Chapter 19 : Brother

Chapter 19: Brother

The sun shines above, peeking through the rain clouds in Prismara as a horse-drawn carriage clatters through the busy thoroughfare. Inside, Conrad absently watched the passing scenery as a smiling face of Clara surfaced into his mind.

"I am late. Clara will definitely yell at me," he mused, his lips curled into a genuine smile. "Many people tend to avoid her because of her fierce attitude, but I like my sister that way. Honestly, she is a very good girl. She thinks of others before anyone; that is one reason she gets those mood swings."

His expression softened as he continued his internal monologue. I am really becoming more protective of my precious sisters. But what can I do? Even if I am not really their brother, I just really love them. They are my only family in this world. I want their sufferings to end. This bastard Conrad definitely didn't deserve such lovely sisters. I will take care of them.

Conard Sighed a little. At this point, people might mistake me for some siscon.

The periodic clip-clop of hooves suddenly ceased as the carriage drew to a stop.

"Sir, there is a huge crowd blocking the street ahead. Should I wait?" The carriage driver's old face full of concern appeared at the window..

Conrad leaned forward, his deep blue eyes narrowing at the mass of people ahead. "Crowd? Is there any festival or something?"

"No sir," the driver shook his head grimly. "This area is controlled by local gangs. Fights often break out here, especially near sunset."

"I see." Conrad reached into his pocket, producing five silver sili coins. "Here, take this. I will be getting off here."

"Thank you, good sir. Be careful."

As Conrad stepped onto the street, the crowd's murmuring grew louder. Through gaps between shoulders and heads, he caught glimpses of the Church school's front gate.

That's strange. Why would there be such a gathering here? An inexplicable unease settled in his chest, his combat-trained instincts tingled.

I hope Clara isn't there. These gang fights have a way of dragging in innocent bystanders.

Something pulled him forward – call it intuition, call it fate. He pushed through the crowd, apologizing quietly as he made his way forward. Then he saw her.

Clara.

His sister stood trembling, a bright red mark marking her previously porcelain cheek. Two other girls were with her, but Conrad's vision focused solely on his precious sister. His blood turned to ice, then blazing fire. In his previous life as a trained martial artist, he had mastered the art of controlling his killing intent. But now, seeing that mark on his sister's face, something primal broke loose.

"Clara?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried. Clara turned, her eyes widening as they met his blue ones. But these weren't the gentle blue eyes she knew – these were the eyes of a predator, calm as the eye of a storm.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she ran to him, burying her face in his chest. Her entire body shook with silent sobs.

Conrad gently patted her head, his touch contrasting sharply with the deadly focus in his gaze as he assessed the situation. The man responsible for hurting Clara stood nearby, his meaty hand wrapped around another girl's wrist – Nadeko, Conrad realized with surprise.

Nadeko's mouth opened on seeing a familiar face. "Yo—" She caught herself, reading the atmosphere. These weren't the eyes of the annoying classmate she knew from university. This was someone else, full of raze. A certain incident in university surfaced in her mind.

The difference between Essentarii and normal people was, those who could control Brahman possessed heightened senses, enhanced reflexes, and supernatural strength. But Conrad was something else entirely. In his previous life, he had been a trained fighter who had honed his body and mind through hard training. His combat instincts and reaction speed surpassed even the elite tier 0 Essentarii of this world.

The gang leader – a man with a scarred face – sneered at Conrad. "Hey, what are you staring at? Do you want that girl? You can have her. I don't want some wimpy all-talk girl, but make sure to bring her back to me after you're done." His gaze shifted lecherously to Nadeko. "And you…” He Smiled “I should enjoy you all afternoon today.”

The punch that followed was too fast for anyone to see. One moment the gang leader was leering; the next, he lay unconscious on the ground, blood trickling from his nose.

The crowd gasped collectively. Clara stared at her brother in amazement, seeing a side of him she'd never witnessed before.

Three more gang members emerged from the crowd, welding steel pipes. They moved to surround Conrad, their weapons glinting in the afternoon glow.

Conrad's face remained eerily serene, but his eyes promised violence. He didn't want to just win this fight – he wanted to send a message that would echo through every dark alley in Prismara.

The first attacker charged, the pipe raised high. Conrad's movement was fluid poetry – he redirected the pipe's momentum, wrenched it free, and delivered a precisely targeted kick to the attacker's calf. The crack of fracturing bone was followed by an agonizing horrified scream.

The remaining thugs hesitated, witnessing speed and precision they'd never encountered. Conrad's fighting style wasn't the flashy techniques of tournament fighters or the raw power of Brahman users. This was clinical, efficient violence, honed by real combat experience and modern knowledge only his previous world had developed through countless centuries.

They attacked together – one high, one low. Conrad moved like water, catching the high strike while checking the low kick. In a blur of motion, he slipped behind one attacker, applied precise pressure to the neck, and dropped him unconscious. The last man received a kick that shattered his ribs.

The street fell deathly quiet.

Conrad retrieved the original gang leader, dragging him back to consciousness with a rough shake. The man's eyes fluttered open.

"Ahhh... who... what..."

SLAP!

The sound cracked like a whip, drawing blood from the man's lip.

"Why are yo—"

SLAP!

"Hey I—"

SLAP!

"Let me e—"

SLAP!

Each slap was precisely targeted, maximizing pain while minimizing permanent damage. The crowd watched in horror as Conrad maintained his gentlemanly demeanor throughout the brutal punishment.

"Clara, come here." His voice was warm honey, completely at odds with his actions. He smiled as if inviting her to afternoon tea.

Clara approached, her fear replaced by something else – awe, perhaps, or the realization that she truly was safe with him.

"Conrad?" she asked softly.

"Do you fear this man?" Conrad gestured to the bloody-faced gang leader.

Clara studied the man with a bruised face, who now looked pathetically small. "No—"

"Slap him as hard as you can," Conrad interrupted, his smile unchanged.

Clara hesitated, then nodded. She understood this wasn't about violence – it was about conquering her fear. She swung her hand.

SLAP!

The man sprawled in the dust.

"Good. I don't want your hands to get dirty anymore. It’s already late but let's go have a good lunch, Clara."

"Okay, Conrad." A small smile graced her lips.

Conrad turned to address the crowd, his voice carrying to every corner of the street.

"This is my sister Clara. I know some of you cowards are still hiding. Remember this well – if you touch her, you won't simply die. You'll wish for death long before I grant it. Come directly to me if you want to test your luck. At least then, I'll make it quick."

Nadeko stood frozen, her worldview shifting. Maya stared at Conrad, her heart racing for entirely different reasons.

The busy streets around the church district buzzed with whispered retellings of the incident. The late afternoon sun painted everything in warm golden hues as the group made their way through the crowd.

"I told you we should first go to the museum before lunch," Nadeko complained, trying to restore normalcy to the situation. "Didn't you hear me before?"

Conrad sighed dramatically. "Clara, why is this bitch talking to me again?"

"How da—" Nadeko started.

"Conrad," Clara interrupted, squeezing his arm. "You shouldn't talk to a lady like that. Sister Nadeko is a good person. She always looked after me."

Behind them, Maya drifted in her own world of romantic fantasies. After I marry him, how would my relationship with Clara change? Ahhh, it's so complicated. I need to prepare— wait, I have rivals. I didn't know my sister and Clara's bro— no, Conrad studied at the same department.

"Ahem," Nadeko cleared her throat. "Don't you ever think I'll thank you, especially after what you did to my boyfriend at university."

"Wasn't that your fault?" Conrad's tone was deliberately casual.

"Mr. Valor, please refresh your memory. That was entirely your fault."

"Is that so?" He made a show of trying to remember.

Clara's giggle broke the tension. "I didn't know you were friends."

"We are not friends!" Both Conrad and Nadeko spoke in perfect unison, then glared at each other.

Clara hugged her brother's arm tighter, laughing freely.

I am so happy right now. I have never felt this happy in my entire life. I didn't know having a big brother could feel this wonderful.

"Hihihi," she giggled again.

Conrad's expression softened immediately. "Clara, do your cheeks still hurt?" Worry crept into his voice.

"Ohh Conrad, you've asked me five times already. It's not that big of a deal."

"Is that so..."

A subtle pinch at her side made Clara turn. Maya was giving her meaningful looks, practically bouncing with anticipation.

Come on, introduce me to your brother. Please, I beg you!

Clara felt a little bit possessive. After today's events, she had become acutely aware of how precious her relationship with her brother was. The thought of sharing his attention made her surprisingly uncomfortable. But Maya was her friend, and she couldn't ignore her plea, even if it conflicted with her newfound protective instincts.

"Conrad, this is my best friend Maya," she said finally. "You never met her. She is also the younger sister of Miss Nadeko."

"Ohh, hello Ms. Maya." Conrad's tone was perfectly courteous. "I apologize that you had to witness such an unpleasant situation."

"No tha—"

"Hey!" Nadeko cut in. "You didn't greet me that politely. Do you have a thing for younger girls, you pedophile?"

"Huh? You and your boyfriend don't deserve anything from me. So shut up."

Maya's internal cry of frustration went unvoiced. Why are you interfering with my conversation, sister?

As the sun began its slow descent, they arrived at their destination. The Aurelius National Museum in Prismara rose before them, its grandeur temporarily silencing their bickering.

The Aurelius National museum stands as a granular structure gracefully intertwined with minimalist design of modern artistic touch. Carrying many epochs of history with a whisper of air that reminds anyone who enters the place of histories varies grand events and milestones of humanity. Crimson bricks that covered the entire outside cast long shadows where people feel so small as if they were standing under something so granular that's beyond comprehension.

Polished wooden floor which creek softly with each footsteps guiding its visitors through the large Labyrinth of lavishly decorated hall. Ornate oil painting and glowing chandeliers can be seen as mere side decorations in front of tarnished timepieces and intricately inscribe invitations of some grand banquet of long forgotten royals.

Visitors often spoke of the museum's almost magical ability to create a mosaic of memories they never knew they could experience. Today was no different.

Conrad and his companions felt transported, as if a wizard had woven a spell to bring countless historical moments into the present. The weight of ages pressed gently against their consciousness.

"This is what we live for," Nadeko spoke softly, her usual antagonism forgotten in the face of such majesty.

"A history that shapes us, an origin that may never affect our future but defines our present. Truths that everyone has the right to know and study." Her eyes held a depth of passion Conrad had never witnessed before.

History... that shapes our present....

The words echoed in Conrad's mind as he gazed back at the museum's entrance, his thoughts turning to his own complex history and the present he was trying to shape.