The Loathsome Scapegoat C7
by berryChapter 7
Thud!
A dull impact shot through Terren’s body.
He instinctively rolled onto his stomach.
Supporting himself with arms that barely functioned, he staggered to his feet.
Another kick landed immediately afterward.
His already battered body could no longer withstand it.
Knocked back to the ground, Terren stared blankly at the people standing before him.
Then he let out a hollow laugh.
The five boys sneering down at him were all familiar faces.
Milo.
Nicholas.
Ulrich.
Hans.
Christoph.
Not merely familiar—
They were practically old acquaintances.
The very same boys who had devoted themselves to making his life miserable.
Judging by their expressions, they couldn’t have been happier to find him alone.
Had Terren simply endured their abuse without complaint, they might have grown bored.
Instead, after his regression, he’d provoked them even more effectively than before with his sharp tongue.
“Well, look who it is.”
“Our disgusting Terren.”
The red-haired boy, Milo, grinned as he lazily prodded Terren’s stomach with the toe of his boot.
The other four burst into laughter.
“You actually came outside the Academy for us?”
Why…
Why are they here, of all places, at this exact moment?
Don’t they have classes to attend?
A dull ache of anger spread through his chest.
No matter how desperately he suppressed it…
It refused to disappear.
He felt an indescribable disappointment in himself.
At his age…
He still couldn’t even control his own emotions.
For months now, he’d been suffering because of it.
When am I finally going to stop acting like an idiot?
He desperately forced down his killing intent.
“Enough.”
“Hm?”
“What was that?”
“I couldn’t hear you.”
“Say it louder.”
Milo crouched down in front of him, deliberately bringing his ear close.
“Stop picking fights.”
He wanted nothing more than to mock them mercilessly.
But this situation overwhelmingly favored his opponents.
Five against one.
Both of his arms still carried untreated wounds that throbbed painfully whenever the slightest breeze brushed against them.
And every one of them carried a real sword.
Only the Academy grounds prohibited live blades.
Outside…
Nothing stopped them.
If things escalated, they wouldn’t hesitate to rush him together.
Seeing Terren—
Who normally answered every insult with composed sarcasm—
Unable to resist…
Appearing genuinely vulnerable…
Only excited them further.
Milo swung a punch toward Terren’s head.
Or rather…
He tried to.
His fist cut through empty air.
“You insolent little—!”
Grinding his teeth, Milo lunged again as his friends surrounded Terren.
The boy who had looked so shaken only moments ago had already regained his usual infuriating expression.
Leaning casually against the tree, Terren lazily addressed the five boys surrounding him.
“Stop.”
“Didn’t you skip class for something more important than throwing punches?”
That single sentence made all five flare up.
Someone grabbed Terren by the hair.
A slap exploded across his face.
The blow was so hard that fresh blood filled his already torn mouth.
He spat it onto the ground.
Milo sneered.
“Now lick it back up.”
“Filthy commoner.”
“The world’s really gone to hell.”
“Nobles don’t have any authority left.”
“Milo, you’re too soft.”
“If you’re going to do it…”
“Teach him a real lesson.”
Terren endured it.
Causing a bigger scene would only hurt him.
Every student at the Academy was the child of a noble family.
Had this happened anywhere other than the Academy…
A single disrespectful remark would’ve been enough to earn him execution.
So…
He had to—
“Eat it.”
His face slammed into the dirt.
Unable to breathe, he struggled desperately.
But his exhausted body couldn’t overcome the stronger boy pinning him beneath a boot.
Dirt filled his mouth.
He tried desperately to spit it out.
At that moment…
A single command flashed through his mind.
Endure it.
Unless they truly intend to kill you… endure it.
“That’s right.”
“Swallow it!”
“If you’re a bug, then eat dirt like one!”
“Stop clinging to the Academy and go back where you belong!”
“…Wait.”
“What’s with his eyes?”
No matter how hard Terren tried to hide it…
The murderous intent blazing within his ash-gray eyes couldn’t be concealed.
Milo frowned.
With one hand gripping Terren’s hair…
He scooped up a handful of dirt with the other.
Then reached toward Terren’s mouth.
Terren instinctively pulled his face away.
A muffled groan escaped him as he tried to avoid the dirt—
And the tiny insects crawling through it.
Milo laughed gleefully.
Then forcefully shoved the dirt into his mouth.
A second later…
He screamed.
“Agh!”
A sudden impact had slammed into his jaw.
Terren staggered upright.
His throat convulsed, trying to expel the dirt lodged inside.
Ignoring the coughing fit…
He stepped forward without hesitation.
Then drove his foot straight between Milo’s legs.
Milo cried out and collapsed backward.
“You piece of trash— Aaaagh!”
As Milo desperately searched for the sword he’d dropped…
Terren kicked him again.
The remaining four exchanged glances.
Then…
All drew their swords at once.
The killing intent radiating from them became unmistakable.
The kind of murderous resolve born when insignificant vermin dared strike back against their betters.
This was the pine forest.
And as stated before…
Real swords were permitted here.
Why did I think this would be a safe place to rest?
Especially now…
With Lloyd’s hatred making the bullying even worse.
The Academy existed to train swordsmen.
Every noble family in Delua was, in one way or another, a family of warriors.
Naturally…
They never hesitated to draw steel.
And Terren Meyer…
Was nothing more than a disposable commoner.
Terren wanted to punch his past self.
Why am I still this stupid?
He glanced down at his battered body.
Then reached beneath his robe.
Drawing the dagger he always carried…
He spun it casually around his fingers.
A grin spread across his face.
“Well?”
“You’ve already drawn your swords.”
“So come.”
“…Or are you actually afraid?”
One of the boys attacked immediately.
Terren rolled across the ground to evade.
A style of fighting born from survival—
One those prideful nobles would never stoop to using.
His dagger slashed across the attacker’s leg.
The boy stumbled.
In an instant…
Terren pressed the blade against his throat.
“Don’t move.”
A thin line of blood appeared where the dagger touched.
The hostage burst into frightened tears.
“Stop!”
“Stop!”
“He’s trying to kill me!”
The others hesitated.
Only briefly.
The hostage soon lost consciousness as Terren tightened his hold.
The remaining boys exchanged looks.
There wasn’t an ounce of friendship among them.
“Kill him!”
They rushed him again.
Their faces twisted with rage.
Reason had completely abandoned them.
Even so…
They managed to wound Terren again and again.
Five against one.
Against the body of a weak sixteen-year-old.
Without dark magic…
He couldn’t even subdue this pack of monkeys quickly.
How pathetic.
Eventually…
Every one of them ended up with cuts across their arms or legs.
Several had even been knocked unconscious.
By the time it was over…
Quite a while had passed.
Terren stared at the battlefield surrounding him.
“…Damn it.”
Nothing ever went right.
He should return to the dormitory.
Though…
Perhaps he’d finally gone completely insane.
How else could he explain the hallucination before him?
In the distance…
A blond-haired boy stood staring at him in disbelief.
Now I’m seeing things…
Terren laughed bitterly at himself.
Attaining a strange sort of enlightenment, he kicked the unconscious Milo with all his remaining strength.
The blond-haired illusion—
Or rather…
The person who looked exactly like Leopold Delua—
Walked toward him.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“You can see it with your own eyes.”
“So why bother asking?”
Terren answered sarcastically.
Leopold strode closer.
Taking in the unbelievable scene before him…
He clenched his teeth.
“You really are something else.”
“I can’t even believe what I’m looking at.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
“This is grounds for expulsion.”
“…”
Terren Meyer no longer had the strength to argue.
His vision blurred repeatedly.
He had to keep blinking just to stay conscious.
He had no idea why Leopold was here.
Nor whether this disaster could even be cleaned up.
Without saying another word…
Terren simply tried to walk past him.
Leopold reached out and seized his wrist.
“At least explain what—”
Then…
He froze.
His hand felt something warm.
His eyes instinctively dropped.
The hand gripping Terren’s wrist…
And Terren’s entire forearm…
Were drenched in blood.
Terren’s expression tightened ever so slightly as he struggled to endure the pain.
For the first time…
Leopold could only stare at him in stunned silence.