Chapter 23 - The Emotional Scars of the Survivor
Enjoy one more chapter for the New Year 😺
I stepped out of Father’s study and returned to my room for the time being.
In my hand, I held the garment bag that I had received from him (TL/N: Minister of War's son.). If I were to meet Eldest Brother, this would undoubtedly be the most important piece of equipment. That’s right—he (TL/N: Minister of War's son.) had prepared this outfit for me to fight. The logistics were in place. Thus, my role was to shift this stagnant situation forward.
The room was as impeccably clean as it had been four years ago. This must have been thanks to the high professional standards of the maid assigned to it. Everything was in its proper place, just as I remembered it. In the spots etched in my memory, the items that should have been there were neatly arranged. Even so, there were larger items now, anticipating four years of growth.
I see... As expected of the retainers of a knightly household. I felt deeply grateful.
I headed to the small attached bathroom to cleanse myself. Having just finished a long journey, I was drenched in sweat. It would have been far too improper to wear that outfit in such a state. Therefore, cleansing myself was only natural. I quickly washed my body, dried off with the provided towel, and put on the new undergarments that were stored in the usual spot I remembered.
I opened the garment bag, took out the formal attire inside, and donned it.
Smoothing down my hair, I composed myself to look like a proper noble’s son and headed to Eldest Brother’s room. It wasn’t far. Standing before the door, I knocked and requested entry. There was no response from within. I had anticipated as much—Eldest Brother must have been feeling more despondent than ever before.
I grabbed the doorknob. It didn’t turn... The lock was firmly secured from the inside. It was evident that not even Father, nor any family member, could reach him. I see—he had shut himself away.
I recalled a magazine article I read in my previous life. It had reported on the challenges soldiers faced after being deployed overseas by a great nation. It described the mental illness that afflicted soldiers who had returned after surviving brutal combat and completing their tours. After enduring prolonged exposure to life-threatening situations, their minds became fatigued. Even when they returned to peaceful surroundings, they would hallucinate the presence of enemy soldiers who shouldn’t be there. Constantly feeling life-threatening danger, they would fall into panic, overcome by fear. Medically, it was termed combat fatigue.
Even though they had returned to a peaceful homeland, their hearts remained stranded in the middle of the battlefield.
This, precisely, was the affliction that Eldest Brother was suffering from—a sickness of the mind.
In this world, such symptoms were even more pronounced. This was because, in terms of harshness, the frontier was far crueler to people than any battlefield crafted by man. Here, one faced monsters and magical beasts with overwhelming strength in their raw form. Furthermore, the armor they wore provided little reassurance, and their primary weapons were swords and simple spears. One could only describe this as even more grueling than what the soldiers of my previous world endured.
When I thought about my brother’s emotional state and the situation of his mind, it wasn’t surprising that he had retreated into his shell. However, Eldest Brother was also the heir to our knightly family. I wanted to believe that his spirit wasn’t entirely broken. I had witnessed his training up close. His perseverance was akin to an unyielding blade forged from magic ore.
That is why I believed in him.
Eldest Brother’s mind was merely worn down from the excessive tension. If he were to overcome this, the time was now. I believed it could only be now. The knightly household could not afford to pause. Thus, I needed my brother to return. Hardening my heart, I had no choice but to smash through this situation and break it apart.
--- No, I didn’t mean to break it down physically.
I gathered the internal mana within me, concentrating it in my hand. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I manipulated the lock directly. Or rather, I reshaped the lock itself. This ability to channel magic into objects and alter their form was my own unique magic, something I had honed while studying mana manipulation at the Alchemy Tower. Now that I thought about it, back at the royal capital’s Magic Academy, I had often been asked to unlock jewel boxes with broken locks...
The lock to Eldest Brother’s room was rendered useless, and the door opened silently. A sharp, acrid smell struck my nostrils, mingled with a faintly indecent scent that was difficult to describe. The room resembled a forest after a storm—documents and clothes were scattered haphazardly. The sunlight that peeked through the gaps in the heavy blackout curtains illuminated the dust swirling in the air, making it seem like a swarm of tiny flying insects.
The sight of the room’s disarray filled me with an aching sense of helplessness. But giving in to despair now would do nothing to rescue Eldest Brother from the depths of his. I calmed my heart and took a deep breath.
I glanced around the room, searching for my brother. He wasn’t at his desk or in the sitting area. A faint presence suggested he was in the bedroom.
Resolving myself, I stepped forward without hesitation and walked toward that direction. A heavy door stood before me, securely locked once again. It was clear he was determined not to let anyone see him. I had heard that after being carried back unconscious and healed by the priest of the cathedral, his physical wounds had completely healed.
Though his dominant arm would never fully recover, making daily life challenging, I had been told he had regained functionality. So why had things come to this? The answer, I realized, lay in a state I once experienced myself. He had plunged into despair, unable to see even a flicker of light in the darkness. Everything must have seemed utterly meaningless to him. Like a bubble adrift on a vast ocean, he likely had no will to act, letting himself be carried wherever the tide took him.
The shock my brother endured was simply too great. His heart couldn’t bear the weight.
I understood this because I had been there before. That was why I was here now. I knew exactly what needed to be done.
Eldest Brother had always been a man of tireless effort. He swore to protect our lands, placing the happiness of the people above all else. He was a man of compassion, endlessly giving care to those he deemed worth protecting. Even as a child, I had admired his selflessness—his unwavering dedication to others, even at the cost of himself.
And that was why I couldn’t forgive those who had pushed my brother into this state.
To the one who broke the warrior of compassion, I could never extend forgiveness. My heart burned with anger, utterly consumed by it. But before anything else, I had to prioritize my brother's will. I had to ensure he didn’t feel alienated. Everyone wanted him to regain his pride.
No, that wasn’t it. Everyone was praying for it.
I earnestly wished for Eldest Brother to return to being the Benevolent Knight...the embodiment of the knightly family's goodwill. Resolving myself, I reached out and grasped the doorknob of the door leading to the bedroom."
---
Mana control easily rendered the intricate lock ineffective. Put simply, I crushed the lock. The well-maintained door opened without a sound.
--- The scent that assailed my nose was a potent mix of sourness and a strangely sensual aroma.
This was where my broken-hearted eldest brother had retreated to... Of course. I had heard of such places even in the royal capital. When soldiers, their minds fractured by the unrelenting horrors of war, sought refuge, they always gravitated toward such sanctuaries.
The records of countless battlefields told the same story—harsh realities that followed the cessation of combat.
In both allied and enemy territories, it was always the common folk who suffered and wept in the aftermath of brutal conflicts. And those who had no power to protect themselves—especially women and children... and even more so, young women.
The kingdom, whether victorious or defeated, had long emphasized the importance of addressing the plight of the common people. In defeat, the first priority was evacuating women and children from the warzone. In victory, the kingdom rigorously enforced martial law, severely punishing any acts of looting or rape that occurred in the warzone. Protecting the people and maintaining order in those lands had always been deemed the highest principle.
--- Yet, there was an unspoken truth. ---
...The kingdom’s military command had long authorized the operations of brothel guilds near warzones.
This was recognized as a means to soothe the minds of the soldiers—perhaps the only means available. "Destructive impulses can be released on the battlefield, but carnal desires must not be indulged there." This principle was deemed crucial for post-war governance and remained prominently stated in the manuals for "military logistics" and "commanders." What lay before me now was the epitome of this practice. Eldest Brother, his mind on the verge of collapse, had sought solace in...
--- In the embrace of a woman... huh.
And she, too, had accepted him. Without her acceptance, the serene scene atop the bed would not have been possible. Hm. ...Perhaps this, too, was for the best.
I silently gave thanks that my sensibilities, inherited from a past life as an old soul, allowed me to process this scene with composure. Were I to view it through the lens of a sixteen-year-old’s perspective, I might have reacted with outright rejection.
If such calm moments as those on the bed didn’t exist, a person’s mind could shatter with terrifying ease. Once broken, they might lose all feeling, resign themselves to idle existence, or descend into the darkness of the human psyche, committing heinous acts. Any semblance of virtue they once possessed would be as fleeting as dust before the wind, leaving them as something inhuman.
If it meant avoiding that fate, even temporarily... Even if they sought refuge in indulgence and oblivion... secluding themselves within their own shell, it would be far less harmful to those around them—in a physical sense, of course.
When my impromptu intrusion reached the bedroom, Eldest Brother was in a state of semi-consciousness.
On the bed, he was held in the arms of a black-haired woman, gazing at me with clouded eyes, his expression vacant. He was unable to process the situation quickly, something the brother I once knew would never have allowed. The black-haired woman lying beside him, cradling him, was momentarily struck dumb by my sudden appearance in the bedroom.
Time seemed to freeze, the space solidified. My brother's gaze met mine, and recognition dawned in his eyes. His gaze as he stared at my face…
--- For a moment, I thought I saw a faint light flicker in those clouded eyes.
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