The Terminally-Ill Lord Desires Hospice Care

“Hey, open up this ungrateful wench.”
Rizehl, whose eyes were swollen from sobbing, was startled by the sudden gruff voice and began looking around.
“Outside the window, outside. Open up before I peck my way in.”
Hesitantly, Rizehl opened the window, and the raven ruffling its feathers as it entered immediately began pecking at her forehead.
“Ow!”
“That hurt? Your brother ended up far worse on the battlefield, yet you whine over that?”
“…Who cares about that selfish bastard! What does it matter if he went to war for his own glory! How is that any of my concern!”
As Rizehl spoke in an enraged tone, the raven let out a mocking laugh.
“Hah! Hah! Waamaa! Did I just hear a human speak? I thought it was just the sound of a puppy taking a shit.”
“What…?”
“‘Haah…yes, that wretch wouldn’t show gratitude to anyone, so let’s leave it at that. But erasing your brother from the household? Are you sane?'”
“Those were just words I spoke…no, what does it have to do with you, you damn bird brain…!”
“The women left around that fool are all either rude wenches, foul-mouths, or bitches…”
The ‘rude wench’ referred to Camilla, the ‘foul-mouth’ to her friend the Empress, and the ‘bitches’ to the many women around Raul.
“What do you know…!”
“Enough. I’m tired of talking…it’ll be quicker to just show you.”
As the raven flapped its wings, a pitch-black wind began enveloping Rizehl.

“Where is this…”
Rizehl awoke not in her room, but in a strange place resembling a training ground.
Around her were children who appeared around 10 years old, but judging from their reactions, they seemed unable to perceive Rizehl.
“An illusion spell…I’ve often heard of them.”
Among young nobles, some used illusion spells like a drug, but Rizehl abhorred such impure things, so this was her first experience being ensnared by one.
“Now then, young masters and ladies who were just moments ago cuddling dolls in the estate, pay attention.”
Towards that voice tinged with intoxication, Rizehl turned her head.
Unkempt azure hair, eyes glittering like azure flames, a liquor bottle constantly in hand, an appearance unsuited to his age.
It was undoubtedly the Argos Duke, who had single-handedly defended the supply lines and defenses while the five heroes attacked the Demonic forces.
Simultaneously, he was Camilla’s father and the former Army Minister of the empire who had accumulated countless military achievements in his youth.

“I am the one who, urged by your portly parents, brought you brats here.”
Of course, his temperament was no better or worse than Camilla’s.
“Let me put it bluntly. We’re all fucked. Thanks to our idiotic Emperor screwing around like an idiot, we’re all utterly fucked. The Demon Lord has regained his senses and reorganized his forces, and will soon attack leading all sorts of monsters, so we’re completely and utterly fucked.”

The children seemed slightly frightened by his thuggish conduct akin to a street ruffian.
In the midst of this, one child raised their hand and asked:
“Um…Since you are so strong, Your Grace, could you not directly fight the Demon Lord and…”
“This brat is cutely telling me to go die, it seems. Even if I fought those monsters, at best it would only buy half a day before I’m defeated? You want me to go die so you can live half a day longer? What is this now.”

He was a vulgar man unaware of dignity or propriety.
Disturbed by his sudden declaration, the children began murmuring in unease, but the Duke paid them no heed as he blew a battlefield whistle.

“I have a question.”
“Oh, by all means.”
The one who raised her hand was the future Empress Penelope.
“A busy Duke like yourself would not summon us merely to instill fear. What is your purpose?”
“You have accurately grasped it. My purpose is simply this – to create monsters who will not falter against the Demon Lord’s forces. For I have more talent in creating monsters than fighting them.”

In essence, he intended to train the young noble ladies and lords into human weapons.

“But why must we take the field?”
The one who posed that question was the future Emperor Azhel, the first prince.
“The nobles never participate in war themselves, only pushing the commoners from behind, you see…Before we lose to the Demon Lord, we’ll all be sent straight to the guillotine by a revolution, a revolution.”

The Duke mimicked slitting his throat with his thumb, instilling fear in the naive young nobles.
To the children who had lived their entire lives distant from death, the Duke’s words brought a despair greater than being told Santa did not exist.

“But the gist is simple.”
The Duke picked up a branch and drew a long line before the children, then said:
“Cross this line and land a blow on me. Of course, the moment you cross…I too shall attack you in earnest.”

It was unbecoming to treat mere children so, but the Duke was serious.
For it was clear those young lords and ladies who would cower from just this much would only be deadweights on the battlefield, so some culling was necessary.

“I have one question.”
“…What is it?”
Caught off guard by the sudden informal speech, the Duke nearly spat out the liquor in his mouth.
“If we lose this war, will Rizehl die?”
The one who posed that question was the young Raul.
Disheveled black hair, lifeless eyes, a weary and gloomy countenance – it was undoubtedly Raul.
Hearing her own name from her brother’s lips, Rizehl unconsciously took a step back in surprise.

“I know not who this Rizehl is, but if she’s human, she’ll definitely die. And address me properly, brat.”
“…An enemy you cannot defeat is invading, and the moment they arrive, Rizehl will die. I understand this well.”
“If you just speak unilaterally, that’s not a conversation but mere rambling, brat. More importantly, I told you to address me properly.”
“There is no room for compromise. I will fight.”

While he retained the habit of ignoring others’ words, the young Raul’s eyes held myriad emotions.
The Duke too read those emotions in his eyes and responded with interest.

“Very well, do as you wish, brat. And if you need a weapon, there are some beh…”
“I am not so foolish as to think I can land a blow on you with such things.”
Without any weapon, Raul charged straight at the Duke.
It was akin to a suicidal act, so Rizehl unconsciously reached out to stop Raul.
“Brother, have you gone mad?!”

But her hand could not grasp anything, as if trying to grab a wisp. Stunned by the sensation, Rizehl clumsily fell over.
Raul, who had darted forward so brashly…was struck in the face and sent flying back.

“I said if you crossed the line, I would attack. I also told you to address me properly. If you wish to land a blow, start with a weapon…”

The Duke felt some inexplicable discomfort and examined his right hand.
Then, seeing the liquor bottle he had been drinking from shattered, he let out a bitter smile.

“…Interesting. You shattered my bottle in that brief gap, did you? I didn’t feel any impact from a kick or punch. By the way, that was an expensive one.”
“It seems the direct approach is difficult.”
“Go ahead and try again, gloomy brat.”
“I intended to, without being told.”

Even as blood trickled from him, Raul charged at the Duke once more.
While most children would cry and seek their parents after such pain, Raul did not.
Instead, he recklessly rushed at the Duke more intensely than before.

“You madman. I did say I wanted to create monsters, but suicidal fools are another matter entirely.”
While he needed valiant souls, those devoid of fear were unacceptable.
For there was no existence more foolish than a fearless commander.

“You are disqualified.”
The Duke swung his hand blade to knock Raul unconscious.
But at that moment, a stinging pain caused him to halt his attack.
Seeing the blood dripping from his right hand, the Duke let out a hearty laugh as he stroked Raul’s head.

“Well well…I’ve never seen such a rascal.”
What was embedded in the Duke’s right hand was a shard from the liquor bottle he had just shattered.
“You shattered the bottle, hid a shard, then timed it to stab me when I attacked.”
“With my strength, I cannot drive a glass shard into your body. So I used your own strength instead. With your strength, it would be possible.”
“The blow earlier was to gauge that, was it? You really are a rabid rascal unlike any other.”
Laughing, the Duke pulled out the glass shard from his hand.
“Good, you pass. We need rabid rascals like you too. With a genius like you, I can surely create a monster.”

“…Am I a genius?”
“Yes. A brat who could land a blow on me could only be a genius.”

That was Raul’s first encounter with his teacher.
It was also the first time Raul met an adult who acknowledged his talents.

“By the way, who is this Rizehl for you to go that far? Or is she perhaps a girl you like mingled in over…”
“Rizehl is.”
Raul recalled his younger sister, whom he had nearly caused to die through his negligence.
His adorable younger sister who refused to let go of his finger. His lovely younger sister who would smile brightly at him. His precious younger sister whose meaningless babbling almost sounded like ‘brother’.
With a gentle smile, Raul said:
“That child can be the motivation for all my actions.”
“Motivation?”
“My motivation to live, my motivation to fight, my motivation to endure pain, my motivation to kill someone…and.”

Rizehl could not hide her shock at her brother’s radiant smile, something she had never seen before.
“She can even be my motivation to die.”
“This is an unexpectedly rude one. Good. First successful candidate.”
And the Duke seemed to rather favor Raul.
“I shall take responsibility for teaching you how to become a monster.”
“My thanks.”
“And mind your manners.”

In the future, the children who passed that test would suffer through the Duke’s ruthless and grueling training, but they all found solace in watching Raul.
For Raul underwent an even more ruthless and grueling regimen under the name of ‘etiquette training’.
Through that training, Raul was able to correct his formerly somewhat discourteous speech and conduct, but came to despise the Duke more than anyone.
Yet to Rizehl, such trivial stories were irrelevant.

“I’m the motivation for all your actions…? Don’t make me laugh…! Then why did you kill my fiancé…!”
The second prince she remembered was a more considerate and affectionate man than anyone.
She could never forgive Raul for killing such an affectionate fiancé.

“I cannot understand this…!”
“Or did you not try to understand?”
The one who uttered those words was none other than the young Raul.
It should have been impossible for a character within an illusion to perceive and address her directly.

“Ridiculous…How could this fake within an illusion…! This, this is all lies…! Yes, even that scene earlier was all…! This is not reality!”
“How is your reality any different, Rizehl?”
“What…?”
“You only saw what you wished to see, only heard what you wished to hear. How is your life any different from an illusion? I truly wonder – have you not cast an illusion upon yourself to live in?”

Unable to block out the young Raul’s harsh words, Rizehl could not bring herself to cover her ears.
For to do so would be akin to admitting his claim that she had only heard what she wished.

“But the fact remains that brother killed my fiancé…!”
“Yes, that does not change. But do not struggle so. I intended to show you that as well.”

As the young Raul snapped his fingers, the surrounding space began transforming.
“You too must properly see why your brother did such a thing. You have the right to see it.”

In an instant, the young Raul’s voice changed from that of a boy to a young woman’s voice.
“For you have the obligation to witness it.”