STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

36. EXPLANATIONS

Even after all that, Redika escaped.

"Cale-nim... the truth is, when I cut off that mage's arm... I noticed something odd."

Choi Han seemed genuinely distraught as he revealed this, as if he was committing some type of betrayal divulging this to Cale.

"There were wounds on his arm. Wounds neither I or the Dragon made... it looked like..." he seemed to doubt himself, but corrected his doubts before saying, "they looked exactly like the wounds that were on South-ssi's arm."

The arm that miraculously, completely recovered before they could all even blink.

"Even the missing finger was the same. I know I wasn't just seeing things, Cale-nim..." Choi Han seemed to have thought so far about this the entire way back from that confrontation with Redika.

It must be agonizing. He actually quite liked South— he threw his entire body over South to protect him from further harm damn it— so needing to put him in such a point of suspicion and wariness hurts his heart.

And Cale had to admit.

He didn't mind the stable boy hiding such a power— but it was certainly something dangerous and unnerving. He knew exactly why South hid it, too. How useful would such a power be? How dangerous would the people be after him?

(And most of all, this wasn't an Ancient Power recorded in the story, nor was it magic— so who on earth is South to begin with?)

Honestly, Cale Henituse didn't have the right to demand answers from South for any of this. But he knew that Choi Han's sword will always falter at the thought of it all.

So, he decided,

"Just ask South directly, then. I'm sure he will give you an answer that satisfies you," Cale said. "Like I did for you."

Cale had sworn an oath at the risk of his life for Choi Han's trust.

South would easily be able to do something similar if he truly wanted to.

-

And that's how South ended up in Cale's room in the palace, giving an explanation.

"Well..." he wrung his fingers nervously. "I wasn't hiding it on purpose. I'm just... used to not talking about it?"

It was a silly explanation.

"I'm sorry, I've never had to actually explain it to someone else before," he fumbled. "So I don't know where to begin."

Cale sort of sympathized.

Choi Han was very patient, holding on to his knees, sitting straight and at full attention. It was kind of nerve-wracking to have to try and conjure words around him.

"Start with what you did to Redika," Cale proposed, "any other details we'll decipher along the way."

South nodded, and began.

-

If everyone in the world were connected by invisible threads known as 'bonds', then South could access these threads.

And through these threads, he could do a number of things.

"Usually the bonds I want will form externally like this," South told them, arms extended to show his tattoos. "And when I injure myself where the tattoos are, I am able to stagger someone's soul through the connection. Which makes them unable to stand up or makes them stop moving just for a short moment."

Choi Han remembered the battle at the Tolz Summer House.

"But that only works for people who have recognized and formed a bond with me, no matter how small," South said. "The other way the connection can be strengthened is through blood. It is temporary, unlike the tattoos, but it is stronger."

And now Cale's brows furrowed.

Redika was a blood-crazed mage, and they all knew that. Choi Han could still remember the sight of him at Lock's village, when he feasted over the dead bodies of the beastmen like their blood was a delicacy.

It disgusted Choi Han, but how ironically amusing was it that it worked against him this time?

"In that state of connection, I can do a number of things," South told them. "But I usually only do one thing— and that is to exchange my body's injuries with theirs."

Now that explained very much.

The bomb's injuries that Redika caused him— he'd sent it right back. And there wasn't a single scar left behind.

It also explained something that had been weighing on Choi Han's mind.

"So, that day, when you were attacked," he spoke carefully, and Cale's shoulders tensed. "You only had minor injuries."

South blinked, as if he was trying to remember it too.

"Yes. Yes I did," he said. "I had another sleep attack before I could transfer all those injuries to the last guy, so he escaped. What a shame."

Choi Han's breath hitched.

"...the other three guys died."

South hummed, "yes, and? You've killed people too."

Choi Han didn't say anything further. Cale couldn't help the bitter feeling in his gut, either— South just didn't understand. He didn't understand the implications of it.

South's injuries that day had been so bad, it killed people. Maybe not all of it was inflicted by those people. South had no qualms about inflicting injuries on himself— but wasn't that worse? Wouldn't that mean he willingly injured himself horrendously, just to subject someone else to it?

He may not keep the wounds, but the pain, the blood loss, it was still endured. Even now South was wrapped up in a warm coat, cradling some warm soup, because he'd lost so much blood, his temperature had lowered and his fingers trembled against the bowl.

And he did it three times.

And then he just stumbled home, and acted like nothing had happened. And no one would ever know that anything had happened, because all the evidence was gone and on the dead bodies instead.

Oh, what has this guy been through?