My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 42

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“What is the price, then?”
“Well, things worked out nicely thanks to you. The Nightwatch has agreed to lend you their strength once.”
This was unexpected. An organization of the Nightwatch’s caliber would help us? It was compensation worth approximately one billion Batz.
What should I ask for? I fell into thought for a moment. Wouldn’t the Nightwatch also have information about those attackers from fifteen years ago?
But even if they did, it was classified intelligence that even nobles could barely access. They wouldn’t share something like that with a stranger met by chance.
“Then, would it be acceptable to ask you to find someone? I’ve been searching for children who disappeared fifteen years ago.”
The Nightwatch’s information network was formidable. In some respects, it might even surpass Diar’s.
“Your eyes lit up just now—finally showing some enthusiasm. Who are you looking for?”
I gave Matteo a brief explanation about my disciples. At my words, he folded his arms across his chest and fell into contemplation. A moment later, his eyes opened.
“Well, I’ll give it a try. But don’t get your hopes too high. It’ll take some time.”
“That will be sufficient. Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Hey, hey. Why are you in such a rush? Do you dislike talking with me? I have more to say.”
What else could there be to discuss? As I stopped, Matteo met my gaze and smiled gently.
“Have you ever thought about joining the Nightwatch? I think we’d get along well.”
Being asked so directly was rather startling. The memory of accommodating Matteo back in the prison came to mind. He’d taken a liking to me ever since then.
“Well. We got along well because of that noble murder incident, but in reality it was all false, wasn’t it? Isn’t that right?”
Matteo didn’t answer. He simply smiled with a gentle expression. Somehow, a glint of madness still seemed to linger in his eyes.
“Matteo? You didn’t actually kill that noble, did you?”
“I’ll contact you as soon as I find a lead! See you!”
The moment he finished speaking, Matteo vanished swiftly. Did that man actually commit murders of nobles, regardless of his hatred for them?
Aside from his character, he was certainly a valuable connection. With my mind somewhat lighter, I headed toward the inn. Now to return to Aspenheim…
―Bang!
A loud crash echoed from the direction of the inn. Despite the distance, it was a considerable sound. An ominous premonition crept over me with a chill.
I rushed over and found crowds of onlookers gathering. The clamor came from an open area behind the inn.
“Damn it! Just because you’re my brother doesn’t give you the right!”
I pushed through the crowd toward the open ground. And in that moment, I could see what had caused the crash.
Ice jutting up from the ground in various places, trees torn to shreds, blood smattered across the earth. Two figures glaring at each other as if ready to kill.
Cesare and Arkel were locked in a brawl.
What in the world was happening? The atmosphere seemed fine until this morning.
Cesare’s face was twisted with rage. Arkel’s gaze, too, was as cold as if he were regarding a stranger.
“This wasn’t why I went to prison.”
“That prison! I’ve been trapped in a world without family for fifteen years!”
Both their bodies were bleeding from multiple wounds. This was far too severe to call a simple quarrel between brothers.
Then Cesare lunged forward at Arkel. Just as Arkel gripped the Ice Dagger in his hand to counterattack—
―Clang!
My blade struck the Ice Dagger aside, and my scabbard blocked Cesare’s fist. A sharp, frigid aura scattered into the air.
As I stepped between the two of them, my disciples’ faces filled with alarm. I glared at Cesare, whose breathing came in ragged gasps.
“What is the meaning of this?”
I’d tried not to interfere under normal circumstances, but the situation had become critical. They were genuinely trying to hurt each other.
Cesare stepped back slightly but didn’t answer my question. This time I turned my glare on Arkel.
“Answer me.”
Arkel too kept his mouth firmly shut. Both of them were acting like foolish ten-year-old boys. More immature than even Jenia, the youngest.
Just then, Jenia, who had been standing nearby, approached. She appeared unharmed by the brawl, her manner calm and collected.
“Jenia. Do you know why these two were fighting?”
“Yes. After you left, they started talking. Roughly, it went like this…”
Jenia glanced briefly at the two of them and cleared her throat.
“Arkel, I know I’m lacking. So just give me a little more time.”
Was that Cesare’s voice? The voice belonged to Jenia, but she’d captured the tone remarkably well.
“Do as you wish. The master considers all of that part of who you are.”
Was that Arkel? This too was eerily similar. Jenia continued her mimicry.
“Does the master’s thoughts become your thoughts too? If the master told us to die, would you die as well?”
“The master would never say such a thing. Stop asking pointless questions.”
“Answer me. Honestly.”
Jenia paused for a moment before continuing in a voice far colder than before.
“Yes. We would. Because the master holds you all dear, and so do I.”
After speaking thus far, Jenia returned to her normal voice.
“And then a verbal argument broke out, which turned into a physical fight… and that’s how it happened.”
I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. For a moment, my mind went blank. I didn’t even know what to say.
Arkel went to prison for his younger siblings. No—he went to prison for me.
His crime was Dain Balanus. Because of me, he nearly spent a lifetime as a prisoner.
The fact that he felt no affection for his siblings was also difficult to accept. Though Arkel was the type who couldn’t form attachments to people….
We were family. We spent years together—a few short, or as many as ten. Did that time mean nothing to Arkel?
Had I misunderstood Arkel all this while? Or had I led the boy astray?
“Regardless of the reason—do you truly think it makes sense for family to spill blood like that?”
……
“Get treatment first. We’ll discuss the rest when we’re home.”
I said no more and turned my attention to Jenia. She nodded and took both their hands.
“Come on, both of you. I’ll treat your wounds. Hurry now.”
Jenia dragged the two of them away. Cesare turned back toward me several times, his expression anxious, while Arkel kept his gaze fixed ahead.
Left alone, I surveyed the clearing.
Frozen patches, crushed earth, scorched marks. The ground was pocked with impact craters. I stared at the blooddrops scattered across the soil for a long time.
After some time had passed, I returned to the room. My disciples seemed to have finished their treatment without incident.
“You’ve worked hard, Jenia.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Children grow through fighting, don’t they?”
Listening to Jenia speak like a caretaker, I realized how much she’d matured. The problem was the boys.
Cesare was still uneasy, unsure what to do with himself. He opened his mouth to tell me something, then closed it again, watching my expression carefully.
Arkel simply stared at the floor with empty eyes. The two of them didn’t seem to have made peace with each other.
I wished the journey home would be smooth.
* * *
As we descended from the Northern Region toward Aspenheim, the air around us gradually grew warmer.
The bitter wind ceased its assault, and breathing no longer stung the lungs. Spring seemed to be arriving slowly.
Yet my disciples’ atmosphere remained cold.
“Are the brothers taking a vow of silence?”
Jenia grumbled as we entered Aspenheim. The two men on either side of her remained wordless.
“He corrects me even when I yawn. What does he expect me to do?”
“At least cover your mouth when you do it.”
“Tell him to stop being such a stuck-up pedant.”
At least they were lowering their voices to mutter at each other. They were making an effort not to let me hear, for what it was worth.
Then our house came into view in the distance. As I opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent washed over me.
In the meantime, Arkel stood rooted to the spot, looking around. His hand kept touching his arm.
“I’ll show you to your room. Follow me.”
“Yes, Master.”
I led Arkel up to the second floor. Opening the door and stepping inside, I saw a room prepared with meticulous care.
There was a bed, a wardrobe, and other basic furnishings, with warm orange curtains hanging at the window.
Arkel remained at the threshold, unable to step inside. Whether he was wary or simply unfamiliar with it, I noticed his hand kept scratching at his arm.
“Did you injure your arm earlier?”
“No. As the air grows warmer, my skin begins to itch…….”
When skin thaws after freezing, people often experience pain or itching.
Arkel, who had lived for fifteen years in constant cold—did even this lukewarm air feel hot to him?
I stepped further into the room. The bedding was also fresh and pristine. Yellow—a color that matched the curtains well.
“It will be far better than an inn mattress.”
“Did you prepare this, Master?”
“No. Cesare and Jenia prepared it.”
Arkel said nothing for a long while. He stared at the bed as though seeing something for the first time, then sat down on it.
As the mattress gave way softly beneath him, he flinched and caught himself with one arm against the floor, as if he hadn’t expected it to yield.
He remained stiffly in place for a moment, then moved his body. His hands—cracked and scarred from the cold—gently touched the blanket. Arkel murmured softly.
“……Is a bed this soft?”
In the Frost Prison, the bed was nothing but a hard wooden board with a single blanket spread over it. Had that become normal for Arkel?
There was much I wanted to say to this disciple. I wanted to scold him, and yet I also wanted to comfort him.
“Is there something you wished to do since returning?”
I wanted to let him do things he hadn’t been able to do for fifteen years, even now. Arkel thought for a moment, then spoke.
“I would like to visit the river nearby. I left something buried there.”
“We’ll go tomorrow. Rest now. And…….”
I looked at my disciple sitting quietly on the bed.
“Think more carefully about your fight with Cesare today—by your own standards.”
“……Yes, Master.”
Right now, nothing I said would change Arkel’s heart. Words and actions might bend, but conviction would not.
I left Arkel’s room. I could see him lie down silently on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above him.
I moved toward the room next door. I was about to knock when I heard Cesare’s voice coming quietly from within.
“Aren’t you even angry? You said it was beneath you.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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