The long, slender, fair shoulder and back lines gleamed like porcelain in the morning light, brilliant golden hair cascading like a waterfall down to the waist.
The person seemed to be wrapping some white fabric around their body—like bandages?
Hearing the door open, the owner of the back figure turned their head in astonishment.
Their eyes met.
Time seemed to freeze.
Abel’s brain went blank.
That face was indeed Julius’s, but at this moment, his brother without makeup had a startling, almost feminine softness in his features.
And what stunned Abel even more was—
Julius’s chest clearly had the curves that only a woman would have, now being wrapped and bound layer by layer with white bandages.
“…”
Abel abruptly stepped back, bang, slamming the door shut.
He leaned his back against the cold door panel, his heart pounding like a drum.
“I must have seen wrong… I definitely saw wrong…” he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes forcefully.
But that scene was already etched into his mind: the slender shoulder and back, the wrapping bandages, and that…
Abel suddenly realized that he had actually thought his big brother’s back figure “looked pretty good.”
This realization struck him like lightning.
“C-could the gay one actually be me?!”
Abel hugged his head, falling into deep self-doubt. “Is this also the dog planner… no, the little fairy’s scriptwriter’s hand at work?!”
He recalled those subtle hints in the game, those “brother CP” fan arts circulating among players, those ambiguously worded lines in the text…
“No, no, calm down, Abel, calm down…” He took a few deep breaths.
“Now’s not the time to think about this!”
Compared to his own sexual orientation crisis, Abel was more worried about another thing—
Was Julius injured?
Those bandages, were they for dressing wounds? Could it be an injury from yesterday at the divine disaster site?
And no one had told him?
Perhaps he was afraid I’d worry?
Various speculations churned in his mind.
At that moment, Julius’s voice came from inside the door, sounding as steady as usual:
“Abel? Come in.”
Abel took a deep breath and pushed the door open again.
This time, Julius was already fully dressed—white shirt, deep blue jacket, golden long hair neatly tied back without a strand out of place.
He stood by the window, his backlit figure tall and straight like a pine tree, showing no trace of the… abnormality from earlier.
As if everything just now had been Abel’s illusion.
“Sit.” Julius pointed to the sofa.
Abel sat down stiffly, his gaze involuntarily drifting to his brother’s chest.
It was covered tightly by the shirt and jacket, revealing no clues.
“Earlier…” Julius poured a cup of tea and handed it over, his tone casual.
“Did you see anything?”
Abel took the teacup, shaking his head like a rattle:
“No! I didn’t see anything!”
Julius stared at him for a few seconds, seeming to relax, and sat down opposite.
The room fell into a brief silence.
Abel sipped the tea in small mouthfuls, his mind still replaying the scene from earlier.
“I’m calling you here because there’s something important to say.”
Julius finally spoke.
He picked up a few newspapers from the table beside him and pushed them in front of Abel.
Abel looked down.
“Royal Capital Daily”: “Heretics Attack the Festival, Hero Knight Turns the Tide!”
“Church Bulletin”:
“The Goddess’s Blade Manifests, the Light of Chronos Protects the Faithful!”
“Kingdom Weekly”:
“Noct’s Second Son Displays Divine Might, One Punch Repels Demons to Protect the Capital!”
All the newspapers’ front-page headlines were reporting yesterday’s incident, with illustrations either of Abel’s back facing the flame giant or his silhouette holding Sutis.
The report contents were largely similar, all framing the event as a “heretic terrorist attack,” then lavishing praise on Abel’s heroism in large sections.
But a careful look revealed subtle differences—
The “Royal Capital Daily” emphasized Abel’s “sense of responsibility as a kingdom noble”;
The “Church Bulletin” called him the “knight chosen by the goddess”;
The “Kingdom Weekly” was the most straightforward, directly hinting that “such talent should be used for the country.”
“Half took the kingdom’s money, half are the church’s mouthpieces.”
Julius hit the nail on the head.
“They’re all trying to win you over.”
Abel wasn’t surprised.
He set down the newspaper, smiling bitterly: “I guessed as much.”
“So,” Julius leaned forward, his blue eyes staring straight at his younger brother.
“What exactly are you planning? The kingdom? Or the church?”
Abel was silent for a moment, then lifted his head, his gaze firm:
“I choose neither.”
“Oh?”
“Big Brother, I came back just to see you and everyone at home.”
Abel said seriously.
“Whether it’s the knight commander or a church knight, neither is the life I want. After paying respects to our parents, I’ll continue my travels.”
Julius looked at him quietly for a long time, then suddenly smiled.
That smile was very gentle, carrying the unique tolerance and warmth of an older brother.
“As expected of your answer.”
He said softly.
“In that case—”
Julius stood up, walked in front of Abel, and reached out to ruffle his hair:
“Then choose me.”
“Huh?”
“Use me as a shield.”
Julius smiled.
“Just say you listen to your brother’s arrangements for everything, and you’re not considering others for now. Whether it’s pressure from the kingdom or lobbying from the church, your brother can still handle it.”
Abel was stunned.
A warm current surged from the bottom of his heart.
This was his brother—always standing on his side, shielding him from wind and rain.
Those absurd guesses from yesterday instantly vanished like smoke.
What gay, what cross-dressing—it must have been his eyes playing tricks! Big Brother is such an upright and reliable person—how could he…
However, before this thought could fully form, Abel noticed the way Julius was looking at him.
That gaze was very warm, very kind, but deep inside, it seemed to hide something… overly fervent?
It didn’t seem like pure brotherly affection; instead, it was like…
Abel’s heart skipped a beat.
“B-Big Brother, is that all you wanted to say?”
He stammered a bit as he changed the topic.
“If there’s nothing else, I…”
“There’s one more thing.”
Julius withdrew his hand and turned to walk toward the window.
His back figure appeared somewhat lonely in the morning light.
“Abel,” Julius’s voice was very light.
“Do you know how Father and Mother died back then?”
Abel answered subconsciously: “Wasn’t it during their travels, attacked by thieves, so…”
“No.”
Julius interrupted him.
The sunlight outside the window was bright and dazzling, but Julius’s voice seemed to come from a very distant place:
“Twelve years ago, Enkart City experienced a disaster exactly like the one in the royal capital. The entire city, along with its eighty thousand residents, vanished overnight.”
Abel was stunned.
“Father and Mother weren’t killed by thieves.”
Julius turned around, his blue eyes filled with a bottomless pain that Abel had never seen before.
“They were victims of that disaster.”
“And I…”
His voice trembled slightly, and he took a deep breath:
“Was the sole survivor.”