Chapter 113: They Knew It All Along

He startled, quickly adjusting his collar.

To think he’d been standing before the Emperor with his clothes in disarray. Of course, after being covered in blood before, it felt like too little, too late… Still, making an effort was vastly different from not caring at all.

…Where did my button even go? He made a few futile attempts to neaten the collar near his missing button before giving up and cautiously glancing at the Emperor.

Fortunately, the Emperor seemed to understand his embarrassment, tactfully changing the subject.

“Check his wrist too. The bone was dislocated. I reset it, but there might still be issues.”

***

The Demon King’s curse weakened the body. The increased frequency of coughing up blood was a testament to that. That was the extent of Cruel’s knowledge about the curse.

Despite this, Deon’s continued, seemingly unimpaired movement made Cruel wonder if the information was wrong, or if it was due to a desperate effort to hide his weakness.

Cruel, and indeed everyone present, watched Deon Hart hastily try to conceal the mark and leaned towards the latter conclusion.

‘He coughed up blood, yet he glossed over it, presenting his wrist as the problem instead,’ Cruel observed.

He casually wiped the blood on his hand against his sleeve.

He was trying to downplay and conceal his real weakness, the blood cough, by presenting a lesser one that had already been treated and was of little consequence.

He wasn’t drunk, nor was he being overly dramatic. The Emperor seemed to notice this as well, pretending not to see while instructing the court physician to examine the wrist.

“Since the bone is already set, there’s no additional treatment needed. I’ll apply a bandage, so please refrain from using your wrist for a while. And…”

The physician trailed off. He seemed about to say more, but then fell silent, gazing at Deon with tearful eyes. The way he clasped Deon’s hand in both of his clearly showed his concern.

His sentiment was understandable, but this was inappropriate. He was exposing what they were both trying to hide.

Someone needed to stop him. However, Cruel couldn’t move. The Duke was watching. He had already done more than enough to raise suspicion, and any further action would be too risky for his future plans.

Instead, he looked at the Emperor. Thankfully, the Emperor seemed to share his thoughts, quietly calling the physician.

“You’ve done well, you may leave. And Honorary Count Hart, you should return and rest.”

“…Thank you for your consideration.”

Deon turned to leave. As if wanting to prove his well-being, he declined the offer of his personal knight to assist him, walking out of the room confidently on his own two feet.

Senze, Cruel’s subordinate, entered at that moment, glancing at Deon before turning his gaze to Cruel. While looking at him, he subtly clenched and unclenched his fist, causing Cruel to pause.

‘…His condition isn’t good.’

Was this necessary?

It was a meticulously planned opportunity. He had people watching him constantly, and finally, the moment had arrived. He knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance without even needing to experience it firsthand.

To execute the plan, or to postpone it.

…His hesitation was brief. Cruel surveyed the gradually calming scene and approached Senze. He felt the Duke’s gaze on him but didn’t betray it.

“Tell Deon not to wander around tonight and go straight home.”

He knew.

He knew this was a rare opportunity.

***

From the moment Deon Hart was subdued by the Emperor to his departure from the banquet hall.

Stigma Primiero, the instigator of it all, quietly lowered his gaze, lost in thought.

As the situation calmed and he had some breathing room, he noticed something.

Junior, Deon Hart’s drunken behavior.

‘It’s familiar.’

There was something oddly familiar about it.

Such aggressive drunken behavior was rare. Why did it feel so familiar?

He could have easily dismissed it, but something about it nagged at Stigma, making him unusually persistent. He replayed the earlier scene, mentally rewinding and scrutinizing every detail.

—Something the Emperor said caught his attention.

“[It’s time to come back to reality.]”

“[This isn’t a battlefield.]”

…Ah.

Drunkenly searching for an enemy. The Emperor’s words to bring him back to his senses.

Stigma had experienced countless battles in the South. He was likely the most battle-hardened active Hero. He knew these symptoms better than anyone.

‘This isn’t just drunken behavior.’

There were common symptoms among those who experienced war, got injured, killed, or witnessed death.

The range of symptoms was broad and diverse, making it impossible to list them all, but some included hallucinations, aversion to crowded places, and becoming extremely aggressive or depressed and lethargic.

In the case of aggressive symptoms, the individual might perceive everyone as an enemy, or—

—become fixated on finding an ‘enemy’.

Stigma identified this as ‘Post-traumatic Stress Disorder,’ or PTSD for short.

‘Right. He was thrown into a battlefield at such a young age. It would be stranger if he were fine.’

Unlike physical trauma, mental trauma was untouchable. Even the affected person might not know its extent or severity, making it difficult to handle. Often, the trauma lingered, severely impacting daily life.

He’d heard Deon Hart went to the battlefield at the age of fourteen. A time when his mind wasn’t fully developed.

‘So, you’re human after all.’

There was no disappointment, only admiration.

The fact that these symptoms only surfaced when his mental fortitude was weakened by alcohol meant that he possessed an astonishing level of willpower to suppress it while sober.

The more he learned about his junior, the more intriguing he became.

A subtle smile played on Stigma’s lips as his admiration for Deon Hart grew.

***

He practically fled the banquet hall. Lien offered to assist him, but he declined. Instead, he gave him other instructions.

“[No, I’m fine. Instead, please prevent anyone from following me. Like our knights, or Dan over there… Huh? Dan? What are you doing here… Oh, right, I brought you.]”

“[Count…?]”

“[Understood.]”

“[Sir Lien? Wait a minute. Count! You forgot your robe!]”

“[…Sir Lien, let him through.]”

“[Yes, sir.]”

That’s roughly how things unfolded with Dan’s unexpected appearance.

Lien readily sent Dan ahead while he dealt with their knights who were catching his scent and trying to follow. He faintly heard someone nearby protesting and getting hit, but he couldn’t turn back.

He had made eye contact with Dan. Ugh, could he please get rid of that disappointed look?

“…It was the alcohol. It wasn’t intentional. I just temporarily forgot because of the drink.”

“I see.”

“…Sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Please put on your robe.”

He held the robe out helpfully, as if offering to assist him in putting it on.

The gesture reminded him of someone familiar, causing him to fall silent for a moment. …Probably just his imagination?

“Um… It’s okay, I can put it on myself.”

“It’s my duty to assist you.”

“…Ed?”

“Who is that?”

He detected a familiar scent on this unfamiliar… no, not very close man.

As he made a sour face, thinking of Ed, his adjutant from the Demon Realm, Dan seemed to flinch before his expression hardened as if he wouldn’t back down.

He wished he’d show such unwavering determination in other situations.

“This is my way of apologizing, so please don’t feel burdened.”

“Apologizing…?”

“For daring to test Master.”

“…?”

I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Testing? When did that happen?

Anyway, judging by the atmosphere, he wouldn’t yield. Guess he just wouldn’t wear the robe then.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t really need the robe. It’s night anyway…”

“That’s not the issue. Are you going to walk around with your chest exposed like that?”

Ah, he reflexively touched the exposed area of his collar. The Demon King’s mark was there.

He was running his fingers over it when Dan continued.

“And what about your striking appearance? White hair and red eyes are practically your trademarks.”

“…Fine. Give it here.”

“Allow me to assist you.”

“……”

Did he put honey on my clothes?

Regardless, he couldn’t refuse any longer and resigned himself to being helped with his coat. Being attended to by someone who wasn’t a servant, wasn’t that close to him, and somehow reminded him of Ed felt strange, but he was satisfied that it would get rid of this persistent guy.

Finally alone.

‘Initially, I just wanted to be alone because I was embarrassed…’

Judging by his disheveled state and the mess in the banquet hall, he must have done something while drunk.

Some realities couldn’t be denied.

He couldn’t remember what happened, and he didn’t have the courage to delve into it, but the visible evidence was mentally battering him.

He certainly felt that way…

‘…But now I just want to be alone because I’m mentally exhausted…?’

Dan, you rascal.

If his plan was to completely distract him and overshadow his embarrassment, it was a resounding success.

Just thinking about Dan made his head throb. He should think about something else. What happened while he was drunk at the banquet…

‘Not that!’

The forgotten embarrassment surged back. He needed to think of something else…!

…Right, the court physician. Let’s think about the court physician who examined him. He didn’t just examine him; he did something peculiar.

‘At first, I thought he was just holding my hand.’

He was writing on his palm with his finger. He couldn’t believe it when he deciphered it.

“[Didn’t I tell you to take care of your health!]”

He even wrote the exclamation mark clearly.

Oh… right… He also gave him some restorative medicine…

He was dumbfounded when he saw the man’s tearful gaze, giving him goosebumps. Why was someone his age acting like this…

Thankfully, the Emperor intervened at the right moment, or he might have thrown a punch if he had lingered any longer.

‘Ah, damn it.’

Instead of calming down, his mind was even more chaotic. He’d chosen the wrong memory to focus on.

He rubbed his arms, feeling the lingering goosebumps, and quickened his pace. He needed to go home and rest.

“Honorary Count Hart?”

“… ?”

What was it? He was tired. Who was it?

“Greetings, I am Senze, serving Cruel Hart-nim. I have come to convey a message from Cruel-nim.”

“……”

What was Lien doing, not stopping this guy?

…Ah, he told him to stop the mad dogs. He didn’t have multiple bodies; it was understandable that he might miss one.

A message from Cruel… What nonsense was he about to spout? He nodded, signaling him to go ahead.

“He said not to wander around tonight and go straight home.”

“…What?”

For a moment, he doubted his ears.

What was this? Was he acting like his guardian? What was his agenda?

He looked at him, hoping for some explanation, but the guy vanished without answering his unspoken question. Just like his superior, he was infuriatingly annoying. Ptooey.

‘…Okay, let’s get back to the main point.’

Stay calm, and think.