"Ugh... ah... kill me... kill me... please, kill meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
In the darkness, someone's voice echoed through the room.
But there was no one to grant the plea of the person uttering it. If anything, the more he screamed, the faster the red blood flowed through the tubes embedded in his body.
Under normal circumstances, he should have died long ago from the sheer volume of blood being drained. Yet the man showed no signs of dying.
The reason lay in the gemstone embedded in his forehead.
...If Remuria had been present, she would have undoubtedly been surprised. For it was a gemstone with sealed magic—a type that, in the present age, only Remuria's clan should have possessed.
And not just any gemstone. The white, pure white gemstone indicated that what was sealed inside it was Recovery Magic.
Thanks to the effects of that Recovery Magic, the man with tubes embedded all over his body survived without dying of blood loss, as the faintly activated Recovery Magic continued to operate without ceasing.
However, naturally, subjecting oneself to such unreasonable treatment meant that things wouldn't simply end with Recovery Magic being applied. In fact, by having a gemstone imbued with Recovery Magic embedded in him, the man would not die—but he was constantly experiencing excruciating pain. Pain so severe that it wouldn't have been strange if he died at any moment.
In the first place, a gemstone with sealed magic lost its effect once used. Depending on the quality of the gemstone, it could even shatter.
Despite that, the gemstone embedded in this man's forehead was not being used by releasing all the sealed Recovery Magic at once, but rather little by little—truly little by little.
Naturally, the man with the gemstone embedded in him had not done this himself. It was done by the person who had bound his hands and feet with chains, rendering him unable to move.
Agony upon agony.
The man screamed without ever growing accustomed to the pain... but suddenly, the cries leaking from his mouth ceased.
"...Ah..."
With no understanding of what had happened, only a foolish-sounding voice escaped his lips.
It was only natural. The excruciating pain that had persisted until now had vanished in an instant.
Even so, after a few minutes passed, he was able to recall why he had been in such a state.
Under normal circumstances, he would have harbored intense anger toward the person who had deceived him and brought him here. But the excruciating pain he had endured until now had completely stripped away such willpower.
For the moment, he simply wanted to lose himself in this sudden tranquility.
It was only natural that he would find himself thinking such thoughts.
Had he a bit more willpower, it wouldn't have been strange for him to try to do something about his current situation. But for a person who had been made to suffer endlessly, there was no room to think of such things.
Going mad would have probably brought relief, but the Recovery Magic of the gemstone embedded in his forehead would not allow it.
Even now, as he lay there, the Recovery Magic sealed within the gemstone continued to activate slowly, gradually restoring him to a normal state.
"..."
Free of pain and everything else, he had no choice but to cling to this tranquil moment, thinking of nothing.
But that moment of respite came to an abrupt end.
Suddenly, the only door connecting this room to the outside was thrown open.
Not slowly, as though someone were carefully entering—but roughly, forcefully, as if they didn't care whether it broke.
"Young Master, are you unharmed!"
At the shout of the person who burst through the door, the man on the floor slowly raised his head.
If possible, I want them not to disturb this long-awaited moment of peace.
That was what he thought.
But Gaiska's thoughts were once again shattered by a single cry from the person who had entered.
"Young Master, please pull yourself together. Young Master. It's me. It's Deotres. Young Master!"
"Deo... t... res?"
That name slipped from Gaiska's mouth.
It was the name of his most trusted retainer.
The moment he spoke it, willpower surged through Gaiska in a way that defied explanation. This was despite the fact that mere seconds ago, he had been in a state that could only be described as a living corpse.
"Ah, yes, that's right. Honestly, when I returned from the party and found you gone, Young Master, I searched everywhere for you."
"Searched... everywhere? For how... long?"
Since being confined to this room, Gaiska had endured torment of such excruciating pain that he had lost all sense of time. He had no idea what time it was now—no idea how much time had passed since he had been brought to this house. His sense of time was completely paralyzed.
"Anyway, let's get out of here. It's still fine for now, but if we stay any longer, the people in this mansion might start gathering."
Get out of here.
The moment he heard those words, Gaiska felt strength return not only to his willpower but to his body as well.
There was pain. There was pain, yes... but he judged that getting out of this house and placing himself under his father's protection took priority over that pain.
Gaiska's current state could truly be described as his spirit overriding his flesh.
When he should have died unnoticed by anyone, Deotres—his most trusted retainer—had come to rescue him.
He had to escape from here no matter what, and make those who had done this to him pay an absolutely fitting price.
It was only natural for Gaiska to think such thoughts. No—considering his personality, it was only to be expected.
Feeding on his desire for revenge, he somehow managed to put strength into his legs and stand.
Watching Gaiska's state, Deotres unlocked the chains binding his body with a key and began pulling out the tubes extending from it.
Gaiska displayed a faintly displeased expression during the process, but Deotres must have judged that removing the tubes embedded throughout his body took priority.
"So... what do we need to do to get out of here?"
The tone in which Gaiska asked was by no means forceful. But unlike when he had surrendered himself to that brief moment of peace, he was able to take action of his own clear volition.
"For now, let's get out of here as quickly as possible. This house is stocked with skilled fighters, so if we get attacked by those kinds of people, I alone won't be able to protect you, Young Master."
"...Understood. Don't think that doing this to me will go unpunished. I will definitely... definitely make them regret it."
Muttering this, Gaiska leaned on Deotres's shoulder as they exited the room.
This room was in the basement of Celestan's house. That was why stairs lay ahead, and ascending them brought them to the hallway on the first floor.
"Deotres, from what I've heard, this house is supposedly rigged with numerous traps. Are there none?"
"Huh? Ah... I've already disarmed the ones around here, so it's not a problem. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to reach you, Young Master."
"I see."
Gaiska accepted Deotres's words readily. But originally, Deotres was not a bandit or anything of the sort—he was a warrior.
The fact that Gaiska did not find this strange was either because he trusted Deotres that much, or because the torture-like acts he had endured had left him mentally exhausted.
In any case, Gaiska showed not the slightest suspicion and proceeded toward the front entrance.
Celestan's house was not particularly spacious—not like a mansion. Aside from being located in the Slum District, it was truly nothing more than an ordinary house. Whether a house rigged with traps inside could still be called ordinary was a matter of debate, however.
Gaiska did not find this unusual and thought only of escaping... and eventually, he arrived before the door leading outside.
Given that the house itself was not that large, the distance to it was naturally short. For Gaiska, whose physical strength and mental fortitude were both severely depleted, this was an extremely fortunate turn of events.
And so Deotres opened the door leading outside...
"Oh my, where might you be heading?"
Right beyond the opened door stood the figure of this house's Butler, asking the question with a smile.
Gaiska, of course, remembered the Butler's face. More than that—he could be called one of Gaiska's symbols of terror.
Just moments ago, he had been thinking about making everyone living in this house regret being alive. But the instant he saw the Butler's face, such thoughts were overwritten with fear.
Even so.
The reason he didn't immediately panic upon seeing the Butler was probably because Deotres was there with him.
If Deotres was here, they could probably win against this Butler too. Even if they couldn't win, at least getting him out of here shouldn't be a problem.
Thinking that, Gaiska tried to turn his gaze toward Deotres, who was lending him his shoulder...
"Eh?"
A light impact struck him, and Gaiska let out a foolish-sounding voice as he collapsed onto the floor.
His one small mercy was that he was still inside the building, so he didn't have to collapse onto the cold winter ground.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, and caught off guard by the unexpected impact, Gaiska couldn't even brace himself with his hands as he fell. He simply tumbled over.
Then, lying on the floor, expecting Deotres to reach out a hand to help him up, he turned his gaze in that direction...
"..."
What met him was not a hand to help him up, but a cold stare.
A gaze as though looking at trash discarded by the roadside.
"What... are you doing."
The words that barely escaped Gaiska's mouth were filled with anger. Anger at why his most trusted retainer would do such a thing.
Deotres, subjected to that stare, ignored Gaiska entirely and spoke to the Butler.
"For now, this trash has recovered some of his willpower. As you requested, he should be feeling greater despair and hatred."
The words that came from Deotres's mouth were more than enough to tell Gaiska what kind of situation he was currently in.
"Why... Why would you do this! Do you hold a grudge against me or something!"
"Of course I do. Did you think I didn't?"
In response to Gaiska's words, a short reply from Deotres.
But within those words, hatred was unmistakably contained.
However, without noticing that hatred, Gaiska pressed on. He must have understood that if he fell silent now, he would be dragged back to that basement once again.
"Why! I trusted you, didn't I! And yet, why would you do this!"
"...Trusted? I suppose so. To be honest, you danced far more conveniently than I had imagined. So much that it took no effort at all to make you dance."
In Deotres's attitude and tone as he said that, there was none of the familiarity or warmth that had been present until recently—when he had called Gaiska "Young Master."
He continued speaking without even attempting to conceal the hatred within him.
"The reason I put up with a worthless incompetent like you was because I was thinking about how to give you the greatest despair possible."
"Why! Why would you do such a thing!"
Gaiska's words were nearly identical to what he had shouted mere seconds ago. But since he himself had no understanding of why he was being subjected to this, it was only natural for him to demand the reason from Deotres.
At Gaiska's words, Deotres exhaled briefly as if exasperated... and the next moment, he shouted with naked fury.
"Do you think anyone would swear loyalty from the bottom of their heart to you—the enemy of Lucsha!"
Lucsha. Even hearing that name, Gaiska could not recall who she was.
However, since Deotres had said "enemy," he could guess that it was probably someone he had killed or done something to for some reason.
...To Gaiska, a child not even ten years old—cut down as a test-swinging for a famous longsword he had happened to acquire—was not worth remembering.
Nor was the fact that she was the only daughter, the sole memento of Deotres's beloved late wife.
Deotres, who had been an adventurer, used those connections to fabricate a false history and infiltrate the Marquis Seisole's House, waiting for his chance at revenge.
All to deal a decisive ruin to Gaiska.
And that long-awaited opportunity had now arrived.
"When these people contacted me, I thought that heaven hadn't abandoned me after all. ...So then, Gaiska... no, Young Master. Young Master will be made to suffer through to the very end before dying, so do your best."
Wearing a smile befitting one called an Avenging Demon, Deotres reached out his hand to drag Gaiska back to the basement.