He stood there for a long moment, the grand hallway feeling like the mouth of a gilded beast. He had a choice: face the humiliation of his failure, or retreat to his room and plan. He chose the latter, but he didn't get far.
A new set of footsteps, light and hurried, echoed from behind.
"Is that bully here yet?" Mina's voice, laced with worry, cut through the oppressive silence.
Hiruko turned, a wry smile on his face. "Yeah. Don't worry, you're right on time."
Mina's expression softened into one of genuine concern. "So, he met with you? More importantly, did he do something to you?"
Hiruko instinctively touched his aching shoulder. The pain was a sharp, constant reminder of Tristan's cruelty. "Sure did. That guy has some power. My shoulder still hurts."
Mina's eyes widened. "Are you fine? Should I get a doctor?" she asked, taking a step toward him, her hand half-extended.
"No, I'm fine," Hiruko said. "But thanks for worrying about me."
Mina's cheeks immediately flushed, and she looked away, her voice strained. "It's… it's not like I'm worried about you or anything. I was just concerned if he damaged Lukas's body."
Oh, boy, isn't the tsundere archetype out of fashion already? Stop with the cliches, Hiruko thought to himself, a small, genuine smile touching his lips. It was oddly comforting to see her trying so hard to hide her true feelings.
He decided to change the subject before she short-circuited. "Oh, by the way, the Goldie asked me to meet him this afternoon."
Mina's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a fierce, protective seriousness. "Why? Don't tell me he knows?"
"Nah, don't worry," Hiruko said. "He said he wanted to see my fireball spell and probably wanted to roast me."
Mina's eyes went wide. "Roast? You mean burn you?! We have to do something!" She started pacing frantically, her hands clenching into fists. "If a genius like him wants to kill you, it's real trouble! Even though I'm considered a prodigy, even four of myself wouldn't be enough to stop him. If I were the same age as him, things would be different, but even then I do—"
"Wait, wait, you're misunderstanding," Hiruko interrupted, a chuckle escaping his lips. "It's not the kind of roast you're thinking of."
Mina stopped pacing, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Then what kind of roast are we talking about?"
"It has one more meaning," Hiruko explained, "to insult someone or make fun of them. It's a term from my world. Calm down."
Mina's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "Then you should have said that sooner, idiot!"
"Well, seeing you panic sure made me feel less pressure," Hiruko said, the smile on his face widening. "It made me realize that he's not going to kill me. The situation isn't that bad yet."
Mina's expression softened, her voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "Even though he's a bully and a scumbag, he wouldn't get his hands dirty to kill someone, much less his own brother. It could affect his career and reputation."
"Hey, are you and the Goldie close or something?" Hiruko asked, a curious thought suddenly popping into his head.
"Well, I saw him a couple of times when I visited the Tross mansion to play with Lukas, always playing his fake, perfect role, but we're not close," she said, her expression guarded.
Thank God, I thought he might have had eyes for her, Hiruko thought to himself, a wave of unexpected relief washing over him.
"But why are you asking?" Mina asked, her gaze sharpening.
"Just out of curiosity," Hiruko said, feigning nonchalance. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for the afternoon."
"Alright, alright, but be careful. He is one of the few mages who can use light magic in these world" Mina said. "Do you need my help training you?"
"Nah, I'm fine," Hiruko said with a wave of his hand. "You can go play with Clarissa and Tristan or something."
Mina's face turned a shade of red, a mixture of anger and hurt. "See if I care!" she yelled before rushing off, leaving Hiruko to walk back to his room alone.
Once inside, he let out a long sigh and slumped against the heavy oak door. "Light magic sounds quite imposing, fits him quite well" He said, trying to stay calm, but it was a futile effort. "It's not like training will do much in this little time," he said to himself. "I don't need to train my spell. I need to train my mind. I need to prepare for him and whatever torture he plans to put me through."
The clock in Hiruko's mind ticked louder than the grand one in the foyer. The minutes leading up to the confrontation felt like hours. But eventually, he stood in the expansive garden in front of the mansion, the perfectly manicured hedges and vibrant flowers a stark contrast to the storm of nerves brewing inside him. A message through Theresa from Tristan had specified the location—a place of beauty and quiet, the perfect stage for Lukas to get humiliated.
He tried to steady his racing heart, his mind frantically replaying the properties of the fireball spell. He knew its flaws, its wobbly trajectory, and its pathetic range. He was a man with a single, flawed weapon, facing an opponent who was an arsenal unto himself. The sun warmed his back, but he felt a bone-deep chill. The clock was about to strike four.
How good would it be if he just didn't show up? he thought, a fleeting, desperate hope. But even as the thought formed, he knew it was wishful thinking.
Just as the bell tolled, a figure arrived, right on time. Tristan, the golden boy, radiated an effortless power, his yellow hair shimmering in the late afternoon light. He wasn't alone. Clarissa and Mina were with him, their faces a mixture of concern and quiet resolve.
"So, my little brother, are you ready?" Tristan's voice was a smooth, melodic hum, laced with an arrogant confidence. "I suppose I gave you enough time."
"Let's get this over and done with, brother," Hiruko replied, the words coming out with a strained, defiant confidence.
Tristan's eyes twitched, a momentary flash of anger. He was trying to hold his composure, but Hiruko's unexpected retort had struck a nerve. "Confident, are we? Let's see what the genius Rosewalt prodigy taught you, shall we?"
Mina stepped forward, her voice a low, encouraging whisper. "Lukas, I know you can do it. Just try to remember what I taught you."
Hiruko and Tristan stepped forward, facing each other in the center of the garden. Tristan's towering figure seemed to eclipse the sun, casting a long shadow over Hiruko. Just as the tension reached its peak, Theresa arrived, her voice a crisp, professional command.
"I will be acting as the overseer in this match."
Tristan's disappointment was clear in a single, dismissive "Tch." Hiruko's mind raced, a flicker of understanding dawning on him. Clarissa or Mina must have arranged this. They had brought in a witness, a neutral party, to ensure Tristan wouldn't do anything extreme.
Theresa got into position and raised her hand. "Are you two ready?"
They both agreed. Hiruko, who a moment ago had been a frantic mess, suddenly felt a wave of determination and strength wash over him. Tristan, seeing the change in his eyes, was momentarily flustered, a flicker of surprise in his expression.
"You may begin," Theresa announced.
"Ign—" Hiruko began, but his words were lost in a sudden, violent swirl. A flash of light erupted from Tristan's hand, a blinding, instantaneous burst of mana. The garden was instantly enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke, a swirling, suffocating fog that swallowed the dueling ground whole.
The crowd gasped, their frantic whispers and coughs filling the air. No one could see a thing.
As the fog slowly, agonizingly cleared, Theresa's voice rang out, clear and final. "The winner is Tristan."
Hiruko's body was face-down on the ground. It felt like an eternity had passed, a slow, agonizing period of time in the dark, but he knew it had only been a few seconds. The defeat was instantaneous, total, and completely crushing.
"So sad, little brother," Tristan's voice was a smooth, contemptuous hum from above. Hiruko lay motionless, face pressed against the damp earth. The sound of Tristan's polished boots drew closer, then stopped. "I thought maybe the genius Rosewalt could have made you into something more than useless."
Mina's hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she remained rooted in place.
Tristan crouched down, bringing his face level with Hiruko's. "But you, my brother, are a complete disappointment."
Hiruko remained silent, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the sky. He showed no reaction, a silent, unreadable void. A satisfied smile touched Tristan's lips. He understood. This silent acknowledgment, this quiet defeat, showed that Lukas had comprehended the vast chasm of power between them. The gap was as wide as heaven and earth.
"Theresa, I am tired. It's been a long journey, and spending my time with my family really takes a toll on me." He whispered to Hiruko, his voice a low hiss, "Not that I got tired fighting with you, though. Keep that in mind."
Tristan stood and turned to the head maid. "Show me to my quarters, will you?"
"As you wish, my Lord," Theresa replied, her voice a soft formality. She escorted him away, leaving the dueling ground a silent, rain-slicked stage.
As soon as he was gone, Clarissa and Mina ran to Hiruko, their concern a stark contrast to the earlier cruelty. Clarissa knelt beside him, gently pulling his head into her lap. "Are you okay, Hiro? You can't lose hope with this. Lukas got through so much more than you."
"He can cast his light spell without even a chant," Mina added, her voice thick with frustration. "There was no competition to begin with. Come on, get on your feet."
Just as they spoke, a cold rain began to fall, turning the garden into a blur of gray and green. Maids scurried out from the mansion, a flurry of motion and color, but their umbrellas were meant only for the nobility. They gave cover to Clarissa and Mina, leaving Hiruko, the failure, the disappointment, exposed to the downpour.
Under the cold, incessant rain, Mina and Clarissa fell silent, their eyes locked on Hiruko. Rain streamed down his face, masking the tears he wasn't able to hide. His shoulders shook. He tried to speak, but the words were a choked, broken sound.
"I didn't... didn't even get the chance to... to." He raised his hand to the sky, his fingers clenching into a fist.
"Damn it!" he screamed, the sound lost in the pouring rain.