The Mirror of Resentment

“My, my.”

The voice reached him only after he had pulverized every pillar and statue in the room. Kallios stopped and turned around only after shattering the last of the mural-covered walls. A person manifested out of thin air. It was a tall woman with short-cut red hair and red eyes, smiling as if she had just seen something amusing. He threw his scabbard aside and immediately slashed at her. The blade passed straight through her.

[That temper—reaching for a sword first—is exactly like Kaian.]

He stopped his follow-up attack only because of the name she spoke.

“Where is my brother?”

The woman, the Guardian of the Ruins, didn’t answer. Instead, she snapped her fingers. Everything Kallios had destroyed began to revert to its original state. As if time were flowing backward, the debris scattered on the floor rose on its own and fused back together, the cracks vanishing. It was a marvelous sight, but Kallios did not take his eyes off her for a single moment.

“Where is my brother?” he asked again.

Red aura flickered from the blade held against her throat. Nothing in this space could harm her. However, even if it had no physical effect on her, having a menacingly burning sword held to her neck was not particularly pleasant.

She was not a generous person. Many of Kaian’s descendants, relying solely on the Dragon Blood in their veins and the Dragon’s Blessing, had acted out only to receive a punishment instead of a “gift.” If Kallios hadn’t possessed several intriguing traits that piqued her interest, the arm holding the sword to her neck would have already fallen to the floor.

[You do not dream.]

She reached out her hand.

[You are here, yet half of you is inside my dream…]

“Dream?”

The hand that passed through his sword touched Kallios’s chest. It didn’t actually make physical contact; she simply stopped her movement directly over his heart.

She smirked.

[Let us go and talk there.]

Kallios furrowed his brow in displeasure. When she made a pushing motion, his body moved regardless of his will. Kallios took a step back. He had clearly been standing on solid ground, but his feet suddenly sank. His vision went pitch black for a second, then brightened.

Two names were added to Kallios’s hit list.

Kallios Capre Rotenmeyer.

And the Guardian of the Ruins.

The Guardian, finding something incredibly amusing, laughed uproariously every time Kallios thought about how he was definitely going to kill her.

Well, while the person involved felt like he was going crazy, it was an entertaining situation from a distance.

Kallios was trapped in the body of a “Kallios” who shared nothing with him except for his parents, face, and name. He could do nothing but see, hear, and feel.

Kallios truly felt like he was losing his mind.

He could tolerate the body moving on its own to do things a ten-year-old Sierra wouldn’t even do—drinking tea like water and stuffing food into its mouth until it was bursting. Not being educated wasn’t a crime. …Honestly, he didn’t care about “Kallios’s” circumstances. It was just that everything else was so repulsive that breaking etiquette became a minor, tolerable grievance.

Damn it.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty…”

Damn it.

If Kallios could move, he would have immediately ripped the mouth that called his brother’s name. The wrist that was masturbating while calling out to Kaian… no, he would have torn those limbs to shreds and fed them to wild dogs. But Kallios could do nothing.

The thirst “Kallios” felt was felt by Kallios as well. A desire that could not be quenched by masturbation boiled desperately within. Every time “Kallios” moved his hand urgently, something—anger, pleasure, or a tangle of both—clung to Kallios. Your Majesty. “Kallios” called out to Kaian longingly.

He didn’t want to know what kind of images of Kaian the man was imagining or what he desired. However, whenever the man approached the peak, the fantasies of Kaian that he violated in his mind poured into Kallios as well. Kaian pinned under Kallios, gasping for breath. Looking at Kallios with eyes clouded by pleasure, clinging to him while shuddering at being pierced, calling out Kallios’s name…

“Mine.”

Mine.

“Kaian.”

Big brother.

[What are you so angry about?]

He hated the man who desired him without knowing his place.

It had been over ten days since Kallios was trapped in this body. He could roughly grasp the situation through the words he heard. The man had lived in this castle all his life, and after meeting him just once, they had spent the night… together…

How dare someone like you.

While Kallios was submerged in intense emotion, “Kallios” put on his armor and picked up his sword. He brushed off the insults of the knights. He stood at the very front and cut off the heads of orcs. After the fierce battles ended, he occasionally stood in place and looked at the distant sky.

Kallios knew that “Kallios” was thinking of Kaian.

He wanted to kill him.

Without knowing your place, how dare you.

Who are you?

When he first heard that question asked in a raspy voice, he didn’t know it would turn out like this.

The reason he had visited consistently for sickbed visits after that was because the late Emperor had suggested it.

Kallios was a looter who had stolen what Kaian should have possessed. It didn’t matter that Kallios had never wished for it or that Kaian didn’t feel he had been robbed. People saw what they wanted to see and judged based on what they saw.

If he showed that he regarded Kaian as an older brother and respected him, the situation would not get worse. The late Emperor said so, and Kallios thought the same. Well, it didn’t matter even if it got worse. There were three children born with the Dragon’s Blessing in this generation: one was dying, and one was a girl. One of the new children to be born might have the Dragon’s Blessing… but the late Emperor said he didn’t want to wait until a new child grew up. So, in the end, only Kallios would become Emperor.

Anyway, it was a sickbed visit with a purpose, but it wasn’t bad. Kaian was not the type of person to be bothersome. When Kallios sat by the bed and read a book, Kaian would either watch him quietly before falling asleep or open a book of his own. The occasional stories he shared were light things that required no thought, and even if Kallios didn’t respond, he didn’t say much.

That room in the spire, where the sunlight hit best, was neither old nor changing; it always looked the same. Kaian was the same. Kaian was always sick (partly because Kallios only visited for sickbed calls). Sometimes he suffered because of the Dragon Blood, sometimes because he had been in the cold wind too long, and very rarely, he suffered from growing pains as his weak body struggled to grow. Yet, always… whenever he met eyes with Kallios, he smiled.

He smiled.

Kallios… didn’t hate that.

So he wanted to let him live that way forever.

Hurting a lot, sleeping long, and smiling during the brief moments he was awake.

A life that didn’t seem particularly comfortable.

Do you wish to be at peace?

In truth, he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t know how deep or great the pain he suffered was, but he knew that the gaunt body had already reached its limit. Even breathing must be painful.

So, he might want to be at peace now.

He felt an impulse to cover his ears. If Kaian said he wanted to be at peace, he…

He didn’t want to. He hated it. He didn’t want to send him away. He had to stay by his side a little longer. He had to want to be by Kallios’s side. Because Kallios wanted him to.

“No.”

“I don’t want to die yet, Kallios.”

He answered.

Kallios dropped the sword he was holding. Perhaps he had exhausted his strength with those words, for Kaian did not open his eyes even at the loud noise. Kallios carefully placed his hand under his nose. He felt a breath. He cupped the cheek with his hand. It was hot. It must be painful. Yet, he was alive.

He used the sword intended to end his breath to slash open his own chest. As he split the Dragon Bloodstone containing the Dragon’s Blessing in half, he felt a horrific pain. However, it would not be as much as what Kaian had suffered all his life. Was it thanks to the training he had undergone, or was it because of his desperate wish that he didn’t lose consciousness despite the pain and bleeding? Either way was fine. Kaian said he didn’t want to die. If so, he would save him.

He walked through the long passage, crushing and mixing the two Dragon Bloodstones with his grip strength. He roughly pressed down on the bleeding wound to stop the hemorrhage.

Do you wish to be at peace?

Kallios didn’t understand why he bothered to ask. No matter what answer he gave, there was only one thing Kallios would do.

Nevertheless, as if to respect his opinion, Kallios asked the question several times, even though the answer was already decided.

[You are angry again.]

Kallios wanted to cover his ears and close his eyes.

But “Kallios” was staring at Kaian obsessively, as if even looking away for a second would be a waste.

“Emperor Kaian” had skin moderately tanned by the sun and a body disciplined by swordsmanship. Perhaps because of that, even though the features were nearly identical, he looked like a different person.

His expression, hardened as if he were angry, was quite imperial. He thought that if he had been healthy, he might have become a good Emperor.

The late Emperor was not a good Emperor, and he himself was the same. It was only natural, as neither of them loved their country. But Kaian had loved the world even while living in that narrow room. And now… it seemed he had even come to like this world.

He hated it.

The place where he lived should have been the sunniest room in the spire. The place he liked should also be limited to that room and the scenery viewed from it.

“Kallios” knelt before him. He dared to kiss the top of his foot. He kissed his hand and… damn it. The situation where he could do nothing was horrific. Why was this kind of world still being maintained?

The sensation touching the hands and lips was damnably vivid. His hands were moderately firm. Calluses were formed where he held a sword. “Kallios” traced the inside of his wrist with his index finger. The pulse was clear. It was different from the brother’s, which had beaten faintly.

However, the way he blinked while slumped in his arms and the way he looked up to check the person holding him was Kallios’s Kaian. “Kallios” continued to watch as he closed his eyes, leaning his head against his chest.

Now, he couldn’t even tell if this rage came from “Kallios,” who dared to touch his lips and body, or from Kaian, who was sleeping while leaning on “Kallios.” This was only the second time Kaian and “Kallios” had met. Yet how could he be like this… without even knowing what kind of things the man thought about and did every night.

The Guardian laughed out loud with delight. Kallios gritted his teeth.

…

He stopped walking.

He slowly inhaled and exhaled.

He didn’t want to lay Kaian on the bed “Kallios” used. However, that room, which was vulgar beyond belief, was at least the best room in this shoddy castle. Kallios carefully laid Kaian on the bed after checking several times to see if the blankets had been changed.

It was then that “Kallios’s” memories poured in.

The sight of Kaian as soon as the door to the audience chamber opened was vivid. This was because “Kallios” had been deeply impressed by the situation.

Even now, wearing shabby clothes, he was good to look at, but he had been beautiful in formal attire. What especially caught “Kallios’s” gaze were those kind eyes. “Kallios” thought Kaian was like a messenger of God. If there were a God, his life wouldn’t have been so miserable. No, since there is a God, he sent him to wash away his hard life with tears. Kallios pressed his throbbing head.