Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 0.5
Chapter Title: The Age for Urgent Family Calls (2)
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Because it's a romance fantasy! As long as there's beautiful love, all problems get solved!
Surprisingly, the two black mage couples ended up walking free with a 'not guilty' verdict.
There had been a crime during their experiments where they kidnapped heinous criminals from the wilds and used them as lab rats.
But since dying in prison or dying in experiments amounted to pretty much the same future for criminals anyway, the higher-ups wrapped it up with a light sentence of hard labor.
In other words, they were pretty moral black mages! Of course, judging by medieval moral standards on average.
Anyway, right after successfully laundering the identities of those two black mages who'd brilliantly changed professions to freemen, I turned tail and bolted on vacation without looking back.
"Please, I hope some incident blows up and forces an emergency recall."
My boss didn't like that I'd triggered a black mage incident and then jetted off on vacation, so that District Chief bastard hurled curses at me.
"I'll leave the rest to you, District Chief."
"Fuck."
In the end, I was the one who got the vacation, so I smirked my ass off as I left the Holy Empire behind.
Just as I was about to enjoy that vacation...
- Daniel. Aren't you about at the age to get married?
The sudden Urgent Family Call from Mother landed a solid hit on my chin.
Truth be told, I don't really know much about love.
From my previous life growing up as an orphan to this one where I luckily got born into nobility.
Not a natural-born noble, sure, but I grew up hearing "young master" all the time, so let's just call it noble enough.
Anyway, over that long, long stretch of time, my heart had never burned with love.
I barely know the difference between like and love—how could I possibly read people's hearts?
"Why don't you give it a read?"
So at my friend's urging, I figured I'd learn about romance through books. Novels, comics, movies, dramas, nonfiction—you name it, I devoured it all.
After conquering countless books and media, I reached one conclusion.
"So what the hell is love?"
What are romance, love, like? In the end, someone who learns it from words just gets trapped in those words.
All that sappy dialogue unique to romance fantasies. Or the delusion that love between men and women is 100% pure romance.
Of course, I knew the tragic saying from novels and entertainment: 'People with zero dating experience somehow nail love comedies and romances.'
Especially good at melting sweet illusions into them, or so they say.
Pitying my life like that, some nameless god reincarnated me into a romance fantasy teeming with hair colors galore.
Inheriting that god's will, I vowed not to live as a love celibate this time around.
"Weren't you married to a god?"
"Shut your mouth."
But man, that wasn't easy.
Starting with the gap between mental and physical age, then dealing with the endless incidents typical of fantasy worlds.
Timing slipped away, people slipped away, and work crushed everything.
Before I knew it, I was twenty-five, with nothing left in my hands but a beefier bank balance. ...Is that actually a good thing?
Anyway, by 21st-century Earth standards, I'd still be a fresh grad, but in this damn medieval fantasy, it's the perfect age to get pegged as a playboy or a eunuch.
- You did go independent young, but you're still family, you know.
"I always keep that in mind."
- Exactly. That's why I'm worried. If you'd declared celibacy, fine, but if you've got a heart but no match, it's ultimately our fault.
Mother's punch, packed with sincerity, exploded on me. And with damn good reason.
Like how the car behind can't move if the one in front doesn't pull out, in 15th-century medieval fantasy nobility, if the eldest son or daughter doesn't marry, the younger ones are in a real bind.
Of course, the age gap between me and my second sibling is pretty big, so no major pressure yet.
- If a good match comes along, tell me right away. Even a commoner is fine—your heart matters most.
She dropped the ultimate card of "even commoners are okay," like she couldn't hold back anymore.
But here's the thing.
'I don't have some secret lover I'm hiding.'
I'm no romance fantasy male lead. No tragic love blocked by status walls or anything.
Unfortunately, all I could do was nod and give a robotic reply.
- If you need introductions, just say the word. Your father and I married for love, but arranged marriages aren't always bad.
"Yes..."
- Oh dear. I let my nagging drag on out of worry. Can't keep a busy child like you this long.
"I'll contact you the moment I reach the territory, Mother."
- Travel safe. Since it's been ages, I'll prepare a grand feast.
"Then I'll hang up now."
- ...Should I have arranged a betrothal when you were younger?
With a click, the Communication Orb's light faded, but that final lonely voice set my conscience spinning like mad.
The aching pain spreading through my whole body was several times worse than demon magic or black mage curses.
And this was an unavoidable, unblockable attack. Dodging it would be like wasting infinite HP—only option was to take it like a man.
Plus, worries like this would only intensify, never weaken. The future where I might actually take a Celibacy Vow was closing in.
So in the end...
"Got any women you can introduce me to?"
- You've finally lost your mind, huh.
I pulled out the forbidden ultimate move: the friend hook-up.
Friends you make as kids last the longest.
Actually, that saying's got some major flaws. Finding the right person is like plucking stars from the sky. Even if you do, distance grows naturally if contact fades.
Like how you buy a house for eight hundred gold but a good neighbor for a thousand, true friends are irreplaceable in life.
Only problem is...
"Ugh. Married to a god or what? Seeing your face is a goddamn chore."
"Quit teasing."
"Nah. Married to work? What's the wife's last name?"
"Argh, seriously!"
The closer you are, the more you pounce when you spot an opening to kill.
This bastard charging at me right now is Mikhail de Astria. What you'd call a bro-friend.
"Getting married, huh? You're set now."
"Way out of my league."
"Looks that way. Future wife's got shit taste in people, though."
"...You little shit?"
One's an imperial knight in the busiest spot in the capital, the other's grinding through Mon-Tue-Wed-Thu-Fri-Sat-Sun in the Holy Empire.
Unlike our old adventuring days, now we can only meet by carving out time. Though I'm the main culprit with my schedule.
"So, what house is she from?"
I was curious why this guy, who I thought was in the same boat, suddenly got married. How'd they meet? Could benchmark for my own love life.
"Commoner."
"...?"
The jab caught me off guard, and I spat out my juice in a glorious cough.
Too heavy a bombshell to just brush off from such a casual toss.
"Dude, that's fresh fruit juice. How do you spit out something that pricey?"
"Cough! You bastard, you startled me."
"...Is marrying a commoner that shocking?"
I grimaced without thinking at his comeback.
I'm from the 21st century, so class doesn't faze me, but this guy's a straight-up 15th-century medieval fantasy native.
Plus, noble marriages are basically house mergers, so I figured his family—one of only three in the empire—wouldn't allow it.
I knew his parents had progressive minds for medieval folk, but not this radical.
"They just said bring whoever, doesn't matter."
"Ah."
Custom. Precedent. Tradition. Status.
All those walls kneel before 'eldest son's marriage.' If they like the person themselves, family and background be damned—it's basically a threat to drag anyone home.
And get this.
'I've heard that line too.'
I facepalmed without realizing. Didn't know twenty-five hit this hard.
"So you suddenly wanna get married?"
A sudden drift shot in. Hmm. Didn't see that coming.
"...Just feels weird seeing a guy like me—who thought I'd never marry—tie the knot first. Kinda melancholic."
"I didn't expect this for myself either."
"Bragging?"
"Hell yeah."
His beaming grin made me wanna deck him, but as a Mana Null, my punch would shatter on his face instead, so I settled for a potato chip.
He burst out laughing with a big "Puhaha."
"So. For real?"
"..."
He tossed the question in a more serious tone.
"Eh."
These things are tricky for me too.
"Just... parents worry a lot."
I did get a bit heated, but truth is, I'm not starving for love.
What can I say? Curious about that heart-burning love, sure.
"You, don't tell me you're still—."
"Anyway, point is, I can't dodge this anymore."
Leaning back, the premium bull leather's soft texture caressed me. ...Hmm, bet they won't toss this when I marry?
"Where'd you get this? Might snag one for home—."
"Wanna meet her? Got one in mind. Nah, just bail."
"...? What the hell?"
Did he eat something bad? Why this sudden?
As I froze in confusion, he sighed deeply.
"She's a good one, so just meet her once."
"?"
He straight-up fiddled with the Communication Orb right in front of me.
"Tonight, 6 PM. Head to 'Blooming Garden' on 5th Avenue in the capital, drop my name, and you're in."
He flat-out scheduled a dinner date. Radical move from the guy I knew.
"No, I was just joking when I—."
"You only joked 'cause you had it in mind. Think I don't see that?"
Ugh. No comeback to that. Quick-witted bastards are a pain.
"Hey. I know it's shameless, but..."
One thing I had to ask, though.
"That... she pretty?"
"You're insane."
Insane? Bro-friend or not, this was essential recon.
"Hello, I'm Lucia de Astria."
"..."
"Are you Daniel, Mikhail oppa's friend?"
Okay. Let's sort this situation.
So my bro-friend hooked me up with a girl. Who shares his family name. And has that silver hair and blue eyes look.
Only conclusion I could draw?
'This guy's fucking nuts.'
I knelt to the romance fantasy cliché of friends hooking you up with their little sister.