Clashing with Aunt Erica
Kyle staggered out of the Sword Apex Hall, his body utterly spent.
He'd have loved to keep playing with Julius, but too much had happened that day, and his five-year-old frame had reached its limit.
Kyle blinked his heavy, fatigued eyes. Each blink made his eyelids feel heavier, like they were weighted down. He let out a massive yawn and shook his head vigorously.
"Hey."
As he passed through the corridor and reached the hall, someone was waiting for him.
A girl with light pinkish-red hair—closer to pink than true red—and green eyes. Julius's youngest daughter, Erica Alastor. The barely thirteen-year-old youngest aunt glared at Kyle with fierce intensity in her eyes.
"Hello, Aunt Erica."
Kyle rubbed his sleepy eyes open and bowed politely. Sure, their ages weren't that far apart, but an aunt was still an aunt. He'd greeted her with due respect, yet Erica—arms crossed and standing with a tilt—scanned him up and down with a look that screamed utter disapproval.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"In the Sword Apex Hall."
"You think a place like the Sword Apex Hall is somewhere a little brat like you can just wander into whenever?"
He wondered what her angle was, but yeah, that figured. Erica tried to build a menacing aura, but compared to Julius's overwhelming presence just moments ago, she came off like a tiny puppy growling.
"Grandpa took me there."
"You... you begged him to!"
"He liked it too."
"H-how do you know if the family head liked it or not?"
"He laughed a lot while playing with me."
Erica's eyes twitched at the response. She opened her mouth as if to retort, clenched her fists, then stormed toward Kyle.
"You insolent little punk! Who talks back to their aunt like that?!"
"I wasn't talking back. I was just answering your questions."
"That's what talking back is!"
"So should I not answer when you ask me something?"
Kyle looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. Erica hesitated, her fists trembling, then shot back with a scowl.
"Answer only when I tell you to! Got it from now on?"
"..."
"Why aren't you answering?!"
"You didn't tell me to."
"You answer now!"
"Yes, Aunt Erica."
Huff...! Erica looked up at the ceiling, taking several deep breaths to compose herself.
"Don't beg the family head to take you to the Sword Apex Hall anymore. Got it? No, not just there—don't bother him at all."
"..."
"Answer me!"
"No."
"Wh-what? You just said no?"
"Yes."
"Why?!"
"I want to play with Grandpa, and he wants to play with me. He doesn't find it a bother."
"How... how do you know?"
"Then how do you know?"
Erica couldn't hold back at his beaming question. She raised her clenched fist to lightly knuckle his head, but Kyle easily dodged.
"Why'd you dodge?!"
"Violence is bad."
"V-violen—that's not violence. It's discipline."
"Why are you disciplining me, Aunt?"
"Because I'm your aunt! You're so cheeky—talking back every time, ignoring what I say."
"Do you think Grandpa finds me a bother?"
"Of course!"
"Then let's go ask him together."
Kyle smiled brightly and tugged at Erica's sleeve. She panicked, planting her feet and shaking her head frantically.
"N-no way."
"Why not?"
"I can't bother the family head...!"
"You don't know if he finds it a bother or not. Maybe he'd like it if you came to play too."
"No way..."
Exhausted and dying of sleepiness, Kyle had talked way too much. He blinked his heavy eyelids, yawned hugely, and plopped down right there. Erica stared in confusion as he suddenly sat on the floor.
"Wh-what's wrong with you all of a sudden?"
"I'm so sleepy... can't move..."
A five-year-old body was this inconvenient. No amount of willpower could fix it. Looking up at Erica with half-closed eyes, Kyle mumbled.
"Good night..."
He couldn't hold out any longer. Kyle shut his eyes completely and surrendered to sleep. The boy who'd been sassing her nonstop moments ago now slumped like a ragdoll, leaving Erica utterly flustered.
"What kind of kid is this...?"
Cheeky and brazen. And bafflingly, he spoke with the eloquence of someone far beyond five. Even her youngest nephew couldn't talk like that at his age, and Erica herself certainly hadn't at five.
"..."
It wasn't just talk. Word was he'd beaten Lucia in a duel... Could a five-year-old really swing a wooden sword like that? Erica sighed deeply in frustration, then carefully scooped Kyle up.
"Annoying brat..."
His constant backtalk was infuriating, and she hated how he'd cozied up to the family head—someone even she couldn't approach easily—on day one.
But setting that aside... the little nephew was cute enough to steal even her heart. Especially that ruby-red sparkling hair and golden eyes.
It was the color she lacked and envied—the shade of her beloved big sister Arian.
'I didn't even get to greet him properly...'
Arian had left the Sword Tower upon marrying six years ago, when Erica was just seven. She'd sobbed her heart out back then, soaking her pillow with tears over her close sister leaving. Her dislike for Kyle stemmed partly from jealousy over the family head—and partly from jealousy tied to Arian.
"Mm..."
But she still hadn't properly spoken with Arian since their reunion today. The brothers' intimidating vibes had made it impossible.
Still, no helping it. Erica hesitated, then carried Kyle toward the Sword Tower elevator. They'd be living together in the tower from now on anyway.
There was a limit to avoiding each other awkwardly, so she'd drop him off and use the chance to greet Arian properly—and chat.
"Erica?"
On the Sword Tower's fourth floor, at the door of the newly built Rose Mansion on the grassland, head maid Seril and Arian emerged. Erica hesitated, then awkwardly lifted Kyle a bit.
"H-he just conked out suddenly."
"You brought him?"
Arian beamed and took Kyle into her arms. Erica wanted to say more, but facing her sister, words stuck in her throat.
A twinge of worry hit her. The head-knock attempt earlier, calling him cheeky, telling him not to talk back... If Arian heard about the scolding she'd dumped on her young nephew...
"Why are you just standing there?"
"H-huh?"
"Come in! We barely talked earlier. All because Barkas kept glaring daggers."
Erica couldn't help but snort a laugh.
"Hurry up! I'm thrilled to see my little sis after so long. Didn't miss your big sis?"
"Did you miss me? Bet you didn't— that's why you came back to Vigrid but skipped Gladiheim."
"Th-that... I had no choice. Coming back with a newborn? Dad and the brothers would've hounded me to death. I wanted to raise him peacefully, stress-free."
Arian sighed deeply and tugged Erica's wrist.
"My little sis is super mad at me, huh? Alright, alright, big sis was wrong. So come in and have some tea first."
In the end, Erica relented and let Arian pull her into the Rose Mansion.
*
The next day.
When Kyle opened his eyes, Erica was sitting by the bed. Arms crossed, waiting for him to wake, she spoke before he could.
"Sorry about yesterday."
"..."
"But you totally deserved a scolding. I got heated and went for the knuckle—anyway, sorry."
"Why are you here?"
Kyle blinked his still-sleepy eyes. Coughing awkwardly, Erica shrugged.
"Sis said to stay over."
The purebloods on the Sword Tower's fourth floor each lived in their own mansions, Erica included. She stayed in a mansion nearby—far too big for one—with her servants.
"Anyway, auntie's sorry about yesterday. Got it?"
"..."
"Why aren't you answering again... Sigh, answer me."
"I don't get what 'got it' means."
Kyle replied as his mind sharpened.
"If you're sorry, just say sorry. What's this 'got it' stuff?"
Erica's jaw dropped at the bold retort.
"Such a rude little...!"
"I'm telling Mom. You tried to hit me yesterday and yelled at me."
"Wh-when did I yell? I was just disciplining—"
"Then I'll say you disciplined me."
Kyle sat up with a mature expression. Erica suppressed the urge to knuckle him hard, her fist shaking.
"Auntie... is... sorry... won't... do it again—no, I'll discipline you properly! Moderately!"
She forced out each word deliberately.
"So you behave too—no more stuff that deserves it."
"What did I do that deserves it?"
"Bothering the family head—"
"I'll ask Grandpa. If Aunt Erica told me not to bother him, does he find me annoying?"
"Don't ask!"
Erica blurted desperately. How did I end up begging like this? Somehow, Kyle held the knife now. She hesitated, then sighed heavily.
"Don't... ask. Okay?"
"Are you scared of Grandpa?"
"N-not scared. I respect him."
Her voice shrank to a mumble. Continental top family or not, she was only thirteen—the baby of the clan. Her demeanor suggested she'd felt plenty of pressure from above, not just coddled.
"Come to the Sword Apex Hall with me next time."
Kyle hadn't seen Julius as a rigid, overbearing old fogey.
His kindness went to those who earned it, sure. But he wouldn't be heartless to his young youngest daughter.
"You can't just enter the Sword Apex Hall anytime. None of my brothers or sisters can freely go in."
"Grandpa gave me permission. Next time, I'll ask if I can bring you."
"You... you! If you say anything unnecessary to the family head, you'll get it from me!"
This kid clearly didn't grasp the family head's greatness, the Sword Apex Hall's heavy doors, or its majesty. Erica shot to her feet.
"And you—don't go wandering in and out freely. I admit he finds you cute! But he's not idle. He'll tire of you soon enough."
"Nah, I don't think so."
"What do you mean nah, you cheeky brat."
Erica hadn't witnessed Kyle's talent firsthand—just heard he'd beaten Lucia.
Thus, she was certain. No pureblood Alastor lacked talent.
The family head liked talented kids, fine. But how impressive could a five-year-old's talent be, unawakened spirit root and all, untrained?
He was indulging his bold new grandson now, but soon he'd distance himself—like with the other grandkids, and her.
"I'm saying this for your sake, not just talking. Don't expect too much from him, don't bother him. Got—"
The door burst open. Arian entered with a bright smile.
"Kyle! You're awake?"
Erica clamped her mouth shut. In her heat, she'd forgotten where she was. Worried Arian would call her out, but her sister just beamed.
"Kyle, come down quick. Grandpa sent tons of gifts!"
"G-gifts?"
Erica gaped blankly, but Kyle hopped off the bed calmly, unsurprised.
"Gotta brush first."
Erica stared in disbelief. Dad—the family head—sent gifts, tons, to a grandson he'd met once? And the five-year-old wasn't excited but insisted on brushing? Her head spun.
Regardless, Kyle brushed thoroughly with the servant's toothbrush, washed his face.
In his past mercenary life, mornings started with rolling out—no time for brushing often. But five years in this noble house had him hooked; skipping left him feeling off.
Refreshed, he took Arian's hand and headed downstairs. Erica trailed, still stunned, mouth agape.
On the first floor stood a knight in black uniform—the family head's elite guard. A member of Gladiheim's strongest, the Dirge Knights, set down the large box and bowed to Kyle.
"Gifts from the family head to young master Kyle."
"Where's Grandpa?"
"In morning meditation."
"I'll come thank him in person later."
The Dirge Knight smiled faintly and nodded.
"I'll relay that."
In front of everyone, Kyle approached the sealed box.
'Wonder what he sent.'
If it satisfied, Kyle might even use his babyish lisp—reserved for Arian—with Julius too.