Tamed A Blackened Slave Man - Chapter 72: The Human, The Beast

The individual who entered my view when I turned my head was none other than Cassadin.

“Cassadin.”

The silver medal adorning his chest sparkled in the sunlight.

Cassadin’s eyes were icy, silently glaring at Damian. The moment our eyes met, Cassadin forcefully pulled me away from Damian.

I looked up at Cassadin, my eyes wide with surprise. Damian, wearing a faint smile, dusted off my back and shoulders that had come in contact with him.

“Are you injured?”

Cassadin was here, and I found some relief in that fact.

“I’m fine. Has the ceremony ended, Cassadin?”

“Yes.”

‘Should I refer to him more formally now that his status is officially higher than mine?’

While I was contemplating how to address Cassadin, Damian sarcastically interjected from nearby.

“From slave to a Marquess. It’s absurd to the point of being laughable.”

Cassadin didn’t even feign interest in what Damian had been saying. Instead of replying, he removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

However, Cassadin’s uniform jacket was much too large for me. As a result, it looked more like the jacket was wearing me than the other way around.

Regardless of Damian’s presence, Cassadin gazed at me in his oversized uniform jacket, his eyes softening.

“It suits you.”

Observing his behavior, Damian smirked and smugly retorted.

“Perhaps it’s because you were born a slave, but this is unimaginably crude.”

“Your Grace.”

When I addressed him, Damian merely slicked back his hair, as if he didn’t understand what the problem was. His sickly pale skin had regained its healthy color.

‘Did he manage to regain his composure in such a short time? There must still be some residual pain from his heart disease.’

I was almost scared at Damian’s obsessive efforts to conceal his body’s ridiculous state. Damian’s eyes narrowed for a moment before the corner of his lips curled upward.

“Aren, can I ask you something?”

What was he going to inquire about this time? My silence seemed to give him the affirmation he needed, and Damian slowly opened his mouth to speak.

“I want to know why you keep protecting someone who is no longer part of your family.”

“……”

“A gladiator slave who daringly forgot the kindness bestowed upon him and tricked his whole family into taking part in the fighting competition. His departure from your family was also completely his own choice.”

Damian was nonchalantly referring to Cassadin, who was now a Marquess, as a mere slave. If I responded vehemently, I would be playing right into Damian’s hand.

‘He would surely question why I became so incensed on behalf of someone who isn’t even a part of our family.’

Because I was aware of that, I just remained silent. Seeing my lack of reaction, Damian tilted his head and continued.

“Normally, people would be screaming curses at me by now.”

But Aren, why aren’t you reacting in anger? ^[ED/N: There weren’t any quotation marks in the raw.]

When his question ended, his emerald eyes glittered with anticipation. His gaze seemed to follow me, as if he didn’t want to miss a single reaction I might have to his remarks.

I was just about to reply, but Cassadin beat me to it.

“I wasn’t aware Your Grace was so interested in the affairs of other families.”

Damian’s eyes slowly shifted towards Casadin. Not a hint of warmth could be detected in those icy green irises.

“I didn’t ask you a question.”

“It seems Your Grace doesn’t hold me in high regard.”

Damian responded with a soft laugh. His lips curled into a smile, but his eyes, which were focused on Casadin, didn’t mirror the same sentiment.

“You must believe that the entire world is within your grasp after defeating me in the fighting competition.”

“I haven’t insinuated such a thing.”

Damian quietly studied Cassadin’s face with an impassive expression as he continued to deliver composed responses. Then he gradually spoke up again.

“Do you think I am ignorant of the atrocities you have committed?”

Then Damian shifted his gaze from Cassadin to me.

“Is Aren here aware that you had taken my butler hostage and intentionally dragged me into the Fighting Competition?”

‘He took his butler hostage? Intentionally dragged him into the competition?’

Seeing my eyes widen at this new information, a satisfied smile appeared on Damian’s face.

“Unfortunately, it seems that Milady was not aware of this. How dare he trick not only me, but also the family that had taken him in. What a brazen man he is.”

“……”

“I think it would be wise for Milady to sever ties with this man for her own sake.”

Then I clutched the jacket that Cassadin had gently placed over me. Damian was trying to sow discord between Cassadin and me.

In this situation, the better course of action was to pretend not to believe Damian and dispute his accusations.

“Surely, Your Grace must be mistaken. Cassadin could never behave in such a manner.”

This, in turn, prompted Damian to burst into laughter, seemingly finding my response absurd. Damian looked at me with sympathetic eyes before he resumed speaking.

“How regrettable this is. For someone as intelligent as Milady to be so uninformed about issues related to Cassadin.”

“……”

“I genuinely feel pity for Milady, so I desire to assist her to the best of my capabilities.”

Through Damian’s words, I discerned that he was attempting to create distance between Cassadin and me. But why? Was he under the impression that his influence over my healing ability would be jeopardized with Cassadin in the picture?

Previously, using my memories from my past life, I could typically decipher Damian’s motives with ease. However, unlike those instances, I was now struggling to understand his intentions.

‘Could it be because he envies Cassadin, who was instantly promoted to Marquess after humiliating him with a defeat?’

It was puzzling. If that was the reason, Damian wouldn’t have taken the trouble to visit me. He could have simply used others to disseminate rumors about Cassadin, as he’d always done before.

‘And his allusion to poisonous butterflies. Damian compared Cassadin to a perilous butterfly known as a violo.’

‘The violo disperses its poison not only on the flower but also on its surroundings. Even if it means the flower wilts from its poison, it forbids other insects from coming near.’

Of all the possible comparisons he could make, why did Damian compare Cassadin to that poisonous butterfly?

It was when I began to sense something amiss that a thought occurred to me.

‘The main ingredient is a powder made from grinding the Venomous Butterfly plant, which only grows in the North. The Venomous Butterfly plant is highly poisonous and can be identified by its smell, but that smell disappears when combined with jadestone powder.’

A lethal butterfly named ‘violo’ and the Venomous Butterfly plant, which was the prime ingredient of the poison Cassadin had used on the Crown Prince.

Damian was already aware that Cassadin was the true perpetrator behind the attempt to poison the Crown Prince.

‘The reason he sought me out immediately upon waking must have been to subtly convey that he knew Cassadin was guilty.’

This was a trial. He was gauging whether I would continue to shield Cassadin, despite his awareness of the perpetrator of the Crown Prince’s poisoning, or whether I would forsake Cassadin, opting instead for my relationship with him.

“I will assist you, Milady, in escaping the clutches of this man.”

Observing my lack of response, Damian reiterated his proposal. His bright emerald-green irises, nestled within sharply angled eyes, reminded me of a venomous serpent.

Cassadin seemed as if he was about to speak up on my behalf to Damian, but I quickly shook my head and tugged on Cassadin’s sleeve.

If Cassadin intervened, the situation was bound to become worse. I couldn’t carelessly speak and risk antagonizing Damian.

At the moment, survival was more important than revenge.

‘Besides, Damian has a vast number of followers.’

The hostage Cassadin had allegedly captured was likely Kindel. If I truly knew Cassadin, he would have kept Kindel alive.

As I kept searching for a solution and finally made up my mind, I locked my gaze with Damian’s and then spoke.

“So, does Your Grace imply that you will assist me in escaping Cassadin’s clutches? Is that right?”

“Indeed. It is obvious to me that this man lacks sanity.”

“What does Your Grace consider to be the standard of sanity?”

Upon hearing my question, Damian’s eyes narrowed even more. He looked at me for a moment, then glanced at Cassadin before responding.

“Ordinarily, individuals judge those who exceed the average human spectrum as insane.”

“If I understand Your Grace’s explanation correctly, does that mean Cassadin has transcended the average human capacity? On what basis does Your Grace believe so?”

Damian’s tightly sealed lips parted. He fixed a keen gaze on Cassadin’s jacket that rested on my shoulders.

“His swordsmanship is exceptional, for one. But most of all, the reason why this man cannot be deemed sane is…”

Pausing briefly, Damian deliberately measured his words.

“His perverse possessiveness. He has a strange obsession that leads him to see the sister who adopted him as a woman, not a sibling.”

“……”

When did Damian notice something that even my father didn’t recognize? Did Cassadin say something about me during the last round of the fighting competition before Damian collapsed?

Noticing that I was looking at him with a bewildered expression, Damian narrowed his eyes into a smile and continued.

“It is a desire that no human who understands gratitude can possess.”

Damian’s gaze fell on Cassadin. In his darkened green eyes, there was a profound hatred for Cassadin.

“The man you brought from the gladiator arena was not a human but a beast.”

Cassadin did not refute Damian’s assertions. The afternoon shadows seemed to accentuate the sadness on his face.

It was then that I realized that Cassadin also considered himself not a human but a beast.

‘…Cassadin.’

Just as I was staring at Cassadin with sympathetic eyes, a large hand suddenly appeared in my view. Tracing the hand upwards, I found Damian’s face, donning a meaningful smile.

His angled eyes folded into curves. When our gazes met, he asked in a low, steady voice.

“Will you take my hand? Or…”

“Will you take the beast’s hand?”