Having grown up on anime and manga in my previous life, the prospect of gaining powers really excited me, even though the development of magical aptitude wasn’t guaranteed—they wouldn’t quicken in just anybody. But if I was dissatisfied with anything about the situation, it wasn’t that. What really bothered me was that these latent powers awoke in people at the age of ten at earliest. As I was only five years old, I still had at least another five years’ wait to see if I’d be blessed.
“And that’s if I even get any powers at all. But never mind that,” I sighed to myself. Right now, there was something else that was even more pressing. My home, which belonged to Baron Clematis, was in an area far removed from the royal capital. The surrounding lands were vast and verdant, and despite the baron’s status as a lesser noble, his territory was exceptional.
It did have one huge problem, though.
This world was inhabited by monsters—violent creatures far more dangerous and fearsome than simple wild beasts. These monsters roamed the Clematis lands in droves, making further development of the countryside nearly impossible. Precious few wanted to live there despite the sweeping expanse of pristine land—the only settlement was a single village.
As these lands produced nothing of value whatsoever, my house had very little money remaining after we’d paid our taxes to the kingdom. We could do nothing to help ourselves, much less the villagers, and they suffered all the more for our impoverished state.
Though I was the third son of a baron, I lived just as the villagers did. I broke bread just once a day—literally. I was only given a single rock-hard bread roll for my daily meal. If I was lucky, I might get some inexpensive fruit to go with it, but they never tasted any good. Those were additions certainly made for their nutritional value and not their flavor.
I was in hell. My entire life before I’d been reincarnated had been nothing but working incessantly to the point of exhaustion, and now, in my second life, I had neither money nor food. On top of that, my parents gave all the love they had to my two older brothers, who bullied me relentlessly. The only people who showed any concern for my welfare were my three sisters.
My new life in another world was ending—in fact, it was practically over already. At first glance I’d thought I had been blessed with the perfect fantasy RPG world I had always longed for, but once I’d gotten a deeper look, I realized I’d been cursed with a mediocre story route full of destitution.
I had a lot of time on my hands too. Being a five-year-old child, I had little to do beyond helping in the fields every now and then. It was nothing like the pastoral work I’d always dreamed of.
“This sucks! I hate this new life!” Frustrated, I couldn’t help but vocalize my dissatisfaction. Dropping to my knees, I hung my head low with my hands splayed on the floor. Since my reincarnation, I’d long lost count of the number of times I’d fallen to the ground like this, which just went to show how utterly wretched my lot in life had been. I’m sure I would’ve perished long ago—if not from starvation, then almost certainly by my own hand—if it wasn’t for my three sisters.
My sisters were not family by blood—it would be more accurate to call them my stepsisters. Some time ago they—along with a substantial sum of money—had ended up in the family when their house fell, as father had been on friendly terms with their lord. But the lack of blood relations didn’t stop them from caring for me. Honestly, they were the only people who treated me kindly, so they had nothing but my utmost appreciation.
Azalea, the eldest of the three, would often do things like giving me meat to eat behind father’s back. I’d always share that meat with Cosmos, my youngest sister, and that was the one ray of sunshine in my life.
“If only there was something that’d turn this hellhole around,” I mumbled. After a moment, I got to my feet. No matter how distraught and irritated I was, no amount of bellyaching was going to prevent my belly from actually aching. It rumbled incessantly, well aware that it was nearly time for breakfast. A pall of melancholy hanging over me, I left my room with a grimace and headed down to the dining room on the first floor.
☆
Except for me and Armeria, the middle of my three sisters, my whole family was already assembled by the time I arrived at the dining room. I sat in one of the empty seats across from my two brothers, who took the opportunity to engage in snarky banter.
“Hey, Hisui. You took ages getting down here today, so we thought you didn’t want your breakfast,” laughed one.
“You’d better be thankful! If Azalea hadn’t saved some bread for you, it would’ve been long gone,” sneered the other.
Glenn and Mikhail grinned as though they’d told the funniest joke in the world, seemingly unaware of the cruelty behind their words—or perhaps they just didn’t care. Their smirks were made all the more irritating by the brown hair and general appearance they’d gotten from father. But if I picked a fight by talking back, it would be a fight I couldn’t win. My brains wouldn’t help me in an outright brawl.
Laughing nervously, I decided to simply thank Azalea, who was sitting two seats away.
“Don’t worry ’bout it. Glenn and Mikhail are just messin’ with you. Eat up, Hisui,” she replied, then cut a little meatball into two and gave me and Cosmos one half each.
Seeing this, father spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Stop that, Azalea. That’s your breakfast.”
“Yeah, and I can do what I want with my breakfast, can’t I? Hisui and Cosmos are still growing. They won’t get big and tall without any food.”
“You have work. You need to conserve your energy for your duties.”
“I’ve got plenty of that, don’t worry,” she retorted without missing a beat. I could tell she was lying, though. Anyone could, really, considering she was wrapped in bandages.
Magecraft had manifested in her at the ripe young age of ten. Following her awakening, she’d undergone intense training and, at father’s behest, began culling the monsters on our lands when she was only twelve—when she was still a child, not even a teenager.
It was widely understood that magecraft was exceptional in combat, but regardless, fighting monsters was no easy task. My heart went out to her every time I saw how haggard she’d gotten, dragging her injured body home day in and day out. Azalea worked harder than anyone else, and she did it for all our sakes. I could do nothing to help, and that fact made me hate myself more than anything else.
“No. Don’t make me repeat myself. Hisui and Cosmos have more than enough food, so pipe down and eat your breakfast.” Father’s tone was harsh, clearly indicating he would brook no further resistance...not that it mattered, of course.
“What?! You’re telling me that’s enough food?!” Azalea snapped.
“Azalea...” I stopped her, my voice even. She looked as though she were ready to hit father. If she dared to do so and threw some power into her punch, he’d be grievously injured, especially as he had no magic of his own. Magecraft was overwhelmingly powerful. If Azalea wasn’t careful, her actions would be tantamount to assault at the very least; even if she did manage to pull her punch, her standing within the social hierarchy of our house would come crashing down. I didn’t want that to happen, so I had to stop her whenever she was about to get herself into this kind of mess. At least I could be useful that way, since I had no power otherwise.
Azalea suddenly came to a sharp halt. The stupidity of punching father’s lights out must’ve occurred to her too. Instead, she clenched her fist in frustration, and crimson began to seep through her bandages. She must have been squeezing her hand so tightly that it had reopened her wound, but she paid it no mind and returned to her breakfast. Though her attempt at kindness had been shot down in the end, at least Cosmos and I each still had the little piece of meat Azalea had given us at the start of our meal.
Across the table, Glenn and Mikhail were still grinning nastily, although this time it was directed toward Azalea. I really hoped those two got what was coming to them one of these days. Then father spoke to me, tone unaffected and indifferent, despite everything that had just happened.
“I’d nearly forgotten—Hisui, bring some bread to Armeria once you finish your breakfast.”
“I will,” I responded obediently, despite my silent disdain. All they were willing to give to a sick child was a single piece of bread. Armeria had fallen terribly ill about a year ago, and she was usually confined to her bed. Fearing contagion, father had quarantined her in her room, and the rest of us were forbidden from seeing her outside of mealtimes. Since I was the one who brought Armeria her meals, it was plain that father thought nothing of the possibility that I might fall ill, of course. His thoughtfulness was oh-so-very touching.
“I-I’ll go with you, Hisui,” Cosmos, who was sitting next to me, said in a faltering voice. I shook my head.
“You can’t. It would be awful if you got sick too.”
“But still...” she mumbled.
“It’s okay. I’ll tell Armeria that you wanted to see her.”