77.
Cedric looked straight at Gaon and said,
“Don’t deceive Lady Irina. You don’t need to take me as your disciple.”
“Hah? Where does that confidence come from? Do you even know how much Irina is working just to keep you out of the temple?”
“I heard you also went into the temple, but escaped quickly.”
“That’s right. I became one of the Ten Strong at the youngest age. It was harder for them to lock me up than to just let me go.”
“I will be the same.”
“Kid, the world isn’t that easy.”
Their eyes met. Cedric answered with no expression,
“I know very well.”
Gaon smirked.
“You know that, yet you sound so sure of yourself.”
“Yes. Because now I’ve learned—I do have talent.”
“……”
“I’m not completely useless. I’ve realized I can protect the people I care about, with my sword and my own strength.”
Cedric’s eyes were steady.
“So I will become stronger. If I’m going to be strong anyway, it doesn’t matter where it happens.”
He walked past Gaon.
As he did, his hand brushed his cheek—the place Irina had wiped clean with her own hand.
“Jerat……”
He whispered softly.
He could never forgive Jerat for trying to use him to put Irina in a difficult position. In fact, Cedric could never forgive anyone who made things hard for her. Even if that person was Gaon.
Cedric clenched his fist.
The feeling of cutting down the monster still lingered in his hand.
[If you want to protect, you must become stronger.]
For once, the voice inside him gave the right guidance. Cedric stared ahead, lost in thought.
Only hours ago, Gaon had been fighting fiercely for his life. And now… he found himself playing pretend with children.
It was ridiculous.
Weren’t these two supposed to be thirteen? Weren’t they supposed to be more mature than other kids their age? Yet here they were, playing like little ones.
“I’m the healer, Cedric.”
Irina said this seriously, and Cedric nodded with the same serious face. Gaon frowned.
“Aren’t you both thirteen? You’ll be going to the Academy next year. Isn’t this the kind of game eight-year-olds play?”
“Hm, but Cedric and I play differently.”
“What?”
“Our game is on a higher level.”
Irina spoke in a serious tone.
“Sir Cedric, your mana is twisted. In this case, you need to use a magic circle and focus on your upper dantian…”
She continued,
“And if you’re caught in an illusion spell, then willpower is the most important…”
Gaon blinked. Okay, this was definitely different.
But then he pointed something out.
“Wait. Why is a healer teaching about illusion magic?”
“Because I went to the battlefield. Healers there have to learn magic knowledge too.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Geniuses like me just know things.”
“Even geniuses can’t know what they’ve never experienced.”
As soon as he said that, Gaon shut his mouth.
Because both Irina and Cedric had stopped speaking and were staring at him.
“Sir Gaon, if you keep interrupting, we won’t play with you.”
Gaon stared at them with a serious face. Their game wasn’t childish—it was more like they were preparing for war.
And what Irina had said was actually true. Battlefield healers really did study magic and treatments. But how could Irina, a thirteen-year-old girl who had never left Redus Castle, know such things?
‘I don’t get it. This family is really strange.’
Gaon made up his mind.
The sooner he finished his temple business, the sooner he could get out of this place.
“All done. You’re healed now.”
“Thank you.”
“Cedric, did you memorize everything I taught you today?”
“Yes, I memorized it all.”
Cedric stood up from pretending to be a patient, his face completely serious. It was so funny Gaon almost laughed.
‘Wait. He was a patient a second ago, and now suddenly he’s a student?’
This wasn’t just play anymore—it was something else entirely.
“Alright, next patient. Come in, Sir Gaon.”
Though it was ridiculous, Gaon found himself rolling up his sleeve under Irina’s determined gaze.
A deep scar was revealed.
“See?” he said with a smirk.
Half of it was mischief.
His body was full of scars—cut by swords, pierced by spears, bitten by monsters. But never once had he healed himself with holy power.
Gaon’s holy power was only used to take lives, never to save. It was his rebellion against the god who gave power to filth like the High Priest.
He had sworn never to use it for himself.
Of course, human healing had its limits, and his body had been left in ruins. Unless he became a transcendent being who could rebuild his flesh, these scars would never disappear.
Usually, when children saw his scars, they burst into tears and ran away. So he expected Irina to do the same.
“That must have hurt.”
But Irina didn’t run. She touched the scar gently.
She was the first child who hadn’t flinched at his scars.
‘No… there was one before.’
He almost thought he could hear that child’s voice again, whispering in his ear.
But that was a story from long ago. So long ago it had worn thin, hard even to remember anymore.
Scars… one day they heal and fade. The marks may remain, but the pain lessens over time.
That child in his memory was the same. A child who had always looked at him with such a desperate smile… now gone, buried in the past.
“Brother, are you alright?”
Gaon’s face twisted.
“I don’t hurt anymore.”
“Really?”
“It’s old.”
“Just because it’s old doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“…What?”
“Sometimes, even old wounds still ache for me.”
Her words pierced his chest like a blade.
Gaon stared into Irina’s clear eyes. His heart throbbed painfully.
Irina gently stroked his scar, as if wishing it would stop hurting.
“Some wounds never heal, even when they’re old. We just… try to forget them.”
“……”
“We wait, hoping that one day they’ll fade away.”
Gaon lowered his arm, feeling strange.
Irina only smiled softly and turned back to Cedric, starting another strange game.
Gaon sat stunned, watching. In their small hands, they were weaving flower crowns. Irina placed one on Cedric’s head.
“It’s pretty.”
Gaon felt like he had seen this scene somewhere before. It was absurd. A flower crown?
But Irina didn’t stop there—she placed one on his head too. He was speechless.
Since becoming one of the Ten Strong, no one had ever dared do something so disrespectful. In fact, no one even dared to come near him.
This silly crown. He reached to tear it off.
He wanted to shout that he didn’t need such things.
That he hadn’t come here to play these games.
…But then, why was he here?
Irina smiled brightly at him, her eyes curved into crescents.
“You look pretty, Sir Gaon.”
And in that moment, he heard another voice echo in his ears.
“You look pretty, my brother.”
