Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 5.1

Under the vibrant blue sky, the vast sea stretched out endlessly. Callisto’s massive flagship surged through the waves, its four masts hoisting fully inflated square sails. The ship had been cruising steadily with favorable winds for days, gaining momentum with its imposing presence.

Two large galleons, captained by Kevin and Anessa, flanked the flagship on either side, resembling a pair of protective wings. Behind them, the rest of the fleet and the Wynyeitz merchant ships followed in a disciplined formation.

I leaned against the prow, quietly observing the grand sight. It was awe-inspiring. The thought of returning home safely with all my ships loaded with valuable goods from the northern continent filled me with pride and anticipation.

Beside me, Callisto had been enthusiastically explaining the warships.

“Anessa’s ship is armed with 105 cannons. It’s an 1,800-ton vessel,” he said.

“Ah, I see.”

“Kevin’s warship has 98 cannons. It’s 1,600 tons—slightly smaller than Anessa’s but still formidable in combat.”

“Right, that makes sense.”

“My ship, being the flagship, is not only heavily armed but also the largest in our fleet. Actually, it’s the largest in the Empire.”

Although Callisto rattled off impressive numbers and tonnage, they didn’t mean much to me. I had mostly been half-listening, but when he mentioned it was the biggest in the Empire, my curiosity was piqued. Tugging on his sleeve, I asked, “Is this really the biggest ship in the Empire?”

His face lit up instantly. He nodded eagerly, his voice brimming with excitement as he continued, “Yes! My ship is a state-of-the-art, four-deck super battleship. Even the Eastern Continent doesn’t have anything like it. No matter what kind of battle breaks out, you’ll be safe onboard—”

“How much cargo can it carry?” I interrupted.

Though we planned to load the goods purchased from the northern continent onto the Wynyeitz merchant ships, having more storage space was always beneficial. The possibility of larger profits filled me with excitement.

But Callisto fell silent.

“Callisto?”

After a brief pause, he replied hesitantly, “…This ship is a warship. It’s never been used to carry cargo.”

“What? So it can’t carry anything? Even with three decks?”

“Four decks,” he corrected. “It’s a four-deck ship, which is much larger than a three-deck one. But it’s a 120-gun ship-of-the-line. The soldiers alone take up so much space that even food and supply storage is limited. Still, it’s invincible in naval battles—”

“Ah… so no cargo space at all,” I said.

My comment made Callisto clam up, his expression falling as he looked somewhat deflated. The way his shoulders drooped and his pouty demeanor resurfaced was so endearing that I couldn’t help but laugh. Only then did I realize he had been explaining the fleet with such enthusiasm because he wanted to show off. I had been too slow to catch on.

Feeling guilty, I smiled and gently shook his wrist. “But the fleet’s firepower is incredible. How many tons is this ship?”

Callisto avoided my gaze, mumbling under his breath. He was obviously sulking. His pouty face, cheeks puffed out, reminded me of how he looked as a child.

“You don’t actually care…” he muttered.

“I do care! I care a lot!” I assured him.

Relieved to see his familiar expression, I instinctively reached out and patted his cheek. Callisto, still sulking, allowed me to do so as he mumbled, “Do you really care? Honestly?”

“Of course I do. I swear.”

“Then how many cannons did I say this ship has?” he challenged.

I hadn’t been paying attention earlier, so I couldn’t recall. Awkwardly, I made a guess. “…A hundred?”

I vaguely remembered hearing something about “a hundred,” but Callisto’s narrowing eyes told me I was wrong. Embarrassed, I pinched his cheek gently and offered an excuse. “Sorry, I’m not good with numbers.”

“You’re bad with numbers? Aren’t you the one managing Wynyeitz’s finances?”

“Haha… Yeah, I guess…”

For me, ships were merely vessels for transporting goods. No matter how much Callisto explained their military value, it wasn’t something I was particularly interested in. Trying to make amends, I said, “I don’t know much about warships. I’m only familiar with merchant ships. But now that I’ve boarded one, it’s exciting and fascinating. Are you mad, Callisto?”

Callisto lowered his gaze, avoiding eye contact, but his expression began to soften. I noticed his ears turning red. It had always been easy to cheer him up. Whether he was a little boy whose head barely reached my chest or the tall man he was now, I found his endearing nature unchanging. A smile tugged at my lips.

“Really, the ship is incredible,” I said sincerely.

“…You think I’m incredible?” Callisto asked hesitantly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure! Haha…”

I had been referring to the ship, but his golden eyes sparkled so brightly that I nodded along enthusiastically.

“Yeah, it’s amazing. How did you manage to get a ship like this?”

“Well… It’s nothing special.”

“Nothing special? You said yourself there’s nothing like it in the Empire or the Eastern Continent.”

“Well… that’s true…”

“So, how many tons is it? 1,800?”

“No, that’s Anessa’s ship. This one is 2,200 tons.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed dramatically.

Callisto, despite being a seasoned admiral, blushed like a child, his shy yet proud demeanor unmistakable. The corners of his mouth twitched, betraying a hint of a smile.

As we chatted, I noticed the names elegantly inscribed on the ships flanking us. Anessa’s ship bore the name “Gilos I,” while Kevin’s read “Gilos II.” I realized I hadn’t checked the name of Callisto’s flagship when I boarded. Pointing to Gilos I, I asked, “Do captains name their ships?”

Callisto nodded. “Yes. If a ship is inherited, we keep its name, but most of our fleet’s ships were newly built.”

“What’s this ship’s name?”

“…This ship?”

Callisto’s expression shifted, his usually composed face now betraying a hint of embarrassment. Avoiding my gaze, he hesitated, which only made me more curious. I grabbed his elbow playfully.

“Why won’t you tell me? Did you name it something weird?”

“It’s… not important.”

“Come on, I’ll find out eventually. What are you hiding?”

After a long pause, Callisto let out a deep sigh and muttered, “…Etty.”

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“…Etty,” he repeated, barely audible.

Realization hit me. “Etty”—my personal nickname, one that only Callisto used—was the name of the flagship.

Blushing furiously, I avoided his gaze. Callisto, meanwhile, cautiously asked, “Are you upset?”

“Huh? No, why would I be upset?”

“I named the ship after you without asking…”

“No, it’s fine,” I stammered, shaking my head quickly.

Callisto had always been close to me, and no one would think it strange for him to name his ship after me. The strange one here was me. My cheeks refused to cool, and my heart pounded erratically. Lately, it had been doing that more often, almost as if I’d developed some odd arrhythmia.

Looking back, it was after the forced ordeal with Callisto during the heat spell that my symptoms grew noticeably worse. Referring to it as “spending the heat together” might be a bit misleading, but still, that was when it started.

“Brother, are you really upset?”

Callisto, clearly growing more anxious at my prolonged silence, fidgeted uneasily. I shook my head lightly with a small smile. While I couldn’t quite articulate how I was feeling, I knew for certain I wasn’t upset or annoyed.

“No, I’m not upset. Really.”

Callisto and I had shared a bond deeper than that of blood brothers for as long as I could remember. I could still vividly recall the fragile little boy who had first arrived at the Count’s estate, wary and frightened. To me, Callisto had always been the precious child I needed to protect.

But at some point, things began to change. Callisto had grown into an adult, we were no longer siblings even on paper, and he was now, officially, my fiancé.

And… it wasn’t just that.

Pressing a hand to my left chest, I felt an unfamiliar tremor beneath my palm.

Something had shifted—something I couldn’t explain but could no longer ignore. It left a weight on my chest, a frustration at my inability to put it into words.

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