Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 184

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A Successor? I’d Rather Just Heal — Episode 184

Lion asked Nature to conjure a small flame, and she obliged.
In the pitch-dark room, the tiny fire revealed only the diary and Lion’s hand as he turned its pages.
Ricshel hesitated for a moment, then sat down close beside Lion and gazed at the diary.
Since his brother was already here, achieving the original objective would be difficult.
And what was he even supposed to say about this?
The Head of Household’s true thoughts were something he’d always wanted to know.
Though he never imagined he’d learn them by sneaking a peek at his diary like this.

‘I was curious.’

What kind of things did the Head of Household write in his diary?
Would there be worries, or complaints he couldn’t voice to anyone else?
Or perhaps…
The inner struggles he could never share with a soul—maybe those were written here.
The Head of Household was an extraordinary mage, a nobleman, and a hero’s trusted ally.
It made sense that he would find those who fell short of his standards wanting.
Perhaps…

‘I might be falling short myself.’

By ordinary standards, Ricshel was exceptional.
But measured against the Head of Household, he was not.
Even with his utmost effort, he could barely reach the tips of his toes.
Would he ever gain the strength to protect the world as the Head of Household had, even if he aged ten years more?

‘And I can barely earn my brother’s trust.’

Perhaps that was why his curiosity evaporated so quickly, replaced by a creeping unease.

“Ricshel.”

Then Lion reached out and patted his shoulder lightly.
It was only a gentle touch, yet it brought Ricshel an inexplicable sense of calm.

‘…Yes.’

Everything was fine.
Even if he fell short of the Head of Household’s expectations, the Head of Household would never view him as disappointing or shameful.
The same was true of his brother.
Ricshel nodded slowly, and only then did Lion carefully open to the first page of the diary.
And there was…

“This is…”
“Yeah.”

Contrary to the tension they both felt, the content dated far further back than Ricshel had expected.

—A child was born. We have decided to call her Lara.

So it began with the birth of Patrick’s daughter—Lion and Ricshel’s mother, Lara.
Ricshel found himself speechless, staring blankly at the neat handwriting.
And Lion was in the same state.
Though it was supposed to be their grandfather’s diary, they never imagined it would contain something like this.

‘The truth is…’

They had crept in secretly, searching for fragments of heroic deeds or glimpses of the past.
But when I found myself without a shred of personal material on the hero, let alone the man himself, I stumbled upon his diary.
I never dreamed Ricshel would bring it.

‘When did that principled fool start breaking his own rules?’

Granted, sneaking into someone else’s room and stealing glances at their diary weren’t exactly virtuous acts, but all the same, there was something satisfying about watching Ricshel crack the mold he’d built for himself.
And.

‘I never knew grandfather kept a diary.’

The world’s image of Patrick Asteri certainly didn’t suggest he would.
A man of ice who would record only the bare facts of any given event.
Though admittedly, in recent years, he’d grown considerably warmer.
Lion gazed for quite some time at a single short line visible between the flickering flames.
Perhaps it was the fire, but even that sparse entry seemed to pulse with a warmth, a vitality that belied its austere simplicity.

“I’ll keep reading.”
“Of course.”

Lion turned the pages slowly.
The diary wasn’t written continuously.
In fact, it felt less like a diary and more like notes.
It seemed he’d jotted down nothing more than a single careless line on each special day.
The Archmage who could recite every formula in the world would never forget memories of such importance—this had to be the mark of joy he couldn’t contain.
And it showed.
Reading the entries themselves was enough to make him smile.

—Why does mother know how to speak but father doesn’t?
—Brought a heap of toys, and only then did he do it.
—Daughter’s third birthday today, but a thief’s prank made her cry, so we had to end the celebration early.

Old colleagues were mentioned in passing now and then, but they were treated not as heroes or their allies, merely as colleagues or friends.

—Mobilized Magic Tower personnel for the first debutante presentation and got caught by my wife. She gave me an earful. But no one has discovered that I’ve been pressuring the Imperial Palace yet, so the plan continues as intended.
—Since the debutante, the Crown Prince’s gaze upon my daughter has been unmistakably indecent.

There followed curses so grave and biting they could never have been written by grandfather, and Lion hastily turned the page.
Moreover, it appeared he’d lost control of his mana during the outburst—whole sections of the diary had been charred.

—Resolved it.

“…….”

This was the first time fear had gripped him while reading someone else’s diary.
Though admittedly, this was his first time reading someone else’s diary at all.
Both Lion and Ricshel had lost sight of their original purpose.
Time passed as swiftly as the short entries suggested.
Lara—mother—found someone to love, married, had children.
And with each passage, the ink seemed to grow sharper, more vivid.

—A grandson was born. They asked me to name him, so I gave him the name Lion.

“…….”

And so Lion Asteri came into the world.

—Decided to focus the Magic Tower’s research toward medical applications.
—A second grandson was born. Again they asked for a name, and I named him Ricshel.

Lion paused before turning to the next page.
Ricshel’s birth meant one thing: she had reached the end of this diary.
Lara’s mother had passed away not long after giving birth to him.

“It’s all right.”

Ricshel spoke in a calmer voice than before.

“I see.”

Lion turned the diary to the next page.
The remaining pages were nearly blank.
But there were traces of someone having tried to write.
The fine paper was wrinkled and warped.

“So this is where it ends.”
“There’s still more.”

As Lion turned past the blank space, new words appeared on the page.
It was the very last entry—and the only one containing their grandfather’s personal reflection.

—I wish to teach my children all the things that Lara could not give them.

The words were pressed harder into the paper than the rest, as if written with deliberate force.
Lion traced the texture of the letters slowly with his fingertips, then closed the book.
He felt many things at once.
Patrick Asteri, as Lion understood him, had been the hero’s companion and Lion’s own grandfather.
He knew too of the man’s profound love for his family.
But this—he had never imagined this side of him.
That Patrick was a father too, that he had loved his daughter, that he had outlived his own child.
Lion realized he had missed so much simply because the old man had never shown them this face.

‘Truly a man like an ancient tree.’

He was like the World Tree that symbolized House Asteri.
Grand and generous, providing shelter and shade.
Yet never displaying the rings of his years to the world.

‘I didn’t find what I was looking for, though.’

Lion toyed with the diary’s cover absently before closing it.
In truth, there had been another reason he’d crept into the Head of Household’s quarters.
He had hoped to find materials about the hero or her companions.
Still, somehow, his heart felt lighter.

“But why did you sneak into this room?”
“……Pardon?”

Ricshel had been lost in thought and only now startled back to awareness.

“I came in out of boredom, sure—but you didn’t.”

Ricshel’s mind raced.
He’d thought the pleasant mood might carry them past this moment, but clearly it wouldn’t.

‘Even if I were the older brother, I’d ask.’

Unless one was the older brother, such an act would be extraordinary.
Ricshel started to answer, then hesitated.

‘……Wait. I don’t have to answer.’

Isn’t that how it goes? You don’t answer difficult questions either—you just glide past them naturally.
So I should be allowed to do the same, shouldn’t I?

“It’s a secret.”
“What?”
“I’d prefer not to say. You do the same, don’t you?”

At Ricshel’s firmness, Lion let out a hollow laugh.
He’d thought his younger brother was all sweetness, but he must have gotten a bit prickly after their last conversation.

“Fine. Fair enough.”
…….

Was he really letting this drop?
Ricshel was caught off guard.

“You’ll be coming of age soon, and you’re at the right age for adolescence to hit. It makes sense you’d have secrets now. Sure.”

Ricshel wanted to object—to say that wasn’t it at all—but he feared that if he spoke up, he’d end up confessing everything, so he simply sealed his lips.
He’d always thought he was rather good with words, but Lion’s eloquence was simply in another league.
Thoroughly outmaneuvered, Ricshel drew a long, deep sigh and got to his feet.

“Since I’m in my adolescent phase, I should make a full confession of my wrongdoings to my guardian.”
“Huh?”
“The guilt is too much to bear while I’m still a minor, it seems.”
“Hold on. Wait a second.”
“Then I’ll take my leave first.”

Ricshel bowed politely and left the room.
And Lion saw it.
Ricshel’s lips were quirked up about three inches wide.

‘Wow, is he really going through adolescence?’

Lion had thought he’d completely figured out Ricshel’s personality, but now he felt that distance opening up again, just a bit.
Teenagers—honestly, they’re something else.

* * *

Fortunately, Ricshel’s confession was postponed for a while.
It was because Grandfather’s business trip was taking longer than expected.
And Lion’s confinement now had only two days left.
Which meant Hoffmann’s second examination day—the one where he’d bring the “toy”—was finally arriving!
Lion entered the guest room, which was still functioning as a makeshift Magic Tower.
There he found…….

“Hehhhhh.”

Hoffmann was sitting there with a strangely dejected look, his expression one of utter despair.

“Has something unfortunate happened, sir?”
“Well, the thing is…….”

Hoffmann sighed once more, then opened his mouth.

“To fulfill your request, I had one of my disciples visit that magic shop. He’s an Academy graduate, so he knew the place well enough.”
“I see.”
“But…… it wasn’t there.”
“What?”
“The shop itself was completely empty. Not just the goods—the shopkeeper vanished too.”

So a well-run magic shop was simply spirited away?

“That’s why I dug around trying to leave him a personal request, but all I found was… that he headed east. Nothing else.”
“East?”
“Yes. The lawless territory where the Underworld’s power runs strongest.”
“Hmm.”

Something about this stinks.
The Underworld, of all places.

‘Is this Jack’s doing?’

Perhaps he was taking petty revenge for the blow I’d dealt him.
Lion simply nodded without revealing what he knew.

“I’m sorry. I said I’d help with anything, yet I can’t manage even this.”
“Not at all, sir. Please don’t concern yourself. I believe what you’ve already done for me is more than enough.”
“Good of you to say so. I’m grateful. If that fellow ever surfaces into the light again, I’ll make sure to get it for you somehow. But as compensation, I’ve brought you this.”

Hoffmann produced a bottle crafted from delicate glasswork.
Inside it, a liquid of many colors swirled.

“It’s mere decoration for me, but I’m certain it will be useful to you.”
“This is…!”

Lion’s eyes widened as he recognized what lay within.

‘Flowing Tears!’

A luxury item and high-tier material—only three were said to exist in the entire Empire!
And now one was sitting right in front of him.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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