I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 63: Be Careful of Who You Befriend (3)

Anis couldn’t help but cringe every time he thought of his battle with Keter. The outcome was inevitable as Keter came to him when he was in his worst condition and fought close-range, the weakness of archers. Anis didn’t think he lost because Keter was stronger than him; he believed it was because he was in such bad shape at the time.

So the next time, Anis went to Keter after recovering. Plus, he had also grown in terms of skill and technique. However, he fell to the ground from an arrow Keter threw. Anis blocked it, but the arrow still made him fall. He thought the arrow had missed him, but it hit a rock instead, which ended up hitting his knee.

I let my guard down.

The first time, Anis lost because he was in bad shape, and the second loss was because he let his guard down.

This was their third battle. This time, Anis was in good shape, and he wasn’t going to let his guard down. He was determined not to make a fourth battle.

However, Keter looked quite annoyed.

“I’m a bit busy right now; let’s do this later.” fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

“Don’t be ridiculous! What on earth could keep someone as troublesome as you busy?” Anis shouted.

“Troublesome? That’s a little unfair. Was bringing in the knights of the Bydent family troublesome?”

“Well, I’ll give you that—it was well done, but that was outside. In the family, all you’ve done is cause trouble! And you were the one who asked me to come find you. Are you really backing out now?”

“Tsk, if you insist that much, I guess I have no choice. Fine, let’s do this.”

“Follow me. Let’s settle this in the training ground.”

Anis took the lead immediately, checking frequently to make sure Keter was keeping up. As they walked, Keter began chatting.

“Are you preparing for the Sword of the South Tournament?”

“I don’t know how you found that out, but stay out of it. And! I heard you’re eighteen. Do I look younger than you?”

“You want me to treat you as an older brother, is that it?”

“I don’t want you to do that because I don’t see you as my younger brother. So show me some respect, or I won’t respect you either.”

“There are a few people I do treat as my older brother, but I don’t think you can become one of them.”

“You’ll be calling me respectfully soon, once you lose this duel.”

As the two bickered on their way, a voice called out from behind.

“Anis! Where are you going? And who’s that with you?”

It was Myle. Anis turned naturally at the sound of Myle’s voice. The moment he turned, Keter took his chance and struck his forehead with a swift punch.

Smack!

Anis’ legs flew into the air, and he spun halfway before landing flat on his back, unconscious.

“...”

“...”

The passing servants, the guards in the hallway, and even Myle, who had called out to Anis—all of them were now staring at Keter.

Keter looked down at Anis and said, “Don’t ever let your guard down in front of me.”

Keter then turned to leave, leaving Anis lying there, unconscious. But Myle stopped him.

“Hold on, are you Keter? I’m Myle, Myle El Sefira. The second eldest son of this family, and your second eldest brother.”

“You introduced yourself, so I’ll hear you out.”

“As arrogant as they say, I see.”

“But not more handsome than they say?”

Myle checked on Anis first. There was a large bump on the back of his head from falling backward. Though it was unintentional, he felt slightly guilty since it had happened because of him.

“He just fainted. Take him to the infirmary.”

The soldiers carried Anis away, and Myle looked at Keter intently. It wasn’t just to observe, but for another reason. Myle had secretly been studying sorcery. He had discovered a book of spells hidden in the Sefira family library by chance.

Initially, he had no intention of learning sorcery. But as Sefira continued to face adversities, Myle grew increasingly frustrated by his own inability to contribute anything. His charisma fell short of Hissop, his older brother, and his archery skills were nowhere near Anis’, his younger brother.

As Taragon, their youngest brother, was still immature, it felt to Myle as if it was his duty to make up for his siblings’ shortcomings. Yet, despite how much he tried, he still felt he was of little real help to his family. After much thought, he finally decided to learn sorcery.

Known as primal magic, sorcery differed from conventional magic, which drew on stored mana within the body. Sorcery consumed mental energy, so even without mana, one could use sorcery with the right understanding and mental fortitude. While sorcery’s effects were not as straightforward as magic, it allowed for unique abilities that magic could not replicate.

The first sorcery Myle had learned was the Eye of Black and White, a spell that let him see a balance of the subject’s maleficence and beneficence as colors. When using this, evil deeds appeared black, while good deeds appeared white.

For most people, the ratio was around sixty percent black and forty percent white. Using the Eye of Black and White, Myle monitored the Sefira family’s vassals, picking out those who required closer observation. He did not trust or rely upon those with a high proportion of black. No perfectly good person existed—not even his father, Besil, nor himself. On the other hand, notorious criminals and famous swindlers often showed over ninety percent black.

So then...

What about Keter?

Myle used his Eye of Black and White to gaze into Keter’s inner nature.

“Ugh!?”

The moment he looked, a burning pain seared his eyes, forcing him to close them. He had never experienced anything like this before. Sorcery was almost never affected by the subject’s strength, which was its major advantage. If the target was much stronger, it might require greater concentration and have a higher risk of being exposed, but he had never felt such direct pain before.

But the true issue wasn’t the pain. There was no sign of Keter’s good or evil at all.

Why can’t I see anything?

There was no black or white. Keter existed as if untouched by either good or evil, like a newborn child.

Is that even possible?

Myle had never seen such a being.

Meanwhile, Keter was growing annoyed. As Myle stared silently, Keter was tempted to poke him in the eye. At that moment, a strange sensation crept over him, one he recognized.

Feels like I’m being targeted by sorcery.

Having fought sorcerers before in Liqueur, Keter felt like Myle had cast sorcery on him. He didn’t know where Myle learned it from, but he was certain. It was likely a detection spell rather than an attack or curse, but it was still incredibly rude to use sorcery when they had just met.

Infuriated, Keter severed the thread of sorcery that connected Myle’s eyes to him. The pain Myle felt in his eyes was due to Keter’s disruption of his Eye of Black and White.

“You just used sorcery on me, didn’t you?”

Myle’s heart sank.

Most people didn’t even know sorcery existed. Even many mages were unaware of it. Yet Keter not only recognized sorcery but detected it immediately. The pain in his eyes suggested it might even have backfired.

“...I apologize. I meant no harm. I only wanted to see if you were good or evil.”

“Why should I care about your intent? I’m the one who’s uncomfortable here.”

Myle hesitated. Keter had not hesitated to use violence since coming to Sefira, and he doubted Keter would make an exception for him. More than anything, he knew he was the one at fault here.

“Do as you wish. I was the one who acted rudely first, so I won’t ask for forgiveness.”

Even if others were watching, Myle knew there was nothing he could do. A misdeed went unpunished if it remained undiscovered, but if caught, one had to face the consequences: that was Myle’s philosophy.

Thud.

Keter took Myle’s right hand, the one that was covering his eyes.

“Move it.”

“...”

Myle quietly lowered his hand. Bright red blood trickled down his cheek. Keter placed his palm over Myle’s eye, channeling mana into it.

Just a burst blood vessel, then.

Keter used his mana to inspect the damaged area, then shaped the mana into fine threads to stitch the burst vessel together. This was the Franken Mana Suture, the technique Keter used while treating Bydent’s knights.

“There. Open your eyes.”

Myle was astonished. The bleeding had stopped, and his vision instantly returned.

“What did you do?”

“I simply reconnected the broken blood vessel. It’s a reward for owning up to your mistake. But there won’t be any mercy next time.”

With that, Keter continued on his way. Myle couldn’t stop him, nor did he have the capacity to. What Keter had done so casually was something only the finest doctors could do. In fact, treating an injury like this on the spot would be nearly impossible even for the best doctors.

“Keter, are you even... human?”

Myle felt foolish for having tried to disregard Keter’s presence. Though they had only met briefly, it was enough to see that Keter was someone he could never ignore.

“I can see why Taragon and Anis changed after meeting him.”

Myle chose a different path from them. He knew he shouldn’t seek Keter out; he understood and accepted the fact that he needed to make Keter come to him to at least have a reasonable conversation.

“But I can’t just let myself be dragged along either.”

Myle immediately headed toward the patriarch’s office. He intended to openly declare his desire to study sorcery. Though he had found the sorcery book in the library six months ago, he had only managed to learn two spells by practicing in secret, since learning any art outside archery was considered heretical in Sefira. He feared that if the patriarch discovered his secret, he would be forced to give up on sorcery entirely—or worse, that the book would be destroyed.

But seeing Keter changed his mind. Even Keter, Sefira’s bastard child, was being of so much help to the family; as the second eldest son, he couldn’t just passively sit by. Even if the patriarch objected, Myle was determined to persuade him. He wouldn’t be able to help Sefira by learning it in secret; he was going to learn it formally and use it properly.

And I am older than him, too. Keter, I will be addressed respectfully by you.

Though Keter didn’t intend for it, he changed Myle’s future as well, just in the span of five minutes.

* * *

Luke realized early on that he was different from others; even his appearance was different from the people of the Lillian Kingdom. He had asked his father, Jacques, countless questions: where his mother was, and why he looked so unlike everyone else. Each time, Jacques would simply tell him he was different because he was special.

After his coming-of-age ceremony at nineteen, Luke decided not to care about his origins anymore. Sefira was his home, and Jacques was his father—that was enough for him.

But now, curiosity crept back.

“What exactly am I?”

He had awakened an ability to sense misfortune and to reflect others’ attacks. No matter how he looked at it, his origins seemed far from ordinary. He began wondering why his parents had abandoned him. Was there a reason? Should he uncover the truth about his origin or leave it alone? His ability to sense misfortune even told him the answer to this; it was telling him to not search and just live as he was.

“Then, I’ll search.”

The moment he said this, his body resisted violently. Like before, his curse was pressuring him to stop. Luke remembered what Keter said about the first time being the hardest, and he was right. Once Luke resisted the urge to follow misfortune’s warning, defying it a second time was much easier.

“I’ll live however I want.”

Shaking off his thoughts, Luke stood up. To live as he pleased, he would likely have to leave Sefira. Jacques would certainly be sad, but he was still going to do it—it was his choice.

Bang, bang, bang!

Someone pounded on the door of his training room. The curse told him not to open it.

“Son, it’s me.”

Though it was Jacques’ voice, Luke knew it wasn’t him. He opened the door and found Keter standing there, as he had expected.

“Oh, that’s no fun. I thought you would rush into my arms, crying, ‘Father!’”

“What do you want? It doesn’t look like you came out of concern for me.”

“See, this is why people need power. Looks like someone’s grown a backbone.”

“I know it’s thanks to you. So, I’ll hear you out. What do you want?”

“That’s for later. Right now, you need to come with me.”

“Where?”

“My hometown, Liqueur.”

Keter briefly explained his situation. He was going to participate in the Sword of the South Tournament but couldn’t enter under Sefira’s name. As such, he had to compete independently. However, there were three conditions to participate. He had already met the first and was going to get the remaining two, and he wanted Luke to come along.

“Do I really need to go with you?” Luke asked.

“A partner... talking back?!”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m saying you know everything, so you don’t need anyone else.”

“Oh, I see. You think I’m amazing, so I should do everything all by myself?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Right, got it. You said we were friends, but now you’re saying I should just handle things on my own, huh?”

“We... are friends?”

“And now you’re pretending you forgot... People say you should be careful of who you befriend. It’s so true.”

“No, no, that’s not it! Fine, fine. I’ll go with you. I just didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Sweet! I’ve got myself a porter.”

“Do you ever hide what you’re really thinking?”

Keter ignored Luke and began walking ahead. Anyone else would have asked where they were going, but Luke knew Keter planned to leave right away.

“Wait. Unlike you, I need to report before leaving; otherwise, it’ll be desertion,” Luke said.

“Then come to my room after reporting.”

“Huh? Oh... okay.”

Luke was a little taken aback. Knowing Keter, Luke expected him to make him get a carriage while he waited by the gate, but he didn’t act that way. Luke headed toward the holy knights’ headquarters, thinking about how he would explain his absence to the lieutenant commander.

If I tell the lieutenant commander that I’ll be out for a bit, but I’m not sure when I’ll return, will he even approve that? Oh, well, I still have to try.

To his surprise, the lieutenant commander granted him an extended leave without any trouble. This was because Keter had informed Besil of his plans, and Besil had requested that the commander give Luke permission. The finance office even gave him fifty gold as a special allowance.

Fifty gold is a fortune, but it feels small because of Keter.

With his permit and plenty of funds, Luke cheerfully arrived at Keter’s quarters. As he was about to enter, he sensed an unusual atmosphere inside and realized that someone other than Keter or his father had come to visit.

“Keter. This isn’t a request—it’s an order. If you don’t come with me, you’ll regret it.”

Someone was barking orders at Keter. Luke instantly recognized the voice. It was Gant, commander of the Fourth Division of the Order of the Galaxy and a loyal subordinate of Reganon.