Chapter 14 – Look at Me. See Me. (2)

Just after sunrise, my father returned, his face grim. He had somehow heard about the… incident.

“Cariel. Did you really have to go that far?”

The question was absurd. Did I have to?

“What was I supposed to do? Stand there and let her beat me? What would you have said then?”

“Patina wouldn’t have taken it that far. I know you both lost your tempers, but—”

“How can you be so sure? She clearly enjoys taking her frustrations out on me.”

“That’s because she has high expectations for you. She always has.”

“Who asked her to? What did she ever see in me to justify those expectations?” The conversation was pointless, only fueling my anger.

“I understand tempers flare. But… your mother… she shouldn’t have seen that.”

“You said injuries were part of training. Isn’t this what you meant? To treat every fight like it’s real?” My left hand, mangled just hours ago, was perfectly healed. My right hand, too. A few touches from my mother, and the damage was erased.

“Using such extreme measures in a practice match… You knew Ermina would heal you. You relied on it. You thought it was better to hurt yourself, to make a point, than to simply… talk to her.”

“What are you—” I started, but he cut me off.

“You knew she would fix it. You wanted her to see. A demonstration, more effective than words. You calculated the risk, and you took it. Am I wrong?”

“That’s ridiculous…!” No. Not entirely. There might have been… a sliver of that… in my calculations. But it wasn’t a conscious decision, not really. But if that’s how they interpreted it… so what? It had worked. Seeing their expressions, their shock, their… disappointment… it had been worth it.

“That was incredibly reckless, Cariel. What if Ermina had been too shocked to heal you properly? What if…” He trailed off, sighing heavily. “Don’t do that again.”

“……”

“And you need to apologize. To both your mother and Patina.”

Apologize?

“Why should I apologize?”

“What…?” His golden eyes widened, a flicker of genuine surprise.

“Was I in the wrong?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“What did Patina say?”

“……” He hesitated.

“She took full responsibility. Said it was her fault. Offered to resign from the Knight Order.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Cariel…” She said that? A flicker of… concern… quickly extinguished. So what? She brought it on herself.

Why should I feel guilty? Why am I always the one expected to apologize?

–Because you’re too kind, little bird. Too selfless. You prioritize their pain over your own.– The Demon King’s voice echoed in my mind, a mocking whisper. She lounged in the air beside me, a cruel smirk twisting her beautiful features. –It’s not a flaw, not exactly. But it is a weakness. And those around you… they’re not afraid to exploit it.–

–A true knight values honor above all else. But for a thief… even a treasure is just… trash. Worthless.– She cackled, a sudden, jarring sound. What was that supposed to mean?

“What are you talking about?”

–Let it go, little bird. The past is the past. What’s done is done. The future is yet to come. All you have is… now.–

–Oh, woe is me! The weakling Cariel! So burdened by guilt!– She sat up, a dramatic flourish. –Let it go. Or… take a nap. The moon has set. It’s the time of the sun, now.– And with that, she vanished, phasing through the wall.

I sighed. Irresponsible…

Sleep was impossible. But I had no motivation, no desire to do… anything. Just… endure. As always.

====

Beyond the walls, unseen, the Demon King observed the scene unfolding within the house. Luelde, his face etched with worry, questioned Patina, who stood before him, her expression a mixture of shame and… something else. Defiance? Loyalty? Ermina sat nearby, eyes closed, hands clasped in prayer, a picture of quiet despair. Luelde glanced at her, his expression softening, then returned his attention to Patina. The hero, comforting his wife and subordinate, looked utterly exhausted.

Still unbroken. Even in defeat, he refused to yield. Luelde. Of all the heroes, he was the only one who had truly… impressed her.

That… infuriating resilience.

The Nine Heroes. Once, there had been more. But these nine… they had endured, their spirits forged in the fires of war. They should have broken, but they hadn’t. They had only grown stronger.

And yet…

The scars remained. Ermina, the Saintess. Once a naive, innocent girl, molded by the Church, now a woman consumed by guilt and anxiety, a prisoner of her own past. Post-traumatic stress, most likely.

“He told me not to expect anything from him! But… even if his methods are extreme… he put me in a difficult position! How can I not expect anything from him, after… that?”

“Patina. What are you trying to say?”

“He’s hiding his strength, pretending to be a failure… but he is trying. In his own way.”

“Patina, please. Calm yourself and get to the point.”

A quiet voice, filled with despair. “Is this my fault? If I had saved more… if I hadn’t been so… inadequate… would he have turned out this way? I should be the one atoning… why… why is he suffering? Father in Heaven, I don’t understand… if it’s my fault… take me… take my life…”

“Ermina…”

“My Lady! Please! Don’t say such things! What would Sir Luelde and I do without you? You saved us… please…”

The Demon King chuckled softly. What a mess.

Despite their pleas, Ermina’s eyes remained dull, lifeless.

“Isn’t it… strange? He wasn’t like this when he was younger. He was… a blessing. We did everything we could… to raise him right. When he went away, as a hostage… for the princess, for the Empire… he was so… brave…”

“……” Luelde said nothing, a wise decision.

“Was it… the incident… five years ago?”

The question, sudden and sharp, hung in the air.

“That…” Luelde’s face twisted, a flicker of… pain? Ermina opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Five years ago… I didn’t know the details, but I could guess. Cariel’s fragmented memories, the whispers and rumors… it wasn’t difficult to piece together a general idea. But this was more than just misplaced expectations, more than simply underestimating or overestimating him. And I didn’t have the full picture. Assumptions are dangerous. Even if they were 99% accurate, that 1% of uncertainty… it could change everything.

“We’ve seen it countless times, Luelde. Children of privilege, squandering their inheritance, betraying their families, destroying the legacies of their ancestors.”

“……” Luelde nodded slowly.

“In times of chaos, when the world falls into darkness, they seek only pleasure, abandoning their duty, their honor, even their faith. We couldn’t let Cariel become… one of them. Never.”

Hmm. I had seen it myself, countless times. The privileged, betraying their own people, their own nations, to save themselves. A pragmatic choice, perhaps, when faced with overwhelming force. I had been… relatively merciful. Surrender, and I offered… protection. But defiance… that was met with swift, brutal retribution. War was war. And the demons had their reasons, their justifications, for their hatred of the mortal realm. Not that it mattered anymore.

“He’s just… lost, Commander. His wounds… they haven’t healed.”

“Patina…” Her voice was tight with emotion, her gaze almost… frantic. She, too, was suffering.

“He said… ‘What right do you have to be disappointed?’” Luelde repeated Cariel’s words, his voice quiet, thoughtful. He seemed to be ignoring the others, focusing only on that single phrase.

“We haven’t been… easy on him, but… was it… too much?”

“Luelde?”

“Commander…?”

“Perhaps…” He looked tired, his usual confidence replaced by a flicker of… doubt? “Perhaps I haven’t… paid him enough… attention.”

Ermina’s eyes widened. “Attention? But we’ve given him… so much…”

Oh? I chuckled softly. He had stumbled upon the answer. But would it lead to salvation, or ruin?

The damage is done. How can you possibly fix this?

And Ermina, still clinging to her delusions of adequacy, completely missed the point. Was it the pregnancy, clouding her judgment? Or something more… fundamental? She showered Cariel with attention, yes, but she didn’t understand the nature of that attention. The difference between discipline and affection. Between control and support.

He’s her child. I knew how she treated outsiders. I had used that knowledge against her, manipulating her compassion, her empathy, to break her spirit. And yet, she had never blamed me. She had forgiven, even… understood. Which made it all the more ironic that she couldn’t extend the same grace to her own son.

She believes strictness is the answer. Guidance through… force. Not entirely wrong, but not entirely right, either. If they had only sought help, guidance from someone… anyone…

Foolish. Such a simple problem, and yet… they couldn’t see it. Compared to facing me, this was… child’s play. Why did these brilliant minds become so… blind when it came to their own families?

Well… not my problem. I’m just an observer. Let them stumble, let them fall. Let their carefully constructed world crumble into dust. I couldn’t care less.