A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat - Chapter 124: A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat

“Aah, aaaaaahhhh!!!”

Raiden’s day began no differently than usual.

An utterly ordinary day.

A hell that had repeated every day since that day.

The boy eventually collapsed, tears streaming down his face, screaming until he was about to lose consciousness.

As if that was all he could do in this world filled with misfortune.

.

.

.

“Gasp……!” 

Raiden opened his eyes.

As his head shot up, beads of cold sweat that had formed on his skin scattered across the floor.

Clutching his head, which felt like it was about to split open, the boy frowned.

His clouded consciousness gradually returned.

He felt the sunlight streaming in from the window stinging his eyes.

“……Is it already morning?”

Raiden muttered as he sat up.

He suddenly felt a sense of strangeness.

It was because of the scenery reflected in his blurry vision.

He had clearly fallen asleep in the Academy dormitory.

But for some reason, he was now in a different place.

“This is……”

Neatly organized bookshelves.

Tidy furniture and a desk piled with documents.

It was a space with an overall calm and gentle atmosphere.

Raiden quietly spoke the name of the room.

“…Mother’s study?”

At that moment.

A voice came from behind him.

“Hmm? What are you doing, Raiden?”

Raiden felt as if his mind had gone numb.

A familiar voice.

Soothing and affectionate.

A voice that resembled the scent of April spring breezes.

The boy turned his stiff neck to look in the direction the voice had come from.

“Your face is a mess… Did you have a bad dream?”

Standing there was a woman with red hair.

Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, her appearance as the wind blew against her was like a painting.

She was a single rose, fluttering in the breeze.

All the thoughts that had filled Raiden’s mind until just now vanished.

On the canvas of his bleached thoughts, only one color remained.

Red.

Painting a picture of longing and grief.

A loss of the past.

“Mother…!”

Raiden rose from the sofa he was sitting on and ran towards her.

The woman gently embraced the boy’s body.

“You should be careful. What if you hurt yourself running like that?”

Her leisurely words echoed in his ears.

Those words were filled with concern for him.

The boy finally burst into tears at her warmth.

The woman gently patted Raiden’s back, comforting him.

“It seems like you really had a nightmare.”

“Sob, yes… It was, hiccup, a very, scary, dream…”

“There, there, shh… It’s alright now.”

“Mother, hiccup, Mother… Because of me…”

“Don’t worry. Mother is right here beside you… It was just a dream, forget about it.”

The boy held the woman’s body even tighter.

The woman, in turn, wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

Raiden desperately rubbed his face against the woman’s hand.

It felt strange because he couldn’t feel any warmth from it.

But the boy decided not to mind.

Because this fleeting nightmare was sweeter to him than the hellish reality.

The boy was just focusing on this moment.

The reunion with his mother, which he had yearned for so much.

“I’m sorry, sob, Mother….”

“It’s alright, my child… Really.”

The piece of the boy’s soul was devoured by demons.

Like the 30-cent silver coin he had traded his fate for, it lay discarded on the floor.

The boy, clinging to a false illusion.

From his right wrist.

The blood-red reality dripped down.