I’m Not That Kind of Talent - Chapter 141

141. Cracked Dam (6)

I was blinking blankly, but Stigma quietly called to me as if he had been observing me the whole time.

“Junior… do you know that your mood fluctuates between extremes?”

“yes?”

“It looks quite dangerous, but I’d like to ask if you can guarantee that there will be no problem.”

“yes?”

“…It’s not an area I can touch, so no matter what the answer is, the result will be the same.”

After saying that, he reached out his hand and lightly brushed the area around my eyes.

“But you’re not crying now. That’s a good thing. “It will be troublesome if something like this happens often, so I hope it can be resolved as soon as possible.”

“….”

You saw it all.

There was a short silence.

With only the military doctor busy, the nagging that seemed to have ended, as if the previous conversation had been treated as if it had never happened, continued.

“I’m sure my junior could have avoided it at that time. Is not it?”

“…yes.”

“Of course, killing a general is important. However, if that method involves thrusting yourself into the enemy’s weapon and risking injury to kill him, then I would give him the worst possible score. “You should have avoided me at that time.”

Brown eyes look again at the healing wound.

I’m not sure because I’m under anesthesia, but how serious is it? Just as I was about to slowly turn my head to look at the wound, Stigma pressed down on my head.

“Don’t move as it may interfere with the treatment. “Do you know why the enemies retreated when you killed the demon general?”

Is that because the general died?

“It’s because I was nearby. If all you did was simply kill the general, there was no way you would just leave behind a good, injured prey. Even if I retreated, I would have killed my junior and retreated.”

“….”

“Do you understand? “The judgment my junior made today was the worst.”

It’s really hitting my bones…

I know, but it still hurts.

“We killed the general, but our junior was also seriously injured, and we failed to boost the morale of our troops. However, it did not reduce the morale of the enemies. As a result, the allies had no choice but to let go of the retreating enemies. why? “Because my junior, one of the people with high status and status here, was seriously injured.”

“….”

“We need to quickly stop the battle and look at my junior’s wounds, because if we keep blocking the retreat, the battle will never end.”

The battle continues whether a single soldier dies or not, but the higher the rank, the more sensitive he or she becomes to death and injury. Its influence is such that it can even influence whether to stop fighting and retreat.

“I’m not saying your junior’s behavior itself is the worst. It was just bad judgment. “Such actions should only be used when there is really no other way, after carefully examining the situation.”

“….”

“Your junior wouldn’t have made a foolish decision without a reason…”

I wish I could just move on without mentioning anything.

It’s just that I didn’t have the confidence to fight in this mental and physical condition, so I just wanted to grab a general and show off.

“I think it was due to my junior’s unusual condition, but I guess that’s why I made the wrong decision, right? Rational thinking seemed impossible. “If you think about it, this shoulder is not a wound caused by being completely distracted during the war.”

When I came to my senses, I was embarrassed because the war was in full swing.

Ah, thinking about it again makes me crave medicine again.

“…You’re mesmerized again.”

“ah.”

“Okay, junior, you must be tired too, so it would be better to get some rest. It looks like the treatment is over, so go in. “I’ll clean up after you.”

He left. Even the military doctor left, saying that the treatment was complete, and stood up while fiddling with the bandage on his shoulder.

Dan, who heard the news of my injury and ran out nearby during the treatment, quickly comes over and puts a coat on me. Even though it wasn’t, I felt cold as the cold air touched my bare skin, so I quickly took it and put on my coat.

“…I’ve felt this every time, but each knight has a strong personality.”

“hmm?”

I thought they were going to lead me right inside, but suddenly I heard something out of the blue.

I glanced at Dan, then turned my eyes to follow his gaze.

‘…ah.’

Dan’s gaze fell on the three knights lined up under Stigma’s command. To be exact, the attire of the three knights.

A murderer covered in blood from head to toe… The Lofty Knights.

A nameless group of knights dressed in appropriately blood-splattered clothing, as if they had just fought a normal battle.

The Knights of Stigma maintain a strangely neat appearance.

‘No, Stigma is almost at the level of tearing his enemies to pieces when he fights, so how can he maintain such a neat appearance?’

The same goes for his knights.

Similar to their master, they never had a calm fighting style. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

A wild beast let off its leash.

Yes, I can define it in just one word. And yet, it was clean without a single drop of blood…

As I was standing still and admiring it, Dan, who was busy looking at the three knights with his eyes, muttered softly.

“…Three stages in which a person becomes soaked in blood….”

“Phew.”

“….”

“….”

Let’s go in.

***

Does your junior know? Every chance they get, there are people who try to take their lives.

Even in the military camp, which provides a place to rest even on the battlefield.

“Keuuuu-.”

“I don’t want to make a fuss, so please be quiet. Otherwise, everyone is tired from the battle, but I can’t rest because of you.”

Your life isn’t worth that much.

Stigma tightened the hand strangling his neck and raised the corners of his mouth.

“Who sent it?”

Although my junior has many enemies due to his political position, it is not to the extent that many people come here without any break. So, rather than several people sending one or two people at a time, it would be one person persistently sending many people. If you just find that person and kill him, things will be resolved smoothly.

Even so, my junior is not in a good condition these days, and on top of that, these flies have been caught in his way.

“Idiots who don’t even know the dangers of this war.”

You just want to ruin the human world, right?

Wow.

“…Such a mistake.”

Just killed it.

For a moment, I couldn’t control my strength. He shrugged his shoulders and laid down the still warm body, then raised his head and fixed his eyes on a certain place.

“Do you know where they come from?”

“….”

“There is no answer. “If you hadn’t been dealing with the attackers coming towards you, junior, you too would have died by my hands.”

Perhaps my junior knows that too, so he is keeping it alive.

I can feel the shadows getting tense in the darkness. Stigma laughed and turned his back as if he was not interested.

“I hope you take good care of your junior.”

***

Cruel arrived at his office as usual, opened the door, and paused for a moment at the scene unfolding before his eyes. A familiar feeling of déjà vu arose.

“What are you doing if you don’t come in?”

“…Your Excellency the Duke.”

When did it happen? It wasn’t that long ago. The duke was in the office at that time too.

I wasn’t that surprised, perhaps because I was used to it since I had already experienced it once, but the small round table in the middle of the room, which seemed to have changed the structure of the furniture at will, was a bit unexpected, so my eyes immediately landed on the changed furniture.

“Lord Cruel.”

“….”

At a short prompting, Cruel, who looked alternately at the chessboard on the table and the smiling peacock sitting in front of it, silently closed the door and came in.

As if there was some kind of wind blowing, the Duke offered me a seat across from him and smiled.

I was always smiling, but perhaps because of my mood, I had a particularly uncomfortable smile.

“It looks like you enjoy playing chess. Would you like to play a game with me?”

It’s ominous. The instincts trained as a prosecutor were warning of danger.

However, it is an unavoidable situation.

“…Gladly.”

Cruel obediently followed his words.

Takkak. Just right.

The chess pieces are placed without hesitation, as if any hesitation has been thrown away. Turns change quickly without time delay, and each person’s eyes move busily, examining the opponent’s movements and the resulting change in the game.

They were too busy concentrating on the small world that was running without stopping, so the conversation between those coordinating from above was a luxury. In fact, the last conversation between the two was probably before the game started.

[What color are you going to choose?]

[…I will choose white.]

[I see.]

Cruel is white and the Duke is black.

─Just right.

‘….’

The flow was broken. Purple eyes take their eyes off the board and slowly look at Cruel. The eyes, which had completely hidden emotions, were examining the other person tenaciously as if trying to uncover their intentions.

The white horse was placed in the wrong place. It is a place that is not even a bait, much less an attack, but an imaginary number.

“…I received a very interesting note.”

The situation was clearly one in which Cruel had the upper hand.

The duke pretended not to notice and began speaking slowly.

“I thought it would be good to see the landscape, so I came here in person.”

“….”

Takkak.

The tables have turned. If it weren’t for Cruel’s mistake, this would never have happened.

─No, is that really a mistake?

The White camp, which was gaining momentum, collapses. The black words that did not miss the opportunity gradually became suffocating, and eventually.

“Checkmate.”

The Duke won.

The Duke stretched out his hand and picked up the white king, rolling it in his hand and then putting it down as if he was throwing it. What was thrown in front of Cruel was not only chess pieces.

A small note lying around next to a chess piece.

Cruel, who was staring at it, couldn’t resist the Duke’s gaze telling him to open it, so he slowly stretched out his hand.

“….”

It was a report note that always came.

The problem is that it is a report note personally requested by Cruel, not the Duke.

A report on the request to protect Deon Hardt, how many people attacked Deon Hardt and how many were dealt with just today.

The Duke, who waited patiently for his green eyes to focus on me again, met my gaze and smiled.

“Unfortunately, there was no name of the client.”

Although I am already convinced.

Just because you got that note means you already know everything. You can’t get it without knowing the route through which messages are sent.

Cruel kept his mouth shut even though he knew that he was playing with his neck, as if giving a cornered rat some breathing room. Since the note was revealed, he was in a position where he had to bow down.

The Duke traced the note with his finger, fixing his gaze on Cruel.

“Lord Cruel. “Is this note yours?”

What answer should I give?

Cruel seemed to know what answer he wanted.

“I don’t know.”

“….”

“….”

There was no further conversation beyond that. The two quietly looked into each other’s eyes as if something big would happen if they avoided eye contact first, and the subtle tension was cut off when the duke opened his eyes first.

He picked up the note again and made a strange voice.

“Isn’t that right?”

Grumbling.

A note thrown into the fireplace burns up in an instant. Cruel’s eyes turned towards him for a moment and

he said, “Kneel.”

The green eyes returned to their original position at the words, which did not match the neat behavior of the duke, who was leaning against the back of a chair with his legs crossed and his clasped hands placed neatly on his knees.

Cruel, who was looking at the Duke calmly without answering, stands up and slowly kneels down on one knee. The duke, who was quietly looking at him, spoke in a low voice.

“more.”

“….”

The mask of laughter was removed and a cool expressionless expression was revealed, staring at Cruel. Cruel, who made eye contact with him for a moment, lowered his eyes and bent his remaining knee.

“….”

There is no answer even though both knees touch the floor.

In response, both palms touched the floor and the head was lowered. The head, which was lowered until there was an answer, stopped only after the forehead touched the floor.

Perfect prostration.