A month had passed.
It was still cold, but the snow had begun to melt and patches of ground were showing through again.
--- Morning.
I slipped out of bed without waking
Sylphie liked sleeping with her head on my arm, so I had to be careful when extracting it.
In the adjoining room, I changed into my training gear.
The track-suit-style outfit with the stripe down the side was one Sylphie had picked out.
It was a bit cold for winter, but once you started moving it warmed up just right.
When I finished changing, I picked up the stone sword resting in the corner of the room.
This ungainly stone sword had been created through my magic.
It had no blade, but it was heavy — perfect for use with my powered prosthetic arm.
I should give it a name, like I would a real sword.
Something like Marlin or Swordfish.
Come to think of it, I hadn't had any sashimi since coming to this world.
Maybe there was no culture of eating raw fish here.
Once I was ready, I said goodbye to Sylphie, still asleep.
I gave her head a gentle stroke.
"Mmm-hmm…"
Sylphie smiled contentedly and nuzzled her head against my hand.
She was probably still half asleep.
Cute.
I happened to glance down and noticed her blanket had slipped off.
Her bottom, barely covered by her panties, was on display, so I gave that a pat too.
For someone who'd given birth, it was a surprisingly small backside.
While musing on that, I pulled the blanket back over her.
We'd recently resumed our nighttime activities, but I was being careful not to go too hard — it would be tough for Sylphie if a second child came too soon.
Still, when it happened, it happened. That was just the way of nature.
"Mmm… come back safe…"
As I left the room, I heard those sleepy words.
I'm heading out.
--- My destination was
Lately, I'd been training with her every morning.
When Norn was staying at home, we trained in the garden. When she was at the dormitory, I'd go to the school courtyard.
Today was a home day.
"Norn, you ready?"
I knocked and opened the door.
"Oh, broth—"
"My apologies."
She was still changing, so I closed it quickly.
Norn's body was still that of a child.
I loved both youthful and mature figures alike, but I felt no excitement toward my own sister.
That was a relief, though also slightly unfortunate.
To be able to love without desire really was something special.
Yet the thought that someday this little sister would belong to someone else stirred up a faintly dark emotion within me.
So this was what fatherly feeling was like.
Not bad at all.
I was
It was my job to say in his place, "I won't let some no-good stranger have Norn."
"Honestly, at least wait for a response after knocking…"
While I was thinking all this, Norn emerged wearing her gym clothes and carrying a wooden sword.
Nothing remotely sexy about it — long sleeves, long pants, top and bottom.
The standard-issue gym uniform from the magic university.
I'd bought it from the university shop and made her wear it.
Glancing into her room, I saw Paul's sword displayed high up on the wall.
If this were the old world, a photograph would have been placed near the family altar, but there were no photographs in this world.
You might be able to find magic tools that captured images if you looked hard enough, but they weren't common.
So this was how the dead's belongings were displayed — a makeshift altar.
"Norn, mind if I come in for a moment?"
"Huh? Sure, but why?"
After getting permission, I stepped inside.
The scent of Norn — that particular morning bedroom smell — filled my nostrils.
Nearby was her bed, sheets crumpled.
If I dove in and took a whiff, I'd be enveloped in pure Norn.
I wouldn't do that, though.
I stood before Paul's sword and clasped my hands together.
"Dad. I'm going to practice swordsmanship with Norn again today.
Please watch over us, so she doesn't get seriously hurt."
With that, I bowed my head.
What would Paul say in response?
Something like, "You don't get strong without a few bruises"?
Or maybe, "Don't you dare let Norn get hurt"?
I noticed Norn had also clasped her hands together in the Millis style and was kneeling.
"Shall we go, then?"
"Yes. Please take care of me today too."
Today's practice with Norn began.
--- Stretching.
Running.
Sword swings.
When I said sword practice, so far it was all basic drills.
Over the past few months, I'd been having Norn do nothing but fundamentals.
Even calling it "basics," if she tried the same routine as me, she'd collapse.
So I'd started her at roughly one-fifth of my workload.
Norn was only ten, and her body wasn't developed yet.
Pushing too hard from the start would just break her.
While Norn did her sword swings in the garden, I finished my own strength training.
"Twenty-five… twenty-six…!"
It was monotonous work — the kind that bred resentment precisely because it was so simple — but Norn hadn't uttered a single complaint.
That made me genuinely happy.
"—Fifty!"
"Good. Well done."
"Hah… hah… thank you!"
After practice, Norn and I took a quick rinse in the washroom.
Norn often tripped during her runs, so she sometimes had cuts or bruises on her knees and such.
When that happened, I used healing magic on her.
Basically, I was casting a "boo-boo, go away" spell on my little sister's kneecaps.
Norn didn't seem comfortable being naked around me, so she kept her panties and a thin T-shirt on.
The awkwardness of adolescence, I supposed.
I kind of wished
I also kept my own underwear on out of consideration, and we rinsed off together.
That said, if I told her that some men got excited by a wet T-shirt clinging to skin, I wondered what expression she'd make.
I kind of wanted to find out, but I kept my mouth shut.
If she stopped bathing with me, I'd be lonely.
And it would be terrible if my little sister thought her big brother was a pervert.
"So today it's just running and sword swings again, huh?"
I'd been lost in thought, and when I came to, Norn's lips were jutting out in a pout.
"When are you going to teach me actual swordsmanship?"
"I am teaching you."
"Not just swings — forms, techniques, that kind of thing."
I'd been teaching Norn how to run and how to swing.
Running and swinging.
Methods for building endurance and muscle.
Without those two foundations, learning forms and techniques was meaningless.
That was what I believed.
"…Fair enough."
Over these past few months, had her body developed at all?
I looked Norn over.
A small body, still in the process of growing.
Compared to before she started training, there was probably a bit more muscle in her arms and legs.
It still couldn't be called well-built.
But I had a sense that she'd developed enough to avoid injury.
Maybe it was time to teach her the first real form.
"Alright then. Starting after school today — for real."
"…! Yes!"
Chatting like that, we left the washroom.
--- It was evening.
The location: the far edge of the
The third outdoor training ground — to put it plainly, a corner of the athletic field.
I was wearing my usual training clothes for ease of movement.
Before me stood Norn.
Dressed in the same gym uniform as me.
Wooden sword in hand, her face set in a look of pure seriousness.
Around us, scattered here and there, were figures.
Students in robes doing their own practice, or students simply taking a stroll.
And a few onlookers, watching with curiosity at the sight of someone in gym clothes at this hour.
There was no problem being seen.
"Norn. Starting today, we begin real swordsmanship training."
"Yes!"
Norn's reply was bright and eager.
Her face was full of anticipation.
She was practically overflowing with the desire to learn techniques.
It had only been a few months, but a life of nothing but basics must have been tough for her.
However, taking up a sword and fighting was not a game.
Basics were important. For everything.
"Before we begin, let me say this — I intend to be strict."
"Yes."
Norn nodded with a serious face.
"As we go on, you may come to hate me. You might think, 'Big brother is only this strict because he doesn't love me.' I intend to be that strict."
"Yes."
"Honestly, the thought of you hating me hurts.
But there's a saying — an amateur's swordplay is a recipe for injury.
If I taught you something half-baked and you died because of it, I wouldn't be able to face Dad in heaven."
Norn had no particular talent for the sword.
I knew what
She wasn't drastically below average either, but strength was relative.
In a fight, the stronger one wins and the weaker one loses.
And since losing could mean death, there was no room for "it's okay to lose."
For Norn to be able to beat most opponents, she'd need dedicated effort, grueling training, and some cleverness.
"Someday, there will come a day when it hurts, when nothing goes right, when someone more talented surpasses you — and you'll want to quit."
"…"
"I understand how that feels. If someone quits something, I won't blame them for it."
"…"
Norn's lips pressed into a flat line.
From her perspective, I must have seemed like some talent-blessed superman.
She was probably thinking, "What does someone like that know about struggle?"
It was true — this body of mine was brimming with talent.
But I had lost to many opponents.
I had nearly died.
I didn't want Norn to ever come close to dying, if I could help it.
"But whatever you do, never quit swordsmanship.
If you do, I will never teach you again, and I will never let you touch Dad's legacy sword."
"…"
"As long as you don't give up, I will never abandon you."
Was that a bit much?
Come to think of it, could I even keep those words myself?
Well, I'd given up on becoming strong through swordsmanship, but I still trained every day.
I wasn't being hypocritical.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes! I'm counting on you!"
Norn answered in a strong, lively voice.
Her cheeks flushed, she looked up at me with an expression brimming with determination.
When I was small, I must have looked like this to Paul.
If that was the case, then someday Norn too would leave my side and find another master.
Once she'd grown enough to legitimately call herself a beginner, maybe I should summon
I didn't know where she was, though.
There was a land in the west called the Holy Land of the Sword, and if word went out, perhaps even a Sword Saint would come.
"Very well. We'll start with running."
"Huh? We're not going to train with swords?"
"We are, of course. We'll run while carrying our swords. On the battlefield, you always have your sword in hand."
"…"
"Answer me!"
"Yes!"
Today's regimen: running.
Three foundational forms.
And free sparring with me.
My first priority was to teach Norn that swords were frightening.
That they were scary and painful.
I didn't mean "pain is the only teacher," but I felt the fear and pain had to be introduced from the start.
Norn might cry.
She might come to hate me in an instant.
But I had to harden my heart.
Just having fun wasn't enough for this kind of thing.
If it was only ever fun, when the time came, you'd freeze up and die.
"Alright, follow me!"
"Yes!"
With some hesitation, I set off running.
--- "Good — that's enough for today!"
"Th-thank you very much…"
In the blinding light of the setting sun, Norn was lying collapsed on the ground, breathing hard.
"Practice the forms I taught you today — in the morning, during lunch, whenever you have time, even when I'm not around."
"Y-yes."
The first day's training had gone reasonably well.
After the run, I taught her forms.
Then we moved on to actual sparring with wooden swords.
During that, I corrected her footwork, her posture, and so on.
In my previous life, if this had been kendo training, there would have been more variety.
But in this world, there were no rules — in a real brawl, experience was what mattered.
Paul had beaten me into the ground from an early age, after all.
Ghislaine had also emphasized sparring above all else.
So my approach wasn't wrong.
Still, Norn seemed to have real reservations about striking an opponent with a wooden sword.
So to break her of that hesitation, I first let her hit me freely.
I offered no defense — I simply dodged vital points and took the rest.
Norn grimaced at the impact transmitted through her hands, and I just kept striking a pose that said, "I can take a hit."
Because she'd been doing sword swings diligently for the past few months, her attacks carried a certain weight.
Which meant my body probably had a fair number of dark bruises by now.
After that came the scheduled free sparring.
As planned, I beat Norn thoroughly, and that concluded the day's training.
I held back, of course.
But even so, there were probably numerous bruises on her arms and legs by now.
Putting bruises on my cute little sister.
Was this really the right thing to do? Doubt crept in.
But Norn had kept her sword swinging at me until the very end.
She hadn't cried. She hadn't complained.
As long as the will was there, everything could be a net positive.
At least, that's what I wanted to believe.
"So, Norn. Does it hurt?"
"…Yes."
"Is it so painful you want to quit?"
"…No. I'd like to train again tomorrow."
"Good."
Honestly, I had no confidence in my teaching methods.
If magic was an academic discipline, swordsmanship was a sport.
There was probably no single correct answer.
But without persistence, nothing would improve.
"Come here. Let me use healing magic on you."
I had Norn sit down and healed her.
If there were any bruises in places I couldn't see, I'd have Sylphie treat them later.
Today she was supposed to come home anyway, so I could heal her in the bath.
Thinking that, I moved closer to Norn and reached for her jacket — and then I sensed something behind me.
"Hm?"
I turned around to find several male students standing there, watching us in the twilight.
How long had they been there?
Thinking back, they might have been there from the start.
I'd assumed they were just curious onlookers, but seeing them linger this long, maybe there was another reason.
Did they want something from me?
"Norn. Go change and wait for me. We'll head home together."
"Huh? Oh, sure. Understood."
I quickly healed Norn and sent her hurrying to the changing room.
Then I walked toward the group of men.
I'd thought it was just a few, but as I got closer, I realized the crowd numbered in the double digits.
Every last one of them had the face of someone who couldn't get a girl, and I felt an odd kinship.
I was already a family man with two wives, but I had no intention of looking down on these guys.
They were me from my past life.
As I approached, they shot me hostile glances.
When I stared straight back, several of them looked away.
What was going on?
"Can I help you?"
At that question, they exchanged uncertain glances.
Whispering among themselves about what to do, nudging each other forward.
Eventually, one of them stepped up.
He looked about eighteen.
Roughly my height, thin and sickly-looking.
Slightly mean eyes, with prominent cheekbones.
He had a mage-like vibe.
If he wore glasses, he wouldn't look unlike
Of course, Zanoba was overflowing with inexplicable confidence.
What this man radiated was insecurity.
He glared at me and spoke.
"Why are you bullying Norn-chan?"
"…Hm?"
Bullying.
I felt my brow furrow at the unpleasant word.
He flinched at my expression.
But he pressed on.
"Sure, Norn-chan is clumsy, and she messes up a lot.
Maybe those mistakes annoyed you.
But she's always trying her hardest.
There's no need to hurt her that badly, is there?"
Yeah, yeah — the others chimed in agreement.
"Besides, Norn-chan has never even held a sword before.
And yet you forced a sword on her and beat her up with it.
No matter how you look at it, that's going too far."
Yeah, yeah — the crowd grew louder.
"Hmm."
Taken at face value, they seemed to think I'd forced a sword into Norn's hands and used training as an excuse to take out my frustrations.
It was unfair, but honestly, it might have looked that way.
My teaching methods probably hadn't been the smoothest.
Anyway, I needed to clear up this misunderstanding.
"That's—"
"We know you're the strongest person in this school. But if you're going to be cruel to Norn-chan, we'll fight to protect her!"
The man at the front declared this with a voice full of resolve.
But this time, the chorus of "Yeah, yeah" was notably quiet.
In fact, I could even hear faint murmurs of "Well, I wouldn't actually fight…"
…Right.
Before clearing up the misunderstanding, there was something I needed to confirm first.
"In the first place — who exactly are you all?"
"What!?"
The man let out a squawk, turned to look behind him, and exchanged bewildered looks with his companions.
Turning back to me, he answered with a troubled expression.
"Who are we… what do you mean?"
"What is your relationship with my sister?"
"W-well, we've been watching Norn-chan since she was a first-year. She's always been trying so hard, and we've been cheering her on—"
The man stammered his answer.
Emboldened by his example, the others started talking over each other.
"I spotted her about six months ago—"
"We were in the same practical class, and she kept failing at fire magic—"
"I saw her getting scolded by the instructor during magic training, and she had tears in her eyes, and I just—"
Their words were clumsy and rambling.
But I understood.
They'd noticed Norn during classes and practicals.
They'd seen her challenge things, fail, tear up — and felt warmth in their hearts.
They'd helped her in small, unobtrusive ways.
In other words — it was a fan club.
Come to think of it, I vaguely remembered Sylphie mentioning something like this.
Well, Norn was cute, after all.
I understood the feeling.
I wouldn't mind them continuing to cheer for my sister, actually.
"I see. Thank you for explaining.
My sister is always in your care.
I'm
"W-wait, what!?"
When I bowed deeply, they let out a collective murmur of surprise.
They were Norn's followers.
Some of them, one wrong step away, could have turned into thugs or stalkers.
But the vast majority were people with genuinely pure intentions.
As her brother, I owed them some respect.
That said, respect was one thing.
I still had to clear up the misunderstanding.
"About the swordsmanship training earlier — it may have been harsh.
But while I might cut corners with other things, swordsmanship is a matter of life and death—"
I began to explain.
That Norn was the one who'd asked to start training.
That I believed half-hearted preparation was dangerous.
That Norn needed to work harder than anyone else.
At first they were confused, but as they listened, they came to understand.
"There was no need to hit Norn-chan that hard…" some of them still grumbled.
Of course, I didn't think my way was the only right way.
As long as they understood I wasn't acting out of personal cruelty, that was enough.
As I continued my explanation, the fan club members' expressions grew solemn.
They seemed to accept it — "So that's how it is."
They were still young, but in this world they were adults.
They apparently understood the harshness of real combat.
"Big brother, what happened?"
Norn had returned.
She was wearing her usual blazer, with a poncho-like cold-weather garment draped over it.
"Oh — it's Norn-chan!"
"Norn-chan! You're so cute today too!"
"Good work, Norn-chan!"
The moment Norn appeared, the fan club members instantly became creepy.
But I couldn't exactly fault the sentiment.
Norn in a poncho over her blazer was adorable.
There was no denying that.
She was the kind of cute that made you want to give her a leaf to hold like an umbrella.
"Oh — seniors — g-good work, everyone."
Norn flinched, then bowed her head.
But she didn't let them get too close.
She could sense the weird atmosphere after all.
"B-big brother, I forgot something in my room. I'm going to go get it — please wait at the school gate."
With that, as if it had just occurred to her, Norn turned and ran toward the dormitory.
Halfway there, she tripped and went sprawling.
"Ugh…"
Norn picked herself up slowly.
Then she glanced back at me.
For an instant, I saw something flash in her eyes.
Honestly, this girl.
Running on exhausted legs — of course she'd stumble.
When we got home, I'd have to give her a proper massage so the muscle pain wouldn't be too bad tomorrow.
I'd let her soak in the bath and really work the fatigue out.
"…Ah, Norn-chan is so cute…"
"She's running so hard, you can almost see up her skirt…"
"I was skeptical about the uniform at first, but that outfit really works…"
"Though she's kinda slow at running."
"Yeah — if a kidnapper targeted her, she'd never get away…"
"If Norn-chan ended up as a slave, I'd buy her in a heartbeat…"
"A life alone with Norn-chan… heh heh… heh heh…"
Mm.
Yeah, if Norn ever ended up enslaved, I'd absolutely buy her.
And I'd feed her a full, proper meal.
Stuff her until she was full, and then — that panicked, helpless look she'd get when I tried to force her to finish every last bite— Snap.
No, no. That wasn't what this was about.
Norn was my little sister.
Nobody was going to enslave her.
If someone took Norn, I'd tear the earth apart to find her, and I'd beat the ever-loving hell out of whoever took her.
If she'd been enslaved, I'd track down whoever bought her and make them suffer.
"Ahem!"
"Ha!"
A sharp cough brought the fan club members back from their little fantasy reveries.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't look at my little sister with those kinds of eyes."
"S-sorry."
"Well, Norn is cute, so I suppose some daydreaming from a distance is fine."
"R-really?"
A wave of relief swept through the group.
"But if anyone actually lays a hand on her, there will be consequences."
"Ghk!"
I made sure to drop that in.
There didn't seem to be anyone here inclined to pull a stunt, and anyway, these kinds of groups generally operated on a strict "no cutting in line" policy.
But you never knew what people might do when desperation set in.
Someone could snap and lunge at Norn without warning.
"Oh, by the way — what are the club's rules?"
"Huh? Club? Rules?"
"Yes. What level of contact with Norn is permitted under your fan club's regulations?"
This was important.
Contact with idols was generally off-limits, though in some groups a handshake was considered acceptable.
And in those cases, there'd probably be some creep who stuck something weird on his palm — gum, a sea urchin, who knew.
I wanted to add a rule: "Wash your hands thoroughly before any handshake event."
But— "Fan club?"
"Hm?"
Something felt off in our conversation.
Their response to "fan club" and "rules" was lukewarm.
If this was a legitimate fan club, it should have had clear bylaws.
They were members — shouldn't they know?
"Wait a moment. Who's running this group?"
"Running it…? Well, there's nobody like that…"
"…What do you mean? Explain."
I pressed for details.
What emerged was a strange revelation.
Apparently, this circle hadn't been started by anyone in particular.
It was a group that had simply coalesced around Norn's cuteness, forming naturally.
Within the group, they didn't even know each other's names.
"I see."
This was extremely dangerous.
An unspecified number of people who found Norn cute had banded together.
When humans formed mobs, they were capable of things none of them would do alone.
For example, kidnapping cute Norn and dragging her off to their rooms.
While making excuses like, "It's Norn-chan's fault for being so cute."
Unbelievable!
"If this continues, a crime will happen."
"A crime — come on, we're just…"
"I'm certain of it. Someone will lose control and make a move on Norn."
When I said this, they broke into panicked chatter.
"That's absurd!"
"We would never lay a hand on Norn-chan!"
"Well, sure, we like Norn-chan, but it's more like a little sister kind of feeling…"
What the hell was this guy saying.
Norn was MY little sister.
…No, never mind that for now.
"I think you need to establish rules."
To prevent group crimes, discipline was necessary.
Set rules and have everyone police each other.
People tended to follow rules when they existed.
Like wearing matching uniforms and scarves to wait outside someone's house.
Rules were things forged by history.
They were created over long periods, as needed.
This fan club was too young — the rules hadn't formed yet.
But the absence of rules was dangerous.
Norn was in danger.
I had to establish rules now, before anything happened.
After the fact would be too late.
At minimum, someone had to take the lead at the start.
The question was: who?
The founder or leader would be the natural choice.
But this group had no leader.
The person standing at the front was probably the strongest-seeming of the bunch.
Should I hand him the role of leader and let him set the rules?
…No.
Giving leadership to someone without self-awareness would lead nowhere good.
Who in this group had the most self-awareness?
Who among them had the strongest sense that Norn should be protected?
The answer was obvious.
"Right."
It was me.
Norn was my sister.
In other words— I would be the rules.
--- Dragon God Era, Year 425.
At the Ranoa Magic University, a certain organization was established.
The Norn Greyrat Official Fan Club.
This group, numbering thirty strong, would go on to have a significant influence on the magic university.
The name of the first president was never revealed.
According to one account, the first president violated his own rules by bathing with Norn and was stripped of his position within three days.
His name was branded a disgrace to the organization and permanently erased from the records.
However, the first president's existence was not without merit.
His legend brought the fan club its "Iron Code."
A strict, unbending set of rules.
Many members, put off by the rigid code, left the fan club.
But in the end, the club's cohesion only grew stronger.
Their steel-like unity became the talk of even the Ranoa Kingdom's knight order.
Rumors bred more rumors.
Before long, the fan club's officers were known as disciplined, well-mannered individuals.
After graduation, many of them were welcomed with generous offers by knight orders and magic guilds across the surrounding nations.
Campus Rumors — Part 3 "The moment the boss gives the word, about thirty people show up in no time."