novelraw Chapter 11 : Chapter 11
Chapter 11 : Chapter 11
Chapter 11
“…After hearing what Sigrid said, what are you doing now?”
I asked Mr. Berian, who was still under hypnosis.
Until now, even while hypnotized, Mr. Berian had spoken with surprising clarity. He was probably highly susceptible to hypnosis.
But this time was different.
The moment he heard my question, his body began to tremble violently, as if he were having a seizure.
“U-ugh… ugh. F-fireball. Fireball…!”
Even suggestions like you are safe or you feel comfortable no longer worked.
“F-fireball. It’s fire. Fire…!”
Mr. Berian shook his head from side to side.
Then mana began to gather in his hands, and a sphere of flame formed.
It seemed he was confusing illusion and reality, attempting to cast a fireball not only in the vision, but in reality as well.
“Mr. Berian!”
I urgently called his name.
While he was hypnotized, I had addressed him only as “you.”
I had planted a suggestion that calling him “Mr. Berian” would cause him to awaken from the hypnosis.
The instant I spoke his name, the spasmodic shouting of “fireball” and “fire” stopped, and Mr. Berian’s body went limp. He looked like a robot whose power had been cut. His pale skin even made him resemble a corpse.
However, he had not completely lost consciousness. His body still twitched intermittently.
I administered “Mist’s Lullaby” to the unconscious Mr. Berian. Only then did the convulsive trembling cease, and he fell into sleep.
“Haah….”
Letting out a long breath, I looked down at Mr. Berian. My heart was still pounding violently.
I was good at reading other people’s emotions.
I had been designed that way.
I could analyze emotions in a technical manner by reading the flow and particle shapes of mana. I could identify intense emotions like hostility or killing intent by sensing the scent of released mana. I could also read nonverbal cues such as expressions and tone of voice.
And sometimes, I simply felt them.
There were times when I sensed another person’s emotions without even trying to read them. Sometimes, emotions surged violently into my mind against my will.
This was one of those times.
I was feeling Mr. Berian’s emotions—the emotions of a man who had been forced to kill Jubik with his own hands, Jubik whom he had taught magic to, who had been, in many ways, his own disciple.
I felt all of it: the guilt, the anxiety, the rage, the fear.
The pain Mr. Berian had felt was so overwhelming that he had wanted to choose death just to escape it. It truly was that severe.
I understood why he had developed Fire Phobia, along with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
‘I could tell Mr. Berian everything I learned through hypnosis. His memories would return, and his Fire Phobia might be cured as a result. But….’
After the flood of emotions finally receded and I regained my composure, I fell into deep thought.
‘…Can Mr. Berian endure these memories?’
If Mr. Berian possessed a strong psyche, he would endure them and overcome them. As he confronted his memories, his trauma response would fade, and eventually, he would overcome his Fire Phobia.
Of course, assistance from medication like “Clear Mind Elixir” or “Night’s Embrace” would likely be necessary.
‘The problem is if he cannot endure them.’
If he failed to endure them, his trauma response would become even more severe. His Fire Phobia would worsen as well.
In the worst case, Mr. Berian might die. Unable to overcome his guilt, he might ultimately make an irreversible choice.
‘Which is better—a cruel truth, or a comfortable lie?’
That question again.
I had to treat Mr. Berian. The letter from the kingdom weighed on my mind, and above all, money was deeply involved in this case.
Thinking rationally—no, selfishly—it would be better to tell Mr. Berian the truth, even at some risk. Without knowing the truth, his Fire Phobia would never be easily cured.
But if learning the truth drove Mr. Berian to make an irreversible choice—if my poor judgment led to his death—
Could I bear that guilt…?
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
As my thoughts spiraled deeper, someone knocked on the door of the counseling office.
Today had been reserved solely for Mr. Berian. No other clients were scheduled to come.
It did not seem to be an intruder like before, either. I sensed no killing intent or hostility, and above all, the knocking was polite.
Even so, I could not let my guard down. Maintaining a minimum level of caution, I opened the door.
The moment I did, a smile escaped me.
“It has been a while, Ms. Nyxle.”
“Yes. It really has been a long time, Instructor.”
***
Ms. Nyxle’s reason for visiting was simple.
“Please accept this.”
“No, this is….”
“It should be about one hundred thousand Leon in total. It is not much, but I wanted to express my gratitude.”
Ms. Nyxle handed me an envelope filled with money.
One hundred thousand Leon was roughly equivalent to the contract payment I had received from the kingdom.
“Where did you obtain such a large sum…?”
“As you know, Feral Wolf works as an unofficial investigator for the Public Security Bureau. And well… it pays rather well.”
Ms. Nyxle spoke while curling her index finger and thumb into a circle. Along with her smile, her sharp canine teeth were revealed prominently.
When I first met her, Ms. Nyxle had looked fragile, as if she might collapse at any moment. That was no longer the case.
She was still timid and introverted, but there was now a sense of resolve and determination in her eyes.
Ms. Nyxle adjusted her posture and continued.
“Are you busy right now?”
“I was in the middle of speaking with a client.”
For a brief moment, disappointment crossed her face.
“I am sorry. I ended up interrupting you. I should be going, then—”
“No. I do have a little time to talk. And there is something I would like to ask you as well.”
“Oh? Really?”
Ms. Nyxle’s face brightened noticeably. It seemed she had wanted to talk with me. After coming all this way, she would not have wanted to simply hand over the money and leave.
I stared at Ms. Nyxle.
She tilted her head, looking puzzled by my gaze. According to a book I had read, werewolves sometimes displayed dog-like gestures. This was exactly that.
“For now… I am glad to see that you seem to be doing better, Ms. Nyxle.”
“That is thanks to you, Instructor. I have always wanted to thank you. I have just been busy with work for a while.”
“I saw your name in the newspapers a few times. You have become quite famous. Both you and Feral Wolf.”
As a Public Security Bureau investigator, she had not only eliminated Castalners, but also wiped out Lumiere’s long-standing drug trafficking and human trafficking organizations.
That alone was an extraordinary achievement—and that was only her official work. Including the activities of Feral Wolf as an unofficial investigator, her accomplishments could only be described as legendary.
“I have also heard that thanks to you and Feral Wolf, Lumiere’s crime rate has dropped to less than half.”
“That is embarrassing. It was not anything that impressive….”
“You even gained a splendid nickname.”
“A-ah! Please do not bring that up! You said you had something to ask me, right? Let’s talk about that first!”
Ms. Nyxle hurriedly tried to change the subject. Understandably so.
She had refused all media interviews and quietly continued working as a Public Security Bureau investigator. She was probably just shy, which was why she rejected every interview.
Despite that, the newspapers had taken it upon themselves to praise her with bizarre nicknames like “The Silent Valkyrie” and “The Sharp Flower of the Public Security Bureau.”
‘…Justin probably had a hand in that as well. He must have intended to spread the bureau’s reputation.’
In any case, even as a third party, the nicknames were embarrassing enough. It was understandable that Ms. Nyxle reacted strongly to this.
I decided to stop the small talk there and move on to the main topic.
“It concerns a client I am currently treating.”
Without revealing the detailed background or full truth, I explained only the general situation to Ms. Nyxle—just enough for her to understand that I had to choose between a cruel truth and a comfortable lie.
“I would like to hear your opinion, Ms. Nyxle. You have been in a similar situation before.”
“Yes. I was the one who heard the cruel truth.”
“That is right. If you do not mind me asking, how did you endure that truth?”
Ms. Nyxle stared off into empty space, as if recalling the past.
“…It was hard. It really was.”
Her expression gradually darkened.
“I… did not know too many things. That my father tried to assault me. That Feral Wolf killed my father. That Castalners were hunting me.”
“Yes.”
“After learning all the truth, honestly… I wanted to die.”
Ms. Nyxle continued calmly.
“It was difficult to endure all of it. Especially the truth about my father… that was the hardest to bear.”
A faint glimmer flickered in her hollow eyes.
“…But it was not that learning the truth itself made it painful. Thinking back, it was painful even when I did not know. I was trapped in that foolish anxiety that Feral Wolf would take over my body, and because of that, I pushed myself too hard.”
“You forced yourself not to sleep because you did not want Feral Wolf to take your body.”
“Yes. And that is why I suffered from chronic fatigue and sleep deprivation.”
Ms. Nyxle lowered her gaze, then looked back at me.
“When I think about it now, knowing or not knowing was not the important part. It was painful when I did not know, and painful when I knew.”
She smiled, showing her canine teeth. It was not a fierce smile, but a rather cute one.
“I think it is better to know. If it is going to hurt anyway, I would rather be in pain knowing everything.”
“I see.”
“I feel like I have not been much help.”
“No. You have helped me.”
“I should be going now. You are working, and I also have a schedule to keep…”
As she was leaving the counseling office, she suddenly turned her head, as if something had occurred to her.
“Oh, right. Feral Wolf said he wanted to see you as well. He said he would visit when he had time. Would that be all right?”
“Of course. He is welcome anytime.”
“It would have been nice if I could have come with him today, but unfortunately, my body does not allow that.”
Ms. Nyxle said with a laugh. I scratched the back of my head and laughed as well. I was not sure how to respond to that joke.
“I will see you next time.”
After Ms. Nyxle completely left the counseling office, I fell into thought.
Mr. Berian had experienced something horrific. It would be difficult for anyone to endure.
If I irresponsibly told him the truth, believing that he could endure it, something terrible might happen. In the worst case, Mr. Berian might take his own life.
But Ms. Nyxle’s words also made sense.
If it was painful whether one knew or not, perhaps it was better to be in pain knowing everything.
CHIRP, CHIRP-CHIRP.
As my thoughts deepened, a familiar birdcall came from beyond the window.
It seemed someone had sent me a letter using “Gipone.”
When I opened the window, a pigeon greeted me—one whose flight speed and intelligence had been enhanced by magic. The pigeon placed the letter it held in its beak before me, then shot off into the sky.
When I saw the recipient’s name, my eyes widened.
It was an utterly unexpected person.
─To Instructor Kain, who is treating Mage Berian. From Sigrid.
It was a letter from Adjutant Sigrid, who had participated in the Ashen Cinder Battle alongside Mr. Berian and Lord Dalmon.
The letter began as follows:
─I am writing this in haste, as there is something I must tell you, along with a request. By the time this letter reaches you, I will likely no longer be among the living…
It was a suicide note.
Mr. Berian, who had killed his disciple Jubik.
Lord Dalmon, who had killed Garsha, a woman no different from his lover.
Both must have suffered tremendous shock.
No less than them, Adjutant Sigrid must have suffered as well. He had killed his own subordinate to conceal the incident, filed false reports to his superiors, and even then, likely spent sleepless nights, unable to put his mind at ease.
‘It must have felt like his mind was being gnawed away every single day.’
In such a situation, thinking that death would be preferable was understandable. Unless one possessed extraordinary mental fortitude, it would have been nearly impossible to endure.
“Instructor Kain… is it over…?”
At that moment, Mr. Berian—whom I had put to sleep after administering “Mist’s Lullaby”—woke up and came out into the counseling office. His voice was hoarse, as if he had not fully woken yet.
I hurriedly asked him,
“Mr. Berian. Do you know where Adjutant Sigrid resides?”
“Adjutant Sigrid…?”
Mr. Berian blinked, clearly flustered.
“I do know, but why all of a sudden—”
“Adjutant Sigrid sent me a suicide note.”
“A suicide note? Wh-why would he… why would Adjutant Sigrid send a suicide note…!”
Mr. Berian’s eyes widened in shock, and he began to babble incoherently. He was clearly shaken.
That was only natural.
But this was not the time to wait for him to compose himself. There was something far more urgent.
“He may still be alive.”
Gipone had no delayed delivery function. When a letter was attached to a specialized pigeon, it was delivered immediately to its destination.
Which meant that Adjutant Sigrid had still been alive when he sent this letter.
“We have to save him.”