Chapter 78
It was a night of thunder and pouring rain.
Serea, who had been gazing out the window, darkened her eyes at the thick sheets of rain.
It had been raining continuously lately.
It seemed to stop for a moment, only to pour down again, leaving no time for the ground to dry.
The soil must have turned to mush; she wondered if the funeral had gone well…
Several days had already passed, yet no news had come.
“Sigh.”
She thought of her disciple.
The Countess Basilian had died.
The Basilian family hadn’t accepted any mourners at all, holding the funeral with only immediate family.
Even so, she’d honestly expected to be called, but Kierne hadn’t summoned even Serea.
It wasn’t that she felt hurt or anything like that.
She was just worried, and with no way to see his face, she felt only anxious.
He was a man so coldly detached that it seemed as if ice had been embedded in place of a heart pumping hot blood.
Yet that same Kierne had loved his lifelong companion with all his heart.
It had frustrated her that her disciple, possessing talent enough to shake the continent, had holed himself up in the Black Forest of the east, but on the other hand, she understood.
Wealth, fame, power…
Such things held no meaning in the face of love.
At least not for Kierne.
He’d lost his parents early, come to the Duke Evroiel’s residence to learn magic, and then returned to the east to quietly take up the duties of Count Basilian.
He couldn’t have not been lonely.
For such a man to finally find love, she’d thought his path ahead would be filled with nothing but happiness…
“…It’s too soon.”
What was he to do if she left so early like this?
The one left behind had to live out his life clinging to brief memories.
It was truly a cruel thing.
Serea finally closed the book she was reading.
The words simply wouldn’t register in her eyes.
Unable to concentrate, she rose from her chair and paced around the study.
Boom, the sound of thunder kept coming from outside.
That was why.
Buried in worry, anxiety, and the thunder, she failed to notice the approaching presence.
At some point, the air grew chilly, and she thought the sound of rain outside was too loud.
Rattle, she heard the window shaking in the wind.
Turning toward the window absentmindedly, Serea flinched in surprise.
A man in a hooded robe was collapsing into the study.
His body hit the floor with a heavy thud.
She hadn’t seen his face, but she knew instinctively.
“Kierne!”
She rushed over and knelt before him.
She grasped the slumped man’s shoulders.
The hood slipped down, revealing a face soaked in rain.
Kierne’s face, with black hair plastered to it, was pale.
He looked unusually young and fragile, almost like a boy.
Like the young boy from the days when he’d stayed at Duke Evroiel’s residence learning magic.
Water droplets fell steadily from his face.
“Master.”
Kierne looked at Serea with eyes shattered into pieces.
He moved his lips, blue from the cold.
“Help me.”
It was the first plea for help from one who hadn’t shown weakness even when his parents died.
Serea stared at him blankly, then slowly lowered her gaze.
“…!”
Kierne’s shadow was writhing.
Black darkness gurgled out from Kierne’s body, gradually expanding the shadow’s size.
The shape twisting of its own accord stirred instinctive fear.
It was a sight insufficiently described as ominous.
Goosebumps spread up her arms.
Serea widened her eyes and demanded,
“You… what have you done!”
His mana, which should have been pure, was completely twisted.
This wasn’t the mana of an ordinary wizard.
It was the mana of a black mage.
Kierne trembled faintly.
“I can’t control it at will… If I stay like this, it feels like I’ll blow away the entire east.”
He lifted the hand that had been pressing against the floor.
Thick darkness flowed endlessly from his palm.
Kierne pulled up the corners of his mouth in a smile.
The weak smile was habitual.
“You can suppress my power, Master.”
Kierne had altered the nature of his mana to become a black mage.
But with his exceptional power, the backlash from the twisting was equally fierce.
That was why he’d come to Serea on the verge of rampage.
The black darkness was like a wild beast ready to rampage at any moment.
He needed his power suppressed to contain the rampage.
Though time was of the essence, Serea couldn’t say a word.
She stared at him in a daze, then muttered as if spitting blood.
“You… you’re mad. You’re not in your right mind…”
Her precious disciple, wiser than anyone, possessing talent like the most brilliant gem.
He’d plunged his own future into the abyss.
From now on, Kierne would never be able to use magic in front of others again.
Having chosen darkness over light, he’d have to hide in the shadows for life, evading the inquisitors’ eyes.
Yet the moment she confirmed Kierne’s choice.
Serea realized that none of that frightened her.
Because she’d understood what he’d fallen into darkness for.
Having watched over him for so long, she knew.
That he was trying to revive his dead wife.
Serea had to choose.
The moment she helped Kierne here, she too would be defying the gods.
The most just and right thing was for this black mage, attempting to commit an act against providence, to die right here.
Yet, fully aware of all reason and logic, Serea couldn’t choose her disciple’s death.
She was Kierne’s master, who had to embrace and cover his faults.
“You damned bastard. Cunning viper.”
Serea chewed out curses as she drew up her mana.
Kierne gasped for breath and smiled faintly at the blooming purple mana.
He knew what conflict she’d resolved to reach this decision.
“Master, haa, your kindness… I’ll repay it…”
“Shut up and focus. It’s going to hurt like hell.”
As she quickly drew the magic circle, Serea snapped at him.
“I’ll make sure you never think of doing something like this again.”
Kierne, having finished the story, smiled wryly and said,
“And that’s how, thanks to the duke, Dad safely became a black mage.”
He casually added that he’d nearly died from the mana twisting when becoming a black mage, and if it had rampaged, the east would have vanished from the map.
“The duke probably knows what Dad wants to do. But she’s never once mentioned it.”
Knowing he wanted to revive the dead, yet deliberately pretending not to know and helping him.
It was her best choice.
She didn’t approve of Kierne’s attempt to revive the dead, but she didn’t want to stop what he desperately desired…
Pretending not to know and helping—that was truly something to be grateful for, Kierne said, genuinely holding affection for Serea.
She was one of the few people the suspicious Kierne trusted.
“So, a few years later, Dad repaid the favor.”
“…”
He said he repaid the favor, but why did it sound like repaying a grudge?
Cheshire chuckled inwardly.
In any case, with a bond that covered such a flaw, they couldn’t help but be close.
Kierne took a flower from the vase and placed it in Cheshire’s hand.
It was a white dahlia.
“So, if anything happens to Dad, go to the duke. She’s your godmother too. Got it?”
Kierne whispered with a gentle smile.
“No matter what situation comes, she’ll protect you, Cheshire.”
However, even if Kierne protected Cheshire, he would cast aside his own life as lightly as a falling petal.
From the moment he chose to become a black mage.
He’d been prepared to die at any time…
