I wanted to become something special.
I wanted to believe there was something only I could do.
The Kingdom of Yustia, a preeminent nation among its neighbors, made powerful by its exceptional magical abilities.
He was born as its first prince — the one with the strongest claim to the throne.
Hearing just that, one would think he was more than sufficiently "special" from birth alone.
Ermes himself had thought so too. …At least, until he was old enough to think clearly.
"Yes, you're wonderful, Lord Ermes. Even compared to past generations of the royal family, you are sufficiently excellent, but…"
"There's nothing wrong at all. If he continues to grow, he'll become a mage on par with His Majesty the current King. However…"
He had harbored that sense of unease from the moment he became capable of thought. It gradually accumulated after he began receiving magic lessons.
Everyone praised him. They praised him, but… there was always something caught between their teeth, as though they were swallowing the words they truly wanted to say.
And perhaps the fact that he noticed this so early was the greatest misfortune of Ermes's life.
What he had absorbed purely and innocently when he was truly small gradually — so gradually — began to bother him. He could no longer take genuine joy in the praise of those around him. He began to doubt.
He was perceptive enough to do so… and the nobles around him were such terrible liars that they let a young child see through them far too easily.
Doubts and unease piled up until one day he could bear it no longer.
When, wanting to know the truth, he went to ask his father the King directly—
—the timing couldn't have been worse, and he heard it instead.
"Your Majesty, I must insist you come to your senses!"
What reached his ears from beyond the door was a furious shouting unlike anything he had ever heard before.
Young Ermes flinched, but immediately recognized the voice — it was his tutor, the one who had always vaguely praised him.
The moment he realized this, he was terrified to hear what came next… but curiosity made it impossible not to listen. As he strained his ears, those words flew in:
"—Allow me to speak plainly. Prince Ermes is a 'failure.'"
"……?"
"His abilities are certainly not poor. If he continues to grow properly, he will naturally rank among the upper tier of magic users among past generations of the royal family. However!"
The tutor was so oblivious to the dumbfounded Ermes listening outside that she continued without pause:
"He comes nowhere near the 'Sky Witch'! No matter how much he grows, no matter what he does, reaching that realm is impossible!"
"……"
"Your Majesty! You displaced that woman to take the throne — which means you must produce a mage who surpasses her in the next generation! Otherwise, what meaning was there in your ascending to the crown!"
"Exactly! You have a duty to prove that your judgment in expelling her was not wrong! Do you fully understand that!?"
"And yet — what is this? You won't even rein in Prince Ermes, and worse, you say to 'treat him as nothing more than an ordinary royal'!"
"A failed product should be discarded early — that's what past generations of the royal family did! You must produce the greatest mage in the kingdom's history! If you understand that, then hurry and create the 'next' one—!"
The tutor's voice, along with the voices of others, drowned out the King's response.
No — even if it had reached his ears, he could never have understood it.
"……Failure… product…?"
For young Ermes, those words alone bore down on him with crushing weight.
He could only stand there, those words seared into him, before turning away from the door.
From that day onward, everything connected.
"Even compared to past generations of the royal family, you are sufficiently excellent, but…"
"You'll become a mage on par with His Majesty. However…"
Those words — all of them — were because what always followed was "but he won't reach the Sky Witch."
Everyone around him was trapped by that phantom. Not a single person saw Ermes for what he could have been — a perfectly capable mage being raised with proper care.
Whether he could surpass the Sky Witch.
That was all that mattered. He understood that if he couldn't, he had no value whatsoever.
Naturally, he looked into it.
Roselia Kirsch von Yustia. The former Third Princess, expelled from the kingdom due to her outrageous conduct and irreconcilable ideology, who was a mage of extraordinary power.
Official records had been purged, but those accessible through royal authority contained extensive accounts.
Learning of her Triple Aptitude nearly broke his spirit on the spot.
Understanding that her magic was far beyond anything he could hope to match, he knew it was hopeless.
From the various anecdotes she left behind, he came to realize this was someone who existed on an entirely different stage — someone he could never reach even in a lifetime.
Even so, he couldn't stop.
As heir to the throne, he had to become the greatest king. Beyond that, he could be nothing else. He understood this — both by birth and by ability, that was simply how it was.
So he fought desperately.
A mage's ability was determined by Bloodline Magic — the upper limit of one's power was set from the moment of birth. He understood this more than anyone, yet he still fought. He had no choice but to fight. There was nothing else he could do.
……But.
In the end, he was just a single individual. He was not the vessel to overturn a custom that encompassed the entire kingdom, and that fact itself proved more conclusively than anything that he could never reach the Sky Witch.
The disappointed gazes of those around him grew sharper with each passing day. Before long, no one even bothered to hide that they held no expectations for him anymore.
And then—
His younger brother, the Second Prince Aster, was born. The instant he arrived, everyone was transfixed by his vastly superior magic power. Every last person celebrated Aster and paid Ermes no attention.
Finally, when Aster was five years old—
"What's this… is that all? How disappointing, brother."
The moment Aster's Bloodline Magic manifested and Ermes was instantly annihilated without being able to do a single thing—
Ermes's identity was utterly and completely destroyed.
◆
I wanted to become something special.
I wanted to believe there was something only I could do.
But he had understood far too young that he could not become the special one he desired — and that the world would turn perfectly fine without him. From then on, he lived like a dead man in the shadow of his brother, who drew all attention and swelled with arrogance.
……He knew.
His inferiority complex, his desires — those were picked up conveniently by that man called Laplace and his honeyed words. Before he knew it, he had been roped into a scheme to destabilize the kingdom. The empty throne he once craved was no longer needed, so he was discarded. And now they were making him face this incomprehensible monster — this thing his father, whom he had always despised, had desperately kept hidden from them.
He was — nothing more than a fool. He had understood this long, long ago.
Probably, anything more he tried to do would only burden those around him.
And so, understanding that he could never be either a protagonist or even a proper supporting character, he figured it would be best for the world if he simply died and made his exit.
……But.
"But still…!"
—Then why was he born in the first place?
That one question, he simply couldn't let go of. That one answer — he needed to know.
So, at the very least—
"Oh… so you really came."
The boy looked at him with an expression that said "as expected." A hint of boredom, and yet — well, it might serve as a way to kill time — flickering with a languid killing intent.
There was not a shred of seriousness in those eyes. It was plain as day that this creature simply did not see him as worthy of notice.
A monster. A humanoid creature. Self-proclaimed Karma.
The King had judged this thing too dangerous to leave be — had determined it must be destroyed at the cost of neglecting nearly all affairs of state — and that judgment was justified. This was a creature of truly monstrous power, a genuine aberration.
Ermes knew, more than he ever wanted to, through their confrontations thus far, that he was no match for it. This was something the entire kingdom would need to mobilize against.
He knew, he knew — but still.
After everything he had done, after this monster's defeat — if the aftermath of his actions were left to others, if someone else swept it away—
Wouldn't that be… too pathetic? Wouldn't he lose all understanding of why he had existed up to this point?
Ah, so that was why.
He didn't care about the throne anymore. He didn't care about his life. He didn't care what became of him.
Just — let him defeat this one creature with his own strength. Give him something — anything — accomplished by his own hand.
Let him leave behind in this country a positive mark that he lived.
"Annoying monster. You're the only one I'll kill."
"That again? That's all you ever say… You're a boring person, you know. Of everyone I've met so far, you take the prize by a mile."
Their two voices — one a declaration of thoroughly clarified killing intent, the other dripping with exasperation — were exchanged briefly before—
The monster and the merely human clashed for what must have been the dozenth time.
Next time: Ermes vs. Karma. Look forward to it!