Education—
“Pffft!!”
—promptly sprayed the coffee that had just entered his mouth.
The person on the other end of the magic communication orb, witnessing the tragic spectacle, squeezed his eyes shut.
“…Say that again. Who arrived? Who’s trying to enroll?”
“Kyle John Nassen, the second son of Viscount John Nassen.”
Am I fucking dreaming right now?
He had clearly rejected the application and sent it back—so why had the kid shown up at the Academy?
Even this much was already a nightmare situation.
But the Minister of Education’s tragedy had only just begun.
“Minister… the enrollment process has already been completed.”
“…Why. How. For what reason.”
“You know the recommendation letter from the Margrave of the North, right? He just stamped it with that and went straight through.”
“I’m the Minister of Education! Why wasn’t my stamp required? What about me? What am I?”
“W-well, as you know… recommendation letters skip everything and go only to His Majesty the Emperor….”
Crash!!—
The coffee cup he was holding slipped from his fingers as the Minister of Education sank into pure despair.
He could already picture the Minister of Finance charging over to throttle him.
And of course it would be first thing Monday morning, the most cursed work hour of all.
“Fuck…”
He hadn’t wanted to swear like that in front of a subordinate.
But genuine tears blurred his vision, and the curse slipped out.
He wanted to submit his resignation and run away right that second.
If he did, though, the Minister of Finance would probably race all the way to his house and smash his skull in.
“…Compile the new student list and send it up.”
“The new students, sir?”
“Yes. Rank them by priority. Extremely detailed and precise.”
“May I ask what you intend to use it for?”
At his subordinate’s question, the Minister opened his mouth in the voice of a man who had already given up.
“An evacuation priority list. Just in case.”