Ch.243EP.54 – The Knight Hate Messy Affairs (6)

[──!!]

A square sound…

“…Kuhp, it seems Mother has done it again.”

Iliad, who had paused his brush at the roar that sounded like a beast’s howl, soon realized who was in the direction of the roar and laughed pleasantly.

It was where his mother and the knight were.

“I suppose she’s telling Sir Ihan some old stories.”

“Another victim has appeared. Both the former Prime Minister and Lord Tristan screamed like that too.”

“Indeed. Well, when conversing with Mother, one often develops stress-related illnesses in various ways, ahaha!”

Iliad couldn’t help but know what was happening over there.

She was probably telling stories from the past, and Sir Ihan would be losing his mind listening to them.

“…Mother is a peculiar person. It’s natural for him to react that way since she’s quite different from others.”

Tak.

Iliad put down his brush and picked up the teacup Elza had given him.

“Rather than peculiar, her way of thinking is somewhat bizarre.”

“…It’s not Mother’s fault. She unfortunately grew up in a bizarre environment from childhood.”

“That’s…”

“Mother is just… a pitiful person…”

“……”

Iliad knew his mother better than anyone else.

Not just because she was his birth mother, but because he had drawn fairy tales inspired by her and had thoroughly investigated her entire past to create those tales.

Hence, he understood why Felinshia had no choice but to possess a “twisted temperament” different from ordinary people.

Her parents were indifferent, the adults around her were busy criticizing and despising her, and ultimately she had to live a neglected life…

In the midst of all that, the only thing that became her friend and guide was a single sword, so it was inevitable that her perception would differ from others.

“‘A female knight who doesn’t know parental affection and doesn’t know how to love others or be loved by others’ – that was definitely a line from volume 2, wasn’t it?”

“…Elza, have you read my books too?”

“I own the complete collection. In fact, I don’t think there’s anyone in the family who doesn’t have them.”

“H-How embarrassing.”

“Not at all. Thanks to those books, the peculiar and cruel actions that Lady Felinshia showed in the past are being defended. So what you did was truly remarkable, Lord.”

“Ahem…!”

…Yes, this was a secret unknown to the public, but among Iliad’s reasons for creating fairy tales inspired by his mother was not simply wanting to create fairy tales based on real stories, but also wanting to protect his mother.

‘Among Mother’s past actions, there were many dishonorable deeds that couldn’t be praised.’

His mother’s life, which was one of neglect with only her sword as her everything, was no exaggeration to say it was a series of days stained with blood.

After all, wasn’t “Battlefield Fiend” one of her epithets for a reason?

It was a cruel nickname she received for committing acts that deserved criticism without restraint, even during wartime.

Therefore, Iliad knew that it was natural for his mother to be criticized for these past actions, but nevertheless, he wanted to tell the world:

That his mother was certainly cruel, but that was simply an unfortunate outcome because she hadn’t been taught basic concepts like “kindness,” “love,” and “goodwill” by “incompetent adults.”

That it wasn’t because his mother lacked honor or nobility that she committed such acts…

“Some people extremely dislike my fairy tales because of this beautification. I hear nowadays kids call them anti-fans? Sigh, I wonder if I’ll end up getting stoned someday.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll have them all removed.”

“…I can’t possibly say such a thing.”

Criticism was something he was willing to accept.

Honestly, when he published the fairy tales, he hadn’t expected them to be very popular, but unexpectedly, they achieved tremendous success.

Therefore, Iliad didn’t get too excited or disappointed whether the fairy tales received praise or criticism.

He simply accepted it and quietly continued his next work, releasing new pieces.

“More importantly, Mother really seems to like Sir Ihan. It’s been less than a month since they met, but she’s taking care of him like this and even telling him old stories personally. Hmm, perhaps it’s because he resembles her?”

“Resembles? Do you mean that knight resembles Lady Felinshia?”

“Mother and Sir Ihan have quite a few similarities. From having some peculiarities, to being strict with themselves, and… even to lacking talent.”

“??”

Elza tilted her head in confusion, but Iliad didn’t bother to add an explanation.

This was probably something only someone with Iliad’s eye for discerning talent would notice.

‘I’ve felt it since the first day, but he really resembles Mother a lot.’

He knew it from watching his posture and the way he wielded his sword a few times.

Ah, this person’s talent is merely ordinary.

Common talent.

Probably among Ophen’s disciples, there would be an abundance of such individuals.

However, there was one thing.

This knight named Ihan had one special quality that distinguished him from those common disciples.

None other than…

‘Like Mother, he’s someone who doesn’t know how to give up.’

Just looking at his physical training showed it.

It was truly the result of training that carved away at bone and tore flesh.

It could only be the outcome of pouring endless effort into a single pursuit.

He was undoubtedly a seeker worthy of respect, just like his mother.

Also, judging from his attitude in combat…

‘He might have been through harsh organizational environments in the past, like an assassination group or mercenary band? Perhaps both. Plus, he must have experienced fierce battlefields too. His combat abilities and reactions were exactly like those of a war veteran. Hmm, was he a soldier?’

Iliad managed to deduce Ihan’s hidden background just from watching his sparring with his mother.

It wasn’t difficult.

One could learn quite a lot from a person’s calluses and posture.

…It’s just that extremely few people could do it.

‘Unlike his innate talent, he has excellent creativity and imagination. Just looking at his techniques, I can see traces of him carefully considering how to use his strong physique to the extreme.’

It was a sad quality comparable to his mother’s, but if there was one thing better than his mother, it would be his fresh ideas and his unwavering desire to challenge new paths.

‘However, such a desire to challenge is not something normal people can usually possess; he’s a peculiar case.’

Just recalling what he heard from Arno, the techniques Ihan used were clearly methods created in life-threatening situations.

The methods of a madman who had little attachment to life.

So when he first heard Ihan was visiting, he expected him to be an eccentric weirdo, but was rather surprised to find him a normal person.

That’s why he was somewhat curious.

Just what-

‘What reason could he have to live with such disregard for his life?’

Since he wasn’t a madman, to be able to do such things,

‘It’s a boldness that seems impossible unless one is living life twice. Could he really be living his life for the second time?’

…Ha!

“I have an occupational disease too. My imagination is running wild.”

“Lord?”

“Elza, bring me some more tea. My throat suddenly feels dry.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you.”

Iliad decided to take a short break to stop his idle thoughts.

It seems the recent fatigue has accumulated from working on a new piece after a long hiatus.

‘Or maybe…’

…Is it because I suddenly recalled the past?

He could still faintly hear Sir Ihan’s voice from outside, furiously scolding his mother.

Though he couldn’t hear clearly, he was probably reprimanding her.

‘Just like Mother’s comrades and friends used to do.’

But even after hearing such scolding.

‘Mother won’t change.’

Because that’s just who she was.

He wondered if he should intervene now and tell Ihan it was a waste of time, but thinking about his mother being scolded…

‘It’s somewhat satisfying.’

What you might call vicarious satisfaction?

Seeing someone else give the lecture that he should have given himself is immensely satisfying.

“Heh, I’m quite the unfilial son too.”

Iliad didn’t hate his mother, but he couldn’t deny feeling a bit of “disappointment,” which made him somewhat satisfied to see her being scolded.

“…Ah, is it over?”

That’s why he felt a bit disappointed when Ihan’s loud scolding from outside ended and his presence moved away.

Thinking it ended so quickly.

“I’m… really… a pathetic guy…”

At some point, Iliad’s consciousness began to blur, making his intention to rest briefly seem meaningless.

In the face of the drowsiness invading his consciousness, Iliad closed his eyes without resistance.

…Without any resistance at all.

*

*

*

BANG!

“I can’t get through to her, I just can’t…!”

Ihan, properly angered, vented his frustration at a large boulder.

Each time, despite its size, the boulder shattered, but only after reducing it to dust like sand did Ihan finally calm down and catch his breath.

“Damn it…”

Honestly, this wasn’t something he should get so heated about.

After all, it was someone else’s business, and there’s nothing more presumptuous than interfering in another family’s affairs.

But the reason he was angry nonetheless was:

“Why make such a big deal out of something that could be resolved with ‘one word’…”

He was certain that the tragedy that befell them in the past could have been “easily” resolved as a trivial matter, which is why his frustration reached its peak.

It was truly trivial – just a bit of conversation, or if the Sword Master had just said “one word,” such a tragedy wouldn’t have occurred.

Yet that monster doesn’t understand this.

…But the problem is that he can’t simply blame the monster because:

“The problem is that monster lady is also a victim…”

She was a victim of domestic abuse, an atypical person without normal values.

Yet, ironically, it was this atypical nature that made her an Aura user, making it impossible to simply criticize her – a situation both amusing and sad.

And more decisively, the reason he can’t bring himself to be angry at that monster is probably:

“Tsk, why are we so similar, really.”

It’s because her life resembles his own, which is maddening.

Her life reflected his previous life, and there were also aspects that connected with his life after reincarnation.

For Ihan, finding someone whose life was so similar to his own was both maddening and saddening.

Because he knew how lonely and difficult such a life was.

And also, how should he put it,

‘I’m afraid my future might be like that.’

Because they were so similar, he feared that if he ever had children, he might end up like her.

He knew it was an excessive thought, but such anxiety was unavoidable given the striking similarities.

‘No, I should try to think positively.’

He should be grateful for having a negative example.

It gives him the firm resolve not to become like that.

Ihan tried to regulate his emotions by perceiving the situation in a positive direction.

Buzz!

“What, are you trying to comfort me?”

Buzz, buzz.

“…Even getting sympathy from bees.”

Ihan felt the honeybees he had befriended over the past few days patting his shoulders as if to comfort him, and he let out a hollow laugh.

“Haa, thank you.”

Knowing these honeybees had no ill intentions, Ihan nodded.

They’re good creatures.

At first they showed hostility, but after getting a bit friendly, they now showed affection like puppies.

They were actually cuter than most bees, being plumper with fluffy fur.

“…Did you like the potion that much?”

As Ihan tilted his head wondering if they liked the potion he had gifted them, while stroking the honeybees:

“In-Instructor! Save me!”

“?”

“W-Why are there Tiger Wolf Bees here?!”

“…What are you doing?”

Ihan tilted his head as he encountered the gray-haired status window guy after a while.

The guy was surrounded by bees, looking threatened, with his hands raised in surrender.

“Why are you acting like that over mere bees?”

“H-How can Tiger Wolf Bees be just ordinary bees! They’re the officially strongest honeybees in this world that can defeat even ogres if they want to!”

“These cute little ones?”

Ihan blinked and made eye contact with the largest bee among them.

Buzz?

The honeybee tilted its body as if imitating him, and its pattern did seem different from regular honeybees, appearing somewhat like tiger stripes.

But even that appearance:

“It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“They consider those stronger than themselves as their masters, that’s why!”

“…Is that so?”

No wonder.

“So that’s why they’ve been giving me honey every day.”

Ihan scratched his cheek, realizing he hadn’t made friends but rather acquired serfs who offered him honey.

Feeling as if he had somehow threatened them.

But contrary to his guilt:

Buzzzz!

The bees simply nuzzled against his cheeks.