I Am the Weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings but the Demons Are Obsessed With Me

17 – Rosa Primrose

My father was a fool—or so kind it seemed so.

From the dawn of the Empire, he was the head of a knightly family that continued through the ages, a lord at the end of the world who guarded the boundary from the demon realm.

Despite not a single one of his titles being light in weight, my father was free from all those honors.

He was more engaged in camaraderie than politics, and he was well-versed in military tactics over political scheming. He always shared drinks informally with his subordinates and stepped forward boldly to lead the most perilous battles.

I despised my father for that. The odors of alcohol, metal, soil, and blood—I couldn’t possibly hate them more on him.

It was the same that day.

My father came searching for me with the jangling scent of metal. Even in the moments that might have been the last opportunity to see his daughter, he came not with his bare face but wearing his helmet reversed.

Beside my father stood a man in a strange mask. Without any simple introduction, my father just commanded, with his soft voice unyieldingly,

“Rosa, you’ll go with this man. He will take you to Duke Ruskin.”

“Daddy?”

“Just follow slowly.”

“…Okay, got it.”

My father was a man who was poor at lying. Even I, as a child, could immediately notice it.

But I, as a child, was mature enough to pretend not to know about the lies, and childish enough not to realize that it’s okay for kids to act like kids.

I loved all the smells from my dad: the scent of alcohol, the smell of sweat, and everything else.

I was okay even when he didn’t read me children’s stories. After all, he could hardly read a book. I was fine when he ruffled my hair with a foolish smile, every now and again.

Every time my dad hugged me, I was genuinely happy. Even feeling his prickly beard against my skin wasn’t so bad.

Dad.

I love you.

-“…Half-human, young master. May I know your name?”

-“You jest to ask a shadow for his name, how cruel. Will a fake name suffice?”

-“Huh, do not taunt one who is soon to rest in a tomb. The dead do not speak, do they?”

-“…They often do not. I am Woocheon. It means ‘raining sky’ in the language of my homeland.”

-“Woocheon… I will entrust Rosa to you one more time.”

-“Do not worry. I will definitely protect her. Ms. Rosa Primrose. Let’s go.”

-“…”

Like all separations, it wasn’t a entirely satisfactory one.

But perhaps that was the best we could do.

After a few days of brief travel, I found a sanctuary in the demesne of the King Ruskin. He was a kind man who took good care of me.

A few days after arriving, I learned that my father had died. I cried all that day.

The next morning, I washed my tear-streaked face and swore. I would become someone who would not bring shame to the name of Primrose.

Since then, I’ve honed my skills with the sword. I’ve learned magic and studied strategy and tactics.

The talent inherited from my father and the vengeful spirit spurred by his death helped me grow. I had talent and determination. My growth pace was frightening. There wasn’t anyone among my peers who could match me.

I wanted to become stronger, so I enrolled in the academy. King Ruskin provided me with a letter of recommendation.

I thought I could become stronger here, a gathering place for various talents from the world. It was the perfect place to grow stronger.

And, in my first class at the academy, which I was eagerly awaiting, appeared…

A horrible creature emanating an immense curse.

“I am Plum R. Orchid. I will be teaching you the basic theories of magic for this semester. I look forward to seeing your progress.”

The cursed clan.

My head was ringing. Every time I swung my sword, I thought of ripping the fiends apart. Every time I studied strategy, I conspired ways to drive the fiends back.

The grudge was already etched into my bones, not my heart. The habitual hostility kept pressing on me.

“Ha! I am supposed to learn magic from a cursed fiend like you?”

I criticized him. It didn’t matter if it was right or wrong, or that the author was a professor at the academy. Criticizing him was my duty, who had lost his family to fiends.

But he just smiled at my criticism. It was a kind and… beautiful smile.

And so, he was taken aback. At that moment, when he was about to spew another word in anger.

An incredible sentence came through.

“I am indebted to the late Earl Primrose. It gives me great pleasure to meet his successor like this.”

“…What?”

“I once received a fine bottle of wine from the late Earl Primrose. He often spoke of you, but I had no idea I would encounter you this way.”

“Don’t just blather—”

“Do you still cuddle Brown to sleep every night?”

The blood in his head ran cold. The surrounding scenery snapped into sharp focus.

The gazes of fellow students stung. The man’s gentle smile was terrifying. He was not lying. He really did know his father.

Otherwise, there was no way he would know the name of the teddy bear that he cuddled every night.

Only then did he realize the gravity of his recent outburst. He saw clearly how crude and violent his tirade had been.

A half-human half-devil. Someone who had lived their whole life enduring discrimination. Yet, a person skilled enough to be a professor at the academy. A person gentle enough to defuse the tension with a mere smile, even amidst such verbal assault. A person who was to be his mentor henceforth.

Even if the man’s claims of knowing his father were a lie, he was undeserving of such abuse.

He felt appallingly muddled.

What on earth.

What had he done?

*

He felt giddy. It was fascinating and delightful to see that the little kid he had once known had grown so much.

It was as if he had received an unexpected gift. The myriad times that had been spent in the organization didn’t feel so meaningless after all.

This must be why people say sentimentality grows with age.

‘I might need to teach him properly.’

The late Earl Primrose had requested him to protect that child. The mission from that time had been completed, but his plea wasn’t part of the mission; it was personal.

So, there was no problem in honouring that request again.

Laying out the syllabus to one side, I began to reconsider the minute details of the lectures. The dusk steadily seeped in through the window, dyeing the papers a reddish hue.

It had been a long-overdue evening shift.

The unpaid overtime was even enjoyable, perhaps due to the improved mood.

It was as if, by magic.

[Theoretical Basic Magic Studies]

[Detailed Syllabus]

In the room bathed in the deep blue light of the night sky.

I laid down my pen and stretched out. My tense body relaxed, drowsiness landing gently over my eyelids.

Tonight.

From Noble mtl dot com

It felt like a night I could sleep deeply.