MTO C102
by berryChapter 102
“It wasn’t long before rumors spread that a dreadful plague had broken out within the ducal castle. In the end, he succeeded in erasing her sin from this world.”
Though he had barely touched his wine, Michel felt his stomach churn.
He no longer wanted to hear this story.
No…
More than that, he did not want Kaidan to keep telling it.
“At this point, you’re probably wondering why his son was allowed to live.”
“Kaidan.”
“The son survived only because he promised to forget everything he had witnessed that day. Leaving behind both his mother’s death and all those innocent people who died because of his parents’ sins, he fled his homeland.”
Michel called his name in an attempt to stop him.
Instead, Kaidan’s voice only grew louder.
As though he intended to force Michel to hear the story to its very end.
“That coward who ran away swore he would never become like his father. He despised those hypocritical nobles and devoted himself to undoing everything his father had destroyed. He believed—without question—that he was different from that madman.”
“……”
“And then one day…”
“The messenger of God descended before him and said this.”
Kaidan lifted his eyes to meet Michel’s.
Though he remained seated, Michel found it difficult to breathe.
Kaidan’s eyes resembled a winter night upon a snow-covered mountain.
Cold.
Bottomless.
Terrifyingly empty.
“You resemble your father very much.”
Michel felt as though he were falling into that endless darkness.
Kaidan’s voice echoed from within it.
“The son was ashamed.”
“He was furious.”
“He suspected that some ignorant fraud was merely flattering him to gain his favor.”
“But the man turned out to be a genuine Saint.”
“And not a single word he spoke was wrong.”
Michel wanted to explain himself.
He had never meant those words in such a cruel way.
At the time, he had believed the former Duke of Eglance had been a good father.
He had envied Kaidan.
He wanted to know what it was like to have a loving parent, to hear stories about the bond between father and son.
Had he known the truth…
He never would have uttered a single word about the former Duke in Kaidan’s presence.
“Kaidan… when I said that, I…”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
Kaidan interrupted him quietly.
“By then, you had already seen through my true nature.”
Michel frowned faintly.
“…Your true nature?”
“Yes.”
“My true nature.”
“Back then… and even now…”
“I’m nothing more than a pathetic coward.”
Michel could not understand.
The word coward did not suit Kaidan in the slightest.
He was a hero who had marched onto battlefields while still young and led countless wars to victory.
A knight capable of slaying dozens of monsters.
In the future that would now never come to pass, Kaidan would stand alone against an army of monsters to protect this land until death claimed him.
Who could possibly call such a man a coward?
Yet Kaidan remained buried beneath a crushing burden of self-loathing.
“When Viscount Casenail was condemning that child…”
“My only concern was calming his anger.”
“I didn’t spare a single thought for the child.”
“He was one of Valois’s most important trading partners.”
“……”
“And not just Casenail.”
“Every noble in that hall was someone whose goodwill mattered to the future of this territory.”
“At that moment, pleasing those nobles seemed more important than checking whether one child was safe.”
“I convinced myself it was for Valois.”
“That…”
Michel hesitated.
How was he supposed to respond to such a confession?
Did it hurt to hear that Kaidan had cared more about appeasing the nobles than protecting Charlotte?
Of course it did.
He was only human.
Yet…
He also understood why.
Kaidan bore the immense responsibility of governing this land peacefully.
Just as Michel always placed the children first…
Kaidan placed Valois first.
Besides…
Compared to the nobles Michel had met today, Kaidan had always treated the children with remarkable dignity.
There was no reason for him to torment himself this way.
“But…”
Kaidan continued quietly.
“That child lying on the floor was also one of Valois’s people.”
“And I only realized it after you stepped forward.”
Michel found himself unable to answer.
He had overlooked that truth as well.
“Watching you defend that child made me wonder.”
“Today, I abandoned one child for the sake of Valois’s future.”
“But what if there had been ten?”
“Would I have helped them?”
“What about twenty?”
“A hundred?”
“Could I honestly say I wouldn’t abandon them all again in the name of some greater cause?”
“I couldn’t.”
“……”
“But you stood against every noble in that room for the sake of a single child everyone else considered worthless.”
“You stood entirely on their side.”
“Was it only possible because you’re the Saint?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t exactly occupy a low position myself.”
“Kaidan…”
“Even their real parents might not have done what you did.”
“How ridiculous.”
“For the first time in my life…”
“I envied those children.”
A bitter smile crossed Kaidan’s lips.
That final sentence nearly brought Michel to tears.
Tell me the truth.
I’ll overlook it this once, so speak honestly.
Back in middle school…
Jung-oh had once found himself trapped in a hopeless situation.
While he was away competing in an outside taekwondo tournament, someone accused him of stealing a classmate’s handheld game console.
In truth…
The real thief had panicked once the matter grew serious and secretly placed the console inside Jung-oh’s locker.
But no one believed him.
“If you don’t admit what you’ve done, you’ll be barred from every taekwondo tournament from now on.”
His teacher’s words terrified him.
“I… borrowed it for a little while and forgot to return it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You brat.”
“If you’re going to borrow something, ask first.”
“Don’t ever do it again.”
Being forced to apologize for something he had never done was unbearably humiliating.
Still…
If a single apology could make everything disappear…
He could endure it.
The true nightmare came the following day.
“So you’re the one who bullied my son!”
The owner of the game console’s mother stormed into the school and immediately began accusing Jung-oh.
She insisted that the bruises her son often came home with must have been Jung-oh’s doing.
She declared she would not leave until he apologized on camera and promised never to bully her son again.
The teacher, who had initially tried to calm her down, eventually urged Jung-oh to simply film the apology so the matter could end.
The boy himself…
Remained silent.
He was probably too frightened of the children who had actually bullied him to tell the truth.
Even so…
At least he had his mother beside him.
“I-I’ll never…”
“Speak properly!”
Jung-oh cried uncontrollably as the video was recorded.
Once the woman finally left, the teacher dismissed everything with nothing more than,
“Make sure you all get along from now on.”
He felt wronged.
Yet there was no one with whom he could share his humiliation.
The sisters at the orphanage were busy caring for younger children.
He had already imposed upon his taekwondo master far too much.
Because he frequently traveled for competitions, he spent little time at school and had no classmates willing to defend him.
Jung-oh…
Was lonely.
He wished…
That he had a mother like that boy.
No.
The truth was…
What Jung-oh longed for back then was not the mother who had already abandoned him.
He simply wished someone—anyone—would listen to him.
Someone who would stand beside him.
A teacher.
A friend.
Even an alien…
It didn’t matter.
Just one person who believed him completely.
“I was happy because Sa-beomnim stood up for me.”
Michel gripped the armrest until his knuckles whitened.
Only now did he understand the true mistake he had made.
What children needed…
What every human being needed…
Was not parents.
Parents were simply people who fulfilled that role.
What one truly needed…
Was someone.
Someone who would stand on your side.
Someone willing to hear your story.
That was the existence everyone spent their entire lives longing for.
Michel himself.
The children of Valois Orphanage.
…
And the man sitting before him.
“I haven’t changed much since I left the North.”
Kaidan laughed bitterly.
“In the end…”
“I’m still a man woven from hypocrisy and pretense.”
“My father may even have been better than I am.”
“At least he never turned his back on his true nature.”
Every self-deprecating word pierced Michel’s heart.
He could not agree.
He remembered the family portrait hanging in the castle library.
Kaidan had been far too young to bear such a tragedy.
Even if he spent the rest of his life grieving his miserable past, no one would have the right to blame him.
Yet instead of cursing the world…
He turned every arrow toward himself.
He accepted responsibility for sins he had never committed.
Day after day.
Night after night.
He worked tirelessly for the people of this land.
Sometimes Michel wondered why he pushed himself so relentlessly.
How…
Could someone like that ever be the same as the monster who had fathered him?
“All this time…”
“I’ve used you for my own benefit.”
“And when it mattered most…”
“I couldn’t even protect you or those children.”
“Every word I’ve spoken…”
“Every action I’ve taken…”
“They disgust me.”
“I can barely bring myself to look you in the eye.”
“……”
“I’m simply…”
“So very sorry.”
At last…
Kaidan’s long confession came to an end.
Michel quietly gazed at the man before him.
The face that could freeze anyone with a single glance.
The powerful body that seemed forged from chains of steel.
The strength to cleave monsters several times larger than himself.
The unwavering spirit that had never retreated before hundreds of enemies.
Michel had always believed everything about Kaidan was strong.
Unbreakable.
Yet beneath that hard, resilient shell…
Lay a heart scarred beyond recognition.
For one fleeting moment…
The towering man before him looked no different from a fragile little child.
What comfort could he possibly offer to a child crushed beneath undeserved guilt?
He could tell him,
“You did nothing wrong. You don’t need to apologize.”
But Michel already knew such words would never ease that kind of guilt.
When a person sinks into profound self-reproach…
No reassurance can truly reach them.
Lawrence’s comfort had filled Michel with gratitude.
But it had not made him believe himself any less guilty.
Then…
What should he say?
What had he wished someone would say to him back then?
The answer…
Had already revealed itself.