Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Tamed Beast (2)
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To be precise, it might be better to say that I thought the “sane” version of Arthur still held the reins.
If Arthur had lost control of his mind due to some unknown mental suppression or whatever, I wouldn’t be wandering through the forest so casually like this.
“Anyway, I know Arthur doesn’t hate me enough to hurt me.”
Of course, Arthur had glared at me a bit during our first meeting because he misunderstood me.
But if he’d truly meant to be hostile toward me, he wouldn’t have bothered coming to visit me in the hospital on the day I got hit by that rock and was admitted, leaving a get-well gift behind.
“You have a generous heart.”
“Me? Nah, not really. And I’m not saying it to hear that.”
“I see. In any case, if Arthur returns, he must apologize properly to Arma Cruise.”
Theodore’s first impression was that of a doll-like, well-behaved young master.
But the more we talked, the more I realized he had a far more stubborn side than expected.
I also learned he had insight but couldn’t use it to polish his own image, and that he became narrow-minded when fixated on something.
“The misfire must have happened during a scuffle with Arthur. But if it seems insensitive to defend him when Arma Cruise got shot, then I apologize for that too.”
“It’s fine. I’m doing this because it’s what I want anyway.”
There was a secret I couldn’t tell Theodore, one I had to keep.
Even in this situation that would make Theodore anxious, I couldn’t comfort him rashly because of that secret.
In the end, I wasn’t in a position to face Theodore with complete confidence.
We soon fell silent and headed deeper into the forest.
The sky, still holding onto the bluish hue of dawn, was brightening as morning arrived.
During the walk without conversation, with some room to focus, I vaguely picked up on a hidden context that Theodore hadn’t voiced.
It was about the mental binding on Arthur.
‘Strong signs of control. Abuse from the family?’
Putting together Theodore’s words, I could only conclude that Arthur had been subjected to excessively strong control by his family.
‘The Usher family has never produced a mage across generations. For a swordmaster with magical aptitude to be born in such a family…’
Mental bindings were curses rarely placed unless someone committed a grave sin.
They often resulted in the victim becoming a wreck.
There weren’t many ways to control a once-in-a-generation genius who’d reached adulthood, but if it had started from childhood, it wouldn’t be that hard.
It was just like how magical beasts were usually tamed and controlled from a young age—the method was the same.
“Theodore. Can I ask you something?”
“If it’s something I can answer.”
“Apart from the one from school, does your family have a restriction on you like Arthur’s?”
“Yes.”
“I see…”
Theodore’s answer revealed that neither he nor Arthur had a good relationship with their families.
I’d thought he was surprisingly calm when talking about Arthur, but it made sense if Theodore carried a similar burden.
‘Is this really normal? All the characters from my dream have family ties that are nearly severed.’
Maybe I was overthinking it.
But with me running away from home purely out of inferiority, Judith with her complicated study-abroad circumstances, Shirley and Theodore pushed out of succession struggles, and now Arthur.
It was too varied to chalk up to mere teenage rebellion.
Weren’t they essentially socially isolated like this?
-Flutter!
-Caw!
“!”
Something seemed about to happen but didn’t quite connect.
Lost in thought, I was startled by a crow flying up near my head.
I barely stopped myself from firing instinctively and wiped the sweat from my palms on my pants.
“It’s just a normal crow.”
“Normal? It seems a bit sensitive.”
Crows were smart and cautious, not the type to approach humans closely.
For one to come this close and caw loudly at this distance was clearly a threat display.
‘Is Arthur nearby?’
If small animals were on edge, wasn’t it because a predator was in the area?
I confirmed the crow, which hadn’t flown far after the threat, was still watching us, then said to Theodore.
“Theodore. Use magic if things get dicey.”
“...Understood.”
It would be great if nothing happened, but if Arthur was nearby, we really needed to stay alert from now on.
We couldn’t rule out the possibility that the Arthur we found was already a wreck.
Magic use was forbidden privately in the academy, but did that matter in a life-or-death situation?
“Don’t worry about me. If Arthur’s dangerous due to mental suppression, he won’t touch me again.”
“...‘Again’? Got it.”
“That was sleep-talk.”
“Yes.”
I’d slipped up from the tension.
Theodore hadn’t seemed to believe me from the start anyway.
Gripping my gun carefully, I began climbing what was a fairly rugged mountain path for something called the “back mountain.”
If he wasn’t here, there was a high chance he’d holed up in a cave, but even if I had a few guesses for caves, it would still be daunting.
‘Some caves have no exit, others go through... No, if Arthur really meant to escape, I wouldn’t find him. Whether he shows up or not, it’s a problem.’
There were only two reasons Arthur would appear before us.
Either he chose to, or he’d already become a wreck.
We searched the back mountain slowly, muffling our footsteps.
“Arma Cruise.”
How long had we been combing the forest like that?
Theodore called me in a low voice, stopping me.
I didn’t need to ask why; it was obvious.
I quietly aimed my gun and stared at Arthur, who had appeared before us.
‘He doesn’t look good.’
I took one step back while keeping my gun trained on Arthur.
Arthur stared at me with hazy, unfocused eyes, making no move.
His hair tips were damp with dew, as if he’d spent the night perched on a flat rock knee-high.
“How does he look?”
Theodore, who had fretted so much after I got shot that he came straight to me when I woke, now did nothing upon facing Arthur.
An unnatural silence stretched on, making it hard to guess what either was thinking.
“Let’s go.”
Had he assessed Arthur’s state?
Theodore strode toward him.
“Hey—”
As I moved in panic to block Theodore, he waved me off instead.
And the gesture of pointing at my gun then showing his palm seemed like a signal to holster it.
‘Holster it...’
Unlike Theodore, who was destined to become a great black mage, I had no other way to protect myself.
“Arthur. Let’s go back.”
Theodore took another step toward Arthur without even glancing back.
‘Reckless.’
Arthur showed no reaction to Theodore’s gentle words.
And if it wasn’t my imagination, he wasn’t paying any attention to the approaching Theodore at all.
Incredibly, Arthur’s hazy eyes were fixed on me.
-Creeeak... click.
So I decided to follow Theodore’s lead.
With him here, I couldn’t just shoot Arthur anyway.
Holding the hammer, I slowly pulled the trigger to unload.
Then I flipped the lever, broke open the barrel, and removed the loaded round.
-Gulp.
I swallowed dryly without realizing.
Arthur watched every move I made, piercingly.
Unloading, removing the round, opening the barrel to show the inside, holstering it in the chest holster—everything.
‘This is the Arthur I knew... right?’
Theodore’s judgment to disarm seemed correct; Arthur looked away from me.
The sharp, mocking attitude from festival day, meant to ridicule and insult me, was nowhere in this Arthur.
Now, he’d completely lost interest in me.
“Sorry.”
Now fully up to Arthur, Theodore jabbed a syringe he’d hidden behind his back into Arthur’s nape.
Whether he didn’t think Theodore would harm him or not, Arthur accepted the injection meekly.
“Theo...”
It was the first thing Arthur said, his voice cracking pitifully after staying silent the whole time.
“It’s okay.”
“Ethan’s dead.”
“Yeah, he is. But that’s in the past.”
“He died... and he was only five.”
“It’s all in the past.”
Wasn’t it too late?
Like a feverish child babbling nonsense, Arthur started muttering disjointedly.
‘The injection isn’t working?’
Theodore looked flustered too.
He’d injected it straight into a vein, not for drinking, yet Arthur was holding out—that meant it wasn’t effective on him.
They needed to lower his consciousness to hypnotize or whatever, but while Arthur rambled incoherently, he didn’t seem to hear Theodore.
“Arthur. Snap out of it. You have to remember who you are.”
“I’m...”
Theodore tried to coax him with what he thought were gentle words, but it wasn’t easy.
Arthur, slightly excited with his chest heaving, covered his face with his hands to suppress his increasingly ragged breathing.
“Damn it, a mere five-year-old...”
“Arthur Usher! Calm down. That was ten years ago. Your brother’s death was an accident.”
“No! You know it too.”
Now Arthur wasn’t listening to Theodore at all.
I agonized over whether to draw the pistol I’d just holstered.
Arthur kept mumbling about past events, as if possessed by something.
Like a ghost trapped in the past.
“I killed him.”
“Then I killed him too.”
From piecing together Arthur’s words, ten years ago, thirteen-year-old Arthur had a little brother eight years younger.
And it seemed he’d died in some incident involving Arthur and Theodore.
“I shouldn’t have... that fragile little guy...”
His breathing grew more labored, and Arthur entered full excitement.
That was when I grasped the structure of the mental suppression on him.
It stimulated guilt over taking a life.
“Ugh... Aah!”
“Arthur! Please!”
It might’ve been okay until now, but the curse of mental suppression on Arthur was quite advanced.
It was a hair-trigger situation where he could become a wreck any moment.
“Theodore. Sorry in this situation, but... about the restriction on Arthur. It activates if he attacks a ‘non-mage,’ right?”
Theodore was busy trying to restrain Arthur, who was clutching his head in agony.
Without waiting for a reply, I drew my gun from the holster.
“Then I’ve got a good idea. But I’ll need your help.”