Chapter 10

　　Oscar calmly observed his brother.

　　Ever since they left the village, his brother’s gaze had remained fixed on the window, unmoving. Oscar still couldn’t believe he was accompanying them so peacefully.

　　He’s so quiet it’s terrifying.

　　When Oscar had arrived at the location his father had told him, he had been stunned to find his brother living a perfectly normal life. He was nothing like the brother Oscar knew.

　　One day, his father had returned from a sudden trip to the kingdom, summoned Oscar, and announced out of the blue, “You have a brother.”

　　“…I have a brother?” Since when? Had his father sired a child out of wedlock? It was unthinkable. His father was not an irresponsible man, not the type to be swept up by a moment’s passion. Even if he had been, he would have brought the woman home and made her his wife. He had been thoroughly drilled on the duties and responsibilities of the head of the family.

　　“Yes. You do.”

　　His father’s frank admission was difficult to believe. “Then why was he kept away all this time? And why tell me only now?”

　　At first, Oscar assumed his father had been secretly caring for his brother. That in itself was strange, but for a being like his brother to grow up ‘normally,’ perhaps it had been necessary. The Randolph bloodline was special, after all.

　　“I didn’t know he had been born.”

　　The explanation was bewildering. Though he knew his father never joked, Oscar thought it had to be a prank. “You didn’t know he was born?”

　　“Correct. I have no memory of being with any woman other than your mother.”

　　“…Then how can he be your son?”

　　“I can surmise the circumstances. And you will know when you see him.”

　　That was the end of it. His father fell silent, signaling the conversation was over. Oscar, for his part, had no desire to pry into his father’s past.

　　“When will my brother arrive?” he asked, meekly accepting the new reality.

　　“He arrived with me.”

　　His father’s blue eyes stared at him, cold and impassive. Understanding the unspoken command, Oscar replied curtly, “I will conduct myself appropriately.”

　　“Do not clash with him carelessly.”

　　Oscar was a Randolph, too. He had inherited the family’s special blood, and because of it, his emotions were not particularly delicate. He felt no betrayal or resentment toward his father. “I had no such intention.”

　　He felt no aversion toward this brother, though he felt no kinship either. He certainly had no plans to ostracize him. He was, after all, ‘family,’ and he had been taught that family must care for one another.

　　“This is a warning. For your own good.”

　　“What do you mean?”

　　“It seems he has inherited the power of our blood more strongly than I.”

　　“I will be careful.”

　　Even as he said it, Oscar didn’t take his father’s words too seriously. Bloodlines, by nature, diluted over generations. It had been true for him, so he assumed it would be the same for his brother.

　　But the brother he met was a wreck.

　　“…Brother, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Oscar.”

　　The face that stared back was a blank canvas, utterly devoid of emotion. He was completely unsocialized. Oscar’s attempts at conversation were met with silence. The man acted on impulse, possessing no common sense. He was less a human and more a beast, driven by pure instinct.

　　This is serious.

　　His brother, he’d been told, was found on a battlefield in a kingdom far from the Empire, where he had been treated as less than human. The family had to formally ‘request his transfer’ from a man who claimed to be his master. Hearing of his past, Oscar had expected the worst, but the reality was far more grim.

　　This stranger was now his brother, and this place was just as foreign to him as he was to Oscar. Deciding to help him acclimate, Oscar gave him the best room in the estate next to their father’s, provided him with the finest food, and offered him every luxury. He told him to ask for anything he desired.

　　But his brother refused almost everything. He slept in a corner instead of the bed and barely touched his food. He was so wary that Oscar couldn’t get close. He could only hope his brother would soon realize he was safe and begin to adapt.

　　That hope was quickly shattered.

　　Returning from an outing one day, Oscar knew instantly that something was wrong. A deafening roar echoed from the mansion, and knights were scrambling toward the source of the commotion. A terrifying aura pulsed from within. Oscar broke into a run. Arriving at the scene, he took in the devastation and shouted, “Calm down, Brother!”

　　Despite Oscar’s desperate plea, the blue eyes remained cold and empty.

　　“Move.”

　　Oscar’s gaze swept the area. The mansion was half-destroyed. Knights lay scattered on the ground, groaning in pain. Those still on their feet kept a cautious distance, their hands hovering uncertainly near their weapons, unable to even draw them. Only the author of this carnage stood impassive.

　　“Why have you done this?”

　　“I’m leaving.”

　　So he had created this mayhem just to leave. The staff was well-trained; they wouldn’t have blocked his path rudely. They would have politely requested that he speak with Oscar or their father before departing.

　　He resorted to violence first…

　　In that moment, Oscar knew he could never let him leave. “This is your home, Brother.”

　　He tried to reason with him, to tell him he belonged here. But his words only seemed to sharpen the man’s aura, which had begun to settle. Oscar couldn’t understand why his brother was so desperate to leave.

　　“You have nowhere else to go, do you?”

　　He had only spoken the truth, but it was like poking a hornet’s nest. A ferocious energy erupted from his brother.

　　“I am leaving. Do not block my path.”

　　At the explosive force, Oscar’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. It was a primal urge to protect himself. But as his eyes met his brother’s, a single, frantic thought seared through his mind.

　　Don’t draw your sword!

　　He managed to freeze his hand just in time. His brother’s gaze was locked onto his hand. Cold sweat trickled down his back.

　　If I had drawn it, he would have attacked me.

　　He finally understood why the standing knights were empty-handed. They were alive because they hadn’t raised their weapons. His heart hammered against his ribs. Every nerve screamed at him to flee. He couldn’t block the path, couldn’t show any hint of aggression.

　　I could actually die.

　　Thanks to his superior bloodline, Oscar had always been a cut above the rest, with combat power unmatched by his peers. Yet before those indifferent eyes, he was frozen. He was consumed by the same powerlessness he felt only in his father’s presence. It was then that he truly understood—his brother was a dangerous being.

　　I can’t let him leave.

　　The secret history of their family flooded his mind. The House of Randolph, a ducal line that had served as the Empire’s sword and shield since its founding. For generations, they had produced exceptional individuals. The secret was the identity of their founder—a dragon.

　　That legendary creature, now a relic of a bygone era, was their ancestor. It was not common knowledge, but the children born of a dragon in human form inherited some of its traits, including superior physical abilities, immense magical talent, and one significant drawback.

　　They possessed an ego fundamentally different from that of a human. The first Randolphs were born almost devoid of emotion. They had superior intellect but lacked the capacity for joy, empathy, or sorrow. ‘Why are they happy? Why are they sad? Why should I be considerate? Why is it wrong to kill?’ They could not comprehend such things.

　　The founder, understanding this was a side effect of his draconic blood, foresaw what would become of his descendants if left unchecked: living weapons of slaughter, possessing immense power and no hesitation.

　　So he taught them meticulously ‘how to live like humans.’ He forced them to acquire empathy. Being highly intelligent, they learned to apply these lessons and live among people. But the problem was hereditary, so the founder ordered his direct descendants to continue this special education for all future generations. For centuries, the House of Randolph survived, integrating into human society. Troublemakers arose, but the family head always kept them in check.

　　Over time, human blood diluted the draconic lineage. The power weakened. Transcendent beings like the first Randolphs no longer appeared. Their abilities were merely exceptional for humans, and their emotional capacity was normal.

　　Oscar was a prime example. He was considered the most ‘human’ Randolph ever born.

　　In contrast, some were still born with a potent concentration of the dragon’s power. The current Duke, Oscar’s father, was one. And his newfound brother was another.

　　“It seems he has inherited the power of our blood more strongly than I.”