The Red-Eyed Paladin of the First Order.
That was the title given to his eldest brother, Cyro Darius Agnus.
The First Order was a division of the Holy Paladin Order. To put it simply, the organization stood as a middle ground between the nobles and the government. Though not direct servants of the state, they often worked alongside it while remaining loyal to their noble houses.
However, the order wasn't composed solely of nobles; commoners stood among their ranks as well. The only things the order valued were one's loyalty, adherence to justice, and a genuine desire to do good.
There were six orders in total and the lower the number, the stronger its members were.
Even the Sixth Order couldn't be underestimated as the combined forces of them was enough to kill most kaijus.
At only twenty-five, the fact that Cyro had already become a vice-captain of the First Order and earned a title of his own spoke volumes about his strength.
Members of the First Order wasn't just revered for their strength. The fact that they were in the First Order alone made them somewhat celebrity-figures to people around the country.
There's a saying that if one paladin of the First Order was aiding you, you'd feel safe. If two to three paladins were there, you could sleep like a baby, but if an entire squad of five or more was there, you'd better start running. If the entire First Order was there, you're already dead from whatever danger awaits.
Like the rest of his siblings, except for the youngest, Rubi, Cyro had been away from the estate. His duties as a paladin rarely allowed him to visit, but this absence had been unusually long.
Bell wasn't sure of the exact reason. The order kept most of its missions secret, even from family, to avoid alarming the public while they worked on resolving the issues in the background, yet Bell had an inkling. As a reader of the novel, he knew what kind of danger would soon shake the world.
"Come on. Let's go see your older brother," Tiara said, grabbing his hand once he'd dressed.
As he followed her, Bell glanced down. There was no glove on his hand. He didn't like touching things barehanded — people, especially. Kids were the only exception to this distaste, and yet… with this mother of his, this woman who wasn't truly his mother, he didn't feel disgusted. He didn't feel the urge to pull away.
"He hasn't seen you in months. What if he gets a heart attack after seeing how much you've grown?" Tiara teased with a laugh.
She led him downstairs, where Cyro sat in the living room, deep in conversation with their grandfather.
But the moment Cyro caught sight of him, he stopped mid-sentence and turned.
His eldest brother stood tall at six foot two. His presence was similar to his father, commanding, yet… it was also gentle like their mother. He was the perfect blend between the two.
His long straight black hair that was longer than most girls' framed his face falling softly along his back and some strands in front of his face and even over his eyes.
His eyebrows were sharp and his eyes were the typical deep crimson Agnus red; they carried an intensity that could unsettle anyone who met them too long but the warmth on the rest of his face and his expression softened their edge.
There was something quietly magnetic about him.
He was the kind of beauty that drew people in despite the instinct to look away. He was the kind of beauty where little girls would have a crush on him and spend their later years searching for a partner who resembled him.
Even with that faintly frightening gaze, kindness lingered in every inch of his body.
Approaching his younger brother, whom he hadn't seen in months but kept up with through their mother's calls and letters, Cyro gave Bell a once-over.
Something was different about him.
It wasn't just the lack of joy on his face.
It wasn't just that he didn't rush forward to embrace him like before.
It wasn't even the physical changes that stood out.
No — something fundamental had changed.
But Cyro didn't ask. He already knew about the incident. Though disgusted when he first heard what Bell had done, the fact that his brother had locked himself away afterward suggested something deeper.
Why would the culprit punish himself if he were truly guilty?
It could've been a misunderstanding. Maybe someone slipped him a potion that caused him to lose control of himself. Perhaps it had been consentual and the girl lied. There were millions of explanations to explain his little brother's actions.
That was the hopeful delusion of a loving older brother.
Regardless of what changed though, Bell was still his little brother.
"How tall are you now?" Cyro asked.
"...About 5'9"."
"Already? Wow. You were just 5'7" the last time I saw you. Seems like your growth spurt's finally kicking in," he said while using using his hand to measure where the top of Bell's head would reach on his own body.
"...I guess so."
A brief silence. Then Cyro grinned. "Care to give your brother a hug?"
When Bell didn't move, Cyro didn't take offense. There was no awkwardness even though he was just rejected.
"Guess you're too old to show your brother some love now, huh? Hahaha. Here," he said, tossing something into the air.
Bell caught it easily, barely glancing up.
"What's this?" he asked, looking down at the bottle in his hand — a vial filled with golden liquid.
"That right there is a 9th-tier God elixir."
Bell's eyes widened slightly before returning to normal. He didn't need an explanation; as a reader, he already knew its worth but of course Cyro couldn't read his mind so he began explaining anyway.
"Once you drink that, the growth of your star energy should permanently increase by around one percent. Lucky ones can even get an entire two percent increase. It's only a 9th-tier making it the lowest but even that is worth more than god itself. Ironic considering the color of it. Even if we spent all the money our family has, sold all our properties, I doubt we could buy another one," he said.
It wasn't because it was worth more than they could afford.
It's just that those who owned it wouldn't sell it regardless of the price. They'd rather use it for themselves.
"This… is for me?" Bell asked.
"Of course. Why else would I toss it to you?" Cyro laughed.
"...What do you want from me?"
"Want? You hear that, Mom? Gramps?" He laughed again. "No, you idiot. I don't want anything. It's a gift."
Bell stared at the bottle for a moment longer.
In the stillness of his heart, usually as calm as an undisturbed pond, faint ripples began to stir.
Emotions long buried from his youth quietly surfaced.
Is this what it means to have a family?
"How did you get this?" he asked.
With a loud and bright grin, Cyro replied, "Who do you think your big brother is? I'm the youngest paladin of the First Order. And a vice-captain, no less. Aren't you proud of your eldest brother?"
With his chest puffed out, he was bragging but not in an egotistical manner; his tone made it seem even that he was joking about the prestigious yet heavy title and burden that was branded on him.
"I did the King a huge favor by capturing a certain rat that was about to harm him so as a reward, he allowed me to pick anything from his treasure room. And I picked that," he explained.
"And you chose this? You could've picked anything in the treasure room for yourself but you picked the elixir not even for yourself… but for me?"
A hand suddenly ruffled his hair.
Bell should've pushed it away instinctively, but he didn't. He stood there still as Cyro rubbed his hair as if he was a child.
"I'm your big brother," Cyro said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Isn't it natural for me to spoil you?"
The pearly teeth in his smile nearly blinded Bell.
"Right… a big brother," Bell muttered.
A few hours later.
There was much catching up to do among the family especially for little Rubi, who clung to Cyro's leg like a leech.
It wasn't that she loved him more than Bell; but ever since Bell's exit from his seclusion, he hadn't been the same brother who used to play house with her for hours.
Now, he was gentler, quieter — watching over her, teaching her words, making sure she didn't get hurt.
He had become more of a parent than a brother.
Cyro, meanwhile, was still the same as she last remembered him. He was the brother who could toss her into the air and make her laugh for hours which is what he was actively doing in the moment.
Bell wasn't jealous.
As he sat on the couch, watching his siblings play, he caught sight of his reflection in the window.
A small smile had appeared — faint, but genuine.
'Having a family like this… it isn't so bad.'
Then his thoughts drifted back to his past life on Earth.
Family.
The word lingered on his mind.
The smile faded, replaced by a slight frown. He stood up, excused himself, and said goodnight.
Alone in his room, he placed the elixir carefully into his school bag. Though tempted to drink it, he had a better use for it later.
His mind was scattered as he sat by the open window, wind brushing against his face.
"...Family," he murmured before closing it.
* * *
The next day.
"Bell! I can't! What if I lose it?!"
"If you lose it, then you'll have to pay me back."
"How would that even be possible?!" Sarakit exclaimed. She had dressed up for the first day of the semester, combed her hair until they were just as she wanted them to look, but one conversation with Bell had already frazzled her.
"I don't know. Just don't lose it."
Sarakit looked nervously at the elixir in her hand and gulped. Her hand was shaking but she forced them to be still.
What if she dropped it?!
"Sorry I'm late," Maya said as she entered the car. Seeing Sarakit's panicked face and Bell's usual calm expression, she blinked. "Did something happen?"
All three were dressed in the academy's black blazers, the emblem stitched neatly on the chest, white shirts underneath, and either red ties or bowties to complete the look. The colors suited Bell the most — as if tailored for him.
They would be commuting together each morning for convenience's sake. Bell preferred quiet rides spent reading, but he didn't mind their company since it gave him a chance to discuss business when needed.
Both girls were well aware of each other's purpose; nothing was hidden.
Sarakit knew Maya was Bell's follower, working in the shadows to gather intel and uproot corruption.
Maya knew Sarakit was the alchemist Bell sponsored, repaying the debt of her grandfather's cure, even though Bell insisted she didn't have to. She knew the creations she had made and was aware that the recent talk of the market, the Star Potion, was her creation.
They never said it aloud, but they both knew: they were on the same boat, just with different roles.
"What's that in your hand?" Maya asked, curiosity piqued.
"It's a 9th-tier God Elixir," Sarakit said, shaking her head over and over.
"...What?" Maya blinked.
"It's a 9th-tier—"
"I heard you the first time," Maya cut in. "I just meant — WHAT?!"