I Became a Mesugaki (10)
Forsell stared down at Karl's bowed head, then kneaded the back of his neck.
"So what you're telling me is that some kind of Blessing descended on the young lady, and that's what happened?"
A Blessing. A special power granted by the gods so that humans could stand against the monsters lurking within dungeons.
And now Karl was claiming that he had been influenced by one—that it was what had driven him to make his mistake.
"...Yes. That's correct."
"You're not just *hoping* for that, are you? You want there to be some other reason for what you did."
To Forsell's barb, Karl had no answer at all.
Whatever influence might have been at work, Karl knew full well that it couldn't justify the wrong he had committed.
And yet, in some corner of his heart, he had been desperately wishing it wasn't entirely his fault.
He wanted it to be a sin committed against his will, swept up in whatever power Lucy possessed.
Because if it wasn't—if it truly was his own doing—then he was nothing but trash who couldn't control a single emotion and had raised his hand against his own master.
The long silence was finally broken by Forsell's sigh.
"Ha. Until your punishment is decided, you stay locked up in here."
"Understood."
"Sit quietly and behave."
After Forsell left, Karl stared at the manacles binding his arms, then buried his face in both hands and squeezed.
"They're all just minor scrapes, my lady."
"Are you certain?!"
"Yes. There's no need to worry."
"Young lady, thank goodness!"
Watching the maid sag with relief at the doctor's words, I frowned.
I told you that from the very beginning. There was no need to call a doctor. Scrapes like these would heal in a day or two.
The moment I let my irritation show, the maid, who had been beaming with joy, started carefully watching my expression.
Seeing her hunched over just like the first time we met, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her again. Ugh. Fine. It's not like it's your fault.
Worrying that the person you serve might be hurt is only natural.
I let out a sigh, pulled my gaze away from the maid, and turned to the doctor.
'So I'm free to go, right?'
"Scrub doctor. You don't need me anymore, do you?"
"That is correct, Lady Lucy."
Having secured my release, I stepped out of the infirmary to find Benedict standing beside the door, arms crossed, tapping his bicep with one finger.
What is this man even doing here?
'Benedict.'
"Dumb Papa."
"Lucy! Are you all right?! Are you hurt anywhere?!"
'I'm fi—'
"I'm fi—"
"Good heavens, why is your skin covered in so many wounds? Doesn't it sting? I'm sure it must hurt."
'Like I said, I'm fi—'
"I'm *fin—*"
"We can't let these leave scars. Physician! Prepare a salve at once!"
Why is this man so worked up? Kids get a few scrapes now and then. It's not like I was seriously injured.
The way Benedict was carrying on, you'd think I'd been run over by a truck or something.
"I hear Karl is the one who hurt you. I don't know what's gotten into him—he was never like this—but he laid hands on you, so he will pay the price."
'Um. Please calm down.'
"Dumb Papa. Enough already."
The instant I cut him off with a frosty voice, Benedict shut his mouth mid-rant and shot me a nervous look.
I know you're worried about me. And I appreciate it. But there are limits, you know.
Make him "pay the price"? What is that even supposed to mean?
Yes, he swung a fist at the person he was sworn to serve, so some punishment is fair enough—but "paying the price" is laying it on a bit thick.
Besides, the scrub knight didn't bear all the blame for throwing that punch. I had my share of fault too.
I'd been itching to land a hit on someone and had provoked him half to death with the Mesugaki skill, after all.
By any reasonable accounting, it was mutual fault. You can't pin it all on the scrub knight.
'Benedict. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine.'
"Dumb Papa. Are your eyes going bad? I'm fine."
This man's daughter-love is completely out of control. This is exactly how Lucy ended up so broken. I get that an only daughter is precious, but this is too much.
'If you punish the knight too harshly, I'll hate you for it.'
"If you do anything unnecessary to him, I won't even look at you again, Dumb Papa."
"But, Lucy—"
'Understood?'
"Dumb Papa. Answer me."
"...Understood. Still, for the sake of the knights' discipline, he must receive some punishment. I ask for your understanding on that much."
'That much is fine.'
"That much is fine."
If the person who deserved punishment got away scot-free, it would only invite murmuring and worse, so there was no helping that part.
Was it because I'd spoken so sharply? Benedict looked visibly deflated. A troll of a man who towered so high you had to crane your neck just to meet his eyes, shoulders sagging—he looked positively pitiful. Pathetic didn't even begin to cover it.
Ugh, seriously! This man is a ridiculous handful.
'Benedict. Have you had dinner yet?'
"Dumb Papa. Did you eat?"
"Hm? No, I haven't yet."
'Then let's eat together.'
"Then let's eat together. I'm starving."
"...Yes! When you're hurt, you need to eat well! I'll have my chef prepare—"
'Please, calm down.'
"Dumb Papa. You're being gross. Cool it."
Karl had been staring down at the stone floor, berating himself, when the sound of heavy footsteps in the distance made him lift his head.
Only two people in House Alrn walked with footsteps like that. One was Forsell, the Knight Commander. The other was—
The head of the Count Alrn family, the man who had distinguished himself across countless battlefields and earned the epithet Iron-Blooded Count. Benedict Alrn.
The moment Karl saw the enormous figure approaching from far off, he sprang to his feet and snapped a salute.
Benedict gave no reaction whatsoever. He simply strode in silence to the front of the cell where Karl was held.
"Karl."
At the heavy, grave voice that shook the very floor, Karl swallowed hard.
To the knights, Benedict was nothing short of a living legend.
He had stepped back from the front lines only recently, to focus on the family's affairs—but how many feats had he racked up while he still stood on the battlefield?
He had single-handedly slain the vampire known as the Vampire Duke, the monster who had drowned the continent in terror.
He had subdued, through sheer martial might, the dragon that had invaded House Alrn's territory.
He had carved out glorious merit in the subjugation of the S-rank dungeon expected to bring the kingdom to ruin. A knight among knights.
That was Benedict.
Long though he had been absent from the field, his presence had lost none of its weight.
Just standing before him made Karl feel like he was suffocating. The Intimidation Benedict exuded unconsciously was crushing down on him.
"Do you have anything to say about what happened today?"
"Nothing, my lord. It was entirely my fault."
"To harm the one you were sworn to protect is a grave sin."
"I know. Whatever punishment is handed down, I will accept it gladly."
"By rights, I should punish you according to the knights' code. However—"
The moment Benedict let his sentence trail off, the crushing pressure that had weighed on the air somehow scattered like mist.
"The Lady Lucy herself does not wish for your punishment. Therefore, Karl, your sentence shall be commuted to confinement here in this cell."
The young lady... does?
Karl doubted his own ears. That was how unreal Benedict's words sounded.
There was no reason anywhere for him to receive Lucy's mercy. Whatever the circumstances, he had genuinely raised his hand against the very person he was bound to protect.
And Lucy—the one on the receiving end of that raised fist—must surely have felt sheer, bone-deep terror.
And yet the young lady wished to forgive me.
This was grace.
Mercy extended to a man who could have been stripped of his knighthood on the spot.
And it was proof—proof that Lucy, who had spent her life tormenting everyone around her, had changed.
Ah. The young lady was worried I would be punished, and here I was, wishing that the blame could be laid at her feet.
What kind of knight does that make me?
Honor? Nobility? Karl had none of it now. He was nothing more than a wretched man who couldn't bring himself to own his own mistakes.
The one who truly behaved like a knight was not Karl. It was Lucy.
"Karl."
"Yes, my lord."
"What I just decided was the ruling of your lord. But as a father, I am another matter. I have not forgiven you yet."
With those words, Benedict opened the barred door and stepped inside the cell.
"So I'm going to hit you. Just once."
"Yes. Understood, my lord."
"Clench your teeth."
Watching Benedict ball his fist, Karl felt, for an instant, the approach of death.
What Benedict was preparing was no mere punch.
The fist of a man who had once matched a giant in a contest of pure strength, condensed with his every drop of mana, was already tantamount to a grand spell of its own.
"You won't die."
Benedict swung.
I'd been nodding off when the voice calling my name jolted me awake.
Harne, the tutor charged with teaching Lucy, studied me with eyes swimming in a cocktail of emotions, then sighed.
"The Academy entrance exams are less than three months away now, my lady. You really must apply yourself."
'I'm so sorry.'
"Shut up."
Once again, the Mesugaki translation stripped every trace of apology from my words. Thanks to this skill—wherever I say "I'm sorry," it comes out as "screw you, you hag"—the wrinkles between Harne's brows deepened a little further.
I'm sorry, Harne. Truly.
If new wrinkles bloom on your face, I'd say half of them are Lucy's fault.
But please, understand that I can't help it. I'm not doing this because I want to.
I'll track down an Elixir of Youth for you someday, so please forgive me.
"Did you not sleep well last night?"
'No.'
"Couldn't sleep, no."
"Did you have a bad dream?"
Not exactly—but something did happen.
I mean, come on. I was dead asleep when an explosion went off in the middle of the night?
I may not look it, but I'm a proud, active-duty veteran of the Republic of Korea's military, so I know exactly how much destructive power a bomb packs.
The thunderous roar and the floor-shaking tremor I'd heard last night were unmistakably the work of an explosion.
Do you have any idea how startled I was, waking out of a dead sleep like that?
I wondered if there'd been some kind of accident, so I bolted out of bed and ran to the attendant to demand what was going on.
And yet the maid was astonishingly calm. Even as I babbled every kind of nonsense in my panic, she soothed me—telling me to settle down, that it was nothing.
But when I asked her to explain what that was, she stayed stubbornly silent to the very end.
Nothing to worry about, was it? Then why won't you tell me?!
In any case, nothing else happened after that single blast, and I lay there wide-eyed for about an hour before finally drifting back to sleep.
When I explained all this to Harne, she burst out laughing.
What? What is it? Don't tell me—
'Do you have some idea what that explosion was?!'
"Dumb Harne. So you DO know something about the explosion."
"Mmhm. The fact that I told you is a secret, okay? When today's lessons end, go pay a visit to the knight order. Then you'll see for yourself."
The knight order?
"Go check on the knights"—did that mean there had been some kind of battle yesterday?
Judging by how light Harne's reaction was, it probably wasn't anything serious. Some kind of training exercise, maybe?
It would be so much simpler if she'd just come out and tell me, but Harne only kept saying it would be faster to see it with my own eyes.
Fine, then. Once class ends, I'll just have to head over to the knight order myself.
"Well then, since you seem properly awake now, shall we resume the lesson?"
At those words, delivered with a gentle smile, my lips trembled slightly.
Harne. What a terrifying woman.
Even with a mesugaki clawing at her like this, she pressed on with the lesson without batting an eye.
That was the grit worthy of the tutor who had survived longest of any, under Lucy's reign.