What is this?
Leopold had been angry. He had even felt disappointed, if he was being honest.
Seeing the students sprawled around Terren, bleeding, had fanned the animosity that had already been smoldering since their last conversation.
He had grabbed Terren’s arm to demand an explanation, because Terren had the nerve to ignore him and try to walk away — and then.
Looking again — the black robe was torn in multiple places, caked with dirt.
The arm obscured by the robe bore wounds in a horrible shape, and blood was seeping out of them without stop.
What is this, what is— Before the thought could finish, Terren wrenched his arm free without a word and took a step toward the edge of the forest.
Only to be seized again immediately.
“Stop. Wait.”
“…….”
“I said stop!”
This time Leopold grabbed Terren by the robe.
He could feel the dark-haired boy glaring at him, but he paid it no mind.
He applied just a little force — and the boy came along with startling ease.
Terren Meyer lost his footing and stumbled.
Leopold caught him in alarm, gripping his shoulders and steadying him properly.
One of his cheeks was swollen and red. Terren let out a hacking cough.
“…What happened.”
“…….”
“Why are your arms like that? No — looking more closely, it’s not just one or two places. Let’s go to the infirmary first. You’re not okay right now.”
“Get away from me.”
The kingdom’s First Prince, having just received yet another sudden insult, looked thoroughly put out. Without asking for Terren’s input whatsoever, he started dragging him along.
Terren Meyer, in a state that was well past not okay and closer to on the verge of collapse, was hauled along helplessly — and eventually, fury surged up and he spat out whatever came to mind.
“Have you lost your mind? If I told you to let go, you should listen — what do you think you’re—”
“You’re this insolent, and you’re asking why I don’t listen to you?”
Whatever had become of the equality he was so fond of — the answer that came back was insufferable.
Terren opened his mouth to retort, then clamped it shut against the wave of nausea rising up.
He made a strangled sound, fighting to hold back the heaving — and only then did Leopold turn his head.
“Are you alright—”
“I’ll follow on my own. Let go.”
Leopold stood frozen for a few seconds, as though something in him had broken down — and then finally released Terren.
The battered boy bent his head and didn’t move.
Bright sunlight poured down from above. In the heavy, sweltering heat, neither of them moved.
Leopold felt a dizzying sensation, as though he’d been struck from behind.
What am I doing right now?
Terren Meyer was injured. He looked as though there wasn’t a sound inch on his body — like he could collapse at any moment and it would be no surprise.
And here he had been trying to overpower that person and drag him somewhere by force. That alone already made him no better than the worst kind of person.
And as for those five students collapsed over there — yes, he’d been out of his mind, but if he were thinking at all clearly, he could reasonably work out why they were in that state.
He pressed his lips tight. His face burned. He rubbed his own blood-dried hand for no reason.
The answer to why was Terren so badly injured — that too was something Leopold knew. Terren Meyer was completely isolated here. You’d have to be a fool not to know that. So that meant, so that was why—
His gaze caught on Terren’s tied-back hair. He had noticed it from glimpsing it here and there — at some point, he had started wearing his hair pulled back short. It was a long time before Terren slowly lifted his bowed head.
“…Am I allowed to go now?”
Leopold hesitated before asking, and Terren said nothing and walked forward.
Leopold Delua matched his pace.
There was nothing but the soft sound of their footsteps.
They left the forest and slipped quietly into the Academy building.
Occasionally they passed students, but they were all from different years. It was a tremendous relief not to run into any of the students who shared their classes.
Terren made straight for the dormitory room — and was grabbed by the back of the neck again. This time Leopold’s will was unyielding; he would not be moved.
Unbearable irritation seethed — but his body, which had gone completely rogue, was operating independently of his mind.
He was dragged to the infirmary.
“Take off the robe.”
“Unbelievable, the sheer nerve—”
Before he could finish, the dirt-caked robe was stripped off him. Terren ground his teeth. Leopold saw the tunic soaked red with blood, both sleeves stained the same crimson, and went quiet for a moment in what looked like shock — then murmured a single line.
“Are you out of your mind? How did you end up like this.”
Terren, who had abandoned all pretense by now, sneered.
“You saw it with your own eyes — have you already forgotten?”
“…Was it those students?”
“What answer would satisfy you, I wonder.”
“You — no. Right. Fine. Let’s treat the wounds first. You’ve lost far too much blood.”
The school nurse was away. But this was a school filled with nothing but swordsmen who trained with blades as their primary discipline. Leopold picked up disinfectant without hesitation and poured it over Terren’s arm. The spot where the dark magic had struck was festering a dark color.
What on earth is that wound. Unable to conceal his horror, Leopold poured disinfectant over that spot too — and Terren Meyer nearly bit clean through his own tongue.
“Get a grip — ngh — get — please just get away from me.”
“You’re the one who needs to get a grip. How did it get to this point—!”
Terren said nothing. That alone made Leopold’s heart drop.
“Terren… this isn’t something that just happened today, is it.”
“…….”
“Tell me. Have those students been doing this to you for a while?”
“And what would you do with that information.”
“What?”
“You really haven’t changed at all. I dare to predict, Your Highness, that you will be exactly the same for the rest of your life.”
The sight of Leopold grinding his teeth against his temper was almost funny.
But he was startlingly rational, even now — he reined in even that fury.
That borders on remarkable, Terren thought, watching as Leopold drew out a healing magic array.
Both arms were bandaged. The cut on his leg was treated. Through the pounding headache and his fading vision, Terren found himself thinking, not for the first time, just how completely insane the situation he was currently in was.
When Leopold inevitably noticed blood seeping through the torn tunic from the wound on his back, Terren Meyer whispered in a low, forbidding voice.
“I dare you to touch it.”
“It needs to be treated.”
“I must look like an idiot who can’t even cast a single healing spell.”
“That’s not what I mean. A healing spell won’t close all of it anyway. The disinfectant comes first.”
“Remarkable. As expected — astoundingly meticulous, logical, and just.”
The provocations in this life were clearly hitting him harder than before. Stung, Leopold went silent. The eyelids he lowered slightly as he fought to suppress his emotions made him look, for a moment, genuinely like a sixteen-year-old boy.
He pushed back the disheveled golden hair and murmured quietly. Those large, water-blue eyes wavered.
“Watch your mouth. Talking like that does nothing to help you.”
“Then perhaps try actually listening to what I say for once.”
“No—!”
He shoved the bandages into Terren’s arms like a throw.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
Whether he was genuinely exasperated, he backed up and sat on the bed across from him.
Leopold’s angry face was always a gratifying and entertaining sight.
Terren Meyer settled back against the wall of the bed with a satisfied expression.
Drowsiness swept over him. He sat there with his eyes closed — and Leopold issued an order with an aggressive edge to his tone.
“Tell me when they started. Terren Meyer.”
“…….”
“…That’s an order. Tell me right now.”
Terren could not for the life of him understand how he had ended up in this situation.
Every exchange with that man did nothing but feed his killing intent, so he had been going out of his way to avoid the prince. And then, of all days, the day he slipped out of the Academy to learn dark magic, he had gotten into an altercation, gotten into a swordfight with his classmates, and on top of everything else, run into Leopold Delua.
His body was in terrible shape. His ears were ringing, but the grating, midge-like voice would not let up.
“…Now you’re ignoring me entirely. Well — you always did, but I can’t let it go anymore. I’m a prince. Even if I weren’t, I’m your classmate. Giving your classmate this kind of constant disrespect is genuinely rude. So—!”
Please, just shut up. Terren cursed inwardly. Then faltered at the words that followed.
“Answer me, please. I’m asking. I need to understand what’s actually happening before I can do anything about it. Even if I’m that repulsive to you, even if you hate me this much… you need to act smart. Right?”
Leopold smiled. Sixteen was such a young age. He was watching the corner of that young boy’s lips tremble beyond his control, the pupils shift and waver — and there was no way not to notice.
Wounded eyes struggling to hide what they felt. His smile was perfect — but Terren Meyer knew it was only because of Leopold’s extraordinary self-restraint.
The voice that pretended to be gentle still carried barbs that no human being could entirely conceal. The two fingers of his right hand could not stay still, rubbing against each other occasionally.
Ha…
A laugh escaped him. Foolish twenty-six-year-old Terren. Deep humiliation ached through his entire body. He tried to rein in the mana running riot within him and asked in a flat, even tone.
“If I tell you — what are you going to do about it?”
Leopold’s eyes went wide. The softened gaze, the expression that brightened in that peculiar way — none of it resembled in the slightest the last image of Leopold that Terren carried in his memory.
