SCT-Novel Chapter 142 - Justiciar
Chapter 142 - Justiciar
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' But instead," he continued, "you immediately accepted my statement as fact. How utterly… predictable. And therefore," he concluded, that flat affect returning, "boring."
So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so boring." His voice cracked slightly on the last repetition, and he finally pressed his hands to his face. "I… do not know… what to do anymore."
Let me try to process this. What would typical parents do if their child expressed such profound boredom? They'd likely dismiss it as teenage angst, wouldn't they? And he's tried everything – elaborate, attention-grabbing schemes, relentless intellectual pursuits, even subtle manipulation, all in a desperate attempt to feel something. And still… nothing. Oh god, my empathy isn't just a gentle nudge anymore; it's a deep, visceral ache in my chest.
"The most recent astronomical treatise disseminated by the Royal Library proved to be nothing short of… pedestrian," Levi stated, his voice laced with disdain. "It was, quite frankly, an insult to the very realm of scientific inquiry, Father. It is a source of considerable chagrin to contemplate that they even dare to invoke your studies… But yes," he continued, slowly lowering his hands from his face, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, "you would simply pen them a further, painstakingly detailed elucidation of the fundamental concepts… patiently correcting their egregious oversights."
I could feel the sting of tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I remembered him mentioning his father's potential disappointment at the fire in the cemetery. And now, hearing him say his father would have responded with patient, scholarly correction… It painted such a vivid picture of a man who valued intellect and gentle guidance. Maybe, just maybe, it was his father who taught him to temper those destructive urges I'd glimpsed earlier, or perhaps it was simply the fear of disappointing the one person who truly understood him. Gods… To not only lose your father, but also your mentor, your intellectual equal, and possibly the only source of genuine warmth in that gilded cage… That loss, the profound sense of being adrift… I can't even begin to fathom the crushing loneliness he must have felt.
"I desperately wish you could just... tell me what to do, Father," teenage Levi confessed, his voice raw. "No one here truly understands. I try to articulate what I 'feel' – this profound emptiness, this utter lack of... anything – over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. It never pierces their thick skulls. How do I even begin to explain this... this all-consuming sense of... nothingness? It's not sadness, it's not happiness, it's not anger... it's just... absence. And it's getting... progressively harder to maintain the facade. This constant performance of normalcy, this forced act of happiness, the relentless effort required to simply smile..."
Ah, Levi… that performance of normalcy, 'masking,' must have been an even more suffocating burden within the rigid confines of his traditional and oppressive upbringing. And yeah, even after countless conversations, even , who loves him and tries so hard to understand, can never truly grasp the full weight of his experience.
The sudden, sharp flapping of wings broke the stillness of the woods. Someone was approaching. I burrowed myself deeper into the undergrowth, my heart pounding. A moment later, a high-pitched noise began to emanate from somewhere deeper in the trees – like a melodic whistle.
"Come!" Levi bellowed, his voice carrying a strange urgency.
A figure stepped into the small, circular clearing. "Levi," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk. I... I... truly cannot bear him any longer."
Oh! That voice. I recognized it instantly. It was Julia. Had they already developed some kind of clandestine signal, a high-pitched whistle to summon each other in secret?
Levi walked towards her, and placed a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders. "Julia," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I know. I understand the depth of your frustration. But… no. You cannot kill him, you cannot hurt him. That will not solve anything. And besides… if you do, you forfeit any claim to the estate, to the lands."
"Who gives a damn about money when that fucking monster is constantly breathing down our necks, making our lives a living hell?" she spat, her voice laced with venomous fury. Levi took a deep breath, as if steeling himself.
"Just tell him you've decided to stay here for the evening," he instructed, his tone firm but low. "Tell him we're having dinner together.”
"No, no, he would never believe that. He would follow me, I know it. Let's just go to that summer house, even if it's only for two days… I swear, I can barely breathe in that house anymore," Julia pleaded, her voice tight with desperation.
Levi considered her words for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "Okay," he finally conceded. "You leave for the summer house. I will handle securing the necessary permissions and making sure our absence isn't questioned too closely. Just… be calm, Julia. Do not act rashly.”
"Thank you..." Julia whispered, her voice now trembling with a raw vulnerability that tugged at my heart. "When will this... finally be over? I hate this so much..."
Levi squeezed her arm gently. "I am trying, Julia. I am actively engaging with the elder council, pushing for reforms that would at least allow illegitimate children to inherit titles... But no," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his usually placid tone, "they do not budge an inch. Their archaic traditions are as impenetrable as stone."
Levi had mentioned that his initial political aim wasn't the immediate dismantling of the nobility, but the far more moderate goal of allowing nobles to marry commoners – a strategic move to at least dilute the dangerously incestuous bloodlines. I think I just witnessed the very genesis of that resolve. And even now, battling his struggles, he's trying to shield Julia from her , I'm certain. Julia's future hatred for him, her chilling resolve to ensure he never recovers from his coma and to deliberately bankrupt his company… The seeds of that future were being sown right here.
"They've begun the preparations... for the engagement..." Julia choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I... I don't want this... I hate it so much... We don't love each other, Levi... We're practically siblings! It's so disgusting..."
"I know, Julia," Levi said softly. "Don't worry about the future; we will always protect our autonomy. I promise you, I will ensure the estate they intend for us is far from this suffocating place. But..." a flicker of concern crossed his features, "...does my mother know you're here? In the woods?"
"No," Julia hissed, a flash of defiance in her tear-filled eyes. "That harpy has no idea. I used the secret trail we devised, and I sneaked out of my own house. Anything was better than staying there."
"Okay..." Levi murmured. He swiftly removed his jacket and offered it to her. "Wear this. And here," he gently dabbed at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, "clean your tears. We'll simply tell her we were spending time in the woods, enjoying the fresh air."
In the future, Julia will blossom into one of the most fiercely independent and resilient individuals I know, but here, she's just a child, her sense of self being eroded by the lack of agency, the oppressive and likely abusive family, all culminating in this forced marriage. Just a little teenage girl, weeping in the arms of her future husband, a boy equally trapped by circumstance.
Julia gratefully accepted the jacket, pulling it around her small frame as if seeking a fragile shield. "Just... just tell me this will end someday, Levi..."
Levi took a deep breath, his young face set with a grim determination. "It will end, Julia. I will end it, if that becomes the only way. But..." a shadow crossed his features, "...conviction alone is not enough. I need time, I need leverage, I need a plan. So, for now, Julia, we will do as they say. We will keep our true thoughts hidden behind smiles and chosen words. But I assure you, the moment they grant us the supposed independence of our own estate, the moment we are finally away from their control, things will be better. You will be better. I will make certain of it."
Yeah… he end it.
Wow… what an indomitable determination. Now, with absolute certainty, I understand the crucible in which justiciars are truly born. Not in dusty law libraries, not through detached philosophical debates about morality, not in the simplistic realm of black and white thinking. No. They are born by swimming through molten lava of injustice, by breathing in the toxic fumes of despair, by consuming the indigestible stones of hardship. By bearing witness to the weight of tradition, the creep of unchecked and corrupt power, and allowing that pain to transform not into an explosive rage, but into a inexorable glacier, capable of eroding mountains over time, patiently, meticulously, without ever revealing the full extent of its power until the very end.