CHAPTER 122: THE COWARD AND HIS SHADOW

"That was not me. It was Libertus over there who acted on his own."

Talcott turned back and spat out his words.

The military government had collapsed and there was no reason left for him to protect Libertus’s mistake.

His hollow face showed no interest in anything anymore. He urged the guards to take him quickly and then went down the slope by himself without looking back.

All eyes in the hall, beginning with the High Priest, now turned to Libertus.

Libertus, who was plain and unremarkable, could not handle the weight of so many stares upon him.

His thin and weak face twisted and he shrank even more, curling his kneeling body as if to hide.

"Will you give us an explanation, Libertus?" the High Priest pressed.

Under the harsh questioning, Libertus shrank even further.

Was this truly the figure of a general who commanded one side of the army?

Roaille could only watch in shock at the pitiful sight.

"I-It wasn’t me! It was Roaille over there! Y-Yes, Roaille did it on his own! I was against it! I-I opposed it...!"

So now he pushed all the blame onto his own deputy.

Was this the man Roaille had served his entire life?

Although, Libertus is the heir of one of the three great military noble families of Dalmasca.

In truth, he was nothing more than a timid and cowardly man.

If only he had not been born into the Ostium family, perhaps he could have lived a small ordinary life filled with modest happiness.

Roaille had been a discarded child.

When he was still young and could not control his own power, his magic was too strong and burst out uncontrollably, causing damage around him.

His parents, unable to handle it, abandoned him to the church.

The troubled church, in turn, begged the local lord to take him.

In Dalmasca, where military power and force were valued above all, the status of magicians was low.

There were no schools to teach magic, no central organizations to guide them.

For the wealthy or noble families, private magicians were hired to teach children how to control their power.

For ordinary families, children with magic were left in the care of the church.

For the poor, most children with magic were simply abandoned or ignored.

In the neighboring country of Rosaria, there was said to be a proper organization called the Central Magic Association, which oversaw all magicians.

But in Dalmasca, where the status of magicians was low, things were very different.

Instruction was given individually, master to apprentice.

Once a magician grew skilled enough to stand on his own, he either ended up in the service of a noble—something close to being caged—or else entered the church.

If not, he had no choice but to scrape out a living on the streets, doing small odd jobs with his craft.

Roaille, by fortune or misfortune, was taken in by the ruling house of Ostium, a marquis family.

There, he was made apprentice to their court magician.

He was five years old.

The lord himself called for him, beckoning the thin boy to come closer. Beside him stood a child dressed in fine noble clothes.

The boy had freckles on his timid face and peered out nervously from half-hidden behind the lord’s back.

"This is my eldest son, Libertus. You will serve him. You will be his strength."

At that time, Libertus was ten years old.

Roaille believed even then that the marquis understood well the true nature of his heir.

Although Libertus was the son and heir of one of the three great military noble families of Dalmasca—and not only that, of the most powerful, the Marquis house—his personality was in no way suited to be either a soldier or a great noble.

He was a frail, ordinary man, plagued by chronic stomach weakness.

In the streets, he would have blended into the crowd, overlooked, just another kind-hearted soul lost among many.

He was timid, often crying.

Almost every day he could be found in tears, whether hidden in the corner of the garden or curled under the blankets of his bed.

The demands placed upon the heir were far too great for his weak nature.

The expectations of him were impossibly high, impossibly difficult, and unbearably harsh.

That was why Roaille always stepped in whenever he could.

He helped wherever it was possible for him to do so.

He acted in Libertus’s shadow, assisting in countless ways—whether it was study, sword training, social duties, or even play.

It was not a matter of cheating or unfairness anymore. It was survival. Libertus needed Roaille’s help just to live as himself.

And because of that constant support, Libertus somehow managed to stand, however awkwardly, in the world of nobles.

In time, he even rose to hold the title of Marquis of Ostium.

Twenty years ago, when the monarchy was overthrown and the military government was established, Libertus was dragged into power simply because he was one of the commanders of the army.

He had no choice.

He ended up being forced to carry out part of General Talcott’s authority.

But he was nothing more than a figurehead.

Both General Talcott and General Weskham mocked him, ignored him, and used him however they wished.

Roaille had known well that Libertus, under such treatment, quietly nursed feelings of bitterness and humiliation.

—And that was why.

When the ancient magic circle was found, Roaille thought it might be their chance.

It could raise Libertus’s real position and at the same time create an opportunity to restore respect for the power of magicians, which had been Libertus’s long-held dream.

Roaille’s own master had been a specialist in magic circles, a magician whose craft was the weaving and unfolding of them.

Naturally, Roaille had followed in the same path.

He had added his own ideas and techniques, too. When it came to magic circles, he carried a certain pride. He believed himself capable.

But in the end, it had been a complete failure.