The Weight of Truth
“……What are you doing after hearing Sigrid’s words?”
I asked Berian, who was under hypnosis.
Until now, Berian had spoken quite clearly even while hypnotized. His high hypnotic susceptibility was likely the reason.
But this time was different. Upon hearing my question, Berian began to tremble violently, as if seized by a fit.
“U-ugh… ugh… F-Fireball. Fireball……!”
Even suggestions of safety and comfort had no effect.
“F-Fireball. Fire! It’s fire……!”
Berian shook his head from side to side.
Eventually, mana began to gather in his hands, and a sphere of flame materialized.
Having confused illusion with reality, he was attempting to cast Fireball in the real world as well.
“Berian!”
I called his name urgently.
While he was under hypnosis, I had only referred to him as “you.” I had planted the suggestion that calling him “Berian” would wake him from the trance.
The moment I spoke his name, the man who had been screaming “Fireball!” and “It’s fire!” went limp, like a robot whose power had been cut. His pale skin made him look almost like a corpse.
Yet he had not completely lost consciousness. His body still twitched convulsively at intervals.
I administered Lullaby of the Mist to the unconscious Berian. Only then did the spasms cease, and he fell into a deep sleep.
“Haa……”
I let out a long sigh and looked at him. My heart was still pounding violently.
I could read other people’s emotions well. I had been designed that way.
I could analyze emotions technically by reading the flow and particle shape of mana, detect intense feelings such as hostility or killing intent through the scent of released mana, and interpret nonverbal cues like facial expressions and tone of voice.
And sometimes, I simply felt them.
Even when I had no intention of reading them, other people’s emotions would wash over me.
Occasionally, waves of emotion would crash violently into my mind whether I wanted them to or not.
This was one of those moments.
I could feel Berian’s emotions—the guilt, anxiety, anger, and terror he had experienced when forced to kill Juvik, his own disciple in all but name.
The emotions were so excruciating that I found myself wanting to choose death just to escape them. It was truly that intense.
Now I understood why Berian had developed pyrophobia along with PTSD.
I could tell Berian everything I learned through hypnosis. His memories would return, and the pyrophobia might even be cured. But……
After the flood of emotions finally receded and I regained my composure, I fell into thought.
……Would Berian be able to endure this memory?
If Berian possessed a strong personality, he would face and overcome it. The trauma response would fade as he confronted the memory, and eventually he would conquer his pyrophobia as well.
Of course, he would need the help of potions like Clear Mind Elixir or Embrace of the Night.
The problem is if Berian cannot endure this memory.
If he failed to overcome it, his trauma response would become even more severe than before. His pyrophobia would intensify as well.
In the worst case, Berian could die. Overwhelmed by guilt, he might make an irreversible choice.
Is a cruel truth better, or a comfortable lie?
That question again.
I had to treat Berian. The letter from the kingdom weighed on my mind, and above all else, there was a significant sum of money at stake in this case.
From a rational—or perhaps selfish—perspective, it would be better to tell him the truth despite the risks. Without knowing the truth, Berian’s pyrophobia would not heal easily.
But if, upon learning the truth, Berian made an extreme choice and died because of my poor judgment…
Could I bear that guilt……?
Knock, knock, knock.
Just as my thoughts grew deeper, someone knocked on the counseling office door.
I had scheduled only Berian for today. No other clients were expected.
It did not seem to be an uninvited guest like last time, either. I detected no scent of killing intent or hostility, and the knock was polite.
Still, I could not let my guard down completely. Maintaining only the bare minimum of tension, I opened the door.
The moment I saw who stood there, a laugh escaped me.
“It’s been a while, Naikle.”
“Yes, it really has, Doctor.”
* * *
Naikle’s purpose for visiting was simple.
“Please take this.”
“No, this is……”
“It should come to about a hundred thousand leons. I wanted to express my gratitude, however small.”
Naikle handed me an envelope of money.
A hundred thousand leons was roughly equivalent to the advance payment I had received from the kingdom.
“Where did you get so much……?”
“You already know, Doctor. Gwangrang works as an unofficial investigator for the Public Security Bureau. It turns out…… it pays quite well.”
Naikle formed a circle with her index finger and thumb while speaking.
A smile appeared on her lips, revealing a particularly sharp canine tooth.
When I first met her, Naikle had looked as though she might collapse at any moment.
She no longer did. Her timid and introverted nature remained, but her eyes now held a quiet resolve and determination.
Naikle straightened her posture and continued.
“Are you busy right now?”
“I was in the middle of speaking with a client.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Naikle’s face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll be on my way, then……”
“No, I have a moment to talk. There’s something I’d like to ask you as well.”
“Is that so?”
Naikle’s expression brightened visibly.
She had clearly wanted to speak with me. After coming all this way, she probably had no intention of simply handing over the envelope and leaving.
I looked at her steadily.
She tilted her head, puzzled by my gaze. I had once read in a book that werewolves occasionally displayed dog-like mannerisms. This was exactly that.
“First of all…… I’m glad you seem to be doing better, Naikle.”
“It’s thanks to you, Doctor. I’ve been wanting to thank you. I’ve been busy with work for a while.”
“I saw the news a few times. You’ve become quite the celebrity. Both you and Gwangrang.”
As a Public Security investigator, she had not only dismantled the Castalnus organization but had also eradicated the drug trafficking and human trafficking rings that had long plagued Lumière.
That alone was extraordinary, yet it only accounted for her official activities. When including the unofficial work of Gwangrang, Naikle’s achievements were nothing short of legendary.
“I also heard that thanks to you and Gwangrang, the crime rate in Lumière has dropped by more than half.”
“It’s embarrassing. I didn’t really do anything that impressive……”
“You even gained a rather impressive nickname, didn’t you?”
“Ah, aah! Please don’t bring that up! You said you had something to ask me, so let’s talk about that instead!”
Naikle hurriedly tried to change the subject.
It was understandable.
She had refused every interview request from the press and quietly continued her work as a Public Security investigator.
She had probably rejected them all simply out of embarrassment.
Yet the newspapers had taken it upon themselves to praise her with odd nicknames such as “The Silent Valkyrie” and “The Public Security Bureau’s Sharp Flower.”
……Director Justin probably had a hand in this. He must have wanted to spread the bureau’s reputation.
Even to an outsider like me, the nicknames were embarrassing enough. I could understand why Naikle herself reacted so strongly.
I was tempted to tease her a little more, but if I pushed too far she might actually get angry.
Deciding to end the small talk, I moved on to the main topic.
“It’s about the client I’m currently treating.”
I explained only the general circumstances without revealing the full details. I made sure she understood only that I faced a choice between a cruel truth and a comfortable lie.
“I’d like to hear your opinion. You’ve been in a similar situation yourself.”
“Yes. I was the one who heard the cruel truth.”
“That’s right. If it’s not too presumptuous, may I ask how you endured that truth?”
Naikle gazed into the empty air, as though recalling the past.
“……It was hard. It really was.”
Her expression gradually darkened.
“I…… didn’t know too many things. I didn’t know my father had tried to attack me, that Gwangrang had killed him, or that Castalnus had been after me.”
“That’s true.”
“After learning all the truth, honestly…… I wanted to die.”
Naikle continued in a calm voice.
“It was difficult to endure the entire truth. Especially the truth about my father…… it was too hard to bear……”
A faint light flickered in her once-empty eyes.
“……But it wasn’t the truth itself that made things difficult. Thinking back, it was hard even when I didn’t know. I was trapped in the foolish fear that Gwangrang would take over my body, and I pushed myself too hard because of it.”
“You refused to sleep so that Gwangrang wouldn’t seize control.”
“Yes. That’s why I suffered from chronic fatigue and sleep deprivation.”
Naikle lowered her gaze, then lifted it again to meet mine.
“Looking back, whether I knew or not wasn’t the real issue. When I didn’t know, I suffered because I didn’t know. When I knew, I suffered because I knew.”
Naikle smiled, revealing her canine tooth. It was a fierce smile, yet somehow endearing.
“I think it’s better to know. If I’m going to suffer either way, I’d rather suffer while knowing everything.”
“I see.”
“I feel like I only gave unhelpful answers.”
“No, it was helpful.”
“I should get going. You’re still working, and I have my own schedule……”
On her way out, she suddenly turned her head as if remembering something.
“Oh, Gwangrang said she wanted to see you too. She mentioned she’d come by when she has time. Would that be all right?”
“Of course. You’re both always welcome.”
“It would’ve been nice if she could have come with me today, but unfortunately I’m not in a position to do that.”
Naikle smiled as she spoke. I scratched the back of my head and smiled as well. It was the kind of joke I didn’t quite know how to respond to.
“See you next time.”
After Naikle had completely left the counseling office, I fell into deep thought.
Berian had gone through something horrific. Enduring it would not be easy.
If I irresponsibly told him the truth believing he could handle it, something terrible might happen. In the worst case, Berian might take his own life.
Yet Naikle’s words also made sense.
If suffering came whether one knew or not, then perhaps it was better to suffer while knowing.
Chirp, chirp-chirp.
While I was still deep in thought, a familiar bird call came from beyond the window.
Someone had sent me a letter using a giphon.
When I opened the window, a pigeon enhanced with magic for speed and intelligence greeted me.
The pigeon placed the letter it had been carrying in front of me, then flew off like an arrow.
I widened my eyes upon seeing the recipient’s name.
It was an entirely unexpected sender.
To Mr. Kain, the counselor treating Mage Berian,
— Sigrid
I write this letter in haste, as I have something to say and a request to make. By the time this letter reaches you, I will likely no longer be of this world……
It was a suicide note.
Berian, who had killed his disciple Juvik, and Sir Dalmon, who had killed his lover-like companion Garsha, must have been deeply shocked.
Adjutant Sigrid would have been no less affected.
To cover up the incident, he had killed his own subordinate, filed a false report to his superior, and then spent sleepless nights tormented by unease.
It must have felt like his mind was being eaten away day after day.
It was a situation in which one might think death would be preferable.
Unless one possessed extraordinary mental fortitude, enduring it would have been nearly impossible.
“Mr. Kain, is it over……?”
At that moment, Berian—who had been put to sleep with Lullaby of the Mist—woke up and stepped into the counseling office. His voice was still hoarse with sleep.
I asked hurriedly.
“Berian. Do you know where Adjutant Sigrid lives?”
“Adjutant Sigrid……?”
Berian blinked in surprise.
“I do, but why all of a sudden……?”
“Adjutant Sigrid sent me a suicide note.”
“A suicide note? W-why would he……? Why would Adjutant Sigrid send something like that……!”
Berian’s eyes widened in shock, and he began to stammer.
He looked deeply shaken. It was only natural.
But now was not the time to wait for Berian to compose himself.
There was something more urgent.
“Adjutant Sigrid may still be alive.”
Giphons had no delayed-delivery function. Once a letter was placed in a special pigeon’s beak, it was delivered straight to its destination.
In other words, Sigrid had still been alive when he sent this suicide note.
“We have to save him.”