Somehow, I could hear the sound of a fuse burning. I hurried to pour cold water on her before her eyes completely rolled back. "Ahh! Does Brother Heero want to play hide and seek again?"
Nero looked confused. "What?"
"However, the way you phrased it sounded a bit misleading. If anyone from outside heard you, they would misunderstand. Hahaha! "
Nero looked at me like I had lost my mind the moment I burst out laughing. She didn't understand my feelings.
I glanced at the puzzled Verita. "Come to think of it... Razbet."
Verita nodded. "Yes?"
"I suddenly have a crazy craving for sweets. Is there a bakery in this city?" I asked.
"There is probably a branch of De Marlin Refreshments," she replied.
"It is just right. Then please get me some cookies from there," I instructed her.
"Yes!" Verita replied vigorously before running past Nero down the hallway.
I sighed as I watched Verita disappear quickly.
Nero saw all of this and suddenly asked, "How did you do it?"
"What?"
"How did you tame her?"
"Tame her?" I echoed. This wasn't something one should say about a person.
I laughed, and Nero responded with a snort. "The Crimson Mace."
"What about her?"
"She's the strongest inquisitor, the secret weapon of the Seventy-Two Churches. Mad Dog, Psycho Nun, Mismatched Eyes Killer—all of these nicknames refer to that woman, and that list is only a fraction of them. If I were to gather every nickname given to her by the heroes who have gone on missions with her, there would probably be dozens," Nero said.
The nicknames sounded cruel. They didn't resemble anything anyone would give a nun, even one who served as an inquisitor. That meant Verita had never bothered to hide her true nature while acting as Razbet.
In contrast to her appearance, she had a radical personality and a violent streak. I had often wondered how she managed to hide her identity so thoroughly, yet I hadn't expected this to be the answer. In the end, her strange personality had simply been overlooked due to her skills and accomplishments.
"Why is someone so famous only taking the promotion trial now?" I asked.
"I am curious as well," Nero replied. "Sister Razbeth's abilities were already A-class when she joined the Hero Society. Even so, she chose to remain C-class the entire time. Seeing her with you now, it looks like she is taking the third test. I think she has finally changed her mind."
Talking about Verita made me uneasy, so I changed the subject without hesitation. "By the way, what did you mean earlier? Why does Heero want to kill me?"
I had no major conflicts with Heero. I had never beaten him the way I had Hector and Raizen, and we had never shared any meaningful conversations. In the first place, we barely interacted at all. There had been no opportunity for a grudge to develop, which made the sudden death notice feel odd.
Nero crossed her arms and answered, "Because you have become the greatest obstacle to Heero's goal."
"Obstacle?" I repeated.
"Father said it himself. He is considering recruiting you into Black Rose," Nero answered.
"Ah, you are talking about the clan."
Previously, when the Sky-Destroying Sword had invited me to his clan, the Iron-Blooded Lord beside him had mentioned Black Rose. At that time, I had assumed he had just brought it up to save face and give me a way to reject the Sky-Destroying Sword's offer without offending him. Now, it was clear that assumption was wrong.
"It can't be," I said. "That's why he wants to kill me?"
I knew the family was chaotic but wasn't this too much? The Iron-Blooded Lord's children obsessed over achievements and constantly kept one another in check, but none of them actually resorted to murder.
"That is reason enough. Do you know nothing about Black Rose?" she asked.
I nodded. "Nothing at all."
"That's ridiculous." Nero sighed before continuing, "Black Rose is the only one-man clan in the Hero Society."
"What is a one-man clan?"
"It has only one member." Her voice carried a note of exasperation.
"How impressive," I commented flatly.
"It goes far beyond that. Every clan has a rank, and higher ranks come with stricter requirements. Membership numbers follow the same rule. Usually, an A-class clan needs to have more than 100 members. Meanwhile, Black Rose is A-class despite having only one," she explained.
"How is that possible?"
At that, flames appeared in Nero's sunken eyes, a fire born of envy.
"Does there need to be a reason? That one member is the great Iron-Blooded Lord, Delac C. Badniker." Pride colored her voice.
Even without knowing anything else, I could tell that Nero truly respected and followed the Iron-Blooded Lord. Her devotion was probably as strong as Hector's.
She continued, "On average, an A-class clan completes about twelve or thirteen missions of the same rank per year. Father not only meets that quota annually, but he sometimes even takes on S-class missions alone."
I admired the Iron-Blooded Lord in a different way. I could probably see why he stayed at the main house for fewer than ten days a year.
The Iron-Blooded Lord handled missions that normally required hundreds of heroes. As a Middle Name, he also had to obey the imperial family's orders on a regular basis. On top of that, the responsibilities of managing and overseeing the family fell on his shoulders, which was unavoidable for a house as large as the Badnikers.
From the previous conversation, it also seemed that he maintained several undercover identities. When his personal obligations were added to his official duties, it became clear that the Iron-Blooded Lord lived a life so demanding that even three clones wouldn't be enough.
A sudden curiosity stirred within me. What drives the Iron-Blooded Lord to live like this? Hope? Despair? Or a sense of mission?
The Iron-Blooded Lord, Delac C. Badniker, my father... Father... That word felt awkward. I had called him Father a few times at the main house, but always with a purpose. I didn't really regard the Iron-Blooded Lord as my father. I couldn't.
Now that I think about it, in both my previous life and this one, I never considered him my father. To me, Delac was just the Iron-Blooded Lord and the head of the family. I felt no dissatisfaction with this sense of distance. Not at all. Still, I couldn't stop my recent curiosity about the Iron-Blooded Lord.
Nero added, "Everyone said that if the time ever came to add someone new to Black Rose, the first choice would definitely be Heero."
This was true. Heero was the Iron-Blooded Lord's most favored child. In my previous life, the loser Luan didn't even dare to raise his head before him, a monster who stood an entire tier above even Hector and Nero, both of whom were hailed as geniuses. In a few years, he would likely roam the continent at the Iron-Blooded Lord's side, resolving conflicts across different regions. Naturally, it was a foregone conclusion that joining Black Rose was Heero's rightful place.
Did he snap simply because his position was threatened? Has he truly lost his sense of reason to the point of trying to kill me? Honestly, it's difficult to imagine. The Heero I remembered rarely showed emotional turbulence in a way that was different from the Iron-Blooded Lord. He always appeared drowsy, detached, and bored with everything.
Nero said, "Of course, this isn't the only reason."
"There's more?"
"Yes." Nero turned her gaze to me. "Father said that you are the future family head."
Superb... I groaned inwardly.
***
"What?" Heero asked again. The word came out more sharply than he intended. He rarely spoke so rudely, but what he had just heard was far beyond his expectations.
Fortunately, the Iron-Blooded Lord's reaction was the same as usual. He showed no anger. He didn't even seem to notice. He kept mechanically moving his pen as he repeated in his usual emotionless tone, "The future family head is Luan Badniker."
The relaxed look in Heero's eyes vanished. This was an emotional side of him that appeared only on rare occasions, even in front of the Iron-Blooded Lord.
The Iron-Blooded Lord didn't meet his gaze. His dark purple eyes moved steadily over the family documents and the list of missions that the Hero Society had sent him.
"Why?"
At that, the Iron-Blooded Lord finally looked at Heero. "Why? That is a strange question, Heero. I didn't expect it from you of all people."
Heero was stunned.
"During last year's meal, I summoned Luan and removed Hector from the table," the Iron-Blooded Lord noted.
Heero remembered it vividly. That was a special space that only Assad's magic ring could access. The meal there served as both a punishment and reward. It was a privilege granted solely to the three children that the Iron-Blooded Lord favored most.
The Iron-Blooded Lord continued, "Hector couldn't accept it and came to see me. What was it that you said to him at that time?"
Heero remembered that as well.
" You don't deserve it."
Heero pressed his lips together.
The Iron-Blooded Lord went on, "Luan possesses exceptional skill and remarkable achievements. I received the reports, evaluated him, and rewarded him accordingly, just as I always have. So let me say this once more. I appointed him as the deputy head because his results far surpass those of my other children."
"Preventing the demon king's descent was definitely a great achievement," Heero said, his voice tight. "But I know that Luan didn't accomplish it alone. Hector, the other hero disciples, the members of the Special Forces under Barter Goodspring, and, above all, Dean Alderson were all crucial to that success."
"Yes. Yet every one of them said the same thing. It was Luan who played the decisive role. Even that Goodspring descendant you just mentioned said so," the Iron-Blooded Lord shot back.
"Barter."
"You still don't understand, so let me tell you one more thing," the Iron-Blooded Lord said. "This will be announced soon. Luan single-handedly killed a priest."
Heero's eyes widened. For someone who rarely showed emotion, this reaction was tantamount to exclaiming. The word How rose to his lips, but he barely managed to force it back down.
This was none other than the Iron-Blooded Lord. He had to have already verified its authenticity, which made the situation even harder to comprehend.
Heero was an A-class hero and a Badniker, so he understood the implications well. The life of a priest carried far more value than several Dark Church bases or even thousands of its followers. After all, a priest could establish communication with a demon king, which alone made them extraordinarily dangerous.
Beyond that, a priest's very existence embodied immense power. In addition, their Ghost Road technique allowed them to escape at critical moments. Many heroes were stronger than priests, but among those heroes, the ones who had actually killed a priest could be counted on one hand.
Did that fellow really take down a priest?
Heero thought of Luan. In truth, until he heard the rumor that Luan would join Black Rose, Heero had completely forgotten about that platinum-blond boy. Despite witnessing Luan take Hector's position, he had never felt compelled to treat him as a rival. He had never encountered anyone threatening enough to warrant that kind of caution.
The same applied to Barter, whom he had competed against once in the past. The match had ended in a tie, but only because of the age gap between them. Heero was confident that he could overwhelmingly win if they fought now.
He rarely spent time dwelling on others' excellence. To him, these were just obvious facts. Occasionally, Nero would display surprising abilities, but he never regarded her as a real rival. He never imagined that the one to overtake him would be his youngest brother, an existence he had long since forgotten.
"Do you have any more questions?" The Iron-Blooded Lord asked.
Perhaps this was the final question that Heero was allowed to ask. By then, Heero had regained his composure. His heart thumped slightly. His doubt soon faded and gave way to curiosity. When that curiosity met his innate confidence, it produced a sensation that he had never experienced before.
"There is just one more thing I would like to ask."
"Speak."
"If I kill Luan, does that mean that I can join Black Rose and that the deputy head's position will be mine?" A fierce fighting spirit surfaced in the monstrous Heero. The transformation was a sharp contrast to his usual casual demeanor.
The Iron-Blooded Lord wasn't surprised by the change in his oldest son. He just shook his head and offered a warning. "You still haven't let go of your arrogance."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't just be prepared to kill. Fight as if you are prepared to die. Otherwise, you will be the one who dies," the Iron-Blooded Lord warned.