Chapter 72 : Sweet Bomb

Chapter 72: Sweet Bomb

“Oppa! Oppa! Open your eyes! Oppa!”

Something shook my body.

A warmth so familiar and dearly missed.

“What are you doing! Why isn’t the magician here yet! Call them! Hurry! Hurry!”

The voice sounded terribly urgent.

This isn’t good...

Don’t be anxious, kid.

I was here, after all.

For some reason, I wanted to pat that back.

Who I was.

Whose voice this was.

Even though I was so dazed and muddled, with no strength to recall anything...

I just felt like I had to.

“Oppa? Oppa? Are you awake?”

Forcing, truly straining open my eyelids, I saw a faint light, and standing against that light was some girl.

Short red hair, cut neat.

That cute brat who always pretended to be prickly.

Ah,

I remembered now.

“My youngest. Don’t cry...”

My youngest.

Daisy.

---

A few days earlier,

“How could everyone be like this?”

Daisy was in a full sulk.

“Don’t you even worry? What if he comes back hurt again?!”

She stomped the floor hard with her foot for no reason.

Because really, they had gone too far.

Her unnies, her oppas, all of them!

‘Doing our work is helping.’ That was the kind of cold-blooded nonsense they said.

The cultists’ chapel in Kashu City.

Daisy stayed there alone.

Waiting for Ransen to return.

At least Knight Burson often stopped by, but even that wasn’t enough to satisfy Daisy.

And Varen-oppa would occasionally just slip in, look around silently, and leave without a word.

Of course, she knew they were all busy… but still!

“Anyway, I don’t like any of it! Ransen-oppa... No, that guy is the same! How could he just leave without even a word?!”

Ransen.

A man whose emotions were like a desert, all dried up.

How could he just go?

One day, when Daisy asked Senya-unni, ‘Where did he go?’, she got the reply, ‘He’s gone. Ten thousand years ago.’ And Daisy had been so dumbfounded.

Right then, she rode her horse straight to the chapel in Kashu City, and had been staying and eating there ever since.

“I’m never calling him oppa again. Just that guy. Look at what he does. He’s just that guy.”

Grinding her teeth, Daisy spent her days like that.

Inside the dark chapel, the sound of blades slicing through air rang again and again.

Just as Ransen had taught her, she never let go of her sword, training in perfectly precise slashes and thrusts, pushes and pulls, not letting her blade waver a single millimeter.

Slowly at first, then gradually faster, and finally with all her strength.

So even while she focused on training, the moment a gust of wind swept in from outside—whish!—her ears perked up.

When a cat’s paws pattered softly—tap tap—across the chapel floor through the open window, her ears perked up again.

Of course, it wasn’t as if Daisy guarded the chapel twenty-four hours a day.

She was the type who hated feeling confined.

So once in the morning or in the afternoon, she took a walk.

“Ah, this is nice—”

Having stayed in the dim chapel, stepping outside felt like even a prisoner would savor the thrill of release.

She fully enjoyed the sky and the city beneath it, but as the time to return approached, her steps grew faster and faster.

Could it be that Ransen had come back?

In the end, she ran at full speed, dashing back and throwing open the chapel doors.

Bang!

“Eek!”

At her overwhelming force, the soldier guarding the chapel in her stead jumped in fright.

Daisy’s eyes swept left and right in a flash.

“He didn’t come?”

“N-no, he hasn’t returned.”

“Got it. You can go.”

The soldiers only knew that Ransen traveled elsewhere using a space-shifting artifact.

As she watched the soldier hurry out, Daisy let out a deep sigh—whoosh!

“Ugh, this is so frustrating. When is he coming back? Honestly, Ransen, that gu... no, that guy! Argh!”

Her irritation boiled up, and it was always worse at night.

“Uuugh! When that guy finally shows up, I’m smacking him right across the back first thing.”

Daisy lay down in her sleeping bag in the middle of the chapel.

Normally, she wasn’t picky about where she slept, but here… this place was different.

Distorted statues loomed in the darkness, glimpsed faintly in the shadows.

It really felt like they were watching her. It was… unsettling.

She had nightmares every time she slept.

“I won’t let him off easy.”

So it was on the fourth day since Ransen had left.

That day too, Daisy was swinging her sword furiously in frustration when she heard something fall—whump!

She turned her head, saw it, leapt—her movements all flowing in a single breath.

Slaaash—!

As Ransen fell headfirst toward the floor, Daisy slid on her knees and caught him before he hit.

Thud.

His hand dropped limply to the ground.

His face was pale, his whole body drenched in blood...

“Oppa!”

Daisy’s own face turned even paler than Ransen’s.

Hurriedly, she pulled out the potions she had prepared, forcing some into him, applying others onto his wounds, all while shouting:

“Magician! Call the magician!”

---

Flicker.

When light returned to my world, which had sunk into darkness,

I could see the welcome faces surrounding me.

“Oppa, are you okay?”

“Hyung! You’re awake?!”

“You told us to trust you... But then you come back like this, all torn up... what are we supposed to do...”

I looked at the faces of my younger siblings one by one.

Ah, right.

Here it was.

The very next page, I had so desperately wanted to read.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Magician! Magician! Are you sure he’s really okay?!”

“You told us to trust you, so I held it in... I held it in and only worked...”

They all looked so tense that I quickly opened my dry lips.

“Everyone...”

“Oh? He spoke!”

“Everyone... thank you.”

“Thank you? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah. For being alive... for being here...”

I spread my arms wide.

The kids flinched, hesitating.

So I only spread them wider and nodded.

One by one, they approached me and hugged me. They all seemed awkward about it, now that they were older, but once they embraced me, they sighed deeply as though relieved.

But not everyone could be the same.

Nineteen years old. Still suffering from “the 15-year-old syndrome,” our Mika Seitous stood apart, frowning on her own.

“Ugh. So cringy. Anyway, I’ve seen you’re safe, right? I’m leaving.”

She then opened a book and stepped out the door, reading as she went. A glance at the cover told me it was one of those novels popular these days. Something about knights’ courage and love or whatever...

After hugging all my younger siblings (except Mika), one person remained.

His eyes were bloodshot, red from crying too much—this bear of a man.

“Why are you like this, Uncle? I’m fine.”

When I asked that, Knight Burson answered.

“Your Highness.”

“Uh, huh?”

He was calling me by that title?

All of a sudden?

Of course, it was the proper title.

I was the only royal of Banroa, the first heir to the throne. On top of that, now I ruled three cities, so being called Your Highness wasn’t wrong...

But wasn’t it a bit awkward? It wasn’t like this was some grave moment...

Yet, to Knight Burson, it must have been grave.

“I... I loathe myself.”

Tears streamed hot down his cheeks.

No, Uncle... why? You’re breaking my heart.

“No, me getting hurt wasn’t your fault...”

“I just imagined it. What if something happened to Your Highness... I imagined such a disloyal future.”

Well, that could happen. Especially after what happened back then.

“And then I realized. I cannot protect anything...”

Ah...

“This man is so... so powerless and pathetic...”

I had no words for him.

Because I knew it all too well. The despair Knight Burson was feeling now.

I had felt it too.

I had been the same...

I only reached out and clasped Uncle Burson’s thick hand.

But inside,

I had never once forgotten.

I had always searched, and searched again.

So that I could bring to Burson the very miracle that had once come to me.

---

“Uncle Burson. Try drinking this.”

After getting up and dusting ourselves off, we enjoyed a light picnic.

We had all gathered in the prettiest garden in Kashu City.

Being able to use such a place at will—that was... the taste of power?

We drank tea, drank wine, ate snacks.

And then, slipping it in casually, I handed Burson a potion.

“What’s this?”

Truly, he was an adult.

Just a moment ago, he had been crying so bitterly, but now his face looked perfectly calm, as if nothing had happened.

But no matter how steady he looked outside, inside he must have been rotting away.

“Just try it.”

Though puzzled, Uncle didn’t ask further. He downed the little vial of red liquid in one gulp.

Without a trace of suspicion.

And then—

“Urgh...!”

Burson clutched his chest and collapsed forward.

“Huh? Uncle!”

“Uncle, what’s wrong?!”

“Oppa? Why is Uncle—? What’s happening?!”

Katrina, who had been dragging Varen into a game of catch, Senya, who had been scribbling verses alone, and Mika, who had been grinning as she read her novel—all threw down what they were doing and rushed over.

“Shh.”

I pushed the panicked kids aside and placed my hand on Burson’s back.

Channeling a faint aura, I examined his condition.

‘Good. It’s working.’

What I had given him was one among the many magical items I had received from Lorraine.

‘A Peak Recovery Potion.’

When the aura core shatters, the body crumbles from within.

The aura once flowing throughout the body loses its course, turning into poison that gnaws away at the inside.

Push the body even slightly, and hemorrhaging bursts forth, leading to coughing up blood.

That was the very reason I couldn’t teach Burson the ancient swordsmanship.

Even though ancient swordsmanship required no aura, his weakened body wouldn’t have been able to endure it.

But not anymore.

‘Even though one Peak Recovery Potion won’t heal the core itself....’

It would still be enough to restore his tattered body.

“Uuugh... huh?”

Sure enough, Uncle Burson, who had been groaning in pain, slowly rose.

“Huh?”

He swung his arms around, tilting his head in surprise.

“Huhhh?”

A look of astonishment spread wider and wider across his face.

“How does it feel? Refreshing, right?”

“What is this…?”

“For now, endure with this. Keep taking it regularly, and let’s start ancient swordsmanship again.”

“...!”

Uncle Burson couldn’t utter a single word.

As his eyes grew bloodshot and his head sank lower, I quickly gripped both his shoulders.

“Uncle, you’re the one who has to protect us. So don’t think about anything else. Just take it one step at a time.”

Uncle bit his lips tight and nodded.

As though if he spoke, the tears would burst out.

Good. Then that part was settled.

I smiled and turned back.

“Alright, everyone, line up!”

My younger siblings, who had been watching with red eyes, tilted their heads curiously.

I pulled out handfuls of ancient snacks, stored in my subspace necklace.

The ancient snacks Lorraine had gifted me by the armful every day. Finally, the moment had come to share them with my siblings.

I handed the first to Mika Seitous, who was closest.

Nineteen years old, yet still a terminal case of “15-year-old syndrome,” our Mika.

“What’s this?”

“Try it.”

At that, the boy chuckled—“Ah\~ so it’s a snack? A luxury unrelated to survival... ridiculous. Heheh.”—and tore open the wrapper, tossing it into his mouth.

And then I saw it.

The lightning storm swirling in his pupils.

“T-this is...?!”

Right? That’s an ancient snack, brat.

The moment it touched your tongue, that melting sweetness was unparalleled. What lingered was only the refreshing scent rising to your nose.

A sweetness crafted using mana itself.

“Snack?”

Watching that, Katrina shredded open a whole bundle of wrappers at once and stuffed them into her mouth.

Then she chewed, crunching away.

“Mmm! Delicious!”

Seeing this, Mika glared at her with utter contempt.

“Barbarian!!! That’s not how you eat it!! Even savoring each piece isn’t enough...!”

“Barbarian?”

“Khmm! Hrmm!”

But when Katrina’s eyes flashed, Mika instantly tucked her tail and feigned indifference.

Cute kids.

Yeah. This was it.

This was the very reason to journey to the ancients.

“Everyone, line up!”

I pressed ancient snacks into each of their hands.

“Sweet things don’t build muscle...” Zaltran muttered.

“Might be good when your head won’t work.” Senya gave her short review.

“Wow! So tasty!” Seklan exclaimed, eyes wide like a child.

“This... could sell for money, right?” Jia mused, covered in sparkling jewelry.

“Mmm! A flavor that makes me want to swing my spear!” said Luccrancer, a training fanatic who rivaled Katrina in stamina.

And then, the only one among us with the bloodline of magicians.

The sole heir of Banroa’s marquis-and-count line that had produced magicians—the descendant of the Count House of Krona, Asha Krona... did something insane, fitting for a magician.

“Huh...? This has mana? Then if I do this...?”

BOOOM!

The soft, sweet snacks she had tossed exploded in midair, leaving behind multicolored fireworks.

“Ooooh. I like it.... Ooooh...”

Bang! BOOOM!

Bursting dessert bombs.

‘Was that even right...?’

It was bewildering, sure,

But fine. The kids loved it, after all.

And that made me happy too.

“Did you… bring back a lot this time?”

While I watched with satisfaction, sharp-eyed Senya asked.

Of course.

I had brought back a ton.

This time’s journey through time had produced the greatest results yet.

Ah, come to think of it, I’d forgotten something important.

“Asha! You too, come here.”

“Mmm...”

Maybe because she was still caught up in the fun of the snack fireworks, Asha walked over with a somewhat reluctant face.

In front of Asha and Senya, I laid out a pile of battered books, two cubic crystals, and two pairs of beads no larger than fingernails.

They were the basic materials among the magical books and notes given to me by Cask.

And the tools that allowed one to learn them through telepathy: the “Reader” and the “Bud.”

At their puzzled expressions, I asked lightly.

“Would you two like to learn ancient magic?”

“!!!”

Lightning flashed in Asha’s eyes. Actual sparks of mana leapt out, making her hair stand on end.

In contrast, Senya only gazed steadily up at me.

“But I don’t have talent with mana.”

Of course I knew. Senya’s family, the House of Mila, was a sword-using line. Though what they were most famous for was strategy.

“Ancient magic follows a completely different system, so it doesn’t matter if you have mana aptitude. Still not interested?”

“!!!”

This time, lightning flashed in Senya’s eyes too.

The two of them snatched the items from my hands as if someone might steal them away.

They quickly followed my instructions, placing the Buds into their ears and setting the Readers atop their books.

“Mmm...! This is ancient magic?!”

Asha gasped in awe, while—

“A completely new approach.... A framework that even connects with ancient swordsmanship...”

Senya analyzed.

Their expressions didn’t usually show much, so others might not have noticed—but I knew.

Both of them were brimming with excitement.

Looking at their faces like this, I finally felt it deep in my bones.

That I had come back alive.

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