The Heavenly Hero Returns

Chapter 3: The Departure

The morning of your departure was cold, the sky overcast in muted gray. It matched the atmosphere in the estate perfectly.

Your mother fussed over you, dabbing a handkerchief at nonexistent dust on your uniform. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her worry barely contained beneath the forced smile on her face.

"You're not fully recovered," she murmured, voice trembling. "You should stay another season. There's no rush—"

"There is a rush," your father interrupted, standing by the carriage with his arms crossed. "She's already been admitted. She goes now."

You remained silent, only adjusting the sword at your hip. It still felt wrong. The weight, the balance—everything about it was foreign to your hands.

Your mother hesitated, looking between you and your father. "At least let her take a lighter weapon—"

"Enough." His tone was final. He didn't even look at her.

Your mother clenched her hands into fists, but she said nothing more.

Tobias was already seated in the carriage, watching with disinterest. He had been ready for over an hour, making sure to remind you that you were the one delaying the trip.

You let out a slow breath. Just a few more steps, and you'd be gone from this place.

Then, the sword shifted awkwardly again, pressing into your hip. The irritation flared.

"This sword is a joke," you muttered, rolling your shoulder. "More like a lump of iron than a weapon."

The moment the words left your mouth, you knew it was a mistake.

A sharp crack echoed through the courtyard.

Your head snapped to the side, the sting spreading across your cheek. The force wasn't enough to truly hurt—it was nothing compared to what you'd endured before. But the slap itself wasn't what mattered.

It was the fact that you let it land.

You had seen it coming the second your father moved. Instead of dodging, you had turned your face just slightly—just enough to control how it landed, enough to absorb the impact without snapping your neck.

It was an instinct from another time, another battlefield.

You straightened slowly, exhaling through your nose.

And then you met his gaze.

Your father flinched.

It was a minuscule reaction, but you caught it. His back straightened, his shoulders locked, as if bracing against something unseen. Next to him, your mother's breath hitched sharply. Her face had gone pale, her hands gripping her skirts as though she were fighting the urge to step between you.

For a brief second, it was as if they weren't looking at their daughter at all.

But then it was gone.

Your father scowled, recovering just as quickly. "Get in the carriage."

You said nothing, only turning on your heel and stepping into the waiting transport.

Tobias barely glanced at you as you sat down, only smirking. "Finally done crying?"

You didn't respond. The carriage lurched forward, the estate shrinking behind you as you set off for Arcadia.

You let out a slow breath, fingers brushing against the hilt of your sword.

Soon, you'd have a weapon that actually suited you.

And soon, you'd make sure no one laid a hand on you again.

Chapter 3.5: A Brother's Oath

The rhythmic sway of the carriage and the dull clatter of wheels against the road should have been a reprieve from the morning's tension. Yet, the silence inside was thick, pressing against you like an unspoken weight.

You kept your eyes on the landscape outside, watching the trees blur past. Tobias had been quiet since the slap. No mocking jabs, no passive-aggressive comments. Just… stillness.

That was, until he moved.

Without warning, he reached across the space between you and pulled you into a tight embrace.

Your reflexes nearly took over—your muscles tensed, one hand twitching toward a strike. Your mind screamed ambush, body coiling as if expecting an attack. But before you could react, you caught yourself, fingers barely brushing his arm before you stopped.

Your arms were now pinned awkwardly between your bodies, tight against his chest. The warmth of it, the weight, was completely foreign to you.

What in the hells…?

Tobias sighed, resting his chin lightly on the top of your head. His grip was firm but not crushing, as if he expected you to vanish if he let go too soon.

Then, he spoke.

"I'm still the heir. That hasn't changed," he murmured, voice quieter than you'd ever heard it. "I won't abandon you."

Your brain stalled.

What?

Before you could even begin to process the words, he continued. "I'll marry a respectable noblewoman, someone strong enough to keep Father in check. Once I inherit, he won't be able to touch you anymore." His arms tightened slightly. "I won't let him throw you away."

You blinked, completely at a loss.

This was the same brother who had mocked you for forgetting things, the same brother who never lifted a finger to help when your father pressed you into training. The same brother who had watched you struggle, never once offering anything but sneers.

And yet, here he was, holding you like he was afraid you'd break.

You swallowed, trying to piece together a response.

"Why?"

It was the only thing you could manage.

Tobias let out a dry laugh. "You really did forget everything, huh?" He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable. "I was never going to let him throw you out. You're still my little sister, even if you've turned into a forgetful brat."

His hand reached up to ruffle your hair, and this time, your reflexes did kick in—you smacked his hand away without thinking.

Tobias chuckled, but the amusement in his eyes softened into something else. Something gentler.

"You're not alone, Jess," he said, the sincerity in his voice almost startling. "So stop acting like you are."

You stared at him, your thoughts still scrambling for some kind of foothold.

Your brother was a jerk. He was arrogant, dismissive, condescending.

But maybe… just maybe… that wasn't all there was to him.

Before you could say anything, the carriage suddenly jolted.

The horses outside whinnied in panic, the vehicle lurching violently to one side.

Tobias cursed, shoving you back onto the seat as the driver shouted from the front.

"Monsters!"

The carriage rocked again, this time hard enough to tilt one of the wheels off the road. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as something massive slammed against the side.

Your grip on the seat tightened.

So much for a peaceful ride.