Home/The Reincarnated Hero Is Melancholic/ch5

Chapter 5

Whether it was emotion that whetted his appetite, or simply that he hadn't eaten enough to be satisfied—either way, Werner soon polished off all three slices of cake.

'…He really can eat.'

I felt like a spectator at a cake-eating contest. Just watching made my stomach ache, so I sipped the tea Werner had brewed for me.

After cleaning his plate, Werner's cheeks, which had looked a little pale just moments before, were now flushed with color.

"Good, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Even better because you brought it, little tyke."

Oh, please. Who's the little tyke here?

I briefly recalled a truth no one else knew, then simply smiled along with Werner.

Truth be told, I had actually missed that nickname during the two months he'd been away at the territory.

"Were you worried about me?"

"It'd be a lie to say I wasn't. Father and Big Brother felt the same."

"…Father and Brother too?"

"Of course."

Truthfully, the two of them had brushed it off, but seeing Werner's face brighten the moment I said it, I knew it was good to add that.

Though he sometimes clashed with Kizef out of competitiveness, Werner essentially looked up to his older brother. It was no exaggeration to say that everyone in the ducal residence knew that Werner's greatest respect, after Father Calips, was for Kizef.

If I had to put it into words—he admired and loved his brother, so he tried hard to be like him.

'He's really adorable, truly.'

I smiled fondly for a moment, then changed the subject.

"How was the territory? Anything happen?"

"Plenty happened."

"Really?"

"Like how I was bored to death without our little tyke around."

"What kind of answer is that…"

I sighed at the nonsense that made my brief concern seem pointless, and Werner chuckled.

Seeing him joke around, he seemed to have regained his spirits.

Just then, Werner leaned back, stretched his arms upward, and spoke.

"Still, it really was dull. No youngest to play with, no brother to spar with, and I even had to eat alone…"

"…You ate alone too?"

"Yeah. And the work just kept piling up day after day. If Uncle Michael hadn't called me back early, I'd have been stuck there another month for sure."

Though he answered playfully, his look of distaste showed his boredom had been genuine.

Well, Werner never liked sitting at a desk to begin with. So acting as the lord's proxy couldn't have been enjoyable.

I quietly got up and moved closer to him.

"You worked hard, Brother."

Then I patted his shoulder sincerely. Werner blinked a couple of times, then burst out laughing.

"Little tyke, are you imitating Father?"

"Yeah. Father's praise is so cool. The knights even cried from it."

I still vividly remembered the time when Calips's encouragement moved a group of knights to tears.

"Hmm. That was… a bit hard to watch."

"Huh? Why? I thought it was touching…"

"…It's amazing that you find it touching to see those burly men in tears."

We chatted a little longer, then I stood up.

"Well, I should go now!"

"Already?"

"I'm heading to the library."

"Good grief… What kind of six-year-old loves books this much?"

"Books are good. Do you want to come too, Brother?"

"Nope."

For once, Werner—who usually agreed to almost anything I said—gave a flat refusal.

"I spent two months staring at documents until my eyes nearly fell out. I'm sick of letters."

"…That's fair."

I was a little disappointed, but I didn't want to push him after his hard work.

"I'll walk you to the library, though. I was heading to the training ground anyway."

"Even after just getting back today, no rest?"

"I've been sitting the whole trip, so I'm stiff. Plus, I want to test out some newly improved magic."

"Improved again?"

"Don't you know? This big brother is a genius mage. Improvement is a piece of cake!"

He puffed up proudly when I asked with wide eyes. Then he added in a small voice, "Though safety testing is still pending…"

"Ah! I should ask Brother for a spar. Hehe. Once he sees my new magic, even he won't be able to stay calm. Might as well use him as a test subject."

Watching Werner mutter somewhat sinisterly, I let out an awkward laugh.

Hmm. Would Kizef actually agree…?

---

I parted ways with Werner at the library entrance.

The library, with its three-tiered central space that gave both an open and grand feel, was my favorite spot in the mansion.

"What should I read today…"

I had been visiting the library often ever since I reached an age where learning to read wasn't odd.

At first, I'd chosen reading as a way to learn about the 500 years of history that had passed… but now it had become a full-fledged hobby.

I'd always enjoyed reading, and with such a wide variety of books, there was endless fun in discovering new things.

"Hmm. I've been reading about magical engineering lately, so maybe I should study herbology again."

After deciding on today's reading material, I strode between the bookshelves.

For a child under ten, reaching a shelf taller than Calips would normally be impossible—but for me, it was easy.

I used the wind to lift myself and drifted through the air, picking out two volumes.

Just as I was about to head to a nearby sofa—

Thump—

Something caught my foot.

"Hm?"

I looked down and saw a book lying on the floor, its beige back cover facing up.

"Did I drop it?"

I tilted my head and picked it up, intending to put it back.

But the book didn't return to its place.

The moment I turned it over to see the title, I froze.

「Memoirs」

Aside from being somewhat worn, the book seemed ordinary, as if it had simply wandered into the wrong section.

But what held my gaze was the author's name written clearly below:

「Alan Dinacel」

A name written in neat handwriting.

I raised the hand that had been hovering over the cover and carefully turned the pages.

Flip, flip—

After a few pages, faded script appeared on aged paper.

"July 1st, Imperial Year 501. I, Alan Dinacel, write this based on the diaries I have kept throughout my life. This writing is neither about spiritology nor an academic paper. It is solely a story of my life, and at the same time, an apology dedicated to the one person I have respected most in my lifetime, and the only being who stayed by my side to the end. Though it will likely reach no one."

As I read through the brief introduction, my breath grew tight.

Each word seemed to burn into my retinas.

Only after finishing that page did I let out a heavy sigh.

"It was you, Alan…"

Alan was a common name.

But Alan Dinacel—a spirit mage with that surname—was one of a kind.

A scholar who, five hundred years ago, first laid the foundations of spiritology, and a spirit mage contracted to spirits of two attributes.

Having achieved such feats, Alan Dinacel was still revered as a great figure in the present age.

But to me, Alan Dinacel was no mere historical figure.

"Lady Roel!"

"Um, Lady Roel—could I call you Master?"

"Master! Look at this!"

A lively young spirit mage who had followed me around from our very first meeting, constantly asking about spirits. Unable to ignore those sparkling eyes, I had entertained his questions a few times—and from then on, he'd called me "Master" and declared himself my disciple.

Kyle, Daina, and Jin had all taken quite a liking to Alan.

'…Of course, Isid found him terribly annoying.'

But then again, Isid was equally annoyed by everyone except me, so it wasn't limited to Alan.

Recalling those days, my lips unconsciously curved upward.

I gently stroked the paper, then returned the other books to their places.

I took only Alan's memoirs and sat down, but I didn't open it right away.

'What should I do…'

Half of me wanted to read Alan's story, and half of me didn't.

For some time now, I had been avoiding history books or stories of the past. Dwelling on what had already passed only made me feel down.

Even if I couldn't control the thoughts and memories that surfaced unbidden, I could at least avoid triggers that brought them up.

"…"

Stroke, stroke—

I gently rubbed the cover.

It was the first autobiography written by someone I knew, so I'd brought it as if drawn by a spell—but I still hadn't decided if reading it was the right thing to do.

What if I read it and sank into an unbearable melancholy again?

Being alone in sadness was fine, but I didn't want my family to see me like that and grieve.

'If only I could at least find out where Isid is…'

More than anything, what weighed on me most was the complete mystery surrounding Isid's whereabouts—still unknown after all these years.

Aside from the spirits who had been with me from my very first memory, he was my dearest friend in this world, the one I'd spent the longest time with in my entire life—the black dragon, Isid.

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