"You’re truly incredible, Brother. I can't believe you can fight that well with an old-model armor-type magic item. Especially since weapon-types have so much more output and a wider range of abilities."
"It’s only because you tuned it so well, Fee. Besides, I think throwing punches and kicks just suits me better than swinging a sword."
"Suits you? You chose it for a reason like that...?"
Fee smiled wryly at his brother's response. He thought back to how Hugo hadn't been discouraged at all after losing Galandil, the weapon he’d used for so long. Instead, he seemed more vibrant and full of life than ever. Seeing that, Fee decided to leave it at that and said no more.
It had been several days since the battle against the Magic Armor Beasts on the Marmint Highway, and Hugo had been showing remarkable progress in more ways than one. Fee’s feelings for his brother hadn't changed since the memory loss, but he could see why others might find the current Hugo more appealing.
Before his defeat at the hands of a classmate named Zenon, Hugo certainly had a rougher side. There had been rumors of him skipping training and relying solely on Galandil's raw power—something Fee had worried about himself.
But watching his brother now, it was impossible to believe he had ever been lazy. He had taken down a Magic Armor Beast with the Blaster—an outdated magic item—and displayed flawless magic power manipulation with his Distant Strike technique. He was the picture of a seasoned warrior, tempered in both mind and body.
As for his personality, Fee felt that his brother had always been this way deep down, so it wasn't a total surprise to him.
(Maybe he was hiding his strength all along. Maybe he even lost that duel on purpose...)
Perhaps Hugo had simply been fed up with the burden of being the heir to a prestigious, troublesome family. He was a man surrounded by enemies, both within his house and without. Fee imagined his brother might have grown exhausted living that kind of life.
Even after being disowned, Hugo hadn't seemed particularly tragic. He’d complained about being hungry, sure, but in hindsight, that was a trivial concern compared to losing his birthright.
Perhaps, deep down, he just wanted to be free. Maybe his violent outbursts had been nothing more than the frustration of being shackled by his lineage manifesting outwardly.
Now that he was free from those obligations and his memories were gone, Hugo had finally reclaimed his true self. Fee even wondered if the "profligate son" act had been a calculated move to get his parents to cast him out.
While that would contradict Hugo’s promise to make Fee his right hand once he took over the family, Fee didn't mind. His brother was finally enjoying his life and achieving great things. As a younger brother, that was all he could ever want.
Fee’s quiet hope that his brother would continue to be recognized as a hero was interrupted by a shadow falling over their table.
"Hugo... sorry, do you have a minute?"
"Oh, Melt. You look a bit pale. Is something wrong?"
"Yeah... I’ve got something weighing on me. You’re involved too, so I wanted to talk to you about it while I could."
"Me? Involved in what?"
Hugo was genuinely worried to see Melt—his only real friend—looking so downcast. But before she could explain, a voice cut through the air.
"Found you, Melt Epee! And you're with Hugo Clay. Perfect timing!"
"Huh? What now?"
Hugo looked past Melt toward the sound of stomping feet. A group of nearly a dozen students was marching their way. A blonde boy at the front looked particularly livid. Hugo sighed inwardly; he knew another headache was coming his way.
As expected, the student shoved past Melt and slammed his hands onto the table. His eyes were burning with rage as he shouted.
"Hugo Clay! Release Melt this instant!"