Kill the Author, Then to Hell - Chapter 8.1

“Ah, that’s…”

“You mentioned that you wanted to go to the Academy, didn’t you? Was Mother’s passing that much of a shock to you?”

I was nervous about how he would respond, but Johan didn’t seem intent on pressing the issue.

Instead, his face was filled with concern for his younger sister.

“As you know, Edith, women cannot use magic. Wishing for the impossible will only hurt you.”

Johan looked as though he was swallowing a bitter pill on my behalf.

“Do you remember what happened when you were nine?”

Of course, I remembered.

Just hearing ‘what happened when you were nine’ brought back the sharp sting of shame young Edith had felt.

<Why can Peter do it but not me? It’s not fair!>

That day was Peter’s seventh birthday.

<Ha, our Peter is ready now.>

Dad had announced with a pleased expression that from now on, he would call Peter every day to teach him magic from the basics. Brother Johan was already assisting Dad in his laboratory.

<Dad, I want to learn magic too!>

Edith—rather, I—had thrown a tantrum.

Peter couldn’t even go to the bathroom by himself at night and still couldn’t eat cabbage. I was faster than Peter in running.

I believed there was no reason Peter could do it, and I couldn’t.

Then, Johan, trying to console me, brought out a ‘Magic Gauge’.

<Look at this.>

Brother placed a rather heavy silver sphere in my hand.

<What’s this, Brother Johan?>

<See, nothing happens in your hand, right?>

Indeed, that was the case.

The sphere remained a sphere, and all I could feel was the cold metal in my hand.

Johan then pulled out another sphere, identical to the first, from his pocket and handed it to Peter.

<Peter, your turn now.>

And I could never forget the moment the sphere was placed in Peter’s small hands.

Pop—

The moment it touched his hands, the sphere burst into a colorful firework display with a splendid sound.

It was a beautiful sight, enough to make me forget what I was doing and stare blankly.

Miraculously, the fire didn’t spread to anything in the house.

The colors eventually disappeared one by one.

The last lingering afterimage was blue.

<As expected of my son. It’s no surprise he’s good with alchemy given the bloodline… With this level of latent magic power, he’ll at least be mid to upper tier already!>

Dad laughed heartily, patting Peter on the back. Peter, missing his front teeth, giggled, and I…

I couldn’t believe it.

So, I rubbed the sphere, squeezed it, even threw it, silently praying for the fireworks to burst.

But it was futile.

Nothing happened, no matter what I did, just like when I chanted in the warp booth yesterday.

I ran into my room crying, and since that day, I consciously avoided anything related to magic.

That was the incident Johan was referring to.

“I was relieved you gave up on such vain dreams after that. But hearing what Peter said, I got worried. You’re okay, right?”

Johan was looking at my face with eyes full of concern.

‘Hmm, he seems caring, but it’s weirdly irritating.’

I debated whether to trust this unfounded feeling and decided to pretend to be the naive younger sister on the surface.

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday because I was so sad. I wondered if I could have protected Mom if I had learned magic.”

Johan seemed somewhat relieved by my words.

But I didn’t let the bait I had thrown out just sit there.

“I see. But protect? You know Mom was so frail, and even magic potions couldn’t help. Not even Father, an outstanding mage, could do anything.”

His tone suggested he believed Mom’s death was simply due to illness.

‘But…’

I thought back to Peter’s bloodshot eyes as he ran out of the basement.

If Peter had guessed something, what are the chances that Johan, who saw the same thing in the same place, felt nothing was amiss?

Moreover, Johan is receiving successor lessons as the eldest son.

‘It’s highly likely he was deeply involved in Mother’s death or at least turned a blind eye to it.’

That’s probably why he’s so sensitive even to his younger sister’s casual remarks.

Therefore, it was even more crucial not to arouse any further suspicion.

I replied as innocently yet sullenly as possible.

“I know, I know. It’s just, I can’t believe Mother is gone. I guess I ended up indulging in such absurd fantasies.”

Johan reached across the table to hold my hand without saying a word. His hand was warm and firm.

“You won’t tell Dad, will you? I don’t want to worry him when he’s already so sad.”

I blinked my moist eyes several times, appealing to Johan, while thinking to myself,

‘Wow, I’m nailing the innocent younger sister act.’

Right, I shouldn’t worry Dad.

The plan is to shoot him with the gun at the first sign of a slip-up, but it would be problematic if I alarmed him and made him put up his defenses.

Johan seemed to fall for it, smiling as sweetly as honey.

“Yeah, of course. I won’t say a word.”

“You’re the best, Brother! Thank you so much!”

As I pretended to be relieved and started spooning up my soup,

Johan watched me contentedly before murmuring almost to himself.

“…Sometimes I envy you, Edith.”

“Huh? Why?”

I almost blurted out, ‘Then let’s trade places!’ but when I looked up, Johan seemed profoundly melancholic.

“Maybe it’s better not to be able to use magic… I wish I had been born a girl like you.”

No matter how much I pressed, Johan wouldn’t say more.

‘Why does he do this? Don’t people know the two best ways to annoy someone? The first is to stop talking mid-sentence!’

I returned to my room full of curiosity, and it wasn’t long before I guessed the reason.

Thanks to the [Prickled Ears] buff.