Chapter 93

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The Duke had been personally sponsoring an eccentric scholar interested in Physis research for quite some time, even though the progress of the research seemed to be minimal.

“According to the research so far, ‘certain conditions’ can be met to find stability within the sphere of influence of the power.”

“…Conditions?”

“In simple terms, it means there exists something in this world that plays a role similar to that of the magical barrier’s boundary.”

The woman blinked her eyes and looked up at him, seemingly asking what that was.

The Duke bit his lip for a moment. If he knew what it was, he would have already taken the initiative to find it.

“No one knows what it is yet.”

“….”

The woman, disappointed, lowered her head.

“I will assign a magician to maintain the barrier for the time being. So… stay alive.”

However, the woman shook her head.

“There’s no such thing.”

She replied with a firm voice.

“This is a curse that ends only in death. I know it. When that power entered my body…”

She closed her eyes. When the suffocating power of nature filled her entire body, she couldn’t even move properly.

It was human arrogance to think that she could run away to a place where no one was if signs of an explosion appeared.

The power that filled her throat to the brim mocked her, saying that she couldn’t escape.

Weak humans could do nothing but melt into it, unable to even breathe properly, merely serving as a medium for the power to activate.

“I don’t want to go through that experience again…ugh.”

She clasped her neck and the area near her heart, collapsing to the floor.

Just recalling the moment of explosion made her breath hitch and her body seem to tremble.

“Gasp, gasp.”

She scratched the floor with her fingernails, barely managing to breathe heavily.

The Duke moved his steadfast steps forward, little by little.

With each step closer, the horrific sight of her became more vivid, and it pained him.

Clumps of hair that seemed almost plucked out, a body so emaciated that bones were nearly exposed, and fingernails that were almost completely broken off.

How long had she been suffering like this?

Yet, the Duke still hoped she would choose life. After all, wasn’t there still a possibility?

If there was someone in this vast world who knew the answer to this dreadful disease… and if that answer could be found.

Then perhaps this woman could live.

He hoped so. Please.

But when he finally stood in front of her,

The woman, with reddened eyes and saliva smeared across her face, raised her head to plead with him.

“Your Highness, please grant me the mercy to escape this filthy curse!”

The Duke quickly clenched his fist as he felt his fingertips trembling, making sure no one noticed his agitation.

He had to maintain his composure.

‘Why.’

But he couldn’t stop the thoughts that involuntarily filled his mind.

‘…Why is it so exactly the same.’

He moved his lips, which he had bitten to prevent any futile words from escaping.

“I understand your thoughts.”

A flicker of light appeared on her face. Since looking at it was painful, the Duke turned away.

“I will come back soon.”

While the Duke could have carried out the execution of a Physis on his own at any time, at least not right now.

Exiting the cell, the Duke asked a knight to call for a maid.

“She needs to be prepared.”

“Excuse me?”

The knight asked back in surprise, a rare occurrence.

“A maid?”

“There should be some. Those who prepare the body before execution.”

Indeed, there were such people. However, they were tasked with preparing those of noble rank or higher for execution.

“For that, monster.”

The knight almost voiced, “Perhaps such grace isn’t necessary,” but quickly shut his mouth as the Duke’s expression turned sharply displeased.

‘Why would he do that?’

The knight thought it strange, but anyway, the Duke was here by the Emperor’s will.

He couldn’t defy that.

“I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Good. And contact the temple.”

To call a priest as well?! The knight’s face now turned pale.

It was as if they were treating the killing of a monster with the same respect as a noble elder.

The Duke added a small explanation in response to the knight’s reaction.

“There’s something I need to confirm with the priest.”

“What is…?”

The Duke’s gaze briefly settled on where Isaiah was standing.

The baby he was holding had intermittently cried while the Duke and the woman were facing each other, but now it was sound asleep, oblivious to the world.

“That child. I heard no one has come forward claiming to be its parents.”

As he finished speaking, a clanking sound followed by the woman’s scream echoed.

Upon hearing those words, it seemed she understood the Duke’s intention.

“Absolutely not!”

The loud outcry woke the lightly sleeping child, who began to thrash about with a cry of ‘wah’.

Isaiah quickly started to rock the child to soothe him, but for some reason, the child was not easily calmed this time.

The Duke shifted his gaze from the child to the woman clutching the bars, staring at her intently.

Her gaze inevitably lingered on the child.

However, as soon as she realized the Duke was looking at her, she quickly turned her head away.

“Really, it’s not.”

“Is that so.”

“…”

“Anyway, it will be revealed once the priest arrives. Execution is His Majesty’s affair, so they can’t delay it.”

At his response, the woman clung to the bars more strongly.

“Please! Didn’t you say you would show mercy?!”

She shouted, shaking the bars incessantly. It was useless, even as the knight rushed to pull her away.

“It’s definitely not my child…!”

At that moment, the crying child twisted his body as if he was about to scream. The force was so strong that Isaiah almost dropped the child.

“Ah…! Right, yes. That’s right. It’s because I stood still, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

The woman paused her plea and looked in that direction, startled.

Isaiah hurriedly started walking from one end of the corridor to the other, although it did not stop the child from crying.

“Hahh…”

The woman let out a long breath and prostrated herself on the floor.

“I beg you.”

The Duke merely looked at her.

“I have no desire to groom a body that will rot away. Please, show me mercy right now.”

Her voice was desperate, now mixed with sobs.

“Please.”

But there was no response from the Duke. He seemed to be still concerned about the baby.

The woman’s voice rose again.

“Why do I have to wait longer because of a child that has nothing to do with me? Huh?!”

However, her words trembled at the end, likely because it was a lie.

The Duke remembered the woman’s face when the baby almost fell from Isaiah’s arms—filled with worry and horror.

Moreover, the desperate appearance she now showed was something he was all too familiar with.@@novelbin@@

“I will kill this child!”

He had never forgotten Beatrice’s face when she said those words. He never thought it would be helpful on this day.

‘…For the sake of the child, you chose to pretend not to know.’

Just like his wife had done.

There’s very little known about this condition, but one known fact is that it doesn’t always get passed down.

If it did, far more terrible events would have occurred by now.

Yet, people shunned their children, calling them ‘monster’s offspring.’

The woman likely didn’t want to leave such a cruel fate for her child.

The Duke thought anew about the courage it takes to give up one’s child.

It’s questionable whether that terrible thing can be called ‘courage’…

‘Maybe it’s necessary. After all, no one would want to pass on suffering to their child…’

He decided not to torment the woman any further. Some truths are better left undiscovered.

“Understood.”

As he nodded, the woman, with tears filling her face, repeatedly bowed her head to him, saying ‘Thank you, thank you,’ over and over.

“I’ll honor your request. And about that child as well.”

“Yes, that child is… Huh!”

It’s not my child.

The woman was about to say that.

She would have insisted on it, had she not faced the child’s face suddenly floating right in front of the bars.

The child was precariously floating in front of the bars, as if by someone’s magic.

The child, unable to even hold itself properly, struggled as if trying to escape from something.

Still crying loudly.

She wasn’t the only one startled by the situation.

The Duke, the knights, and the magicians watching the scene were all speechless at this sudden turn of events.

“Sigh.”

Eventually, a small sigh was heard from behind the child’s crying. It was Jeremiah.

His fingertips were directed towards the baby.

This meant that Jeremiah was the one who had magically lifted the child into the air.

“It’s okay.”

Jeremiah approached the bars, his face shadowed by the blackness cast by his robe pulled over his head.

“Please, continue speaking.”

He extended the child close to the woman’s face between the bars.

The woman, startled, hastily retreated backward, crawling on the floor with her hands and legs.

“Why?”

Finally reaching the bars, Jeremiah pounded on them with his fist, shouting.

“You were about to say it anyway!”

In that moment, the large robe enveloping him slid off behind his head.

Perhaps from holding back his voice for so long, the young boy’s lips were bruised and bleeding.

Tears filled his eyes to the brim, blurring his vision, and streamed down his slender cheeks. Jeremiah banged on the bars again.

“Speak! Wouldn’t it make for a very poor first memory for your child?!”

Jeremiah still cradled the crying baby deeply in his arms.

He sensed something.

The baby had a talent for magic. Unfortunately.

It meant that this child’s mind was exceptionally sharp for a baby, and in extreme cases, there was a possibility…

That he might remember this moment, even if only in fragments.

Perhaps as his first memory.

Until he realizes the truth beyond that memory, the child would grow up blaming himself.

Feeling there was something inherently wrong with him.

Constantly…

Jeremiah shook his head. He didn’t want to witness such misfortune again.

“…I will.”

He lifted his head to look directly at the woman.

“Take her with me.”

The woman, startled, stared intently at Jeremiah.

Jeremiah wiped his eyes. A deep green light, symbolic of him, blossomed at the tip of his fingernails and soon seeped into the forehead of the young baby.

It was a ritual among magicians. The sole magic that binds a master and a disciple.

It was a magic that shouldn’t be performed recklessly, but at that moment, no magician stopped him.