The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

Penelope went completely still.

I immediately sensed danger.

Not physical danger.

Something worse.

Social danger.

Her eyes slowly moved toward me.

"What?"

"Your awakening."

She stared.

I continued, unaware of the cliff beneath my feet.

"What potential did you get?"

Silence.

Long silence.

Very long silence.

I frowned.

"Penelope?"

"...You don’t know?"

Something about the way she said it made my survival instincts activate.

"No?"

Her violet eyes widened.

"You genuinely don’t know?"

I thought about lying.

Then remembered I had absolutely no idea what answer I would be lying about.

"No."

Penelope simply stared at me.

I stared back.

A strange sequence of emotions crossed her face.

Shock.

Disbelief.

Confusion.

Then something I couldn’t identify.

Possibly horror.

"Why would I know?"

Her mouth opened.

Then closed.

"We’re engaged."

"Does that automatically provide awakening information?"

"No, but our families..."

She stopped.

I waited.

Her expression changed again.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Her eyes narrowed.

Oh.

That one I understood.

Anger.

Definitely anger.

’System.’

[Yes?]

’I believe I’ve made a mistake.’

[Likely.]

’Helpful.’

Penelope took one slow breath.

"Alash."

"Yes?"

"For the last three years..."

Her voice was extremely calm.

I had learned from Master Valerian that extremely calm voices were often the most dangerous ones.

"...you never once mentioned my potential."

"Apparently."

"I thought you knew."

"Ah."

That explained something.

Probably.

She stared at me.

"I thought you deliberately chose not to mention it."

Oh.

Oh no.

I could already see where this was going.

There were moments in life when intelligence became a curse.

Because intelligence allowed you to understand precisely how badly you’d made a mistake before the consequences arrived.

This was one of those moments.

Penelope continued.

"I thought you knew everyone else was already talking about it."

Her voice was quieter now.

"And that you didn’t want to make me feel worse."

I remained completely silent.

What could I possibly say?

Sorry, I was actually just negligent.

That seemed unwise.

"So every time you sent me a letter without mentioning it..."

She laughed.

Once.

There wasn’t much humor in it.

"...I thought you were being considerate."

I swallowed.

[You should apologize.]

’I know.’

[Immediately.]

’I know.’

Penelope looked directly at me.

"And you simply never asked?"

There were lies.

There were strategic retreats.

There were heroic sacrifices.

And then there was the truth.

"...I forgot."

Her eyes closed.

I took one small step backward.

"Penelope?"

"Give me a moment."

"Alright."

She remained perfectly still.

I considered taking another step.

[Do not run.]

’I wasn’t going to.’

[You considered it.]

’Briefly.’

Then something strange happened.

Penelope covered her face with one hand.

Her shoulders moved.

I froze.

Was she crying?

My stomach dropped.

Then I heard it.

Laughter.

She was laughing.

I stared.

Actually laughing.

Not politely.

Not quietly.

Completely.

I felt mildly offended.

"I don’t think this is funny."

That made her laugh harder.

Several servants below looked upward.

Penelope turned away from them, still covering her mouth.

I waited.

Eventually, she regained control.

Barely.

Her eyes were slightly wet when she looked at me again.

"You forgot."

"I already admitted that."

"For three years."

"I had many responsibilities."

"You forget your own stepbrother’s age."

"That seems unrelated."

"You didn’t even know his potential."

"How do you know that?"

"Your father mentioned it."

Traitor.

Everyone in my life was collaborating against me.

Penelope wiped beneath one eye.

Then sighed.

"I can’t believe you."

"Can we return to the original question?"

Her expression became quieter.

Right.

The potential.

Something changed in her eyes.

The humor remained.

But beneath it...

Uncertainty.

"B."

I blinked.

"Your potential?"

She nodded.

"B."

I waited.

She waited.

...

I frowned.

"Alright."

Her eyebrows lifted.

Silence again.

"What?"

"You said B."

"Yes."

"I heard you."

"And?"

"And what?"

She stared at me.

I genuinely didn’t understand.

"Does that bother you?"

"Why would it?"

The answer came before I even needed to think.

Penelope’s expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Her eyes softened.

"Because you’re SSS."

"So?"

"And I’m B."

"Yes. We’ve established both letters."

"Alash."

"What?"

She looked at me as though searching for something.

I let her.

I still didn’t understand the problem.

Potential affected growth speed.

Core advancement.

How quickly someone learned magical attributes.

Important things.

Very important, in fact.

But Penelope had been Penelope long before either of us awakened.

She was my first friend before I knew my title.

Before she knew her potential.

Before either of us understood what marriage meant.

Why would a letter appearing over an Orb suddenly change that?

I adjusted Dream Haven beneath my arm.

"B isn’t even bad."

Her face immediately changed.

I recognized the mistake.

"No."

I raised one hand.

"That came out wrong."

A tiny smile appeared.

"Very wrong."

"What I meant is..."

I paused.

Words.

Why were words always significantly more complicated than barriers?

I could calculate mana distribution across Mana Aegis during an attack.

But one conversation with Penelope somehow required greater concentration.

"I don’t care."

That also sounded wrong.

Her eyebrow rose.

"About me?"

"No."

I closed my eyes.

"That was worse."

She laughed softly.

I sighed.

"What I’m trying to say is that your potential doesn’t matter to me."

There.

Acceptable.

Probably.

I opened my eyes.

Penelope was looking at me.

"You’re still Penelope."

Her lips parted slightly.

"And?"

"And nothing."

I shrugged.

"You were my friend before either of us awakened."

Then I realized something.

"Actually, technically you became my fiancée before I awakened too."

"Technically."

"So changing how I treat you because an Orb displayed B would be strange."

Penelope said nothing.

I frowned.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason."

"That’s rarely true."

She smiled.

A real smile.

The same one she’d given me when we were children.

Except not quite.

Warmer somehow.

"Thank you."

I tilted my head.

"For forgetting?"

Her smile vanished.

"Don’t ruin it."

"Understood."

Silence returned.

This time...

Comfortable.

I looked toward the garden.

She did too.

Several seconds passed.

Then Penelope spoke.

"Twenty-three days."

I slowly turned toward her.

She was still looking straight ahead.

I narrowed my eyes.

"We had moved past that."

"No."

"Penelope."

"Potential doesn’t bother you."

"Correct."

"Poor correspondence bothers me."

"Apparently."

She finally looked at me.

"Your next reply will take less than twenty-three days."

I considered reminding her I was currently standing beside her and therefore letters weren’t immediately necessary.

Her expression told me this was probably not the moment.

"Fine."

"Seven."

"What?"

"Seven days."

"That’s unreasonable."

"Five."

"You reduced it."

"Three."

"Seven is excellent."

She smiled.

"Wonderful."

I stared at her.

Something important had happened.

I was not entirely sure what.

But somehow...

I felt like I’d lost.

[You did.]

’Quiet.’

Penelope began walking again.

I followed.

My first day home had lasted less than an hour.

I hadn’t seen Father.

I hadn’t met my sister again.

I still didn’t know what my stepbrother had awakened.

And I had already discovered my fiancée had spent three years believing my negligence was emotional sensitivity.

I hugged Dream Haven slightly tighter.

Home really was complicated.

Still...

I looked at Penelope walking beside me.

Maybe not entirely unpleasant.