Swallowing Pride
Five months had already passed since the Grand Magic Alliance Council had concluded.
During that time, the imperial magic community, including House Benheim, had been bustling with activity. This was due to the passage of a proposal to form the Allied Subjugation Force by drafting portions of the armed forces from the families belonging to the Alliance.
However, it would take time for the Allied Subjugation Force to officially launch. Delays arose from the need to coordinate conflicting interests, handle the internal affairs of each family, and navigate administrative procedures.
The Allied Subjugation Force was scheduled to officially raise its banner by the end of the year.
Thus, for Arno von Benheim, who was not part of Benheim's active military forces, the Allied Subjugation Force was a story from another world. Life in the Benheim territory continued as peacefully as ever.
Crack!
The training dummy reeled violently under the impact of Arno's spell. It was a specialized dummy, enchanted to only react to spells of the 4th tier or higher.
"Incredible, Lord Arno!"
"Truly magnificent, young master! As expected of the pillar of Benheim!"
The branch family mages showered him with praise, as if they had been waiting for the cue.
Yet, Arno's mood remained sour.
The adulation no longer pleased him. If anything, it sounded like mockery.
The reason was simple.
That bastard...
Arno was the successor of House Benheim.
He had been hailed as a prodigy since childhood, receiving the family's full, undivided support. He had always believed he was living up to those expectations.
Because of this, Arno could only conclude that his achievements were being overshadowed entirely by the interloper who had rolled into Benheim.
Boom!
Right on cue, a deafening explosion roared.
The very training dummy Arno had just attacked was blown to smithereens.
The dummy, which hadn't sustained so much as a scratch from Arno's spell, was now completely obliterated.
"..."
The branch family mages stood with their mouths agape at the shattered remains. However, none of them dared to voice their awe, keeping a wary eye on Arno.
For the mage who had destroyed the dummy was none other than Benheim's son-in-law, Raygan.
Arno bit his lip as he watched Raygan casually brush dust off his shoulder.
...He's gotten even stronger.
Five months had passed since the Council.
Raygan had already surpassed the entry level of the 5th tier and reached the mid-tier.
It was a terrifying pace. Reaching the mid-5th tier at a mere nineteen years of age was an unprecedented feat in the history of the Empire.
What made it even more miserable for Arno was that all of this growth had occurred in less than a year and a half since Raygan first picked up magic—while Arno himself was still stuck at the mid-4th tier.
Why can't I catch up to him...?
Arno couldn't suppress his sense of injustice.
He had received systematic education as the heir of Benheim since childhood.
He had consumed two bottles of elixir and absorbed mana from the family's leyline daily. His training environment was incomparably superior to Raygan's.
Yet, in just over a year, he had been thoroughly overtaken by this gray-haired peer of the same age.
No matter how brilliant Arno's own talent was, his pride couldn't help but fracture.
With someone... so outstanding right here, why am I even the successor?
He had even begun to harbor such dark thoughts.
Even if he did become the head of the family, it was obvious he would spend his entire life overshadowed by Raygan at this rate.
The family members might end up looking up to his brother-in-law more than the actual patriarch of Benheim.
A profound sense of defeat washed over him.
He wondered if it would be better to join the Allied Subjugation Force and accumulate military merits, but there was no way the elders or his father would allow the heir to participate in such a dangerous mission.
In that case...
"Lunia."
Arno called out to his sister, who was wiping her sweat with a towel nearby.
"Huh? What is it?"
"Do you have any interest in becoming the head of the family?"
At Arno's question, Lunia stopped wiping her face. She stared blankly at him before asking,
"Are you serious, brother?"
"..."
"Just a few years ago, you were boasting about how you were going to be the patriarch. What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"Never mind that. You're outstanding too, Lunia. You're a year younger than me, but you're already at the entry level of the 4th tier. That's more than enough qualification."
Though obscured by Raygan's absurd achievements, Lunia's talent actually surpassed Arno's as well.
It wasn't just a matter of tiers. Her mana sensitivity was so exceptional that even their father marveled at it.
That fact, too, made Arno feel miserable.
"No, qualifications aside, you're the successor, aren't you? Where is this coming from?"
"...I'm just telling you to think about it. For the future of Benheim."
Furthermore, Lunia was engaged to Raygan.
If the two of them led the family together, Benheim would undoubtedly grow prosperous and powerful.
Apparently, during the last Council, while Arno was busy greeting members of other families, Raygan and Lunia had successfully cured the black plague afflicting the heir of the Eyrid family.
The strange magic Raygan was currently practicing was the unique magic formula of the Eyrid family, passed down to him as a reward for that cure.
Raygan was growing by leaps and bounds every single day.
On the other hand, what about him?
Compared to Raygan's speed, wasn't he practically standing still?
"...Brother."
Seeing Arno's dejected expression, Lunia frowned and spoke.
"You know I can't become the head of the family. And I have no desire to, either."
"...Right."
Arno and Lunia had different mothers.
Lunia's mother was a commoner. If she were to ascend to the position of patriarch, the backlash from the conservative elders within the family would be severe.
Both Lunia and Arno knew this better than anyone.
"...Sorry. I said something stupid. Just forget it. I was only..."
Arno turned his head away with a bitter smile.
Lunia's eyes darkened as she watched him.
"My brother is acting weird."
Lunia blurted out the words the moment she burst in.
Actually, it wasn't that sudden. Lunia had always been free-spirited, knocking on my door three or four times a day anyway.
"Your brother? You mean Arno?"
"Yeah. I think his self-esteem has taken a massive hit."
"Is he really the type to get discouraged like that?"
"The fact that he isn't that type makes it even more of a problem."
Lunia wore a genuinely worried expression.
Seeing the usually playful Lunia speak so seriously made me realize Arno's condition must be quite severe.
"How exactly is he acting weird?"
"He asked me if I wanted to become the head of the family."
"That is definitely unlike him."
"Right? It's so unlike my brother."
"Hmm..."
I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.
Resting my chin on my hand, I voiced my guess.
"I think it's because of me."
"Because of you, Raygan?"
"Yeah. Guys around that age usually build up their self-esteem by comparing themselves to those around them. And Arno views me as a rival. It's an environment where his confidence is bound to plummet."
"Raygan, you're the same age as my brother. Why are you talking like you're some old man?"
"...I'm just speaking generally."
Indeed, over the past year, Arno had constantly sparred with me under the guise of training, and he hadn't won a single time. For someone as prideful as Arno, it must have been a devastating blow.
But I couldn't just go easy on him or stop training altogether out of pity. That would only hurt his pride even more.
"...This is troublesome."
Arno was important.
In the future battle against the Archduke of Demonic Magic, he, as the successor of Benheim, had to serve as our reliable support.
He couldn't afford to break here.
"I guess I have no choice."
"Raygan, do you have a plan?"
"I think our dear brother-in-law is under a massive delusion right now."
Arno was the direct lineage of Benheim.
He was a young master born with a silver spoon in his mouth, having walked only the elite path.
It was only natural his stomach would churn when being pushed aside by a commoner-born son-in-law.
The root of the problem lay in him viewing me as his competitor.
"I have no intention of competing with Arno."
My only goal was to take the head of the Archduke of Demonic Magic.
The position of Benheim's patriarch or its honor was completely outside my interests from the very beginning.
Therefore...
"I should go restore his pride a bit."
"His pride? How are you going to do that?"
"The mercenary way."
"The... mercenary way?"
Lunia tilted her head in confusion.
It was the middle of the night when Raygan barged into Arno's room without knocking.
"R-Raygan? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
"Cut the chatter and follow me."
Raygan grabbed Arno's wrist rather roughly and dragged him out. Lunia followed closely behind, looking just as bewildered.
Dragged helplessly into the garden, Arno yelled,
"What is this about?!"
"Forget the details. Raise your fists. Let's have a duel for old times' sake."
"A duel? We just did that yesterday! And why in the middle of the night? You're going to wake everyone up!"
"Do you remember when we first met?"
"First met?"
Arno recalled their first encounter.
A year and a half ago, Arno had gone to the annex where Raygan was staying to pick a fight. He had initiated a duel and suffered a miserable defeat.
That memory was a trauma of sorts, so there was no way Arno could ever forget it.
"W-why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?"
"Let's duel like we did back then. With a wager."
"A-a duel? A wager?"
"Yeah. If I win this duel, you hand over the position of patriarch to me."
Arno gasped at the words. Even Lunia's eyes widened in shock.
"But if you win, I'll cleanly give up any claim to the position. How about it?"
"...No, what on earth... are you talking about?"
Arno stammered, completely flustered.
Dueling over the position of family head—did that even make sense?
Raygan had never shown any greed for status within the family. Yet, here he was, expressing a desire for the patriarch's seat.
Arno wondered if Raygan was finally showing his true colors.
Naturally, it was a duel he couldn't accept. The position of successor was not something that could be decided by a mere bet between two people.
Yet, after a moment of hesitation, Arno spoke in a quiet voice.
"Just... take the position. I can't beat you anyway, no matter how much we fight..."
"..."
"Take it. You're better than me. Everyone is looking at you anyway."
Those words were entirely sincere.
If Raygan became the head of Benheim, the family members might secretly welcome it. No, they definitely would.
In reality, it was Raygan, not Arno, who had drawn the most attention at the Council.
Raygan possessed talent incomparable to his own. And it was only right for the more outstanding individual to lead the family.
Just as Arno was wallowing in self-abandonment, a flash of light erupted before his eyes.
"Ugh!"
Arno rolled across the ground a couple of times before realizing he had just been punched in the face by Raygan.
Clutching his stinging cheek, Arno stared at him in utter bewilderment.
"Y-you crazy bastard...! Why are you punching me all of a sudden?!"
"Why do you think? I said we're dueling, you idiot. Who said I wanted to hear your loser talk?"
Raygan scowled, thumping his own chest with his fist.
"Forget about the consequences and just fight. No mana, no magic, no tools."
"...What?"
"Only our bare bodies."
Raygan grinned.
Arno had no idea what Raygan was thinking.
But the moment he saw that grin, a strange, burning competitive spirit flared up deep within Arno's chest.
He couldn't win with magic anyway.
In that case... wasn't this his only chance to wipe that smug look off Raygan's face?
"Damn it!"
Arno lunged at Raygan.
"What do you know about anything?!"
He kicked Raygan in the solar plexus and tore at his hair. Raygan retaliated with a flurry of punches.
It was a brawl so messy and undignified that Lunia, watching from the sidelines, let out a shrill shriek.
To be honest, Arno had never engaged in such a muddy fistfight in his life.
Raygan's body was far sturdier than Arno's, so Arno naturally ended up rolling on the dirt multiple times.
But he didn't give up. Having constantly lost to Raygan over the past year, his pain tolerance and sheer stubbornness had been thoroughly tempered.
Above all, if he lost even in a situation where magic wasn't involved, he would have absolutely no pride left. So, he kept rising like a roly-poly toy, swinging his fists.
Raygan didn't bother blocking or parrying Arno's blows either; instead, he closed the distance and traded punches head-on.
It was a fight devoid of dignity, etiquette, or face.
By the end, they couldn't even tell who was on top. The metallic taste of blood filled Arno's mouth from his split lip, and his nose bled profusely. His eyes were half-swollen shut, making it impossible to see if his punches were even landing.
After a few minutes that felt like hours.
"Pant, pant..."
Arno and Raygan collapsed onto the ground at the exact same time, as if by agreement.
Compared to Arno, whose entire face was swollen like a balloon, Raygan looked relatively unscathed. That fact alone made Arno's blood boil.
"Well... let's just call it a draw."
Arno scowled at Raygan's casual remark.
Unable to hold back any longer, he demanded,
"You fought me knowing you didn't care about the patriarch position anyway, didn't you?"
"You just figured that out?"
"How could I not? You bastard, everyone in the family knows you don't give a damn about becoming the patriarch!"
Arno let out a heavy sigh.
His head spun from the sheer physical exertion.
"Damn it, the world is so unfair."
He couldn't help but grumble.
"I bust my ass training day and night only to end up like this, while some guy reaches the 5th tier in just a year and a half after starting magic."
"What can I say? I'm just that good."
"I know! That's why it's so infuriating! Because I can't even blame you!"
Arno stared up at the moon and sighed deeply.
"Once I become the patriarch, I'll forever be labeled as weaker than the son-in-law we brought in."
"Does that really matter?"
"Of course it does! I'm the future head of House Benheim! But if my talent falls short compared to an outsider like you..."
"I don't know about that. Personally, I don't think your talent is lacking."
"What?"
"I'm basically a patchwork of rags stitched together from here and there. You, on the other hand, are a finely woven silk robe crafted with care from the start. The gap might seem wide right now, but in the long run, it won't be that different."
Raygan shrugged and continued.
"And what's the big deal about talent anyway? Does a patriarch have to be the strongest? You saw the state of the other magic family heads at the Council. Character matters far more than raw talent. If I became the patriarch, Benheim would probably end up like House Maelrn."
"..."
"Besides, you've got more than enough grit. I've seen countless bastards who relied solely on their talent only to break when things got tough. At least you don't snap."
"What do you mean, snap?"
"Grit is what matters. The guy who rolls in the dirt and gets back up always outlasts the one who collapses the moment he tastes defeat."
Raygan's words sounded so much like advice from a battle-hardened veteran that Arno could only mutter in response,
"Stop acting so high and mighty. You're the same age as me."
"...Yeah. Right."
Staring up at the sky, Arno let out a hollow laugh.
It was simply too absurd that he was receiving comfort from the person he resented most.
Perhaps because of that, the worries that had plagued him for the past few days suddenly felt utterly trivial.
Finally, Arno made up his mind and spoke.
"Hey."
"What?"
"Teach me magic."
Until now, Arno had never once directly asked Raygan for guidance.
He had believed he could surpass him on his own.
But with the gap widened to this extent, he no longer had the luxury of clinging to useless pride.
"Even if I can't reach your level, I want to at least reach the 5th tier faster than Lunia. So... I'm asking you."
Arno's face burned.
He felt a sense of shame far greater than when he had offered to hand over the succession earlier.
Yet, Raygan merely smirked at Arno's flushed face.
"Well, why not?"
"..."
"If you call me 'brother'."
Arno lunged at him once more.
The next day, Sheryl, the maid, could hardly believe her eyes.
On a morning like any other, Arno and Raygan were sitting face-to-face in the workshop, harmonizing their mana.
The sight of the two of them chuckling with their faces swollen black and blue was bizarre, to say the least.
As far as Sheryl could recall, the two had never even shared a meal together, let alone trained in magic so harmoniously, making the scene all the more baffling.
"What... on earth happened? And what is with your faces?"
At Sheryl's question, Lunia, standing nearby, sighed in exasperation.
"Who knows? Men are just too simple for their own good."
A gentle smile spread across Lunia's lips as she watched them quietly.
"But then again, I like simple things too."
Lunia trotted over and squeezed herself between the two.
Watching the three young mages converse, Sheryl let out a soft, wry smile.
"...Is this the 'new wave' the patriarch spoke of?"
The wind blowing through Benheim didn't feel so bad after all.