CH 34

“Young Master! Where in the world are you……?! Go and check over there!”

“Young Master Othello! Where are you?!”

The mansion was in an uproar in the middle of the night.

Jin came out of his room with a furrowed brow and asked the head maid, “Has Othello disappeared again?”

“Yes, he’s been quiet for three days now…….,” the head maid replied with a worried look.

Jin and Othello were seven years old

It had been a month since Winchester’s ability, “Black Flame,” had manifested in Othello.

The timing of the manifestation varied from child to child, and Jin had already manifested his ability at the age of four.

The problem was that the process of manifesting these powers could be very taxing on the body and mind.

While Jin had a low-grade fever for about three days, Othello’s reaction was more intense.

He began to sleepwalk around the mansion in a severe delirium. He wasn’t just wandering around, he was destroying things with his black flame.

A week earlier, one of the farms had been razed to the ground, and four days earlier, six soldiers standing guard had been seriously wounded.

“Young Master Othello…….”

Someone interrupted the conversation between Jin and the Head Maid.

~ Translations by Lurelia | Editing by Valpal | Read only at moonlightnovels.com ~

The young woman with red hair and blue eyes was named Trisha Quenne. Six months pregnant, her belly was bulging and she was carrying a baby girl, a half-sibling to her twin brothers.

She was called “Madam” by the maids, even though she had not had a formal wedding.

“…….Did he disappear?” Trisha asked, but Jin didn’t answer.

The head maid bowed and opened her mouth.

“Yes, Madam. A servant discovered that the window was broken. There was no one in the room.”

There was a moment of silence. Jin turned and walked down the hallway with an expressionless face.

Trisha watched Jin’s back for a moment.

“It seems like Young Master Jin is planning to go out and look for him as well.”

The head maid’s words were heard.

Trisha thought for a moment and then looked out the dark window.

*** 

‘I wish you were dead, Othello.’

‘How can you be so different from the heir, Jin? You were born on the same day, and yet you’re so different.’

‘That’s why I left early. Think about it, do you have any memories of being loved?’

During the day, it was a clear pond, but at night even the moon was hidden behind clouds, making it dark to the point of not being able to see the end.

Othello’s bare feet, covered in scars, gradually disappeared into the depths of the pond. Othello’s blue-green eyes were black and empty.

– Do you know why you’re tormenting that woman, Othello? If she gives birth to a child…

– You will be abandoned. That’s the fate of incompetent second-borns.

– Who knows, maybe even the third-born will be better than you.

The rippling water rose up Othello’s chest. A meaningless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

The hem of his deceased mother’s dress was swaying in the center of the pond.

Although her face was not visible, her solitary figure shining in the darkness seemed to promise warmth. An eerie voice continued to echo in Othello’s ears.

– Everyone hates you, even the maids and soldiers. You’re a troublemaker with a dirty personality. You know everyone whispers when you pass by.

– You bring shame to Winchester. You’re nothing compared to your brothers…

– Wouldn’t it be better to die with me?

The black water rose up to Othello’s neck. He felt like he could reach the hem of the dress if he took another step.

Just as Othello was about to take one more step forward.

“No.”

Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.

“No!”

A soft, cold feeling enveloped Othello as he was pulled out of the water.

“You’re a wonderful, strong child and…….,” a woman’s desperate voice rang in his ears.

Othello’s focus returned to his empty eyes.

“You are precious.”

He looked up and saw Trisha holding him tightly.

Trisha Quenne, a  woman who had been brought into the house by his father a few months ago. The one who was now the most annoying thing in the house.

She was hugging him tightly.

Only then did he realize that he was in a pond.

Trisha, who had entered the cold pond with her pregnant body, seemed to have no intention of letting go of Othello.

“I’m…….”

“That’s why you shouldn’t say things like that.”

It was only then that Ohello realized that the words he had been hearing in his ears as his mother’s voice were actually being spoken by himself all along.

The woman and the dress that had seemed like a vision before his eyes…… were all illusions.

A cruel trial created by the black flame.

He heard Trisha’s voice again.

“Quennes hear voices in their dreams, and I heard that of Madam Winchester.”

At those words, Othelo looked at Trisha in a daze.

Madam Winchester.

Then he turned to her with a fierce glare.

“Don’t lie to me! You’re lying to get my mother’s place!”

“The Star of Rockland.”

But the words came right back. Othelo’s pupils shook at the mention of it. His wild and unruly black flame was unsteady with emotion.

“Do you remember the music box?”

The Star of Rockland was a song Othelo’s mother had composed for him and placed in a music box.

He hadn’t played it since her death.

Othelo may have attacked her after hearing that, but there was a strong conviction in Trisha’s eyes. Even though Othello had been acting rude and unruly up until now.

“You can keep hating me, you can call me a greedy woman who covets Madam Winchester’s place, but…….,” Trisha’s lips rose gently, “…don’t have any more bad dreams from now on.”

After staring at her, Othello finally lowered his gaze. The surface of the black pond rose and fell with a drip, drip, drip.

*** 

Othello swung his sword toward the rising sun. There was no hint of hesitation in his eyes.

Ever since the day he entered the Black Pond, he played the music box before sleeping.

There were no more bad dreams, no more nighttime roaming, and the black flame had settled into his body.

Trisha had died, and time passed quickly.

He still had the body of a young boy, but his body was hard from years of training.

If Trisha were alive, his height would have reached the tip of her chin.

As he took a breath and turned around, Jin’s voice was heard after he turned around once and half.

“I won’t be a match for you with just swordsmanship.”

As Othello turned his head, Jin, who was sitting and staring at him, appeared.

Othello twisted his lips and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“You’re unlucky, Jin.”

Jin chuckled at Othello’s response.

The balance of power was determined from birth.

The bloodline chosen as the successor from the Black Dragon has an incomparable strength that others cannot reach.

However, it was not impossible for Othello to overcome the supremacy forever if he reached the level of ‘Sword Aura’ by imbuing his sword with black flame – then Jin would not be able to ignore him.

Of all the Winchesters in history, there were only four who could use Sword Aura.

~ Translations by Lurelia | Editing by Valpal | Read only at moonlightnovels.com ~

“What are you doing here at dawn?”

“The results of the investigation into the incident at the hunting grounds have come out.”

Two days ago, there had been an accident on the hunting grounds of the summer residence, in the Pashurit Mountains.

A landslide had collapsed the lodge and nearly killed Sasha. Othello had brought Sasha, who had fallen dozens of meters below, up on his horse back.

“Lack of evidence, no suspicion, punishment impossible,” Jin said to Othello, whose eyes quickly turned cold. At those words, a fierce energy rose in Othello’s eyes.

“I have to go to Father.”

Othello tossed the sword he had been holding onto the floor. A black viper that delighted in his anger slithered up Othello’s body.

Turning back to Othello, Jin said, “There’s a reason why we can’t punish Zestia.”

“I don’t care what that reason is.”

“Othello.”

The sound of Jin’s low voice calling his name stopped Othello in his tracks. He could feel the black flame emanating from him.

“There’s no need to punish her anymore.”

Jin’s voice drifted into his ears.

The darkness in Othello’s eyes writhed fiercely, and only then did his lips open, understanding the meaning.

“She’s dead.”