16 - The Time of the Blind Beast (15+ Revised Edition)
Chapter 16
It was a steady pace. As I slowly regulated my breathing to match that pace, I felt a little better.
“……Are you in a lot of pain?”
Dr. Briman’s voice brushed against my ear. Ezekiel tapped his forehead with Rose’s hand.
“I feel like my insides have turned to mush and melted. It’s so foul.”
My fingers twitched. But they didn’t pull away.
“What are the diagnostic results?”
I pressed him. A moment of silence followed. Ezekiel bit down on his lip, anticipating the inevitable outcome. The Doctors who came to examine him always fell silent, as if by prior agreement, before delivering their verdict. This silence had become utterly tiresome.
“There is good news and bad news.”
“The good news first.”
“Regarding the pain you are feeling right now, Major. I don’t necessarily believe it is the worst possible sign.”
“Why not?”
“A body that is completely dead feels no pain.”
Through his experiences on the battlefield, he understood instinctively. When wounded soldiers were brought in during combat, military surgeons would amputate useless parts to save the rest of the body. Those severed limbs no longer caused their former owners pain once the stumps healed. While it was rare, some people claimed to still feel pain in lost limbs, but that could be attributed to the shock of seeing their own limbs severed while still conscious.
“Pain means the body is reacting to stimuli, meaning it is alive.”
“My eyes are still alive?”
“That is my assessment.”
It was unexpected hope.
“And the bad news?”
“I don’t know how to treat it, or if it can be treated.”
However, the false hope was fleeting.
“Major, do you know how many types of poisons exist in the world?”
Having never studied medicine, I had no way of knowing. As Ezekiel waited in silence for the words that would follow, Dr. Briman sighed deeply.
“There are too many to count. Aside from mercury, arsenic, and sulfuric acid, there are poisonous mushrooms like belladonna and digitalis, as well as venoms from animals like snakes, scorpions, and tree frogs, and plant toxins such as aconite, hemlock, and datura, all used for poisoning as needed. Furthermore, various poisons are often mixed together to enhance their effects. Given that it appears to have entered the eyes and paralyzed vision, I suspect neurotoxins are mixed in, but that’s likely not all. Frankly, my medical knowledge and abilities make it difficult to guarantee any outcome. There’s a possibility that attempting treatment could make it worse.”
In the end, it was the same. It was just a more polite way of expressing refusal than the doctors who had flatly stated, “I cannot do it,” and washed their hands of the matter.
A cynical smile flickered across my lips, which had been twitching uncontrollably. But even that turned into a cold, detached chuckle.
“Try it. Try it poorly.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t care, just try.”
Ezekiel’s request carried a chilling resonance that sounded like more than a simple suggestion or encouragement.
Dr. Briman looked at the man. Of course, there was no response.
“I believe you have misunderstood what I said.”
“No, I understood perfectly. But is there anything that can get worse from here?”
“……”
“If my eyes die completely, then there will be no more pain!”
No matter how many Doctors he brought in, the diagnosis never changed, and he grew weary of it. The moment the surging fever crossed its limit, he lashed out at the repeated despair.
Had hope ever felt so distant?
Even when trapped in a fortress surrounded by enemies, desperately fighting back and holding on, he had never felt so powerless.
Yes. Powerlessness. That was the problem. Ezekiel had never in his life been in a state where he could do nothing. He was a soldier who had always completed any mission or responsibility, no matter how impossible it seemed. In his position leading his men, he had never uttered, nor could he ever utter, defeatist words like “It’s difficult,” “I’m not confident,” or “I can’t.” He was a born soldier who had fought battles, boosting his soldiers’ morale with the slightest glimmer of hope as his weapon.
If it were something within his own power, he would have gladly faced it.
But medicine was not Ezekiel’s domain. The Doctors, in fact, so easily spoke of impossibilities that he had lived his life unaware of. They repeatedly crushed his spirit and stole his hope. Such frustration was truly driving him mad.
He blurted out impulsively,
“If that’s the case, you should have just let me gouge my eyes out.”
The drawing-room fell into a terrifying silence. No one dared to speak.
Ezekiel closed his eyes. Whether his eyes were closed or open, the world remained a deep night. He was truly sick of the unchanging reality.
Losing one’s sight was not merely the objective symptom of not being able to see; it was accompanied by many other losses.
At first, reality and dreams became confused. He couldn’t trust himself to know if he was awake or asleep. After a long period of confusion, he established one criterion: if he could see, it was a dream; if he couldn’t see, it was reality. Even that wasn’t perfect. Some days, he wandered through pitch darkness even in his dreams.
Next, he lost the ability to trust others. Besides Achenaus, who had orchestrated this atrocity, and the unknown woman, everyone was suspect.
Even if they appeared sympathetic and kind, obediently following his lead, he couldn’t know their true intentions. He couldn’t even tell if they were mocking him with their expressions and gazes right before his eyes.
In the past, he could visualize a person’s face just by hearing their voice, but now nothing could be drawn. Consequently, conversations with people became difficult. It was less an exchange and more a one-sided flow.
Sometimes, he wondered if the person before him was a mirage, since he couldn’t see them. Thinking that he was yelling or getting angry at a mirage made it all seem pointless. He felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness and desolation.
The only ones he could trust were people he had known for many years, like Madam Serva, or the soldiers who had risked their lives alongside him in war. However, Madam Serva had become an elderly woman leaning on a cane, barely able to care for herself, and his soldiers were busy scouring every corner of Astria at his command.
As the presence of others grew fainter, his own emotions, stagnant like muddy water in one place, became increasingly distinct.
In the end, he was as good as alone.
“Did they plan this? …Those who blinded me.”
His voice, heavy with despair, scraped its way out of his throat.
It was an old question he had harbored in his heart.
“Achenaus isn’t that brilliant. He would have wanted to kill me outright. So, was it that woman’s doing?”
This same question filled his mind every day he saw a Doctor. Lost in thought, he would ask himself questions, which would then spill out as words without him realizing it. Even though the Doctors or maids, who heard him, had no clear answers. He didn’t know what expressions they wore as they listened, but perhaps because he couldn’t see their flustered or awkward faces, the words came out more easily.
The drawing-room remained deathly quiet.
“If they had just ended my life swiftly, I wouldn’t feel this much hatred. At least, I would have received a soldier’s honorable farewell. I would have thought they respected me a little. But thanks to that woman turning me into a cripple, a living corpse, and mocking me, I am neither alive nor dead.”
A sneer escaped him.
Let them try to go blind themselves. Would they last even a single day? That impatient Achenaus.
And what about that woman?
Was she living well with Achenaus now, in exchange for plunging him into solitude and despair?
“Damn it, someone say something! Am I alone here?”
A moment of confusion rippled through the silence, where even breathing seemed to have ceased.
Was he truly left alone in this drawing-room? Had he been talking to ghosts all this time? Had his blindness driven him mad?
It was all because of these eyes. These eyes constantly confused his senses.
He impulsively brought his hand to his eyes.
Just then.
“Don’t do that!”
There was a force that rushed in and pushed his hand away. It was Rose. Judging that her meager strength was insufficient to block Ezekiel’s grip, she quickly pulled his head deep into her chest and shielded him, preventing him from touching his eyes further.
“Don’t do things like this. This isn’t right, Major.”
It was words he had heard repeatedly, like a parrot.
This is not allowed. That is not allowed.
Treatment is impossible, but removal is also not allowed. In any case, his eyes were neither alive nor dead. They were there, only causing pain and serving no purpose, yet if he tried to remove them, everyone around him would panic and try to stop him.
It was a baffling contradiction.
He was sick of his situation, where nothing changed. There was a limit to how much one could endure. Especially when there was no hope to be found.
His stomach churned instantly.
Ezekiel retorted coldly,
“What do you know? Have you ever experienced this terrible pain?”
His sharp retort left her speechless. Without knowing the full truth of his situation, he had accurately struck at her conscience.
Rose pressed her lips together tightly.
“……I haven’t experienced it, but I know.”
“Stop with the platitudes.”
Ezekiel replied indifferently.
“No, tell me. What am I enduring right now? How long will I have to endure it? I’ve seen dozens of Doctors. They were all imbeciles. As soon as they diagnosed me, they were too busy running away to offer a treatment. Will this tiresome back-and-forth ever end?”
