The Loathsome Scapegoat C5
by berryChapter 5
Wasn’t the truest revenge available to the weak to struggle, resist, and shatter malice with their own hands?
Leopold had undeniably enjoyed watching Terren defeat the Academy’s prejudiced nobles despite all their contempt.
Seeing nobles humiliated by the very commoner they despised…
It had been entertaining.
Yes.
It was hypocrisy.
Only someone with such unbearably arrogant thinking could create a situation like this.
Leopold clicked his tongue and unconsciously clenched and unclenched his hand.
Now that he had been forced to confront his true self head-on…
An unfamiliar sense of shame heated his face.
Even so…
To think Terren hated him more than the Academy students who tormented him so mercilessly.
Terren Meyer had clearly chosen the wrong target for his anger.
…Or was he truly that irredeemable a villain?
Either possibility was equally dreadful.
Leopold was only sixteen.
Although unusually rational for his age, he was still too young to analyze such naked hostility toward himself through reason alone.
Separate from his self-reflection…
He couldn’t help feeling resentful toward Terren Meyer.
Lloyd van Acker, the eldest son of House van Acker—one of only two ducal families in the kingdom—was the second most influential student in the Academy after the First Prince himself.
Leopold Delua had certainly ordered him to “exercise restraint.”
Unfortunately…
He had never clarified exactly what that restraint meant.
That single mistake led to Terren suffering the worst bullying the Academy had ever seen.
Lloyd made no effort to hide his dislike for Terren.
The moment the other students noticed that subtle hostility, their course of action became obvious.
They bullied the commoner they already couldn’t stand.
It was worse than in Terren’s previous life.
Far worse.
Not even the tiny shred of patience he still possessed—born from reminding himself “They’re only sixteen.”—was enough to endure it anymore.
How could people become so vicious?
Insults shouted in passing were the least of it.
Whenever they crossed paths, someone would punch him.
Groups would surround and beat him.
Students fired practice spells at him.
Sometimes wooden swords came flying toward him.
(Real swords were forbidden inside the Academy.)
How long had he endured it?
Terren Meyer—
A vicious murderer in his previous life—
Eventually grew exhausted by the malice of a group of sixteen-year-olds.
Deep inside…
The urge to slaughter every last one of them threatened to boil over.
Fortunately…
Such murderous impulses were exactly what one needed to learn dark magic.
Malice.
Bloodlust.
Those emotions formed the very foundation of dark magic.
Terren carefully nurtured the hatred accumulating inside him.
Then…
One night before summer arrived…
He secretly slipped out of the Academy.
Compared to when he’d first returned to the past two months earlier…
He had grown noticeably taller.
That gradual growth only made his return to reality feel more tangible.
His hair had become long enough to reach his neck, forcing him to tie it back into a short ponytail.
Pulling a robe over his head and carrying only the dagger he always kept with him…
Terren walked through Delua’s dark capital.
He walked.
Boarded a carriage.
Walked again.
His destination…
A cliff on the outskirts of the capital.
A deep ravine where those fleeing wild beasts and monsters in the surrounding forests often arrived in despair…
Only to throw themselves over the edge.
Standing before that cliff…
Terren looked up at the sky.
Moonlight shone directly upon a single enormous rock.
People called this place…
The Abyss.
The dark mages called it the same.
The strangely moonlit boulder was simply known as…
The Rock.
Such unremarkable names existed because this anonymous cliff, devoid of any sign of human life…
Had originally been nothing more than a hidden refuge for a single criminal.
Terren slowly approached the stone.
The moment he entered its range…
The moonlight suddenly grew brighter.
He knelt before it…
As though performing a sacred ritual.
Then…
He slowly drew his dagger.
His ash-gray eyes fixed upon the stone.
He engraved the entire scene into his memory.
Without hesitation…
He slashed his own arm.
Drip.
Bright red blood splattered across the rock.
Smiling faintly…
Terren tightened his grip around the dagger.
As the crimson-stained blade bit deeper into his flesh…
Blood began pouring out violently enough to dye the entire stone red.
“Bloodlust surpasses all things.”
He whispered.
Then…
He summoned the pure mana resting quietly within his body.
Violent energy raged through him.
The moment that power met the wound he’d inflicted upon himself…
It faltered.
Terren stared at the flowing blood.
Drawing a slow breath…
He thought back on everything.
His mother…
Who had died cursing him.
Leopold Delua…
Sobbing in despair.
Mountains of corpses.
The Academy overflowing with blood, bodies, and the stench of death.
The vivid memory nearly made him dizzy.
Terren gagged.
At the same time…
He drew an attack spell.
Ordinary magic.
What Terren called white magic.
People said it was so weak that a knight’s sword could shatter it with a single swing.
They weren’t wrong.
But…
When ordinary magic was fused with unbearable bloodlust…
Overwhelming sensory stimulation—
Such as fresh blood—
And the magic circle of a sufficiently skilled mage…
Even the simplest attack spell transformed into something entirely different.
This…
Was the only way to enter The Abyss.
A violent, artificial force erupted around him.
Already weakened from blood loss, Terren grabbed his bleeding wrist.
His eyes shone.
The tremendous energy distorted the ground beneath his feet.
He bit his lip and stared intently.
A tiny crack slowly appeared in the earth.
The instant he stepped into it…
Agony beyond endurance consumed him.
An instant…
And an eternity…
Passed simultaneously.
Terren Meyer fell endlessly.
Thud.
The impact echoed through his bones.
Only then did he realize…
He had arrived inside The Abyss.
Fortunately, magic had cushioned his fall.
Nothing was broken.
Even so…
His entire body throbbed with pain.
The gloomy underground chamber resembled a prison.
Torches burned along the stone walls.
Terren looked around.
It was exactly as he remembered.
The place he’d fallen into countless times during his previous life.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
For some reason…
It felt unbelievably comforting.
Only now…
Everything seemed to have returned to where it belonged.
If only he could remain here a little longer—
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Growing steadily louder.
A robed mage approached.
His stride was slightly longer than an ordinary person’s.
His arms swung gently as he walked.
It’s been a long time.
Immediately, Terren scrambled upright before lowering himself onto one knee.
The moment the robed mage arrived…
Terren Meyer met the eyes of the dark mage…
Yuan.
“I’ve come to learn dark magic.”
“Please test me.”
Silence followed.
After a long pause…
Yuan simply gestured for him to follow.
The interior of The Abyss was damp…
Dark…
Oppressively silent.
After walking through the maze-like tunnels for what felt like an eternity…
Yuan opened a massive stone door.
The first thing Terren saw…
Was a man chained to the wall.
His hands and feet bound.
Blood dripping steadily onto the floor.
“Who is this?”
A cold voice brushed past Terren’s ears.
His heart pounded violently.
“A newcomer.”
“He knows of dark magic.”
“He wishes to learn.”
“Arnold visited less than an hour ago.”
“My apologies.”
“I’ll submit a report and await further instructions.”
“Forget it.”
“It changes nothing.”
The owner of the voice slowly examined Terren from head to toe.
Eyes like those of a serpent moved methodically…
Until they gleamed as though discovering particularly delicious prey.
The sensation sent chills racing through Terren.
“How did you find this place…”
“…Young mage?”
Although hidden beneath his robe…
His youth was still obvious.
Terren struggled to suppress his nervousness.
Then answered calmly.
“I heard about it…”
“From another mage.”
“His name.”
“…Daniel.”
“So killing Daniel was the correct decision.”
“I never liked the people he brought here.”
Terren slowly raised his head.
His lord.
Ah…
The master to whom he had devoted ten years of his life.
Simply meeting those horrifying eyes filled him with enough fear to make his knees tremble.
But he endured it through sheer stubbornness.
He had served this man for an entire decade.
No matter how young his body had become…
He refused to lower his head before that killing intent.
The serpent-like golden eyes flashed.
A slow smile spread across his master’s face as he silently admired Terren’s reckless courage.
Then he gave a single command.
“Kill the man bound to the wall…”
“…Young mage.”
Without saying a word…
Terren drew the dagger from inside his robe.