Siblings Reincarnate as Enemies

Chapter 4 – In which Am is still Am

“Is that so?” Vermillian’s guest made an unconvincing expression. “The previous life genius doesn’t correspond to coming up with good excuses, huh?”

Vermillian’s lips twisted, but he didn’t refute.

It was true he never was good at coming up with excuses. Saf was always in charge of it and by his standards, she was a true expert. Though people whose possessions get destroyed didn’t seem to agree.

“Then if Young Master doesn’t mind, can you sit down and let me check on that miracle of yours?”

The man gestured for Vermillian to sit down on one of the chairs that fell to the floor before and which he now picked up.

Vermillian followed the suggestion and sat down, while the man carefully took his hand and started to check Vermillian’s mana flow condition.

The bit of a shaky smile that was on the man's face was gone, replaced by the expression of deep concentration and thought.

Gazing at that face, Vermillian recalled everything he knew about that man.

His name was Sangria, an unaffiliated young genius who, a few years ago, was chased down by magic guilds, who couldn’t accept someone like him who refused to bow to them.

He was heavily persecuted, almost thrown into prison and executed, but was saved by the late Archmage, Belleder, who offered him a sanctuary.

But before Sangria could spread his wings anew and became powerful enough to hold on his own, Belleder died and the position of her son, Crimo was crumbling day by day.

Sangria had to keep his head low again and that was when Crimo came to him asking for help in curing his younger brother, whose health was rapidly deteriorating.

Sangria readily agreed and spent the last three years trying to lift the curse.

All the magic devices which were keeping Vern’s body alive and his pain at bay were created by Sangria.

Vermillian, who remembered the disastrous state he left most of those devices, mumbled:

“Sorry for destroying your things.”

“It’s fine, as long as it was helpful to Young Master.”

Sangria quietly answered, still carefully examining Vern’s state. Looking at his fogged gaze, it was obvious his mind was somewhere else, and he wasn’t paying much attention.

After some time, his eyes snapped into focus as he ended the examination and looked up at Vermillian.

“Young Master Vern had to indeed be a genius in his previous life, a curse that I was trying to solve for the last three years is gone overnight.”

Young Master Vern… Yes, Vermillian will have to act as Vern from now on.

At least until he finds his siblings, he will be Vern.

Sangria, who was observing him carefully with shining eyes, asked:

“Then what Young Master is planning to do now?”

What is he planning to do now?

He was planning a lot.

There were still a lot of problems to solve.

But…

“First I plan to ask master Sangria to go report about my recovery and then ask for a new task for Master Sangria.”

He had to get rid of Sangria first. Vern’s memories showed that Sangria was a kind person who truly tried to help him. In some ways, Sangria saved his life.

Because of it, Vern couldn’t let him get involved in what he was planning. It was too dangerous.

Sadly, the young genius didn’t have any plans to gracefully accept his consideration.

“I’ll gladly report to Lord Crimo about Young Master Vern’s recovery, but I cannot dare to ask for a new task when I didn’t finish my first one. I still don’t know what genius led Young Master to lift that curse and cannot tell if it was truly lifted. Is there not a chance that this curse will relapse? A full recovery can only be spoken about when there is a certainty the sickness won’t return. Until that moment, I have to stay by Young Master’s side to observe.”

Looking at the face of Sangria who spoke in such lengths, Vern almost sighed.

He could recognize this expression.

This was an expression of a mage who found something fascinating and will stick to it even at the cost of his life.

*-*-*

*Our Am’s curse vocabulary seems to have increased?*

*As expected, our Am is a genius even when dead!*

*... Isn’t he alive though?*

*He is, don’t hijack things.*

Amaranth, who finished morning god cursing, was quietly considering his next actions amidst nonsense in his head, when he sensed someone drawing closer.

Knock, knock.

Then he heard a quiet knocking at the door.

“Please come in.”

A door opened, and an attendant appeared.

He was already bowing, not daring to look directly at Amaranth.

“Your Excellency, this humble one is here to help you dress today.”

“Yes…”

Amaranth remembered his position and held back ‘thank you’ that danced at the end of his tongue.

Thankfully, the attendant couldn’t see him frowning, as he still didn’t dare to look at his face. He only prepared clothes and started to put them on Amaranth with great care.

When he kneeled down to put shoes on, Amaranth noticed a mark on the back of his neck.

A small black mark with a number underneath.

Usually it wouldn’t be noticeable, because the attendant’s hair was long and covering his neck.

Amaranth’s lips twisted.

Even the gods, who had sensed his mood, stayed quiet.

A few minutes passed and the attendant who finished his task stood up and bowed again.

“Shall His Excellency have breakfast now?”

“Yes…”

“Then allow this humble one to pass down His Excellency's plans.”

“Okay.”

The attendant bowed for the third time and then walked to the door and informed a different attendant who was waiting at the door:

“His Excellency, Saint Amara, wishes to eat breakfast.”

The other attendant nodded and quietly moved to prepare breakfast. The world went quiet again.

But not in Amaranth’s head.

*A name changed!*

*What?! Where did our boy’s name go?!*

*It was stolen!*

*You idiots! He reincarnated! Obviously his name changed.*

*It’s fine, whatever it’s Amaranth or Amara, he still is Am!*

*The greatest Am! Immortal Am!*

He decided to change the subject, before the gods started to chant his name mixed up with nonsense and he wouldn’t be able to stop them.

‘Actually, what happened to that boy Amara?’

*What happened to Amara?*

*Are there more Amara?*

*What do you mean more? That’s impossible. Universe will collapse if there is more of our boy.*

*Then what happened to the boy Amara?*

*WHAT AMARA?*

*There is only ONE Amara! Stop shouting!*

*You’re the only one shouting…?*

After about a minute, one voice finally said:

*Nothing happened to Amara. Amara is you, just like Amaranth is you. The memories you have, the ‘previous Amara’, is just part of your soul fragment that was in this body, before your soul was pieced together again.*

‘Pieced together? Does it mean my soul was shattered..? Was my siblings' souls also shattered?’

His stomach turned cold at that thought.

But the gods didn’t answer and stayed eerily quiet. Only in some far away corner one voice was quietly mumbling:

*Immortal Amara, Beautiful Amara, Smart Amara, Kind Amara…*

Gods’ interference into the world was limited. Though they could easily talk to Amara, they couldn’t inform him about things that he himself couldn’t expect and have no knowledge of.

For example, if Amara didn’t have a suspicion that a war may break out and didn’t have some evidence to deduce it, gods couldn’t inform him about it.

There was one more limit to their interference and that was informing Amara about anything related directly to him and his fate.

Therefore gods couldn’t inform Amara about the traitors to whose blade he and his siblings died.

They could only throw small hints.

‘Shattered soul…’

He tried to gain some insight into his soul, but that was futile.

Unless he risked separating his soul from a body and examining it that way, he wouldn’t be able to tell if he is ‘whole’ again or are they still parts of him that are missing.

But it was too risky.

If his soul still wasn’t whole and stable, this attempt would effectively shatter it, leading to his death.

And he wasn’t in a place safe enough to leave himself vulnerable like that in the first place.

“Your Excellency, breakfast was prepared.”

Row of unnamed attendants bowed to him as he stood up and crossed the corridor heading towards the dining hall.

An already complicated situation became even more complicated.