"Oops, I Killed the King… Anyway, Here’s My Baby Sister!"

So yeah… turns out I killed the king. And now, I have a newborn sister, an entire kingdom staring at me, and absolutely no clue what happens next. Welp, time to fake my death and move to another continent.

Or so I thought.

"WITH THE BLESSINGS OF THE GODS AND THE SUPPORT OF EVERY CITIZEN OF DRAYVONTHAL, THE FIRST SON OF OUR BELOVED LATE KING NORMAN HEMSWORTH—PRINCE ARTHUR HEMSWORTH—WILL ASCEND AS THE NEW KING!"

Cue the deafening cheers of thousands of people who had absolutely no idea their previous king was actually a giant dragon.

Oh, right. Three days after the whole "I accidentally assassinated the king" incident, the royal family made an official announcement:

"Our beloved king has peacefully passed away due to old age."

Yeah, sure. If by 'old age' they mean 'incinerated in a fiery battle against a Toddler who was just trying to mind his own business.'

But apparently, to maintain peace and avoid mass panic, the royal mages erased the memories of all the common folk who witnessed me yeet a dragon into the afterlife. Only the royal knights, my family, Benward, and Meiroth retained the truth.

Which meant that—once again—I had saved the kingdom, and no one would ever know.

…Why does this feel weirdly familiar?

"Now, our new king shall honor the brave warriors who defended the kingdom against the dragon on the 22nd night!"

Ah, yes. The prestigious recognition ceremony. The moment where the kingdom's greatest heroes are acknowledged and—oh wait, I'm not on that list, am I?

"First, Sir Aldren Blackfyre!"

My father stepped forward, his usual stoic expression barely hiding the smug pride radiating off him. The knights saluted, and the king himself placed a golden medal on his chest.

"For your bravery in leading the knights and ensuring the safety of our people, we recognize you as one of Drayvonthal's greatest protectors!"

Translation: 'Congrats for almost dying while your son handled the real problem.'

"Next, Sir Benward Roseworth!"

Benward walked up with the same calm grace he always had, but let's not forget—this man held down a freaking dragon by its tail and nearly split its skull open with his bare hands. The knights saluted as the king placed a golden medal on his chest.

"For your sheer display of strength and valor in battle, we recognize you as one of Drayvonthal's greatest protectors!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, but Benward, being the absolute menace he is, just gave a small nod like it was no big deal.

Yeah, sure, buddy. You only body-slammed a dragon. Totally casual.

"And lastly, Sir Meiroth Brethword!"

Oh, boy. Here we go.

Meiroth practically ran up to the stage, grinning like he had just won the lottery. His entire body was trembling—whether from excitement or the sheer effort of holding himself back from screaming, I wasn't sure.

"For your unwavering courage and relentless pursuit of justice—"

"HAHAHA! EXPLOSIONS! I MEAN, UH—THANK YOU, YOUR MAJESTY!"

Yeah, okay. Definitely excitement.

Meiroth grabbed his medal like it was the Holy Grail, raising it high above his head as if expecting fireworks to go off in the background. The crowd cheered.

Meanwhile, I just stood there, watching as my name was very intentionally left out.

…I swear, if Astraia is laughing at me from heaven, I'm going to have words.

Ahh, it's finally over…

No, it's not!

Now it's time for a personal meeting with the king. Just me, Dad, Benward, and Meiroth. Great.

Sitting on the royal throne was King Arthor Hemsworth—24 years old and already ruling a kingdom. Damn, he's young. Still, in my past life, this guy nearly turned Drayvonthal into the most developed kingdom, with its economy skyrocketing.

Not as strong as his father, but definitely smart and clever.

Arthor leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "You guys really saved the kingdom. I don't even know where to start."

Benward stretched his arms, looking unimpressed. "Start by giving me a title—'Benward the Dragon Slayer' sounds about right."

Meiroth scoffed. "You mean 'Benward the Guy Who Held a Dragon's Tail and Almost Got Roasted'?"

Benward shot him a look. "Details."

Dad chuckled, but Arthor just sighed. "Listen, as much as I'd love to have the bards sing about this, we can't. The people believe my father died peacefully, and that's how it has to stay. If they found out the king was a dragon, it'd throw the whole kingdom into chaos."

I folded my arms. Yeah, no kidding. Imagine finding out your ruler was secretly a fire-breathing lizard. That's some premium nightmare fuel.

Arthor continued, "So, we're never mentioning this again. Not to anyone. Not even to Ryuk when he grows up."

That caught my attention. "Wait, what?"

Dad patted my shoulder. "You're still a kid. Memories fade. If no one ever talks about it, you might just forget."

…

Oh.

Oh, that's their genius plan? Just wait for me to 'grow out of it'?

I stared at them.

Benward shrugged. "Honestly, could work. When I was a kid, I swore I saw a ghost in my house, but turns out, I just forgot my uncle was visiting."

Meiroth raised an eyebrow. "That is not the same thing."

I sighed. Sure, let's just pretend I won't remember the part where I accidentally assassinated a king. Totally gonna forget that one.

...

The guild was booming with celebration—tankards clashing, food disappearing at an alarming rate, and drunk adventurers belting out completely off-key songs like this was some medieval karaoke night. Honestly, after today's painfully long ceremony, this was exactly what we needed.

Benward raised his mug high. "To the warriors who saved the kingdom! Even if no one will ever know!"

"CHEERS!!!" The whole guild roared in agreement, chugging down their drinks like they hadn't just lived through a near-death experience.

Well, most of them were celebrating.

Meiroth, on the other hand, sat at the table with the biggest pout I had ever seen. Arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, radiating pure 'I am NOT happy' energy.

"I still can't believe this… We literally saved the kingdom, and history books are just gonna pretend it never happened?" he whined, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat like it owed him money.

Dad chuckled, sipping his drink. "That was kinda the plan, remember?"

Meiroth groaned dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, but still! Benward held a dragon down by its tail! He nearly split its skull open with his bare hands! And what do we get? A 'thank you' and a 'shh, don't tell anyone'?"

Benward smirked, leaning back. "You say that like I care. I got free food, free drinks, and a whole guild singing my praises. I'm good."

Meiroth shot him a glare. "Of course you're good. You'd be happy if they paid you in bread crumbs as long as you got to show off your muscles."

A guild member laughed. "Dude, just tell the story yourself! Who needs history books when you can scream it at every tavern you visit?"

Meiroth groaned. "Oh, right, and in 20 years, when I'm a washed-up old man, people will think I'm just some lunatic who drinks too much and makes up stories."

Benward clapped him on the back with enough force to almost send him flying. "Exactly, old man! Now stop sulking and drink up!"

Meiroth grumbled under his breath but still chugged his drink like a champ.

Meanwhile, I just sat back and watched the chaos unfold. For once, I'm not the one dealing with this mess… Maybe—just maybe—this NPC life thing might actually work out for me.

…Yeah. No. I don't even believe that myself.

And then suddunly mom walked in, holding little Asuna in her arms, the entire guild immediately fell into an awkward silence. Grown warriors, drunk adventurers, and even Benward, who was just booming with laughter a second ago, suddenly turned into a bunch of whispering school kids.

Wow. So they do know how to shut up.

Someone nudged the guy next to him. "Shh, shh, the baby's sleeping!"

Benward, who had never spoken in a low voice in his entire life, cleared his throat and, in an almost whisper-like tone, raised his mug. "Cheers… cheers for our brave Maria."

He glanced at Asuna, his face softening just a bit. "And cheers for the newborn baby girl of Maria and Aldren!!"

A wave of gentle cheers echoed through the room, mugs raised high—but, for the first time tonight, no one shouted, no one banged their cups together, and no one tried to challenge each other to a drinking contest.

Instead, they just smiled.

Even Meiroth, who had been sulking about not making it into history, wiped his face and grinned. "Well… I guess some things are more important than making it into a book."

I sat there, watching them, feeling something I couldn't quite explain.

This… isn't so bad, is it?

Mei asked in her sweet, concerned tone, "Ahh, but Lady Maria, it's been three days since the baby was born. With the holy temples damaged in the dragon attack, how are you going to complete the ritual and give her the gods' blessings?"

Mom sighed, looking worried. "I've been thinking about that too…"

Dad, ever the genius, scratched his chin. "Hmm… if only we had someone blessed by all seven gods who could chant and give the baby their blessings instead…"

Ah. Here it comes.

The entire room went dead silent. Then, in perfect synchronization, every single person turned to stare at me.

...Of course.

Benward grinned. "Well, well, would you look at that? Looks like we do have someone blessed by all seven gods, huh?"

Meiroth smirked. "And he's just sitting here like a regular guy when he could be summoning divine blessings on command!"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Seriously, why do I even try?

Mom looked at me, hopeful. "Ryuk, dear… would you?"

I took a deep breath.

"... Do I have a choice?"

Benward slapped my back. "Nope!"

I groaned. Alright, alright, let me just get this over with before someone decides to make me a high priest or something...

I started chanting and, for the first time in this lifetime, I held my baby sister. Wow. First bonding moment, and I'm already baptizing her. This is totally normal.

I summoned the holy water of Goddess Aqua and gently poured it over her tiny forehead. Sorry, my dear sister, I know this is soooo bad. But hey, don't blame me—blame these ridiculous rituals. Also, why is everyone okay with a three-year-old doing this to a three-day-old?

Asuna let out a tiny wail. Welp, there it is. I've officially traumatized my baby sister on day one.

Thankfully, Mom dried her off quickly, humming softly to calm her down.

And now, for the grand finale—the long, drawn-out blessing chant.

I took a deep breath, raised my hand dramatically, and declared, "And with this… she will be known as Asuna Blackfyre!!!"

Yay, I get to name my sister! Maybe this life won't be so bad after all.