The Strongest Brother Lost His Memory

“She doesn’t seem particularly special... but there’s something about that apprentice that gets under my skin.”

The High Priest added the comment in passing.

“They say the Magic Tower was preserved thanks to something her brother said before he lost his memory. And that’s why the Dyfenril Duchy survived as well.”

“So I’ve heard...”

“And their slave-born grandfather is now making quite a spectacle of himself at the Grand Nobles’ Assembly.”

“Don’t worry... That won’t last much longer.”

“Indeed. I trust you, my most capable son.”

“Thank you.”

“When the day comes that I truly descend upon the Land of Glory, you will be the one laughing closest to me and for the longest time.”

The reason the High Priest hadn't yet moved against the Noart Count Family, despite them being a nuisance, was because the power gap remained significant.

And because he had much bigger plans in motion.

Julian Noart’s sudden appearance five years ago had been a major variable, but now he had lost all his former abilities. The Temple's calculated interference had clearly paid off.

‘Still... I’d like to see Rosie just once more.’

Yuta sat there, face pale with exhaustion, thinking.

‘Before I... before I die.’

Then he let out a dry chuckle and shook his head.

‘It’s probably just a meaningless desire. Or maybe a leftover regret? I’m sure she doesn’t need me anymore.’

Julian, though amnesiac, clearly still cherished her.

The Count of Noart and Theo stood firmly at her side.

And those two boys who clung to her like loyal dogs never left her alone.

For the past three months, he had watched Rosie’s face light up daily, her days carefree and cheerful.

He had seen her expression ease after the tense encounter with the High Priest, and that reassured him. It looked like she no longer had to lie awake at night burdened with worry.

She would live a normal life surrounded by people who loved her. And eventually, she'd forget all about the student-teacher relationship they once had at the Academy.

‘Well... that’s enough.’

Clenching his trembling fingers into a fist to hide the pain, Yuta closed his eyes quietly.

‘My choice was the right one.’

* * *

A few days later, at the Noart estate.

“Alright, let’s get moving! Get ready!”

Caliban roared with boisterous laughter.

“We’ve got to be ready to celebrate Rosie’s birthday the moment she comes back! Prepare something huge!”

He had secretly found out Rosie’s birthday.

Granted, it wasn’t her real birthday—the date recorded in the Temple differed from the actual one—but Caliban didn’t know that.

Fortunately, the birthday listed in the Temple records came well after graduation.

“Birthdays are meant to be celebrated long and loud! Hahaha! I want everything to sparkle! I like it flashy! I want it to reek of money!”

Thanks to that, the entire estate was abuzz preparing for Rosie’s birthday party.

“Of course, we’ll be there in person to pick her up on graduation day! It’s been ages since our youngest granddaughter came home—we have to go greet her!”

While Caliban stirred up a storm, Julian added fuel to the fire.

“Let’s invite that brat, too, Grandpa.”

Naturally, “that brat” referred to Zahid.

“This is who we are—a vulgar nouveau riche family! We’ve got nothing but money to throw around! Let’s show him just how poorly we match!”

“Exactly! Let’s make it perfectly clear how we’re a tasteless, extravagant bunch throwing a ludicrous party for a twelve-year-old girl!”

With that, Julian and Caliban joined forces, turning the entire estate upside down and setting off for the Academy in time for graduation.

They brought so many carriages, worried that Rosie might feel small, that the house itself felt emptied out.

Watching it all, Felide—the Count’s second son—clicked his tongue.

“...Honestly, Father... This is too much. Way too much.”

He didn’t care at all about his son Ethan, who remained at the Magic Tower.

He had already given up on that child. Since Ethan didn’t hang around in front of him, he found it more convenient.

“He’s handing his guts and liver over to those two siblings. Has he gone completely senile?”

Standing beside him, Monica spoke up.

“Well, can you blame him? The little ones are all playing their roles perfectly, wagging their tails. They say grandkids are precious in old age. And those two look just like their grandfather, too.”

Monica clicked her tongue in clear disapproval.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Only Valia, Julian, and Rosie ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) had inherited Caliban’s silver hair and green eyes.

“And now he’s even made it into the Grand Nobles’ Assembly—must be thrilled.”

The Grand Nobles’ Assembly.

There, Caliban was finally achieving his youthful dream—working tirelessly to hinder the Temple’s influence.

“Even that sly Julian, despite the amnesia, is acting clever. Pretending he doesn’t care, while pushing to invite the Duke of Dyfenril. Constantly reminding everyone just how ‘useful’ Rosie is.”

Monica crossed her arms and sighed.

“Meanwhile, our kids don’t even show their faces around the estate...”

She hadn't heard from her only son Theo in quite some time, and her mood had soured terribly.

By now, he should’ve been diagnosed with hand tremors and withdrawn from the Academy. But despite it being long past time for him to return, there had been no word.

She’d continued sending letters like before, but it was clear he wasn’t reading them. Even urgent questions received no reply.

She’d even lied about finding one of his father’s heirlooms—but that hadn’t worked either.

‘Has he figured something out? He’s not even opening the letters...’

Grinding her teeth, Monica scowled.

‘He’s clinging to worthless things just like his useless father... No ambition at all.’

Theo’s father, now deceased, had been a professor at the Academy—an unambitious man who cared nothing for the world and was obsessed with research. His field? Magical nanoscience, of all things.

That Theo would end up exactly like him—it made Monica’s head pound.

“Can’t be helped, I guess.”

Felide spat on the ground and grumbled.

“When do kids ever turn out the way you want? All we’ve got are disappointments. We can’t even put them up as rivals—what’s the point in comparing?”

“Well...”

Monica raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly.

“Maybe I can’t do anything... but you might be able to take a chance.”

Felide frowned, not following. Monica beamed.

“I’m saying let’s put our heads together—just the two of us—and do something, at least until those disgusting siblings get shoved back into the background.”

“...What?”

“We’ve succeeded once before, haven’t we?”

She lowered her voice suggestively. Felide’s brows creased.

“Don’t tell me you want to contact the Temple again? We agreed we’d only do it once, just to stick it to Julian while Father was away!”

In truth, they had once leaked information about Julian to the Temple.

It had infuriated them to see Julian poised to inherit the Count’s title.

It was thanks to them that Julian had been targeted by the Temple and ended up in his current state.

“What’s stopping us from doing it twice? And don’t you think the Temple owes us something? They promised to kill Julian but only managed to wipe his memory! This time, they’ll help us more aggressively.”

As Monica whispered, Felide’s eyes began to glimmer with anticipation.

“And leave the eldest brother out of it again. He’ll just backstab us using Roystan as usual... Let’s make our move, just the two of us.”

Monica’s voice was honeyed, seductive. Felide leaned in, intrigued.

“Ahem... Got any good ideas?”

“If we don’t have a suitable child, we’ll just make a new one.”

Monica smiled sweetly.

“Now that the little apprentice girl is coming back, those siblings will be running wild at the estate. Are we just going to sit back and watch?”

Felide’s eyes gleamed with greedy light.