Chapter 53

Though his heart was chilled, instead of the blood-soaked violence he’d expected, Ihan merely gave him a light, playful knock on the head.

“My lord, are you alright?”

“It’s bearable.”

“…My lord, that’s a brick, not my head.”

Well, it may have been a light hit, but that didn’t mean he was entirely unharmed.

That arrogant cadet who had tried to give orders to his master was reprimanded, albeit lightly compared to what the mages had suffered.

Afterward, dragging the barely conscious or dead mages along, the group barged into a nearby tavern.

The door was locked, but…

Crash!

“Crawl, you little rats.”

“Eek!”

In this lawless area of the Parasite Abyss, anything was allowed.

Kicking out the thug pretending to be the tavern owner, they took over the place by force.

Ihan rummaged through the shelves and found what he needed.

“Here, if you don’t want her dead, splash this on her and do some basic treatment.”

“…Understood.”

Jack caught the alcohol Ihan tossed him.

It wasn’t something you’d typically find in a tavern, but it seemed the place had some disinfectant alcohol, fitting for a place with so many injured.

Jack approached to revive the ones they needed information from, while Ihan collapsed into a dirty chair and stretched his limbs.

“It’s tough not killing them and only subduing them.”

“…You seemed to handle them with ease.”

“I had to put some thought into it.”

“……”

“By the way, young master.”

“…Am I also a ‘young master’ now?”

“No arguing back; you know you owe me, right?”

“…Yes, I’m aware.”

“Good. At least you have some sense.”

…It was worrisome to deny that he owed anything.

‘I’m the one who used him.’

Loen had known about the mages but couldn’t act, lest he leave traces of his family’s strength,

the power that bore the mark of the Grand Duke’s lineage.

That would limit his movements even further, as he was already under scrutiny as the heir to the Grand Duchy.

Thus:

“To be honest, that letter was a gamble. I wasn’t sure if you were even aware of them.”

“Well, lucky for you, it paid off.”

“…Given your apparent dislike for mages, I thought there was a good chance.”

“You have a good eye. Yeah, those bugs are among the things I despise most.”

“……”

…Not even treated as human.

His hatred for mages was more intense than expected, and Ihan’s expression betrayed a faint satisfaction.

He seemed to derive some sense of accomplishment from tearing out or crushing mages’ throats.

“If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a personal grudge against mages?”

“Nothing big—just spent about ten years as an experimental slave.”

“……”

“Nothing too serious, right?”

“…Hmm.”

Even the densest fool could tell he wasn’t being sincere.

Loen offered a bitter smile, regretting that he’d asked.

“That guy… He doesn’t even remember why he went wild six years ago.”

“…Are you talking about Professor Oddwal?”

Right on point, it was easy to converse with someone sharp and perceptive.

They understood without lengthy explanations.

As Ihan polished his throwing knives and hand axes, he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, that idiot.”

“Hmm.”

Oddwal Bernard, the youngest professor in the Department of Magic, was a reputed genius, despite his prickly personality.

But Ihan cared little for the reputation of mages; to him, they were either to be killed or, rarely, spared.

In this case:

“He was just a dumb mage. Didn’t even know he was being used.”

“So, there’s a mastermind behind it.”

“Yeah, he said he’d had a drink with Hans—no, this parasite impersonating Hans—the night before the entrance ceremony six years ago. But he couldn’t remember anything after that.”

“Drugged or put under a mind-altering spell. All illegal magic.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t matter; he didn’t apologize to those he hurt, nor did he care why he did what he did. No conscience. Maybe he’s lying about not remembering at all.”

“That’s a harsh assessment.”

“It’s not harsh; it’s accurate.”

Ihan chuckled, tucking his polished weapons into his belt.

Jack watched Ihan with a look of mild surprise.

“What?”

“You’re meticulous with your weapons. By your image, I thought you’d treat them as disposable.”

“Want to get smacked?”

“…No, sir.”

“If you’re going to use blades, know this: anyone who treats their weapons as disposable won’t amount to much. These could be my lifelines. Got it, you cheeky assassin?”

“I’m neither an assassin nor cheeky.”

“Yeah, former assassin, cheeky brat.”

“…Damn!”

It was frustrating not to deny it.

But Ihan, whose past was even more colorful, shook his head, thinking of the sensitive emotions of young men in their twenties.

After finishing his weapon care, Ihan turned to Loen.

“So, you arrogant young master, giving orders to your instructor.”

“…That’s quite the title.”

“Consider it lenient. Now, let’s have a productive conversation.”

“Go ahead.”

Loen faced Ihan with a determined expression.

Whatever question came, he was prepared to answer, or at least offer some excuse.

With countless calculations in mind, Loen nodded confidently—until:

“Have you found the ‘real’ Hans, Dorothy, Cam, Den, and Alain?”

“……”

…An entirely unexpected question.

Faced with such a simple, reasonable question, Loen was momentarily speechless.

People whose identities and faces had been stolen by the Forbidden Mages.

How was he supposed to answer that?

He probably already knew the answer.

After all, if the Forbidden Mages had gotten to them…

“If their bodies haven’t been found, there’s a 1% chance they’re alive. Even if they’re dead, their remains should be returned to their families.”

“……”

“You have power and resources. And there are bugs who know things. Use whatever means necessary to find them.”

“……”

“You can do that, right?”

“…It will take time, but I’ll find them.”

“Good, that’s all I need to hear.”

With that, Ihan rose from his seat.

It was as if he didn’t care to know anything more.

Involuntarily, Loen found himself asking:

“Aren’t you curious about anything else?”

Don’t you wonder how I knew about the Forbidden Mages?

Or why I was watching them?

What purpose the son of the Grand Duke has in all of this?

These were questions any ordinary person would ask, yet Ihan hadn’t mentioned a single one.

It wasn’t normal.

And yet, he cared enough to search for the missing people.

What… is this?

“Loen Dmitri de Lionel.”

“!”

It was the first time he’d used his full name.

Loen flinched.

Even though it wasn’t a reprimand, something in his stomach churned uneasily.

Ihan’s piercing blue eyes locked onto him.

“I don’t know what your goal is, what you’re hiding, or what schemes you have. But I don’t care.”

“……”

“Why? Because there’s no need for me to know. A person shouldn’t indulge too much curiosity. Sometimes, curiosity is just a monster you have to suppress. Especially for someone like me, who’s just an ordinary wage earner.”

“…Just a wage earner?”

A knight of the White Lion Order, an Academy instructor—these titles were hardly insignificant.

“To me, it’s all the same. Whether blacksmith, carpenter, baker, or gardener, they all live day by day, working hard in their own lives. Being a knight or an Academy instructor doesn’t make me any more special than them. And likewise, the lives and fates of others are all ‘equal’ to me.”

“!”

“Loen Dmitri de Lionel, I still don’t care what your goal is. But don’t break the moral code to achieve it. If you throw away your morals to get what you want, you’re no different from these people here.”

Ihan gestured to the bodies of the Forbidden Mages strewn across the ground.

Loen’s gaze darkened, and he clenched his teeth.

He could not say it.

Even if it meant becoming ‘evil,’ he was prepared to do whatever it took to achieve his goal, even if it meant becoming like them.

So, he would—!

Thunk.

“…?”

“Damn disciple, don’t try to handle everything on your own. If you’re young, act like it and consult with an adult. Or lean on your parents. You have powerful parents, after all.”

“…What kind of logic is that?”

“Advice for a young man who looks too burdened. Sometimes the hardest thing you face looks trivial to others. Keep that in mind. Not that I’m saying to rely on me. I despise everything about nobility and power.”

“…Ha.”

It was incredibly irresponsible advice.

And yet, why…?

Why did these illogical, unreasonable words feel like they pierced his heart?

Perhaps it was their straightforward sincerity or merely the presence of the man himself.

Who knows?

But one thing was certain.

“Strange… I feel like a child.”

“At twenty, you are a child.”

“…Hmm.”

There was something palpably ‘adult’ about him.

He lightly tapped his head, as if tousling a child’s hair…

It wasn’t exactly pleasant to be treated like a kid.

Ihan left without any hesitation or lingering feelings.

Without asking a single question.

“This is a new experience.”

Since he had witnessed the ‘miracle of time,’ Loen had often found himself treating others as though they were young, even if they were older than him.

Even if they had lived longer than him, few had lived through experiences as intense as he had.

Today, however:

‘I’m the one being treated like a kid.’

It wasn’t all that bad, oddly enough…

“Jack.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Heal them and start interrogating. Get every last piece of information out of them.”

“How far should we go?”

“Keep them alive, make sure they don’t die. Inflict endless pain.”

“Understood.”

The crimes of the three remaining mages were even more heinous than the ones who had died.

A woman who killed for fun, a man who raped and then murdered, and one specialized in kidnapping and torture.

They could not be granted a quick death.

They would be tormented until their lives expired.

“Also, find the missing people. If they’re alive, bring them back. If dead, preserve their remains.”

“……”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“…It just feels good to sense a bit of humanity from you, my lord.”

“Rubbish.”

“Haha, yes, just rubbish, haha!”

“……”

Loen remained silent.

It wasn’t that he was angry at his subordinate’s remark; rather, he was surprised to find that he still had such feelings left.

Even so…

‘Human… huh.’

Strangely, that word…

‘It feels nice.’

It wasn’t so bad.

‘I’ve gotten myself involved with a troublesome person.’

The moment he’d learned that there was a regressor, he’d known the future wouldn’t be so smooth.

And today, as expected, ‘parasites’ had appeared.

The real issue was,

‘They might continue to appear.’

This was less a prediction and more a certainty.

The regressor was clearly planning something, and there were enemies he had labeled as [targets].

Today, Ihan had dealt with them because he hated this particular breed.

But next time, no mercy.

If it came to it, he’d go full martial arts-style expulsion.

‘In wuxia stories, they’d crush the limbs, sever the qi channels, or something like that, right?’

Maybe he should consider ‘dislocation and reattachment’—that might be easier.

‘…Maybe it’s even physically possible?’

With potions and troll’s blood, a live human disassembly-show could be quite possible, he thought darkly as he walked away.

Then, suddenly:

“Sir! You’re here.”

“…Ah.”

His wandering steps had led him home.

A small cabin with a modest yard.

And there, wearing a maid’s uniform and smiling brightly, was Leila Winter, waiting for him.

“…Why are you here? What about the party?”

He had told her to enjoy the party, so why was she at his home?

Puzzled, he tilted his head, and she beamed back.

“I wanted to spend time with you!”

“?”

“Oh, and it seems the princess wanted to join too.”

…Only then did he realize he wasn’t alone in the cabin.

Click.

“You’re late.”

“……”

“Leaving a guest waiting is no way to behave. Very rude.”

“…Is that what you say to someone just back from work?”

He looked at her with mild exasperation as she entered with the sound of heels clicking against the floor.

A noblewoman as elegant as Isis hardly suited a humble cabin like this.

“…What are you doing here instead of at the party?”

“A host should let the guests enjoy the party. It’s common courtesy.”

“Then why aren’t you at the castle?”

“It’s a sister’s duty to look after her sibling.”

“……”

“Keep your eyes open and alert.”

“Good grief…”

Always her way.

“Leila.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“Not ‘Your Highness,’ call me ‘Ma’am.’”

“Hehe, yes, Ma’am.”

“Enough, fetch the finger foods and wine. …Bring yourself something too.”

“Yes!”

The preparations were swift.

It seemed everything had been ready before he arrived.

Though he felt somewhat like they were teasing him,

‘There’s nothing I can say.’

Instead of feeling annoyed, he was grateful for their kindness.

After all, they’d waited for him, welcoming him to a party at his own home.

A party held just for him.

Ihan gave up any pretense of complaint, collapsed into a prepared seat, and remarked:

“…I’ll gladly accept the late housewarming gift.”

“My presence is the gift; be grateful.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“…You’re incorrigible.”

Smack!

Her fan flashed as they clinked their glasses of white wine together.

Though it wasn’t grand or extravagant,

“Why does it taste so good?”

“It’s from the royal wine cellar. Only a thousand bottles of it were made about fifty years ago in the Brittany region.”

“Truly rare, then.”

“Not too rare—about a hundred gold coins could buy it.”

“…Let’s just drink, shall we?”

It was a simple yet fulfilling feast.

And so, the quiet gathering of a knight, a princess, and a maid continued for quite some time, under the backdrop of a night sky showered with stars like rain.