Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Venting (2)

Let’s summarize the situation.

I definitely stood on the empire’s final battlefield and got caught up in the prince’s fight, which led to my death.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in the past, right before I was imprisoned.

The prince was right in front of me, so I decided to vent all my built-up anger and cursed him out with gusto.

Afterward, for some reason, I got drunk and passed out on the street.

And now, it’s the next day.

The morning sunlight is warm, and the ground is cool.

The eyes of passersby who meet mine are sharp, as if they’re looking at a drunkard.

‘Oh.’

…At this point, isn’t it obvious?

‘This isn’t a dream?’

In other words, this is reality.

I didn’t wake up from a dream after death but was somehow sent back to a point in the past.

As I grasped this, something came to mind.

— I’m counting on you.

The words spoken by that man before I died now seemed suspicious.

Those golden eyes, which shone unusually bright, turned my doubts into certainty.

‘Seriously? He really sent me back?’

Despite the absurdity, accepting it came easily.

At first, I thought, “What power could a prince possibly have to turn back time?” But then, upon reflection, I realized that if it was him, it might just be possible.

Forget the small stuff, and just look at the one thing that mattered.

He was the first Grand Master to appear in a thousand years since the first emperor.

The prince was a man who crossed what was considered a legendary threshold with ease, as if it was nothing—really, as naturally as breathing.

— Hmm, I’ll break through soon.

— What?

— It’s easier than I thought. This “legend.”

— What nonsense. Just sleep. Don’t mumble to yourself at dawn like an old man.

— Don’t be surprised tomorrow.

“Don’t be surprised” my foot.

I was shocked that day on the battlefield.

Golden sword auras rained down from the sky like a storm, and the man who did it just laughed like a bum.

How could I not be astonished?

For a while after that, I couldn’t even see the prince as human, and it wasn’t until he shouted across the barracks that he ran out of toilet paper while taking a dump that I was able to treat him normally again.

Anyway, that’s the kind of man he was.

If he could surpass the wall of legends, sending someone across time wouldn’t be a stretch.

“Hah, hahaha…”

A hollow laugh escaped my lips as I muttered to myself.

“…That crazy bastard?”

I didn’t care about his intentions.

The man himself had already told me what they were.

— I’m sending you to the past to beat me up. Make sure I get my head straight.

What a joke.

Sending me to the past?

Okay, fine.

It’s not too far-fetched, coming from someone like him.

And well, I’m alive instead of dead, so I guess I should be thankful.

But the thing is…

When I think about it, his request was utterly absurd.

According to the strict imperial law, even laying a hand on royalty is punishable by death.

And he’s the crown prince, no less.

Defying the crown prince?

Beating him into a pulp?

Instant execution.

I’d be swinging from the gallows, my head parting with my body with a neat thunk.

I was grinning about that when a thought hit me.

‘I can’t possibly do that sober…’

Freeze—

‘…Can I?’

My body stopped.

Something suddenly crossed my mind.

‘Now that I think about it, this isn’t a dream.’

So…

‘…What about yesterday?’

I started to recall everything I had said.

— Your Highness, please get a grip. Stop letting your lower half control your thinking for the love of gods. Or shall I take it upon myself to help you

First, there was the sexual harassment.

— You’re doing a fine job. You don’t attend banquets, you neglect your studies, you don’t even think about training, and the only thing you do is sneak out in secret. Truly, you’re the very model of a virtuous ruler, deeply interested in the lives of your people.

Next, sarcasm.

— I can’t stop farting. I hope you’ll understand. Or does it hit a nerve? Actually, if it doesn’t, it means you have no conscience.

Contempt.

And finally,

— Untie this. If you do, I’ll erase everything from my memory.

…I gave an order to royalty.

Realization struck.

Shiver—

Goosebumps crawled up my skin.

Tremors started at my fingertips and spread through my body.

A shock as if my soul had left me crashed through my mind.

My mouth fell open.

“Oh…”

…I’m screwed.

Upon being sent back in time, I immediately faced a death sentence.

Though this issue required some deep thought, I couldn’t help but feel unjustly burdened by the fact that, even in this second life, I couldn’t shake the label of “criminal.”

‘What did I do that was so wrong?’

There was no point in asking the heavens.

If the heavens were capable of answering, they wouldn’t have let the empire fall.

Or maybe they stayed silent because the empire was doomed.

Anyway,

Grrrr—

My stomach ached.

I wanted a hangover remedy.

But after checking my pockets, I realized how drunk I’d been the previous night—every bit of jewelry I had was gone.

I was in no position to beg for food.

I was Yuren Pharos of the great Pharos family.

No matter how much of a delinquent I’d been, even after combing through all my memories, there wasn’t a single instance of Yuren Pharos begging.

I couldn’t very well start now.

As I contemplated my options,

‘…Wait.’

A thought crept into my mind.

‘Why don’t I just go home?’

This is 20 years in the past.

Back when the Pharos family was still alive and well.

Surprisingly, I, Yuren Pharos, was still a homeowner.

No, a mansion owner…!

‘Right. I have a home. Why didn’t I think of that?’

Well, that’s because, ever since I became an adult, I’ve spent all my time behind bars or in barracks.

Twenty years is more than enough time to erase the concept of “home” from one’s mind.

Anyway, that reflection lasted only a moment.

I jumped to my feet.

‘The house is…’

I looked around.

Straight down the main road leads to the imperial palace.

The nobles’ boutiques are to the right, and the noble estates are to the left.

Further down is the commoner district.

Once I remembered that, I recalled the location of my house.

‘Ah.’

The Pharos mansion isn’t nearby.

I looked far into the distance.

The mansion was on the far outskirts of the capital.

On a hill overlooking the palace.

* * *

As I walked, old memories began to resurface.

‘I used to walk this road often at dawn.’

After drinking all night, I’d pass through the commoner district and head home, facing the east wall.

Because from there, you could see the rising sun beyond the wall.

Seeing the grandeur of nature makes people sentimental, doesn’t it?

I was no exception.

During those moments, I’d buy cheap rum from a nearby pub and drink it as I walked.

This was that very alley, and I saw a flower field as I moved further along.

‘This was Pharos land.’

Despite being noble territory, this place had no fences.

What was it again?

Something about the teachings of an ancestor, who said we shouldn’t build barriers between ourselves and the people.

Although, it’s funny because the area around the mansion was heavily fenced in.

The flowers grew wild and untamed since it wasn’t a managed garden, and anyone could wander in.

While it wasn’t the season for it now, soon enough, young couples and children from the capital would come to see the blooming flowers.

I recalled all these little things.

And at the end of it, I could see it.

‘…That’s my house.’

It’s been almost 20 years.

After I got out of prison, when I visited, everything had burned to the ground, leaving not even ashes.

It was so thoroughly destroyed that I could barely tell anything had ever stood there.

Now, standing here, a flood of emotions washed over me.

‘Was it always this small?’

The mansion in my memory was a bit bigger.

A bit more suffocating, a bit more oppressive.

But look at it now.

On the hill, there was nothing but a modest three-story stone mansion, sitting quietly.

The fence seemed low enough to jump over easily, and the neatly tended garden exuded a cozy, homely atmosphere.

Suddenly, I found myself questioning something.

“What had been so suffocating about this place?”

What kind of person had I been in the past?

How twisted had I become to find even this stifling and run off from home every time?

The thought made me chuckle.

As I continued walking, a familiar face greeted me.

“M-My lord…!”

“…Venter.”

It was Baron Venter Elliot, a vassal of the family.

His eyes widened in surprise as he spotted me while pacing anxiously in the garden.

His snow-white hair and wrinkled face were comforting.

His straight posture and dignified steps reminded me, even now, of his strictness and formality.

Venter quickly walked toward me, and I muttered,

“It’s been a while.”

To which he responded, his voice full of frustration.

“Yes, yes! It’s been quite a while! And what on earth brings you back this morning after another night of your outings?!”

Hearing his familiar scolding filled me with a sense of nostalgia, and it struck me then.

‘Ah, I see.’

To them, I was still nothing but the same scoundrel who went out drinking last night and had only just crawled back home this morning.

I thought for a moment.

Would he believe me if I told him I had gone through unimaginable hardships, become a Sword Master, died, and then returned to the past?

‘…No, of course not.’

I shook my head.

Even if I told him, I’d only be treated like a madman.

The nostalgia was mine alone to bear.

‘Now, let’s see…’

What kind of person had I been in the past…?

Right. I had been something like this.

“I just felt like getting drunk.”

“And when do you ever not feel like getting drunk?”

“……”

“My lord, please…!”

Venter’s face was on the verge of tears.

I felt a twinge of guilt.

As I averted my gaze, Venter let out a deep sigh.

“My lord.”

“Venter, I don’t feel well. I just want to eat something and get some sleep.”

“That won’t do, sir.”

“Do I have to collapse here from an upset stomach?”

“Even then, sir!”

Venter raised his voice, which was rare.

Something felt off.

In my memory, Venter had never been this firm before.

“What’s going on?”

Had my memories been sugar-coated by time?

The thought crossed my mind just as he spoke.

“The Lady has been waiting for you all night. She hasn’t slept a wink!”

My thoughts came to a halt at those words.

* * *

I returned to the mansion after twenty years.

Yet, my heart was far from calm.

I didn’t find myself recalling memories of the decorations, the objects, or the layout of the mansion.

All those thoughts blurred as I thought of the person in the office on the third floor.

During this, Venter kept speaking.

“The Lady was truly worried.”

“…I’m sure she was.”

“She sat at the dining table for over an hour, fearing you’d lost track of time.”

“…Yes, that sounds like her.”

“She couldn’t bring herself to touch the food. The servants ate the cold meal, and the Lady never even went to her bed, fearing something had happened to you. Even when she heard you were out reveling in the streets, her concern never faded. When she finally learned you were safe… she looked so relieved yet so heartbroken.”

That was such a typical thing for my sister to do.

At that moment, a forgotten memory resurfaced.

‘That’s right…’

The day I was imprisoned, it had been one of the rare occasions when I had accepted my sister’s persistent invitation to dinner.

I had grown so tired of her begging that I finally agreed.

And then what happened…?

‘I was insulted by the prince.’

I was imprisoned shortly after that.

My sister didn’t learn of it until two days later, and when she came to visit me, she said these words:

— Are you hurt, my dear brother?

She had smiled like a fool, thin and haggard.

I was too young to understand then.

It was only much later that I realized the weight of my sins.

The memory stabbed at my heart and filled me with guilt that had never faded, no matter how many times I tried to forget.

It would have been a relief if all I did was recall the past.

But today was not the past.

I saw the familiar wooden door with its distinct scent of aged timber.

Beyond this door was my sister.

Venter knocked softly.

“Lady, your brother is here.”

A voice came from within.

— Let him in.

I felt my resolve tremble.

That faint, almost disappearing voice echoed in my ears, becoming more real with each passing moment.

The door opened, and I saw her with my own eyes.

Long gray hair, just like mine, flowed down her back.

Her blue eyes gleamed, identical to my own.

But unlike me, wild and unruly like a young stallion, my sister gave off a delicate, ethereal air.

That’s how others saw her, at least.

Then I noticed her thin, fragile arms.

And the deep shadows under her eyes, evidence of her exhaustion.

Cecilia Pharos.

The woman who had protected this family in place of a wayward younger brother like me.

The woman who had spent her entire life waiting for a brother who rotted away in prison, only to perish alongside our family in the end.

I suppressed the emotions that swelled within me.

I was about to bow my head when I heard footsteps, and before I knew it, she was standing right in front of me.

She placed her hand on my cheek.

Then she quietly moved her lips.

“My dear brother.”

And then she smiled.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

She smiled just like that—haggard, foolish, but relieved.

Just like the day I was imprisoned.

My sister, unchanged from my memory.

“I heard you slept on the streets. Is your stomach alright?”

The words caught in my throat.

Breathing became difficult.

It felt as if a heavy stone was crushing my lungs.

Because my sister looked so pitiful, and it was my fault she had become so.

And at the same time, I felt disgustingly grateful that I could see her face again.

I bowed my head and answered at the height of these overwhelming emotions.

“Yes, I am fine.”

Those were the words.

My sister was the only person in this world who could make me feel like a sinner.

———-