Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 111: Strange Memories

With one whistle from Salaar, the ancient puppet leapt out, rotating its body blocks to sweep aside the bubbles that fell thick as rain for Myss. Myss used everything he had, nimbly slipping through the gaps and approaching Kendrick as if dancing.

Kendrick was drawing closer to them, and the distance between the two wasn’t great. Seeing Myss pounce out from the foam, that strange humanoid lashed backhandedly. The pale-blue magic blade split open Myss’s palm and arm.

Usually, when a person was injured, they would instinctively pull back. But Myss seemed to have no sense of pain. He lunged toward Kendrick in one motion, several strands of brilliant golden thread hidden in his palm. That was the magic he could only control by exhausting all his strength.

This bloodied grab fiercely clamped around Kendrick’s throat.

The tendons in his hand were injured, and Myss couldn’t close his five fingers. In the next second, Kendrick would break free from this meaningless attack.

…But this one instant was enough.

Myss merged that final bit of golden magic into Kendrick’s body and touched his memories.

Drip, drip.

The young Kendrick lowered his hand, and blood dripped from the fork in his grip. The bloodstains seeped into the thick velvet carpet. A kind-looking middle-aged woman lay collapsed on the floor, covering her arm that kept gushing blood.

“Ken!” A figure rushed in.

It was a boy with delicate, gentle features. Judging from his appearance, that should be Peyton in his youth. Young Peyton’s eyes were both intact, and his face was full of anxiety.

“Young Master Peyton,” the middle-aged woman called out through the pain.

“You go out first, Madam Memi.” Peyton’s gaze swept around, and he roughly understood the situation. “After you treat your wound, remember to go to the butler to collect compensation.”

“Peyton.” Kendrick opened his arms expressionlessly, one hand still holding the bloody fork.

Peyton sighed softly and quickly walked in front of Kendrick, but he didn’t embrace him.

“What happened?”

“I wanted Magnolia’s doll, and Memi said I couldn’t have it.” Kendrick’s tone was unusually calm. “But I wanted that doll. I planned to go get it myself, and Memi wouldn’t let me pass.”

“That is Magnolia’s miniature specimen for class, not a toy.”

“I want it,” Kendrick repeated. “If Memi stops me again next time, I’ll kill her.”

Peyton half crouched down and looked at the indifferent child in front of him. “No, Ken. Killing is wrong.”

“Why?”

“If you kill Memi, her parents, husband, and children will all be very sad.”

“What is ‘sad’?” Kendrick asked. “And I don’t know her parents, husband, or children. Why should I care about them?”

Peyton gave a bitter smile. Paired with that expression, he didn’t look very much like a child. “‘Sad’ means that you will never be able to see your older brother again.”

Kendrick pondered for a long time. He carefully stuffed the bloody fork beneath the tablecloth, then placed his blood-covered hands behind his back, as if this could hide everything that had just happened.

“Or I could kill Magnolia. Then Memi would have no reason to refuse me, and I wouldn’t hurt Memi.” He offered this suggestion almost sincerely.

Peyton only looked at him sadly. After a long while, he touched his head.

“Magnolia is even more impossible, Ken,” he said. “Promise your brother, all right? Don’t casually hurt or kill people. If you truly cannot suppress that impulse, Brother will find you some criminals who deserve to die.”

Kendrick thought for a moment, then stretched out both hands and somewhat clumsily tugged at the corners of his mouth. “All right. I promise you, Brother.”

Peyton leaned forward and gently kissed Kendrick’s forehead. “May god bless you, my dear little brother.”

After a few words of comfort, the butler’s call came from outside. Peyton left the room and carefully shut the door. Almost in the next second, Kendrick flew from the stool to the door, pressing his ear tightly against the panel.

A muffled conversation came from the other side of the door.

“Young Master Kendrick is extremely dangerous, Young Master Peyton. As a child of Divine Blood, his symptoms are unmistakable. He doesn’t have a normal human heart. Perhaps you should consider sending him away…”

“No. If even I give up on Kendrick, sooner or later he will kill the innocent.”

Peyton said, “As that child’s closest family, I have the responsibility to watch over him, teach him, and keep him from hurting others.”

“But your talent… Haa…”

“By the God of Cadence, I won’t abandon my only little brother for the sake of my own future.”

There was no wavering in Peyton’s tone. “When he grows a little older, I’ll take him to the Church of Cadence for ascetic practice. If… if necessary, I’ll take him to hunt those heinous wanted criminals, so that the bloodshed will have some meaning.”

“All right, if you insist.” The butler couldn’t help sighing a few more times.

The young Kendrick pressed his cheek against the hard door panel and said nothing.

Not long after, Kendrick participated in the Magibase Summoning ceremony.

Peyton carefully selected the materials for his summoning, but just as everyone knew, Kendrick failed to summon anything.

Facing the empty magic circle, the whispers below the stage were like ocean waves. Fragmented words emerged from behind noblewomen’s fans and inside gentlemen’s beards, more annoying than hard wood chips in bread.

“That violent younger son of the Karns family…”

“I heard that child’s mind is quite abnormal…”

“Perhaps it’s not a matter of talent, but that he lacks a complete human heart…”

Peyton picked up his younger brother and strode away from the scene.

“I want magic,” Kendrick said while hugging Peyton’s neck. “Before you had a Magibase, you could still use magic. Teach me.”

“Ken, we are different.” Peyton lightly patted his back. “Everyone is different.”

“I want magic,” Kendrick emphasized unhappily. “Magic has no owner. Then I’ll go take it myself.”

“Everyone has magic. I’m the only one who doesn’t. My magic must have been stolen by someone. I’ll take my magic back.”

“All right,” Peyton said. “Brother will find research books related to Magibase for you. If there is anything you don’t understand, Brother will learn with you.”

“All right, Brother.”

“Ken, when you have magic, what do you want to do?”

“Bounty hunter.”

Kendrick thought about it seriously and replied solemnly, “I want to live in the monastery with Brother and hunt those people who are allowed to be killed.”

“Good boy.” Peyton’s steps paused, and a little laughter entered his voice.

Myss found it somewhat strange.

He had deliberately turned the memories earlier to see how the real Peyton and Kendrick had gotten along. As a result, these two actually had a very good relationship. At least from the look of it, this pair of brothers who had lost their parents could be called dependent on each other.

Kendrick was indeed cold-blooded, but toward Peyton, he could be considered obedient.

When he discovered that he had no magical talent, he didn’t show the slightest jealousy toward Peyton. Nor did he, as Magnolia had said, blame Peyton for the problem with his own constitution.

…For two brothers like this, why exactly had they swapped bodies?

The following memories were still fairly ordinary.

Peyton took care of Kendrick every day and studied matters related to Magibases with him. Toward people other than Peyton, Kendrick was still completely impolite. However, he had indeed restrained himself somewhat when he acted, with only a few minor incidents that drew blood. Afterward, he was naturally lectured by Peyton for a long time.

Myss was actually quite familiar with Kendrick’s style of conduct.

This child of Divine Blood was a little like him. Kendrick wouldn’t regard the other humans as his own kind, much less take their lives as lives. Their anger, fear, and hatred were no more important to Kendrick Karns than steam from the spout of a teapot.

The reason he didn’t go kill people relied entirely on Peyton’s restraint.

Peyton gave up socializing in noble circles, and he was unwilling to follow a famous mage to study magic. He spent great sums to hire tutors and studied and attended lessons together with Kendrick.

In a room neither large nor small, Kendrick busied himself with his grand undertaking of summoning a Magibase. Peyton, meanwhile, recited prayers to the God of Cadence beside him, like the most devout monk.

Sunlight slanted through the high windows and fell across the two of them. The shadows beneath their feet moved so slowly, as if none of this would ever change in this life.

Until one day, Kendrick discovered the method of “living sacrifice.”

Kendrick knew that Peyton would never permit him to read such things. So he secretly hid the relevant records, just as he had hidden the fork that had wounded the nursemaid.

On a sunny afternoon, while Peyton was out handling errands, Kendrick killed a few sparrows and mice and tried using a blood magic circle to practice the ritual.

He mercilessly twisted apart those faintly warm bodies and squeezed out blood and organs, as if what he held weren’t small animals that could breathe, but paint tubes that still carried warmth.

Naturally, this crude summoning received no response.

Kendrick casually cleaned up those bloody corpses, preparing to throw them away while Peyton wasn’t there. He had just left the room when he ran into the maid’s young daughter.

That girl was only thirteen or fourteen, about the same age as Kendrick, and helped her mother do odd jobs in the manor. The little girl happened to be cleaning nearby and directly knocked the bundle from his hand. Those corpses, dead in wretched states, fell all over the floor.

How could the little girl ever have seen such a bloody scene? She fell onto the ground and immediately screamed.

Kendrick lowered his eyes and looked at her tearful eyes, taut lips, and wrinkled chin. Her neck was thin and trembled fiercely. He could snap it with one hand, just as he had snapped the mouse’s spine.

Yet even such a noisy, cowardly, irritating little girl had a Magibase that he didn’t.

This feeling made Kendrick extremely uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than when he couldn’t obtain Magnolia’s doll.

He wanted a Magibase, just as he wanted to kill people. He was more restless than a wild bird locked in a cage. He only wanted to make himself feel a little easier.

Using small animals for living sacrifice was ultimately not enough.

Kendrick reached his hand toward the girl whose legs had gone weak from fright.

She was short with a slight build. He could use her as a live sacrifice, cut up the corpse, and hide it in his chest of drawers… In any case, the potions in his room could make enough preservative solution. While Peyton wasn’t paying attention, he could mix the corpse in with the meat pieces used for research and throw it out little by little.

“Young Master Peyton!”

Seeing his gaze, the little girl trembled even harder. She desperately shook her head and instinctively called for Peyton, who lived here. “Young Master Peyton!”

As she shouted, she moved her weak legs, trying to stand.

This call made Kendrick feel guilty for no reason. The little girl had just stood when he shoved her back to the floor.

“Help, help! You monster!” she cursed through her tears.

“Young Master Peyton will abandon you sooner or later. He will have a new family… you lunatic… everyone hates you…”

Boom.

Kendrick’s pupils opened slightly, and his hand finally touched her throat. Despair and hatred surfaced on the girl’s face, but her cry was stuck in her throat.

Kendrick expressionlessly tightened his five fingers.

“Ken!” A roar froze Kendrick’s movements.

The documents and books in Peyton’s arms scattered all over the floor. He strode forward and seized Kendrick. Contrary to his usual manner, Peyton nearly fiercely pried open Kendrick’s fingers. His hand was covered in cold sweat, and his finger joints made a crisp sound like they had been sprained.

“What did you promise me?” Peyton’s face was terrifyingly white, and his voice was so hoarse it didn’t sound like him.

The corpse of a sparrow rolled by his foot. The poor little thing’s head looked as if it had been bitten off alive, its wings bent at a very uncomfortable angle.

Kendrick’s gaze swept over that tiny corpse, then returned to Peyton’s face.

He couldn’t sense that little girl’s hatred or terror, but he sensed the emotion called “disappointment” with incomparable clarity.

Kendrick: “Don’t casually hurt or kill people.”

“Then what were you doing just now?” Peyton used his eyes to signal the girl to leave, his voice lower. “Because I wasn’t present, my words no longer counted?”

Kendrick wanted to defend himself. He wanted to say, “because she was so noisy she gave me a headache,” but also felt that Peyton probably wouldn’t like that reason.

“I’m sorry, Brother.” In the end, he opened his mouth. “I failed to control myself. I won’t do this again.”

“I thought that, at the very least, you would keep your agreement with me.” Peyton’s tone gained several traces of exhaustion, and Kendrick didn’t like that exhaustion.

“Then we should make a more detailed agreement.” For some reason, his tone grew increasingly forceful.

“For example, only when you are by my side do I have the obligation to keep the agreement. If you abandon me, do I still have to obey your demands?”

Peyton was silent for a while.

“I understand,” he said softly. “As long as you keep the agreement, I will provide a guarantee you can believe in.”

Although no blood had been spilled and no magic was gained, in that moment, Kendrick’s mood inexplicably improved somewhat.

He threw away those corpses that had begun to rot and washed away the remaining bloodstains from the gaps of his fingernails. Peyton sat back in his usual position, the position Kendrick could see with one glance and prayed to the so-called God of Cadence.

Curses were useless, and prayers were useless too, Kendrick thought happily. Only a concrete contract could convince him.

In the shadows, Kendrick secretly took out the materials related to living sacrifice and read them over and over.

He had to memorize these theories first. If Peyton vanished one day, perhaps he could use them. Of course, assuming… assuming Peyton didn’t leave him, he was willing to suppress his instincts a little. This was an acceptable price.

Myss found it stranger and stranger the more he watched.

No matter how he looked at it, these two didn’t seem like they were about to turn against each other.

The truth was exactly the opposite. They seemed to have reached some kind of subtle balance.

If the two of them continued getting along like this, Kendrick wouldn’t even try living sacrifice again, much less suddenly attack and blind his older brother’s eye.

Moreover, Kendrick and Peyton had clearly lived together for so long, yet Salaar had never mentioned it.

Salaar wouldn’t deliberately hide such a thing. Kendrick’s head, or rather, the head of that “Kendrick” in Ring Town, had most likely been tampered with.

Myss impatiently flipped through the memories and finally found his target, the day V.O.R. officially intervened.

It was a snowy winter night. After yet another failed experiment, fifteen-year-old Kendrick threw down the quill pen in his hand.

He had grown much taller, but the eyes in the mirror still carried a sinister gloom. He wasn’t old, yet that heavy, dark aura had already begun to show, making people panic when they looked at him.

However, in these years, Kendrick still only fought and didn’t kill. His research into living sacrifice had also remained only on paper. In exchange, Peyton watched him almost every step, even bringing Kendrick along when he went out to pray.

At this moment, Kendrick crumpled the parchment into a ball and threw it hard onto the floor. The paper ball bounced a few times and stopped by Peyton’s feet.

“Gingerbread with extra ginger juice, and weak tea mixed with milk.” Eighteen-year-old Peyton brought him gingerbread and hot tea, his tone still gentle.

“I should just join the Stargazers Society.”

Kendrick said hoarsely, “All the knowledge about Magibases leads to dead ends in the end. Just that summoning spell that changes every year, almost no one has clearly written its principles. This sort of thing also has to be hidden away?”

“The Stargazers Society has all kinds of people mixed together, and no one knows their recruitment standards. You had better not think about them.”

Peyton said gently, revealing a sincere smile. “Ken, in these years, you built a solid foundation in theory. I will think of a way and see if we can get in contact with a Kingdom Archmage.”

Kendrick remained noncommittal.

“If I never obtain magic, can I still become a monk of the Church of Cadence?” He watched Peyton from the corner of his eye.

“The God of Cadence is merciful.” Peyton nodded.

“Mm, but I’m not very merciful.” Kendrick said, “If not having magic weren’t so annoying, I would want to go to the church right now and hunt those wanted criminals running around everywhere together with you.”

When he said this, there was even a trace of longing in his tone.

“Wait until you come of age.” Peyton amusedly patted his head. “It is rare that Grandfather is willing to support us. Focus on your research. Perhaps there will truly be hope in the future.”

“Only Grandfather supports us. Everyone else wishes I would disappear.”

“I was just about to talk to you about this, Ken.”

Peyton’s expression grew serious. “Next month, there will be a very important dinner. These next few days, no matter what others say, you must control that deadly temper of yours. If you are confined, I won’t be able to bring you with me.”

Kendrick rolled his eyes up and stared at Peyton through his slightly long bangs. “…”

“You should have heard of the ‘End-of-Winter Feast.’ Many famous and important people will attend.”

Peyton continued, “If things go smoothly, we might be able to make connections with an Archmage’s student. That way, our research into Magibases can go a step further.”

“I understand.” Kendrick withdrew his gaze. “I will behave, Brother.”

Suddenly, Kendrick felt a needle-like discomfort, as if something were peering at him from the dark. He abruptly raised his head and looked toward the source of that sting.

Outside the window, two fingers’ depth of snow had accumulated on the windowsill. The scene beyond the window was eroded and worn away by flying snow, a field of mottled white.

There was nothing, not even the corpse of a little bird. Kendrick frowned, then lowered his head again.

“Hurry and drink your tea. Look, it’s getting cold.” Peyton took the opportunity to pat his head.

“Okay, Brother.”

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