The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 153
Seeing his handsome face twisted in pain brought a sense of base delight.
It felt as though a dark soot had smeared his heart.
He had only managed to retain his humanity thanks to Amber; now he was reverting to the son of a monster butcher, a despicable mercenary.
It was only because she existed that he could be human at all.
Now, he was once again just a butcher’s son.
There was no reason for kindness, no reason for warmth, no reason to endure.
She was gone.
“Where has Amber gone?”
“I don’t… know.”
“Why did Amber leave?”
“I do not know.”
He hadn’t expected any meaningful answers.
But seeing him stubbornly refuse to speak made Igmeyer want to throw him into the river.
Amber had wasted no time taking care of her friend, and while he didn’t want to kill him… honestly, he felt a strong urge to do just that.
“It can’t be, can it, Doctor?”
Nicholas’s evasion prompted other knights to step in.
This could potentially lead to a massive scandal. They absolutely needed a proper answer.
Yet Nicholas stubbornly shook his head.
“Do you think he will open his mouth only after his hands are trampled?”
Igmeyer, who had been mulling over the note’s contents, spoke softly.
“You won’t be able to treat patients ever again.”
He had called Nicholas here thinking Amber would be pleased.
He shouldn’t leave the castle empty for hunting.
No, he shouldn’t trust anyone… not even love.
The entire world felt like hell.
With every moment, his heart felt like it was shattering into pieces.
Despite his threats to ruin Nicholas’s life, Nicholas showed no reaction at all.
Whether it was loyalty, friendship, or perhaps love, he couldn’t tell, but it was clear it irritated him.
“I can guess a few reasons why Amber wanted to eliminate Nidhogg…”
“Please don’t. She didn’t want you to know.”
Nicholas spoke only in response to Igmeyer’s lazy remark.
He had kept his mouth shut like a dead clam when his own safety was threatened, yet he immediately blocked any attempt to guess Amber’s intentions, which felt utterly ridiculous.
It was so ridiculous that Igmeyer wanted nothing more than to break this guy’s neck right then and there.
‘…No, I must endure.’
Why?
With a dazed mind, he questioned himself.
Why shouldn’t he tear that handsome face apart? Why not display the head without skin on a spear?
‘Amber. Yes, she would hate that. If she returned and saw that sight, she would distance herself from me.’
Igmeyer had never once revealed his vulgarity or savagery since their marriage.
Amber was far too noble to witness such a sight.
He didn’t want to shock his wife or be looked down upon.
After all, he already felt out of place.
Suppressing the boiling murderous intent, Igmeyer turned his gaze back to Raphael, who remained motionless.
He couldn’t bear to look at Nicholas any longer.
“As a descendant of a witch, do you have any spells you could use in this situation?”
He asked quietly, and Raphael, with his head bowed to the ground, quickly replied.
He had already considered a way to make up for his mistake.
“As the last descendant of a witch, there aren’t many options available to a man, but I’ll borrow the eyes of the crows.”
Long ago, there had been two witches in this land, though it was unclear where they had originated.
Militta and Erika.
Unfortunately, Militta caught the eye of the Emperor and ended up living a life akin to imprisonment, leaving no descendants behind.
But Erika was different.
With a fiery personality that contrasted sharply with the gentle Militta, Erika had fallen deeply in love and bore several children.
Witch bloodlines could use spells unconditionally, but girls were far more powerful than boys. The range of spells they could wield was immeasurably broader.
In any case, the witches descended from Erika also had children, but the steadily increasing number began to dwindle when boys started to be born exclusively.
Raphael was the last surviving son from the bloodline of Erika, Militta’s sister.
‘Though I can’t fathom why, my powers still don’t work.’
His fist clenched so tightly that it turned white, and he belatedly noticed that his body was trembling slightly.
In the meantime, Raphael stood up and without hesitation, cut his forearm with a knife.
As blood splattered down, the watching knights looked horrified.
No matter the circumstances, it wasn’t easy to sever a vein like that.
Yet Raphael did so without a change in expression or a moment’s hesitation.
“…….”
Finally, taking a deep breath, Raphael stared into the void and began to murmur something.
The words he uttered were in a language unknown to anyone present, and there was something chilling about it.
“Hey, look!”
At that moment, someone shouted from the sidelines, causing everyone to lift their heads toward the overcast sky.
“A flock of crows?”
“They’re coming this way!”
