The Loathsome Scapegoat C8

Chapter 8

What… is this?

Leopold was furious.

No—

He was disappointed.

The sight of several students lying on the ground in pools of blood around Terren reignited the resentment that had lingered since their previous conversation.

Ignoring everything Terren had said, he had grabbed his arm to demand an explanation.

But now…

Looking more closely, he realized the black robe was torn in several places and caked with dirt.

The arms hidden beneath it were covered in grotesque wounds, blood still steadily seeping through the fabric.

What… happened?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when Terren jerked his arm free and silently took a step toward the edge of the forest.

Only to be stopped again.

“Wait.”

“…”

“I said stop.”

This time Leopold seized the back of Terren’s robe.

He could feel the black-haired boy glaring at him, but ignored it.

With only a slight tug, Terren stumbled toward him far more easily than expected.

Unable to keep his balance, Terren nearly collapsed.

Startled, Leopold instinctively caught him by the shoulders and steadied him.

One side of Terren’s face was swollen bright red.

A dry cough escaped him.

“…What happened?”

“…”

“And your arms… No, you’re injured all over.”

“We’re going to the infirmary first.”

“You’re in no condition to keep walking.”

“Get lost.”

The First Prince of Delua, who had once again been cursed at without warning, looked thoroughly offended.

Ignoring Terren’s opinion entirely, he began dragging him away.

Terren Meyer, whose body had deteriorated to the point where he was practically on death’s doorstep, stumbled helplessly after him before finally snapping.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“I told you to let go.”

“What exactly do you think you’re—”

“You’ve got quite the attitude.”

“So why should I listen to you?”

So much for all that talk about equality.

The answer was laughable.

Terren opened his mouth to retort, only for a wave of dizziness to hit him.

He covered his mouth as nausea rose in his throat.

The sound of him struggling not to vomit finally made Leopold look back.

“Are you—”

“I’ll follow.”

“So let go.”

Leopold froze for several long seconds.

Then, without another word, released him.

Terren lowered his head and remained standing where he was.

Above them, the afternoon sun blazed overhead.

Neither of them moved.

Leopold felt as though someone had struck him across the back of the head.

…What am I doing?

Terren Meyer was injured.

So badly that it wouldn’t have been surprising if he collapsed at any moment.

Yet Leopold had tried to overpower him and drag him away by force.

That alone made him the villain.

Then there were those five students lying unconscious nearby.

Unless he’d completely lost his senses, it wasn’t difficult to guess how they’d ended up like that.

He bit his lip.

His face grew hot.

He rubbed absently at his own hand, now stained with Terren’s dried blood.

Why was he injured so badly?

Leopold already knew the answer.

Terren Meyer was completely isolated within the Academy.

He wasn’t blind.

He had always known that.

Which meant…

His eyes drifted to Terren’s tied-back hair.

He had noticed it before while secretly watching him from afar.

At some point, Terren had begun tying his hair back into a short ponytail.

Only after a long silence did Terren slowly raise his head.

“…Can we go?”

Leopold asked hesitantly.

Terren answered by simply walking forward.

Leopold silently fell into step beside him.

For a while…

Only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the forest.

Leaving the pine woods behind, they quietly entered the Academy.

A few students passed by, but fortunately they were all from different years.

Neither of them encountered anyone from their own class.

Terren headed straight for the dormitory.

Only to be stopped once more.

This time, Leopold’s determination was absolute.

No matter what Terren said, he refused to back down.

Frustration surged through Terren.

Unfortunately, his body no longer obeyed his mind.

In the end…

He was dragged all the way to the infirmary.

“Take off your robe.”

“…You really never know when to stop.”

Before he could even finish speaking, Leopold pulled the filthy robe off.

Terren ground his teeth.

The blood-soaked tunic beneath it came into view.

Both sleeves were stained crimson.

Leopold stared in stunned silence before finally muttering,

“Are you insane?”

“How did you end up like this?”

Terren had already given up resisting.

He answered with open sarcasm.

“Were you struck blind after watching everything happen?”

“…Those students did this?”

“What answer would satisfy Your Highness?”

“You…”

“…No.”

“Fine.”

“We’ll deal with that later.”

“First we treat your wounds.”

“You’re losing far too much blood.”

The infirmary’s healer wasn’t present.

Fortunately, this was an academy dedicated to training swordsmen.

Leopold naturally picked up a bottle of disinfectant and poured it over Terren’s arm.

The flesh where the dark magic had struck had turned an ominous dark color.

What kind of wound is this?

Unable to hide his shock, Leopold poured disinfectant over that injury as well.

Terren bit down so hard on his tongue he nearly severed it.

“Have you…”

“…lost…”

“…your mind?”

“Please…”

“…just go away.”

“The one who’s lost his mind is you.”

“How did you let yourself get this badly injured?”

Terren remained silent.

That silence made Leopold’s heart sink.

“Terren…”

“This isn’t something that happens all the time…”

“…Is it?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

“Have those boys been bullying you for a long time?”

“What difference would it make if you knew?”

“…What?”

“You’re exactly the same as always.”

“If I had to guess…”

“You’ll stay that way for the rest of your life.”

It was amusing to watch Leopold grit his teeth, struggling to contain his anger.

Yet astonishingly…

He did.

Terren watched him begin drawing a healing magic circle.

Bandages were wrapped around both arms.

The cuts on his legs were treated as well.

His pounding headache only worsened.

His vision continued to blur.

In the middle of it all, Terren found himself wondering once again just how absurd this entire situation had become.

Then Leopold’s attention shifted toward the blood seeping through the torn fabric across his back.

Terren’s voice turned icy.

“Go ahead.”

“Touch it.”

“It has to be treated.”

“You don’t think I’m incapable of casting healing magic myself, do you?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Healing magic doesn’t instantly close every wound.”

“It still needs to be disinfected first.”

“Remarkable.”

“As expected of Your Highness.”

“So meticulous.”

“So logical.”

“So perfectly righteous.”

His provocations struck much harder in this life than they had before.

Leopold abruptly fell silent.

His lowered eyelids betrayed the effort it took to suppress his emotions.

For just a moment…

He looked every bit like the sixteen-year-old boy he truly was.

Running a hand through his disheveled blond hair, he spoke quietly.

His large aqua-blue eyes trembled ever so slightly.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Talking like that won’t help you.”

“Then try listening to what I’m actually saying.”

“No—”

Leopold threw the roll of bandages into Terren’s lap.

“Fine.”

“Have it your way.”

Apparently genuinely irritated, he stepped backward and sat down on the bed opposite him.

Watching Leopold lose his composure had always been enjoyable.

Terren leaned comfortably against the wall behind the bed, looking thoroughly satisfied.

Sleepiness slowly overtook him.

Just as he closed his eyes…

Leopold spoke again, his tone noticeably sharper.

“When did those boys start bullying you, Terren Meyer?”

“…”

“…That’s an order.”

“Answer me.”

Terren couldn’t understand why he had ended up in this situation.

The longer he spoke with this prince…

The more his own murderous intent grew.

That was why he’d gone out of his way to avoid him.

Yet on the very day he escaped the Academy to relearn dark magic…

He had been provoked.

Drawn into a sword fight with his classmates.

And somehow crossed paths with Leopold Delua again.

His condition was the worst it had ever been.

A persistent ringing filled his ears.

Still…

The prince’s relentless voice refused to stop.

“…Now you’re ignoring me too.”

“Though, I suppose you’ve always done that.”

“But I can’t overlook this anymore.”

“I’m the Crown Prince.”

“Even if I weren’t, I’m still your classmate.”

“And constantly insulting a classmate is incredibly rude.”

“So—”

Please…

Shut up.

Terren cursed inwardly.

Then Leopold’s next words made him pause.

“Please answer me.”

“I need to know what really happened before I can decide what to do.”

“No matter how much you hate me…”

“…You need to be sensible.”

“All right?”

Leopold smiled.

Sixteen was still an age of innocence.

Watching that young boy struggle to keep the corners of his mouth from trembling…

Watching his eyes shake despite his carefully maintained smile…

Terren couldn’t fail to notice.

There was hurt hidden behind that expression.

The smile itself was flawless.

But Terren Meyer knew that only Leopold’s extraordinary self-control made it possible.

Even the gentle tone he forced himself to use carried tiny, unavoidable thorns.

The fingers of his right hand rubbed restlessly against one another.

…Ha.

A laugh escaped him.

What an idiot.

Twenty-six years old… and still this pathetic.

A deep sense of humiliation spread through his body.

Suppressing the violent mana churning inside him, Terren finally asked in an even voice,

“If I tell you…”

“…What exactly are you going to do about it?”

Leopold’s eyes widened.

The softened gaze…

The faint hope brightening his expression…

Looked nothing like the final image Terren still remembered from his previous life.