Beast Castle

“Episode 29”

The torrential rain couldn’t wash away the mansion completely. It was Delara’s fate to remain there until her dying breath. She was more suited to the shadows than the sunlight, more fitting for dawn than noon. The mansion, where souls cursed and bound to their past lives gathered, lay far away from the bustling world. The pure and enlightened energy of the deceased was long abandoned.

Yet, there was a strange woman living there. According to Delara, she hadn’t succumbed to the curse and maintained a clear aura without a trace of corruption. It was unfathomable in a mansion like that. Moreover, the woman had confessed her love for Delara’s master. It was a fresh and audacious statement among the stories Delara heard while visiting the mansion.

It seemed like a new game for Clodan. Occasionally, he played pranks on visitors to the mansion or cursed them, and those who were arrogant often met unfortunate ends. Delara didn’t like it. The more malicious Clodan’s curses were, the more it seemed they led to an inevitable, uncontrollable outcome.

So, when she first met the woman, Delara was afraid. Perhaps the woman would uncover the secret, but at least she could escape before becoming a victim of the curse. However, even that attempt was foiled by the sharp Clodan, and Delara had to endure days of suffering in silence. Now, the memories of Clodan’s mischievous seven-year-old self were fading.

“Master.”

But the mansion had changed. Except for the corpse-like face of Mrs. Mary, which was unsettling, and the pitiful countenance of Philip, who used to spread despair but now seemed forgiving, everything else seemed different. Just by looking at the curtains that used to hide the windows being wide open, one could tell.

Something had changed. The mansion now evoked nostalgia for the days when the former master was alive. There was a familiar scent in the air. The recent blonde lady passing by earlier might have been the reason. Whether it should be interpreted positively or as an impending disaster remained to be seen.

Delara observed the master from afar. Normally, she wouldn’t bother the master with a novice’s confession. But even she seemed worn down by time. She leaned against the bookshelf with a thoughtful look in her eyes, reminiscing.

“Master.”

It was the second call. It was clear that Clodan had heard but chose to ignore her. It was a bad habit only Delara knew, cultivated since infancy. He had always been picky, even in his crawling days; he wouldn’t suckle unless the milk was to his liking. The lady who saw the baby remarked on his peculiar temperament, worrying, and the master said that such temperament was necessary to be a lord.

Delara thought neither was true. The young master was closer to indifferent than picky, and he was better off becoming a scholar than a ruler.

“It seems your younger sibling has returned recently.”

When the woman finally spoke, Clodan turned to look at her. It seemed ignoring her was indeed the right choice. Delara calmly presented her prepared solution.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate to interfere.”

“Don’t beat around the bush. Be precise.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then why say it?”

“Her feelings. You can’t deny it wasn’t intentional.”

Clodan’s anger filled the room. His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes remained sharp, making it hard to let one’s guard down.

“You know it wasn’t intentional.”

“Just let her go. You have to handle it yourself, Master.”

When the young master was angry, he would throw a tantrum and seek revenge until he felt satisfied. But the current scene was different. Delara sensed that he was contemplating something slowly, as if thinking about something. Whether it was a good or bad sign, she left it to the indifferent gods.

“I didn’t intend for her to love me.”

I mistook the fierce sound of the wind for darkness enveloping my ears. Clodan, with his hair fluttering in the wind, nervously bit his finger. It was a habit he didn’t have before. Delara’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Tami is coming.”

The mansion may have changed, but Delara suspected the master remained the same. However, the master who had always held himself with dignity had lost his usual composure. It was a strange sun that had set on the mansion, untouched by a single hole. Whether it would cast shadows and wither or if evil was finally receding remained uncertain. What was certain was that the person had changed from before. There was just one concern.

He said Tami is coming. Like when he was ten years old. The master was ignorant about parenting, and practically impossible to discipline Clodan. Perhaps that’s why the young master was notably unruly.

He also had only a handful of peers. Some were drawn to the house’s wealth and elegance, but the young master used them only as pawns or to make jests. Building genuine friendships through shared daily life was difficult for him.

Yet, there was one child who followed the young master fervently. His name was like cheese. One day, while fervently chasing after the young master’s backside, he accidentally broke the arm of a wooden doll. It was something the late mother had bought before her passing, one of the few items the young master cherished. He wasn’t of an age to control his impulses. The young master, who had just turned ten, picked up the wooden doll and struck the boy’s eye with it, causing near blindness.

Although the stern head of the household scolded him, he didn’t punish the young master. Instead, he judged that restrictions should be imposed on him. He believed that by showing interest and restricting the use of privileges, he could gain control.

So, the head of the household put forward what the young master cherished. Earrings that could be considered a memento of the mistress, a fairy tale book hand-drawn with care, and a wreath gifted by the previous lord were among them.

However, the young master veered unexpectedly in a direction no one had anticipated. We thought he would listen obediently, but instead, his attachment to things grew stronger, to the point of hiding them away.

Discovering the young master’s hiding place by chance felt like a defeat. The head of the household, who had never dealt with children, failed in his disciplinary methods, and the young master retreated into a deeper burrow. It was the same when he developed preferences later on. He buried them away, much like hoarding provisions, without boasting.

From the day he lost his ear, there was nothing lacking in his growth. Perhaps the head of the household’s discipline had made him into a stubborn outsider. But it was only in regards to material possessions. He feared what might happen if he started coveting people. He wanted to protect Clodan from that as much as possible.

“Master, I haven’t received any curses.”

The young master didn’t seem to appreciate sweet words. The result of keeping silent was this. Delara didn’t hesitate to speak her mind from the moment the mansion was cursed. Even if it led to a shortcut to death, she didn’t care.

“But I’ve been connected to this mansion and survived until now.”

Delara drove the final nail before leaving.

“Do you intend to make that girl like me?”

She didn’t want to leave a scar that would be remembered by Clodan forever. Unbelievably, she wished for his smile more than her own life. If that were the case, it was best to exclude the woman he was interested in. If they were to go down the path of destruction together, it would be this side that would shatter.

“I’ll visit the southern region you mentioned last time. There might be something there.”

It was a futile attempt, knowing there was no hope. The young master didn’t reply. Delara hoped he would accept it correctly this time. Wrapping her cape around her, she left the study with heavy steps.

The weather had grown colder since she arrived. She remembered the excited expression of the master she had seen earlier. It was like the face he had when he eagerly unwrapped presents on his birthday when his parents were still alive. Could she really let go of the person who brought such joy?

No matter how tightly she wrapped her clothes, the rushing cold wind felt like the young master’s relentless determination. Delara’s footsteps, as she left, sounded even heavier than before.