The Most Beautiful and Strongest Beast
The most beautiful and strongest beast.
A man whose overwhelming skill and striking appearance rendered his lowly birth irrelevant. In all of Leveln’s history, he was the only commoner to rise into the nobility, eventually becoming knight commander and receiving the title of count.
‘Mathias, who has not yet fallen into Joslyn’s hands… is here.’
Mathias had been the greatest force behind Joslyn’s ascent as a powerful claimant to the throne, and the central figure in the rebellion Joslyn later launched. Joslyn’s life was sharply divided into the periods before and after meeting Mathias; the young knight’s appearance had been a turning point that changed everything.
The hero known as the incarnation of the war god Gerard earned the glamorous nickname “War Demon” for his brutality. In the great barbarian subjugation where Lerusha first encountered him, Mathias—then only a seventeen-year-old boy—had single-handedly annihilated an enemy encampment, slaughtering more than forty warriors before he was found.
“Did you kill all of them?”
“…….”
“I’m not here to punish you. You simply spared us the labor, so I only wish to express my gratitude.”
“…….”
“How interesting. So young, yet already this remarkable. Truly a talent worth watching. Lerusha, what do you think? It feels exactly like the day I first discovered you.”
‘A man of such overwhelming ability that I could not even dare to compare myself to him.’
Though Lerusha had been his master, Mathias had long since surpassed her.
He had no equals. His strength defied human limits; only after she became queen did Joslyn reveal its true source.
Mathias was not human. He was a beast wearing a human hide—a monster in the shape of a man. Not every beast could imitate humanity, but the higher the rank, the more perfect the disguise. At the very least, Mathias belonged to the tiny handful of upper- or top-tier specimens.
Joslyn had found him during a war waged for merit, then raised him. At first he probably hadn’t known the boy was a beast; he must have learned the truth later through some circumstance.
Joslyn used Mathias, and once he claimed the throne he began to check him. The man returned from every campaign draped in the people’s cheers and the scent of blood; his existence threatened the legitimacy of a usurper who had seized the crown through treason.
So Joslyn tried to kill him. Sending barely a thousand troops against eight thousand independent soldiers from Erbaden was nothing short of pushing him into a grave. Yet Mathias had returned alive, without so much as a scratch on that handsome face.
“If I had taken your hand before Joslyn did… what would have changed?”
Her fingertips twitched. The sensation from that day, branded into her like a scar, crept up again and wrapped around her hand. Just as it had then—his large palm tightly binding her small one. The feeling he had told her to remember remained vivid.
Yes. If she seized the untamed hand first, right here and now, what would change?
For one thing, Joslyn would never ascend the throne. The glorious achievements of the great barbarian subjugation had originally belonged to Mathias, who had shed blood in his stead. Without Mathias at his side, Joslyn would have no feats to steal, no adoring masses hailing him as a war hero. The young tyrant who had usurped the crown through rebellion would fade into the back pages of history, as if he had never existed.
Couldn’t she simply sit back and take revenge on Joslyn? Frustrating his ambition for the throne would be revenge in itself.
If she kept him close and coaxed him the way Joslyn had, the reflected glory would be immense. He was a sapling destined to become knight commander and a savior hero who would overcome a chaotic age.
‘A noble without the protection of his house. A princess denied recognition from birth, never formally adopted. A person who does not exist in the eyes of the world… yet she is undeniably alive, with the blood of Grusewald flowing through her veins. The noble lineage Joslyn wanted so desperately but could never possess now resides in this body.’
If she could not find her original body in this place, if she could not locate the true owner of this shell… if she were forced to continue living as Odeliana, the current situation was untenable.
Had she been born a commoner, she might have enjoyed a moderately peaceful life. But this body belonged to a disabled noble. Though never acknowledged by House Grusewald, the bloodline was unmistakable. The life of an outsider who belonged nowhere could not be smooth.
Therefore she needed Mathias at her side all the more. Among those within her reach, he was the most useful and valuable. She was not foolish enough to leave a jewel-quality rough stone lying beside her and fail to use it.
Without question, Mathias was a card of infinite utility. And at this moment he still had no master. Claiming him now would provide her with an outstanding foundation for this life.
‘The place where I first met Mathias was Kobeck, the slum district of Anatolia. The current Mathias must be living there. He said he had lived in Kobeck since he was very young.’
Fortunately, Anatolia was not far.
It was close enough that Blair had immediately offered to fetch party supplies. If she was going to bring Mathias back, now was the perfect time. Next autumn the barbarian subjugation that would rewrite Leveln’s history would break out in Anatolia; waiting until then would be too late. And far too dangerous.
He had been seventeen when she met him during the subjugation, so he must be sixteen now. Before someone else recognized the value of an unclaimed young boy and snatched him first, she had to take him herself.
To do that, she first had to fix this useless body. At the very least she needed to reach the point where she could walk with a cane instead of requiring someone to support her.
Odeliana rose with all her strength, determined to finish preparations before Blair left. The startled woman hurried over, and Odeliana told her,
“Call a physician to assist with rehabilitation.”
The days that followed were so desperate that the time she had once thought ‘I would rather die’ now felt like a distant, pale memory.
Once she threw herself into full rehabilitation training, Odeliana devoted herself from early morning until late at night. She bound her immobile legs with splints, practiced standing on one leg, and repeated the grueling process of walking with a cane like a dog being trained for tricks.
For the first week the pain of cracked soles and swollen legs was so severe she could not sleep without painkillers. Yet after passing that first week the agony that had tormented her all night gradually subsided, and the distance she could walk increased little by little.
Effort does not betray. The reward for enduring training that bordered on torture every single day was clear. By the fourth week the pain in her feet and legs had vanished, and she could walk alone for roughly thirty minutes.
Of course her fundamentally weak constitution meant she still drenched herself in sweat, suffered periodic breathing difficulties, and was plagued by chronic fatigue. Physical strength required steady conditioning; no amount of short-term brutality could produce dramatic results. Still, compared to the time when she could not even hold herself upright, this was a giant leap forward.
Exactly one month later, when Blair was due to return to the main estate, Odeliana brought up the main topic.
“You want to travel?”
“…Just the two of us.”
“Don’t tell me the reason you threw yourself into rehabilitation like your life depended on it was…”
“I wanted to travel. A trip where I walk on my own two feet, together with you, Brother.”
“……”
“You have to return to the main house soon. Before then, I wanted to make a memory worth commemorating. I’ve been locked away too long; I feel stifled.”
“Have you chosen a destination?”
“Traveling far would be too much of a burden, so I thought we might go to nearby Anatolia.”
A trip between close siblings made an excellent excuse. Perhaps because she had deliberately emphasized how confined she had been and stirred his sympathy, Blair accepted without hesitation.
It was a stroke of luck amid misfortune that this place was close to Anatolia. Had she lived on the distant southern continent, she would not even have been able to attempt to find Mathias.
The current you must look far younger than when we first met in our previous life. Though the difference is only a year, growth during adolescence makes even a single year feel enormous.
Wait for me, Mathias.
I am coming to get you now.