The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

The corridors became busier the closer we moved toward the center of the estate. Servants hurried past carrying flowers, folded tablecloths, silver trays, and decorations whose purposes escaped me entirely.

Tomorrow’s Awakening ceremony apparently required enough preparation to invade a small country.

I watched two servants struggle to move an enormous vase.

"Why?"

Penelope followed my gaze.

"Why what?"

"Why does that need to move?"

"The Duchess wants white flowers near the eastern entrance."

I looked at the vase.

Then toward the eastern entrance.

Then back at the vase.

"It was perfectly happy where it was."

"The flowers?"

"The vase."

Penelope stared at me.

I shrugged.

"Nobody considers the furniture’s feelings."

"You spent too much time alone at the border."

"Possibly."

[Definitely.]

’Nobody asked you.’

We kept walking.

Eventually, I started recognizing more of the estate.

Not people.

Architecture.

Apparently I remembered walls better than relatives.

That probably said something unfortunate about me.

I chose not to investigate.

"We’re going the wrong way."

Penelope looked at me.

"The main hall is this way."

"My bedroom isn’t."

She stopped.

I continued walking for approximately three steps before realizing she wasn’t following.

I turned.

She folded her arms.

"You’re going to sleep."

It wasn’t a question.

"I’ve been traveling for days."

"You slept for days."

"Exactly. Travel is exhausting."

"For everyone except you."

"An important distinction."

Penelope stared at me for several seconds.

Then sighed.

"At least greet your family first."

"I greeted you."

"I am not your entire family."

"You’re currently doing an excellent job representing them."

"Alash."

"Fine."

I turned back toward the main hall.

Sacrifices.

Constant sacrifices.

This mortal life was truly unforgiving.

We rounded another corner.

Then Penelope suddenly slowed.

I nearly walked past her before noticing.

"What?"

She looked ahead.

I followed her gaze.

Two people were approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

A boy and a girl.

The boy looked around thirteen.

Blue hair.

Blue eyes.

Straight posture.

Expensive clothes.

An expression that suggested smiling had been removed from his daily schedule to make room for additional training.

There was something vaguely familiar about him.

Very vaguely.

Then I noticed his face.

The shape of his eyes.

The Vortex crest embroidered over his coat.

Ah.

My stepbrother.

Success.

I had identified a family member without assistance.

Personal growth.

Beside him walked a girl who looked around ten.

She had long midnight-black hair, so dark it almost seemed to absorb the light, tied behind her head with a silver ribbon. Her blue eyes stood out sharply against it.

Unlike the boy beside her, she seemed physically incapable of walking normally.

She moved slightly ahead.

Then behind.

Then beside him.

Then somehow turned around while still walking forward.

Energetic.

Dangerously energetic.

She wore a pale-blue dress appropriate for a noble girl, but one sleeve had been pushed slightly upward, and there was a faint stain near the bottom that suggested she had recently ignored someone’s instructions about where she was allowed to go.

Interesting.

She was speaking rapidly to my stepbrother.

"...and if Mother asks, you didn’t see me near the western garden."

"I did see you."

"But you don’t need to mention it."

"You climbed the wall."

"I was inspecting it."

"You fell."

"The inspection revealed structural concerns."

Penelope made a strange sound beside me.

I glanced at her.

She was suppressing a smile.

I looked back toward the pair.

The girl hadn’t noticed us yet.

My stepbrother had.

His steps stopped.

The girl nearly walked into him.

"What are you..."

Then she followed his gaze.

Her eyes landed on me.

She froze.

Interesting.

I leaned slightly toward Penelope.

"Is that his fiancée?"

Penelope slowly turned her head.

"What?"

"The girl."

I nodded toward them.

"Is she his fiancée?"

Penelope stared at me.

For some reason, her expression had become remarkably similar to the one she’d worn when I admitted I’d forgotten her Awakening.

Oh no.

I recognized this situation.

I was missing information again.

"Alash."

"Yes?"

"That’s your sister."

...

Silence.

My gaze moved toward the girl.

Then back toward Penelope.

Then toward the girl again.

She was ten.

Midnight-black hair.

Blue eyes.

Tomorrow was my sister’s Awakening Day.

...

Ah.

’System.’

[Yes?]

’You could have warned me.’

[I wanted to see how long it would take.]

Traitor.

I adjusted Dream Haven beneath my arm.

"Obviously I knew that."

Penelope’s expression remained completely flat.

"You asked if she was your brother’s fiancée."

"I was confirming."

"Confirming what?"

"Family relationships."

"By asking whether your sister was engaged to your brother?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds worse."

"There is no way to say it that makes it sound better."

Fair.

Unfortunately, the two people in front of us were now close enough that continuing the conversation became impossible.

My stepbrother approached first.

He looked considerably different from the child I remembered.

Which made sense.

In my memory, he had been around eight.

Small.

Usually standing close to his mother.

Sometimes watching me from across rooms.

We had rarely spoken.

Actually...

Had we ever properly spoken?

There must have been conversations.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Now there was nothing childish about the way he carried himself.

His shoulders were straight.

His movements controlled.

His eyes immediately evaluated me from head to toe.

Then they stopped on Dream Haven.

Of course.

The pillow.

Finally someone with proper priorities.

His expression, however, didn’t suggest admiration.

"Brother."

His voice was controlled.

Formal.

Almost too formal.

I nodded.

"Good to see you, Marcus."

Silence.

Penelope closed her eyes.

The girl beside him blinked.

My stepbrother’s expression didn’t change.

Not immediately.

Then one eyebrow moved.

Barely.

"Marco."

...

Close.

Very close.

Practically identical.

"Marco."

I corrected myself immediately.

He stared at me.

I stared back.

"That is what I said."

"No, it wasn’t."

"I corrected quickly."

"You called me Marcus."

"A minor pronunciation difference."

"They are different names."

"Debatable."

"They’re literally different names."

The girl beside him made a choking noise.

She covered her mouth.

Her shoulders started trembling.

Marco glanced at her.

"Don’t."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

She burst out laughing.

Not politely either.

What was wrong with the women in this estate?

First Penelope.

Now...

...

Right.

My sister.

My sister whose name...

My thoughts stopped.

Oh no.

No.

Surely not.

I knew her name.

Obviously.

I had lived in this estate for ten years.

She had been born while I was here.

There had undoubtedly been a naming ceremony.

I had probably attended it.

Maybe.

Actually...

There was a disturbing possibility that I had slept through it.

’System.’

[No.]

’I haven’t asked anything.’

[You are going to ask me for your sister’s name.]

’I was not.’

[Then what is her name?]

Silence.

[Host?]

’I’m thinking.’

[You have an Intelligence stat of 186.]

’Intelligence and memory are different things.’

[You remember the exact composition of a regeneration potion you learned two years ago.]

’Professionally relevant.’

[You remember which tent at the border had the softest spare blankets.]

’Extremely relevant.’

[You do not know your sister’s name.]

’I am working on it.’

The girl finally stopped laughing.

She wiped beneath one eye.

Then looked at me.

Her blue eyes were bright.

Curious.

Amused.

And far too observant.

"So."

She clasped her hands behind her back.

"Do you know who I am?"

Danger.

This family possessed too much intuition.

I smiled.

"Of course."

Her smile widened.

Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Penelope turned her face away.

Coward.

"What’s my name?"

...

There were moments in life when retreat was noble.

There were moments when retreat was intelligent.

There were moments when retreat was necessary for continued survival.

Unfortunately, there was nowhere to retreat.

The corridor stretched behind me.

Running would be noticeable.

And Penelope had previously demonstrated an alarming willingness to remember my mistakes.

I studied my sister carefully.

Perhaps her appearance would trigger something.

Midnight-black hair.

Blue eyes.

Small.

Energetic.

Smiling like someone who already knew she’d won.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"Your name..."

She waited.

Marco waited.

Penelope waited.

Even the System felt suspiciously attentive.

"...is a very respectable name."

Penelope made a sound beside me.

My sister’s smile became enormous.

"You don’t know."

"I didn’t say that."

"You don’t!"

"That conclusion is premature."

She turned toward Marco.

"He doesn’t know my name!"

Marco’s jaw tightened.

That was interesting.

He hadn’t reacted strongly when I’d gotten his name wrong.

But this bothered him.

"He has been gone for nearly five years," he said.

My sister looked back at him.

"I’ve had the same name the entire time."

Excellent argument.

Unfortunately.

I considered my options.

Then surrendered.

"...I forgot."

My sister stared at me.

For two seconds.

Three.

Then she placed both hands on her hips.

"You’re terrible."

[Accurate.]

’Nobody asked you.’

"I came home, didn’t I?"

"For my Awakening."

"Exactly."

"And you don’t know my name."

"I remembered the Awakening."

"Because Father ordered you to come."

Details.

Unnecessary details.

Penelope finally intervened.

"Elara."

I looked at her.

She subtly nodded toward the girl.

Elara.

Right.

Of course.

The name returned immediately once I heard it.

Mostly.

I turned back.

"Elara."

My sister narrowed her eyes.

"Penelope told you."

"No."

"She said my name out loud."

"Coincidence."

"You’re a terrible liar."

"I rarely need practice."

Elara looked at me for another second.

Then laughed again.

Interesting.

She didn’t seem angry.

At least not seriously.

That was good.

Marco, however, hadn’t relaxed.

His eyes remained on me.

Studying.

Measuring.

There was something there.

Not hatred.

Not exactly.

Tension.

I had seen similar looks among soldiers.

People trying to determine where they stood against someone else.

I shifted Dream Haven under my arm.

"So."

I looked at him.

"How have you been?"

His eyebrow rose.

Penelope looked at me.

"What?"

I frowned.

"Why does everyone react strangely when I ask normal questions?"

Elara answered immediately.

"Because you forgot his name."

"It was one letter."

"Several letters."

"Marcus and Marco are extremely close."

"No, they’re not."

"Thank you, Elara."

She looked delighted.

Apparently knowing her name had earned me approximately one point.

I needed many more.

Marco’s gaze moved toward Penelope briefly.

Then back to me.

"I’ve been well."

"Good."

Silence.

This was going excellently.

I searched for another normal sibling question.

Training?

Potential.

Ah.

I actually needed to ask that.

Before I forgot for another three years.

"What did you awaken?"

Marco’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

Penelope noticed.

Elara did too.

The atmosphere shifted.