The world was called Capulas—a place where magic and monsters were utterly commonplace.

Monsters? Well, you could just call them “monsters.” They were simply a collective term for abnormal creatures.

As for magic? In traditional Western fantasy terms, yeah—it was exactly what you’d call “magic.”

Naturally, beyond magic, all sorts of strange things existed.

Stretching east to west, north to south, Capulas held countless continents and civilizations. Its framework was incredibly complex: mystical magic, humble swordsmanship, advanced magitek.

Recorded history spanned only four epochs. This was the Fourth Epoch.

Geographers’ research across epochs confirmed it—Capulas was immense.

Yeah. *Huge.*

And beyond the continents? Wondrous realms hid underground and in the skies—places that stirred the soul.

Well… that was roughly this world.

And in one city within this vast land—

A golden-haired, blue-eyed boy of about ten was tied to a pillar.

Aside from the long scar running from forehead to left eye—a mark left by a cat’s claws—he was actually quite handsome.

Rhode’s features could’ve been called cute… if not for that scar marring his looks.

His name was Rhode. Full name: Rhode Carasco.

The Carasco surname carried immense prestige in the nation of Vankarel.

Every family bearing it ranked among Vankarel’s highest nobility.

Vankarel, the largest imperial state on the Central Continent, was said to be named after a legendary longsword—the very blade wielded by founding emperor Carasco.

So yes. *That* was the weight of the name “Carasco.”

Yet despite inheriting it, Rhode received little favor.

Seemingly not a “legitimate” Carasco. His bloodline wasn’t recognized.

Only the royal branch held that honor.

Ten years old—a prime age for chuunibyou.

True in any world, really.

Today, Rhode dove into roleplay… and caused trouble.

He’d mistaken bushes for mighty monsters, battled them fiercely, and smashed the surrounding fence.

His antics frustrated the family. Compared to his twin brother Shilo, Rhode seemed utterly unreliable.

Shilo shared nearly identical features—only their eye colors differed.

But Shilo held a composure and talent his older brother lacked.

The family doted on Shilo. Rhode? Perpetually punished.

But none of that mattered.

To Rhode, books were everything.

They fueled his imagination. A life without books? What was that but being a salted fish?

Novels were his favorite—pure fun.

Though bound, his hands weren’t tightly tied. He could lift them. Turn pages.

The novel in his grip? Brought by Shilo.

Their bond ran deep—no scheming rivalry like other noble siblings.

Maybe because Rhode genuinely didn’t care about power or wealth.

Or maybe he just hadn’t reached that age yet.

Tied since noon, Rhode never complained. Utterly absorbed in his book.

Then—*flip*—last page.

His expression froze.

*Finished.*

Why did novels only have three hundred pages?! Gone in a blink!

He *had* the next volume! Yes! But… tied up… how to reach it?

Shilo wasn’t nearby. No help coming.

Rhode sighed, eyes glazing over. Without a novel… wasn’t he just a salted fish?

…No. Even *with* one, he was still a salted fish at heart.

"Rhode! I brought your novel!"

Just in time—Shilo dashed over, book tucked under his arm, a mischievous grin on his face.

Rhode was punished. If caught aiding him, Shilo’d get scolded too—but lightly. The family spoiled him.

*So why not shamelessly rely on my little brother?!*

"You’re the best, little bro!" Rhode cheered, kicking his legs happily.

He’d never even mentioned waiting for Volume 2.

*Twin telepathy?!* Too strong!

"Please don’t call me ‘little bro.’ It’s weird," Shilo said with a wry smile. "Rhode… you can’t keep this up. Study properly with the tutors."

Lessons at home covered more than academics—mind games, political schemes.

Everyone thought: if Rhode couldn’t master swordsmanship, political arts were a worthy path.

Too bad he hated it all.

"I can’t learn it," Rhode muttered, pouting slightly.

"At least practice swordsmanship! It’s our family’s pride," Shilo sighed.

Rhode’s face flickered—annoyance, guilt, resignation—before he choked out, "Wasn’t *this morning* practice? Then I got tied up."

"That wasn’t practice. It was a chuunibyou episode." Battling bushes? Even Shilo, his same-age twin, had facepalmed.

Shilo spoke with calm authority—the *older* brother energy.

"Ahem," Rhode coughed deliberately.

"I’ll study hard from now on!" he declared, dead serious.