The Villainess's Older Brother is Tired

“……Sorry. Is it a bit messy?”

When we finally stepped into Niya’s room on the dormitory’s top floor, the girl who had been walking ahead turned with an awkward smile. I followed her small back and gave her my honest opinion.

“It feels more lived-in than I expected.”

“Ahaha…… I’ve accumulated quite a lot of stuff.”

The space was far too large to call a mere student room. Part of it was thanks to Western Academy’s luxurious facilities, but the real reason was the special treatment Niya received. From magic theory to spell interpretation and practical sorcery—she had not once dropped from the top spot since enrollment. The crown badge on her robe served as visible proof of her extraordinary achievements.

Unfortunately, she seemed surprisingly hopeless at tidying up. Niya’s room was so packed with books that its generous size felt wasted, and loose sheets of paper lay scattered everywhere like a library after a typhoon.

“……Is there even room to sleep in here?”

I picked up a bundle of papers near my feet and set it aside. That was when a book with an unusually bright cover, tucked into the corner of a shelf, caught my eye. Curiosity got the better of me and I read the spine without thinking.

Love and Slavery…?

What was this suspicious title? The genre practically screamed at me. A pang of guilt hit me—as if I had accidentally peeked at my fiancée’s secret tastes—and I quietly moved to return the book to its place. I told myself I would only reference it later for the sake of a proper married life.

But Niya spotted the volume in my hand and flinched.

“Ah, that’s……”

Oops. Too late.

Contrary to my expectations, after a brief hesitation her eyes sparkled with innocent delight.

“Luke, are you also interested in slave emancipation theory?”

“……What?”

Niya took the book from me and gently stroked the cover.

“The content is actually quite good. It interprets the southern empire’s abolitionist movement through the lens of love. The central argument—if you truly love someone, you should free them rather than try to possess them—was rather striking.”

“……Ah. I see.”

So it really was an ordinary humanities book. Don’t mislead people with a cover like that.

“Of course the argumentation is a little sentimental, but when you link it to magic studies there are some genuinely interesting intersections. Especially the section comparing contract spells to status bondage—”

“…….”

Niya launched into several minutes of tedious, academic rambling. Launching into a full lecture whenever her favorite subject appeared was an old habit of hers. She only snapped out of it once the sun had completely set outside the window.

“Ah, right! That wasn’t what I wanted to show you! Just a moment!”

Only then did she slide the book back into place, carefully push aside the stack of documents on her desk, and retrieve a much larger, thicker volume hidden beneath them. She held it out to me.

The cover was dark and chaotic. Over blackened leather, indecipherable patterns had been engraved in a dizzying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jumble. I murmured under my breath.

“An ancient tome.”

Niya looked proud.

“What do you think?”

“Hm. Even if you ask me that……”

I accepted the old book and opened the first page. It didn’t take long to understand why she had been so excited.

“This is no ordinary old book. Where did it come from?”

Judging by the language, it was at least several centuries old. Even the Darcy main house’s library had nothing this ancient. Niya explained in her usual calm tone.

“When my mother passed, she left one bookshelf as part of her mementos. This was one of the volumes on it.”

“A memento……”

The Rivertun family surpassed even the Darcys in magic. If this had belonged to Niya’s late mother—a renowned mage—it was clearly no ordinary item.

“I looked at it last night and couldn’t make any sense of it. But I thought maybe you could read it, so I called you over. You’re better at deciphering than the professors, after all.”

Publicly, deciphering was one of the few fields where I clearly outshone Niya. Instead of answering I flipped through several more pages.

Much of the text was missing. There were smudged sections of ink and places where the original scribe seemed to have deliberately twisted the sentences. The language itself was chaotic. As I struggled, unable to turn the pages easily, a small, faint exclamation slipped from Niya’s lips.

“Even you can’t read it, Luke?”

I gave a tiny nod.

“Most of it.”

“But that means you understood some of it?”

“……Yes.”

I kept my face calm, but inside I was deeply shaken. Even I—who had devoured every ancient text I could find—could only grasp about ten percent of the content. From the few passages I had managed to decipher, I could only vaguely guess what this unfriendly magic book contained.

“The recording method itself is bizarre. Spells are layered multiple times, and entirely different systems have been forcibly crammed into a single volume. A 7th Gate…… perhaps even higher.”

“7th Gate……?”

The 7th Gate. A realm only those mages whose names had been recorded in continental history had ever touched. In the original work the 8th Gate had been little more than mythical, so this could essentially be considered the final gate reachable by humans.

“……I see.”

Niya didn’t seem overly surprised; she must have suspected the book was extraordinary the moment she herself ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠failed to read it.

“Did your mother ever say anything about it while she was alive?”

When I asked, Niya rested her chin on her hand and groaned, digging through her memories.

“Hmm, let’s see…… She didn’t say much. Something like ‘read the entire thing before you make any contract’? ‘There’s no such thing as free in this world, so don’t lose your head’? ”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t say behind someone’s back what you can’t say to their face. Oh, and don’t trust people too easily!”

“……Sound advice.”

Even though they were a magic family, her mother’s will had contained no actual magical guidance. Then again, any advice on magic would have been pointless for someone like Niya, who was already close to perfection as a mage. Still, leaving behind something this significant without a single warning seemed careless.

I looked down at the cover again.

It even smells old.

If this magic book truly was 7th Gate level, it was no mere curiosity to clap at and forget. It held enough power to shake the future standing of the entire Rivertun family. It might even connect to clues about Witches’ Sabbath that I didn’t yet know. The timing was also suspiciously perfect—a rare item like this right before graduation.

It’s worth investigating.

With many thoughts swirling, I finally spoke.

“Niya.”

“Yes?”

“Can you lend me this book for a month?”

Niya blinked.

“A whole month?”

“There are several parts that bother me. I’ll need to cross-reference materials and examine it thoroughly.”

Even as I said it, I felt awkward. A magic book was a mage’s priceless asset. Prestigious families had staked hundreds or thousands of lives to protect their secret tomes. No matter how engaged we were, this was a sensitive request—

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Niya nodded more readily than I expected. I stared at her, stunned. A gentle smile rested on her face.

“Because I trust you, Luke.”

Those naive, defenseless words made me smile despite myself.

“……Didn’t your mother tell you not to trust people so easily?”

“It’s okay. I’ve always been a child who doesn’t listen well. Mother probably never expected me to follow all her advice anyway.”

“That…… does sound like her.”

“Right?”

Despite her gentle demeanor, Niya possessed a strangely stubborn core—closer to conviction than mere obstinacy. The type who would push forward with her own will even when misfortune struck. In any case, she was a good person. It was exactly why I had fallen for her.

I hugged the ancient tome to my chest and made a promise.

“Thank you, Niya. I’ll let you know the moment I finish deciphering it. There’s no benefit in dragging it out.”

“Yes, please do.”

It was something Niya had trusted me with. I couldn’t treat it carelessly. I was about to excuse myself to begin work immediately when I felt a tug on the back of my robe.

“Wait, Luke.”

“……?”

When I turned, Niya was clutching my sleeve while slightly avoiding my eyes.

“It’s gotten quite late. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Well, I could just eat something simple when I get back. Chloe should be preparing dinner around now.”

“……How about eating here before you go?”

“Here?”

I had already jumped to conclusions several times today. This time I tried hard not to misunderstand and to accept her kindness rationally. But when I saw the faint blush on Niya’s cheeks, my thoughts began to shift.

“Actually, before I called you today I tried baking a meat pie. It’s too much for me to eat alone, so…… I was hoping you’d share it with me.”

A faint tremor lingered at the end of her voice. The pale nape of her neck, something I would normally overlook, suddenly seemed striking. Niya tugged my sleeve again, urging.

“You’ll eat and then go, right?”

It was an utterly ordinary question. Yet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for some reason it made my throat feel dry. I stared at her for a moment, forgetting to answer, then finally nodded.

“……I suppose so.”

As I answered, one fact suddenly came to mind: Niya Rivertun might be first-rate when it came to magic, but her physical stamina was strictly third-rate. And that day, I experienced that truth firsthand.

Niya really did have terrible stamina.

#14.

“Welcome back, Master Luke.”

It was already midnight when I returned to the detached villa. The moment I entered the entrance hall, Chloe was waiting. She must have seen me through the window.

“You’re quite late today.”

“I had something to discuss with a friend.”

“I see.”

As usual I removed my robe and handed it to her. Chloe accepted it with practiced ease, then lifted her head to look at me.

“How would you like to handle dinner?”

“Ah, I already ate outside. Sorry for not letting you know beforehand. You probably prepared my portion too.”

“It’s fine. I can take care of the leftovers.”

Chloe delivered the line—impossible to tell whether it was a joke or serious—and offered nothing more. She didn’t ask about my whereabouts. That stoic attitude felt especially welcome today.

“What about Amel?”

I smiled awkwardly and glanced toward the stairs. Normally Amelia would have slipped out by now to tease me for staying out late. What is the future head of the family doing at this hour?

……Yet today the house was unusually quiet.

After a brief pause Chloe answered.

“She said she was feeling slightly unwell and retired to her bedroom early.”

“Is that so……?”

Whether she took after her stepmother or not, Amelia had always been prone to minor illnesses. When my expression darkened, Chloe spoke reassuringly.

“There’s no need for great concern. It’s only a mild fever. By tomorrow morning it should improve, and she’ll be able to attend the ceremony without difficulty.”

“……That’s a relief.”

Come to think of it, tomorrow was the graduation ceremony. Once it ended we would leave this detached villa and return to the main house. From then on I would begin working in earnest as head of the family. The days we could spend together like this were now numbered.

The realization brought both regret and relief. The sense of distance I had felt from Amelia over the past year was far too intimate for mere siblings. Linking arms was routine; she had casually demanded things like cheek kisses and lap pillows without embarrassment. None of it could be dismissed as simple mischief.

What exactly did the girl feel toward me? Attachment? Dependence? I wasn’t sure. And at this point I no longer wanted to know. The emotion would fade in a few days. I could simply continue acting natural, the way I always had.

As I comforted myself with that thought, Chloe suddenly spoke.

“Congratulations, Master Luke.”

The remark was so unexpected I reflexively asked,

“For what?”

“For truly becoming the head of the family.”

Chloe stood with my robe neatly folded over her arm, gaze lowered. I couldn’t tell whether she was simply congratulating me on my new position or if she had noticed the unfamiliar presence still clinging to the robe. But one thing was clear: Chloe’s words occasionally carried hidden barbs—sharp enough to make the listener flinch.

#15.

In Amelia’s bedroom, where even moonlight refused to enter, she lay beneath the covers but was not asleep. On the contrary, she was more vividly awake than ever. The reason hovered before her eyes—the abominable message that had appeared several hours earlier.

It was a drop she had experienced multiple times in just a few days. All her efforts had turned to dust. The day Luke brought Niya to meet her. The day the two of them went on a date outside the academy. The day they visited the library alone together at Western. And today, when he had only returned after midnight. Every time Luke left her field of vision, the Connection fell without fail.

And Amelia roughly understood why.

……Even though you said you loved me.

Luke Darcy had shared love with a woman who was not her. Luke Darcy had chosen a woman who was not her. That woman had surely enjoyed pleasures Amelia had never tasted. An unpleasant fantasy began to tear through her mind.

They must have exchanged saliva in deep kisses, shared lover’s embraces, whispered sweet nothings, and ultimately entwined on the same bed. Those were dreams Amelia could never reach no matter how hard she tried.

Why…… why……

Amelia bit her lip hard. When she imagined Luke’s happy face, a vague terror rose inside her.

Is it impossible for me?

It was a pathetic thought now, but Amelia had not intended to resent Niya from the beginning. She had tried to convince herself that Luke’s happiness would be enough. That was why she had forced herself to act normal these past few days, maintaining a façade of calm so their daily life could continue peacefully.

Yet all that remained was emptiness. Amelia, greedy by nature, could not accept the reality she had been given. If every time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Luke found happiness with another woman that cursed message appeared, and if every word of it was true—could she truly endure it?

Amelia asked herself the question and answered it. It was impossible. It would be hell.

She had no confidence she could live as a lifelong extra. At the same time, she considered such a life unworthy of a Darcy.

Better to die than to lose him.

Once her thoughts reached that point, Amelia rose from the bed with her frail body. In the darkness she looked at herself in the mirror. Or rather, at the message floating above it.

There wasn’t much time left. She had to make up for everything she had lost. Having ended her days of anguish, Amelia left the room and headed for Luke’s bedroom. The only things she brought were her slender body and a single sharp blade.

The choice at the final branching point had been decided.