Two days remained until the Inspector arrived.
After discussing the situation with Father and the others, we decided to conduct two experiments beforehand to see if we could lighten my burden.
First: if Transplant Magic worked with something other than my own skin—pig skin, for instance—then I could spare myself the mutilation.
Second: if that failed and I had no choice but to use my own skin, perhaps a numbing medicine—something like anesthesia—could kill the pain. If I could "self-harm" without the agony, the process would be far more bearable, even if my physical condition still suffered afterward.
The group gathered in the drawing room: Father, Mother, Mira, and Klaus.
Our test subject would be the old scar at Father's hairline, an injury he’d received during sword training years ago. When he brushed back his bangs, a single, thin white line was visible along his forehead.
A heavy silence filled the room as the experiment began.
◇◇◇
A single desk and chair were placed in the center of the drawing room.
"First, we shall test the alternate skin," Klaus said as he spread out a white cloth. On it lay a thin sliver of pig skin. The piece, roughly the size of a palm, sat there, pale and still.
"I had this taken from a pig scheduled for tonight's dinner. It was sliced while the animal was still alive and brought here immediately."
Father sat down in the chair and leaned his elbow on the desk, lifting his bangs once more. The thin white scar stood out against his skin.
"Give it a try, Rein."
"……Yes, Father."
I gently placed the pig skin over his scar. Then, I activated my Recovery Magic.
The sensation was wrong.
The mana flowing from my palm wouldn't pass beyond the surface of the pig skin. Usually, when I used my own skin, I felt a distinct connection—a sense of the recipient's body accepting the graft as if it were its own. Now, there was nothing. My mana simply wandered aimlessly within the pig skin, dissipating before it could even reach the scar.
The trigger wouldn't engage.
The scar at Father's hairline remained a thin white line, unchanged.
"……It’s no use, Father."
I removed the pig skin and wiped away the residual blood with the white cloth.
The mana simply wouldn't pass through it. When I used my own skin, I felt as if my very will to deceive the body was being transmitted. This felt like hitting a wall.
"If pig skin won't work, then perhaps a human's... no, I shouldn't even think that."
The thought slipped out as a mumble. Asking a person to give up their skin while alive was a monstrous request. Only then did it truly sink in—this was exactly what I had been doing to myself.
In that instant, I heard the rustle of fabric.
To my left, Mira had already drawn the small knife she kept at her waist and rolled up her left sleeve.
"Wait—"
"Mira, what are you—!"
Before I could finish my shout, Mira’s knife had already sliced a small piece of skin from her forearm. A red line bloomed across her pale flesh as blood began to seep out.
"Lord Rein, please use this."
Mira remained perfectly calm. Her expression and her voice were as flat as ever, betraying no hint of the pain she must have felt.
I sprang from my chair, grabbed her arm, and immediately cast Recovery Magic. The bleeding stopped, and new skin spread over the wound like a film until no trace of the injury remained.
Despite the successful healing, I felt something rough and abrasive grinding within my chest.
"Mira, why would you do something like that?"
"If I can lighten Lord Rein's burden in the slightest, it is my greatest wish."
Mira held out the piece of skin to me with both hands.
"Please, use it."
Father seemed only mildly surprised, as if he had half-expected her to do something like this. With trembling hands, I took the sample from her.
I placed it gently over Father’s scar and activated my Recovery Magic.
But... once again, the mana refused to pass through.
It was the exact same sensation as with the pig skin. My mana wandered blindly within Mira’s skin before vanishing into nothingness.
I was certain now. Unless it was my own body, the magic simply wouldn't take. The result would be the same whether it was a pig, Mira, or anyone else.
"……I’m sorry, Mira. It was for nothing."
"No, please do not apologize. The result is unfortunate, but that is all."
I was devastated by the failure, but the atmosphere among the others was even heavier.
◇◇◇
Father let out a sharp exhale.
"Let’s pull ourselves together and try the second option."
Klaus produced a thin needle and a small glass vial from a different box. Inside was a transparent, pale green liquid.
"This is... a substance usually reserved for blowgun darts."
He looked at the vial with a grimace. "It is not something I take pride in showing you. If the tip of a needle is coated in this and pricked into a subject, the surrounding area—and eventually the whole body—loses all sensation. It is a tool used for capture and interrogation. May I proceed?"
"Please."
I rolled my left sleeve up past the elbow. Klaus touched the needle to the rim of the vial, coating the tip in a single drop of the medicine. Then, he gave my forearm a quick prick. The pain was negligible. I cast a quick Recovery Magic spell, and the tiny wound vanished.
"Please wait a moment for it to take effect."
Silence fell over the room. After about two minutes, Klaus spoke again.
"It should have taken hold by now. How do you feel?"
"I don't feel any different."
Klaus lightly stroked the spot where he’d pricked me with the pad of his finger. "And now?"
"……I feel it perfectly."
The sensation of his touch and the pressure of his finger were crystal clear. I tried pinching myself.
It hurt.
Nothing had changed.
"……It isn't working."
My voice was so quiet it startled even me. Klaus let out a long, weary sigh.
"……This is a cruel outcome, Lord Rein."
I shook my head slightly.
"……It seems I’ll have to keep bearing my own pain after all."
A heavy collective sigh echoed through the room. No one could find anything to say.