Mystery Tales Under the Moonlight

Chapter 52: Things Remain the Same, But People Change (4).

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In a forest where winter lingered, a seemingly simple yet charming cabin nestled among the trees.

Unlike the chill outside, warmth filled the interior. A fireplace glowed near a young man's chair.

He sat wrapped in a blanket from his midsection to his legs, enjoying the warmth of the cold winter.

His smile was peaceful.

"Hmm… So, how do I utilize this person now?"

His thoughts were starkly different from the scene before him.

The red-eyed young man sat near a bandaged corpse lying motionless on a bed.

The sun hadn't fully risen; the remnants of night still lingered. Dawn had broken.

Leon didn't have a permanent dwelling. He temporarily used a Traveler's House Ego.

This Ego was used by travelers across the world. Sleeping in the open, with the dangers of wild beasts and other threats, was impractical.

These Egos either formed naturally in specific environments or were refined by someone.

For instance, the Small Cave Ego took thirty years to mature within ancient cave rock formations before becoming usable.

Leon's Traveler's House Ego, however, was unique. Its form changed based on its user's personality and experiences, requiring more significant refinement.

Despite their differences, both types consumed magical energy and willpower to function.

Their usage requirements were simple: a certain amount of magical energy was needed. If insufficient, it was supplemented by willpower, emotions, and thoughts.

The required quantity and duration?

This varied among Egos, even within the same type, making it unknown until used for a while.

This inherent risk existed: some Egos could consume the user's willpower to awaken their own consciousness.

If the relationship between the person and the Ego was good, there was no problem.

But in the case of hidden animosity?

The rest was easily guessed.

"From the information I've gathered, the Storm Wolves and Lightning Wolves tribe leaders fell into an unknown illness, the young masters are competing for leadership of their clans… everyone is choosing sides, meaning war in the forest is imminent."

This explained a lot.

Apparently, the academy feared students unwittingly participating in the conflict, thus canceling the third part of the exam.

Why didn't they just eliminate these half-breeds?

"Not all humans and beasts are enemies. Moreover, the natural order of the northern forest would collapse if they did so. The beast tribes form the basis of the area's balance; their extermination would require unnecessary resources and sacrifice."

Leon was slightly curious. What would the academy's stance be on the tribal conflict?

"This young man is the only son of the Storm Wolves' Elder Chief. His death will cause significant repercussions. The other fool didn't realize that much of the other tribes' fear stemmed from his savage talent. With his disappearance, other young masters can shine."

In his pointless fear and jealousy, Gunnar overlooked this obvious truth.

"But wait, I should thank you instead, right?"

As he sat in his rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth, Leon's eyes fixated on the sleeping, injured young man.

Despite his deep sleep, copious tears streamed down his face.

He was most likely blaming himself.

The loss of his mother, the unknown truth of her death, the loss of his dear friend who turned out to be his enemy.

Such truths were too much for most to bear, regardless of age.

"For me, seeing such scenes of relatives killing each other was normal, but not for him. This must weigh heavily on his heart."

From his earliest memories, he only recalled seeing white.

No memories of a mother or father's face, only people in white looking at him emotionlessly.

Over time, he learned to become emotionless, too.

Normally, someone like Leon wouldn't understand him.

But life doesn't flow in one direction.

Incidents arise, and people see new things.

Leon sighed lightly.

He understood this poor young man's pain.

But that was all.

Leon's understanding didn't equate to sympathy.

If he wanted to exploit him and control the area, he needed to pull him out of his misery first.

If Ragnar overcomes this, he'll rise to new heights. He might even find new meaning in life.

If he doesn't…

It's better for him to remain dead.

"Faceless, I know you're here. Show yourself."

After closing his eyes for a moment, Leon spoke.

"Your orders, my Lord."

Outside the Traveler's House Ego, now resembling a simple cabin, fog spread across the area.

When it cleared, a figure wearing a white mask appeared, half-kneeling.

The eyes behind the mask were a mixture of red and black; his hair was silver.

"Have you spread news of my arrival?"

Rocking gently in his chair, Leon asked calmly.

Mmm~ this chair is very comfortable; I almost melt…

A relaxed smile crept onto his face.

"Yes, my Lord. The Fog Hall, the Mad Devil Unit, the Black Moon Hall, the Yellow Field Doctor's Building—excluding branches outside the island—all know of your arrival and await your orders."

"Good. Are they well? I hope they haven't made a fuss."

"…Everyone is well, my Lord. Some wept profusely, some wanted to celebrate your return; otherwise, no problems have arisen."

"Hehehe," Leon chuckled, "I think I know who cried profusely. I'll tease them about it later."

"My Lord, if I may, may I join you in this?"

"Hmm?Did they tire you out with them to that degree?"

Faceless didn't answer but nodded wearily.

"I suppose… it's fine."

"Thank you, my Lord." Faceless's voice brightened slightly. "So, what are your orders?"

"This young man behind me. Do you know who he is?"

"…Isn't this Reynard's son, the eldest of the Storm Wolf tribe?"

"Correct. In your opinion, what caused his condition?"

"Is it the result of an enemy attack or an internal conflict? No… the Fog Hall couldn't possibly miss such a thing. He's a victim of betrayal."

"Quick-witted as always. Can you guess the traitor?"

"There were suspicious movements from the second son of the tribe leader. Since he was the closest to the Elder Chief's son, he's the most likely candidate."

"Hard to anticipate, isn't it? I was secretly watching them to wipe them out and blame the Lightning Wolves. Of course, I would have also killed the Lightning Wolves' sons and done the same."

Faceless understood his lord's plan. He said gravely, "This will leave the forest in chaos, giving you, my Lord, the chance to seize their ranks amidst the confusion in one blow before other tribes interfere. But who would expect…"

"There was such a plot by that foolish young man indeed," Leon laughed heartily.

"Is… that why you saved him, my Lord?"

"You understand me perfectly. Yes, I intend to make him the ruler of the forest under my command. As you see… I hate the noise in the place I live."

"The noise will be eliminated as you wish, my Lord."

Leon didn't need to state his intentions for his subordinate to understand.

"Shall I take him to the Yellow Field Doctor to heal his wounds now?"

"Yes, but don't attach his missing leg immediately. There's something I want to confirm. Otherwise, deal with him according to your judgment."

"As you command."

Leon left his temporary abode, his body floating in the air, leaving his final orders.

With Leon's disappearance, the fog spread and engulfed the area.

Swish~

With a gust of wind, the humans vanished, leaving the cabin empty.

* * * * * *

Crack!

The training dummy in front of the young boy shattered into three pieces, scattered in the air.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

As if still unsatisfied, he kicked the remains into the air. With a swipe of his claws, he tore the remnants into even smaller pieces.

Even after finishing his training, his agitation didn't subside.

He was still furious.

After a moment of standing in silence, the boy felt empty.

When anger and frustration disappear, people notice their actions. Seeing the result often leaves an unpleasant feeling.

Looking at the training area, the same sense of unease gripped him.

Rocks littered the place, broken dummies lay scattered, scratches marred the sand and fence of his training ground.

With such a sight, he felt he had overdone it, leaving him only with unpleasant emotions.

"…Just because I'm a bit strong, all they think about is this and ostracize me."

It's not my fault I was born like this.

Ragnar was upset by his cousins' treatment; they were scared of him, calling him a monster every time they saw him.

Not only the young ones, but even the adults were intimidating. Their eyes were full of greed, as if they were looking at a valuable object, not a living being.

Ragnar was born with a strong physique and keen instincts. He learned quickly and applied his knowledge rapidly; he was the son of the tribe's elder chief.

He was fortunate, and he knew it.

He didn't care about others' acknowledgment or their view of him as talented. He was sensitive to such things and didn't like having expectations placed upon him.

Alas, things weren't that easy.

When someone is excessively strong or talented, people don't understand or try to understand them.

For most creatures, the talented lived in different worlds; they didn't bother understanding these strange beings.

This was something Ragnar didn't know about others, and something others didn't know about him.

This was a truth, and truth was often painful, painfully ignored.

"…Looks like someone's about to cry?"

As young Ragnar sat trying to stifle his frustration, he heard a laughing voice behind him.

"Mother!"

He didn't need to turn around; he immediately jumped toward his mother and hugged her.

"Hohoho~ Will the sun rise from the west tomorrow? It's strange that you're clinging to me like this, my little one."

Ragnar's mother was slightly surprised but accepted the hug, gently ruffling his hair.

Young Ragnar didn't speak, burying his face deeper into her embrace.

"…What's bothering you so much?"

She intended to tease him a little, but seeing her son's silence, she knew he was having a hard time.

The boy didn't speak.

The mother didn't push him; she held him as if he were a baby, lovingly stroking his head.

Time passed in silence.

Once upon a time, in a land far away…

"There was a young boy…"

The mother began, holding her now-grown child like an infant.

The boy possessed strength and wisdom that helped him understand many things. Because of this, people expected great things from him.

Young Ragnar listened silently. Whenever he was sad or troubled, his mother told him a story.

The boy was a source of hope for his people; they treated him as a seed containing a bright future.

That was joyous news.

But…

Because he was strong and intelligent, many didn't want to connect with him for his knowledge. They wanted what he had because he could help them.

The boy felt sad. All he wanted was to be normal. He wanted to be treated like one of them. Yet, they were far from understanding each other.

Ordinary people, a gifted boy.

A wall separated them; that wall was called aspirations and meaning.

The boy's body trembled slightly in her arms, as if disbelieving.

He'd done his best to hide it; how did she know?

His mother smiled and tightened her hug.

"He did his best to talk to others and become friends with them. At first, he succeeded. But over time, he noticed what others said behind his back; hurtful words."

"He got angry and asked them why they did that if they were truly his friends. Their answer was something he didn't want to hear."

"…Because he was strong?"

Young Ragnar answered softly. Why did this story resemble his situation so much?

"Correct. They said he was strong, that it was beneficial to them, but no one loved him; they treated him like a monster because they feared him. They told him he wasn't a person."

"My son, do you know what happened to that boy?"

"Did he feel sad?"

"At first, yes."

The mother sat in a nearby chair, her clear eyes gazing into her sad son's.

"But over time, he felt it was alright."

"Alright? Is there meaning in that?"

The young boy's previous aspirations were to get along with others; his people's aspirations were for him to become their leader; they were afraid to shoulder that responsibility.

His people, who wanted him to walk before them, the boy who wanted to walk beside them.

There was no way to reconcile their differing ideas.

The meaning they understood related to the boy's abilities.

They didn't want him to lead them; they wanted his "abilities".

After grieving for a while, understanding the truth, his mind found peace.

The meaning he finally understood had been before his eyes all along.

"My son, what is that meaning?"

The boy raised his lowered head to meet his mother's bright smile.

"…The truth?" He opened his mouth uncertainly.

"That's half the answer, but I'll give you a perfect score since your uncertain face is cute."

The mother tickled the boy's nose with a gentle smile.

"The thing he understood was that truth is harsh, but…"

"But what?" The boy asked blankly.

"But truth is what makes the heart pure. No matter how sweet a lie, its end is painful. And no matter how painful the truth, its end is purity."

"Why?"

Because that's how things should be.

A lie means things go as we want them to.

Truth means things go as they should.

That's why people loved lies and feared the truth.

"With this understanding, what meaning did the young boy overlook?"

Ragnar's eyes sparkled as he asked; he didn't fully understand but focused on his mother's words.

Perhaps…

Perhaps one day in his life, he would understand the meanings behind her words.

"My son, between doing what others want from you and doing what you want, which do you prefer?"

"…To do what I want?"

"That's what the boy overlooked in the story, and that's what our little one overlooked, too."

Instead of doing what his people wanted.

Instead of doing what he thought they wanted.

He dug deep into his heart. In the end, his desire was simpler than anyone imagined.

"Strong, intelligent, and of excellent status. He can eat as he pleases and has a roof over his head; he carries the expectations of many. What did he want while having so much already?"

"…To be loved." The boy's voice trembled.

True, the boy didn't want to be treated as an object of admiration and respect.

He wanted to laugh with others, smile at each other's jokes, and train together.

He wanted people to "love" him for who he was, not for what made him who he was.

Instead of knowing him as the hope of his people, he wanted to be known as a "person".

"When the boy understood this, he laughed at himself. Why do you think?" The mother asked cryptically.

"…I don't know."

"Because he forgot to love himself."

"To give himself love?"

The boy replied, trembling.

How did he forget such a simple truth!

The mother laughed at his frown. He was young, with a whole life ahead of him, but he was already trying to understand everything at once.

Anyone seeing the boy like this would be happy.

But not her. Before her son was intelligent and talented, he was her son.

It wasn't good for a child to be always wise.

Children should act like children.

Early maturity was something she would prevent with all her might.

"You're intelligent," the mother praised, "but just as stupid. While you're sad that others don't accept you, why did you forget that love comes from within?"

"There's no need to say it so bluntly…" the boy complained slightly.

"There is a need, my son. You may not understand it now, but there will come a day in your life when you need to know this. Don't expect others to accept what's in you if you don't do so yourself."

"But… what if no one loves me even then?"

The boy said anxiously.

"Humph, that's their loss for not accepting my wonderful son!" the mother said proudly. "Even so, it's alright, isn't it?"

"Alright?"

"Of course. Did you forget? I'm here with you. Your mother will always love you, no matter how life changes or even if no one else accepts you. This will never change because, my son, you are The most precious person I love is you ."

"…Father will be sad if he hears you say that," the boy chuckled.

"He mustn't know."

The two laughed together for a while, then silence fell.

Only the sound of the wind could be heard.

After a short time, the boy closed his eyes slightly, his gaze becoming blurry.

He didn't know why, how, or even when.

But the moment he noticed it, tears flowed from his eyes.

His mother's smile in his blurry vision was beautiful.

"My son, don't let sadness make you regret. Stay strong always; I'll always watch your back."

"And who knows? Perhaps you'll find people who recognize you, even if not in the way you expect."

"So never forget…"

I will always love you.

The boy was happy; his mother didn't break her promise. She watched over him throughout his life until he became a young man, always with him.

He thought they would overcome difficulties together.

But…

One day…

His mother died in his fifteenth spring.

His mother left that day, taking his heart with her forever.

On that day, It wasn't just one person who died.

What died wasn't his body.

It was his Soul.