Time of the Blind Beast - Chapter 15

The air was thick with the stench of dampness. Due to the rain that had persisted throughout early spring, the mansion couldn’t be ventilated frequently, and the air had become stagnant.

“Major, the doctor has arrived.”

Another new doctor had come to the mansion. As Rose delivered the news to Ezekiel, she swallowed a heavy sigh.

Ever since she had first witnessed Ezekiel’s unusual symptoms, Rose had kept a close eye on him. Fortunately, after a brief sleep, the man returned to his usual self. He recognized her by the sound of her footsteps, and their days passed just as they always had.

But on the days when he had a doctor’s visit, he emptied several bottles of alcohol and fell into a hallucinatory state. He mumbled incoherent nonsense, trapped in his own delusions. Rose tried talking to him or made deliberate noises to catch his attention, but he didn’t respond. It was as if his body and soul were disconnected.

When he drank excessively, he experienced mental confusion.

Alcohol and drugs had the immediate benefit of relieving his pain, but they were substances that people with a healthy mind and body wouldn’t need. The growing number of empty bottles was an objective measure of his increasing distress.

Rose observed the rough, worn look on his face. Lately, he had been skipping meals, relying more and more on alcohol, and his cheeks had grown hollow. He seemed desolate and barren, like his soul had turned into dry sand, scattering in the wind. He was on the edge.

After consulting three or four more doctors, Rose immediately requested a meeting with Madam Serva.

“Whether it’s the drugs or the alcohol, it’s dangerous. He’s consuming twice as much as he did when I first came.”

Rose meticulously described the strange symptoms Ezekiel had been showing. Madam Serva listened with a dazed expression.

“It’s hard to believe. When I was caring for him, he was starting to rely on the drugs more, but… something like that…”

She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, as if she couldn’t bring herself to deny Rose’s report. The thought that it couldn’t be true was nothing more than a wish. As an elderly woman in her seventies with an injured leg, who had to care for a blind master, manage the staff, and oversee the household’s affairs, Madam Serva didn’t have the luxury to observe Ezekiel’s changes as closely as Rose did.

Moreover, Madam Serva was one of the first people to suggest laudanum to Ezekiel. When he had first returned during the winter, appearing wild and unapproachable, there was hardly anyone who could approach him. Even Madam Serva, who had practically raised Ezekiel, was at a loss with his sudden and overwhelming changes.

“…I suppose I didn’t notice. I’ve already seen him change so drastically before. Maybe it’s a relief that you’re there by his side, Rose.”

Rose, having seen Ezekiel only in his relatively stable state under the influence of laudanum, may have been more attuned to noticing the changes.

“We need to remove all the wine and medicine from his bedroom.”

But when Rose finally voiced the conclusion she had been mulling over, Madam Serva remained silent with a complicated expression. After a moment, she asked a surprising question.

“Rose, has anyone else seen him like this?”

“No, I’m the only one who knows.”

“Good. Make sure no rumors start spreading, and keep the doors securely shut.”

“…What about the drugs?”

“Leave them.”

Rose’s eyes widened in shock. She had expected Madam Serva, who cared for Ezekiel, to order those dangerous substances to be discarded immediately. It was the very reason she had reported to her first. Ezekiel was already highly dependent on alcohol and drugs, and there was no way he would listen to her advice. Madam Serva was the only person who could possibly convince him to stop.

However, Madam Serva’s response was entirely unexpected.

“Lord Ezekiel needs something to dull the pain. Whether that’s drugs or alcohol, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he doesn’t feel the pain.”

“But his mind is becoming more clouded every day. Isn’t that also a form of pain?”

“You said he looks happy in his own world, didn’t you? So what’s the problem?”

Delusion had turned into his private world.

Rose was speechless. She stared at Madam Serva, suddenly realizing just how old and exhausted the woman in front of her truly was.

“He just wants to find peace, even if it’s in that way. Imagine if he couldn’t bear the pain any longer and began to harm himself or lash out at others, there’s no one here who could handle that. The servants we have would all flee.”

Madam Serva didn’t reverse her decision. There was some sense in her concern. Who wouldn’t understand Ezekiel’s desire to experience some semblance of normalcy, even through the power of hallucination? And she was right—there was no one in the mansion strong enough to subdue him.

“I understand.”

Rose backed down. Unless someone with authority intervened, there was no way for a mere servant like Rose to go against the will of both the master and the housekeeper.

And so, nothing changed.

When the doctor finished his futile examination today, Ezekiel would once again lock himself in his bedroom, wandering through his dreamlike, hallucinatory world. A world that should have been his but could never be. A world that would dissipate like mist when he awoke, yet one that he longed for desperately—a world denied to him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Brehman, a medical doctor.”

The doctor was already seated in the empty drawing room when they arrived. His hair was turning white, revealing his age, yet his sharp, clear eyes still had the vitality of a man in his prime.

“I’ve been briefed by the housekeeper on the Major’s condition. But I will need to examine your eyes myself, if that’s alright?” Dr. Brehman politely requested permission.

Ezekiel sat loosely in the chair with the reclined backrest. His response was short and indifferent.

“Go ahead.”

His tone suggested obligation rather than expectation. Rose glanced at him. Dark circles marked his eyes, evidence of his constant fatigue. Anyone would feel the same after enduring painful examinations only to receive the same diagnosis every time.

Dr. Brehman casually took out his lamp. Today, the lamp’s brightness seemed unusually harsh. Rose turned her head slightly, avoiding the light. She had become far too accustomed to the rules of this mansion. The bright light was unwelcome.

It was the light that would guide him back into hallucination.

A radiant but eerie world.

Ezekiel’s eyes flinched as the lamp’s strong light hit them. It was clear that today’s light was brighter than usual.

“Doctor, please wait a moment.”

Rose called out to Dr. Brehman and reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. She wrapped it around the glass of the lamp and tied it securely, the thin fabric dimming the light.

“You’re quite attentive, young lady,” Dr. Brehman remarked with admiration.

Rose stepped back, keeping her attention on Ezekiel’s hand. It had become a habit for her to hold his hand during the examination. What had started as an occasional gesture had turned into a routine.

Surprisingly, Ezekiel never pushed her away when she held his hand. It likely meant that, despite his outward indifference, he craved the presence of someone to share his burden.

The shadows lengthened in the light. Rose silently counted the seconds.

Ezekiel’s broad, rough hand gripped her fingers tightly. From the pressure, she could gauge the intensity of his endurance.

Usually, the examination was brief. The doctors had already heard the details of his condition from Madam Serva, and none of them wanted to keep the light on a suffering patient for too long.

But Dr. Brehman took his time, carefully examining Ezekiel’s eyes. Expecting it to end quickly, Rose began to grow anxious as the examination dragged on.

Her mouth was dry.

His pain never dulled, and for those watching, it never became easier to witness. Though Ezekiel usually numbed his pain with drugs, on the days when a doctor was scheduled to visit, he had to adjust his dosage so that he wouldn’t be completely intoxicated. Combined with the light he so despised, it was as if he was being forced to relive the day his eyes were first injured.

For Rose, it was also a time to relive her guilt. Watching him suffer reminded her of memories she couldn’t erase, no matter how hard she tried. The scenes played out in her mind, frame by frame, like a wound tightening with every breath—the voice of Akenaus calling her his accomplice, his mocking smile, the pounding of her heart as she scattered the poison in Ezekiel’s eyes, the grip on her throat as his hands closed around her neck.

Suddenly, she found herself struggling to breathe. A suffocating feeling washed over her, though the bruises around her neck had long since faded.

Rose exhaled sharply.

The lamp finally turned off after what felt like an eternity. Just before his face disappeared into shadow, Rose caught a glimpse of Ezekiel’s pallid, bloodless complexion.

No one spoke. They were all lost in their own thoughts, too preoccupied to break the silence.

Ezekiel slowly raised one hand to cover his face. But the heat from his hand did nothing to relieve the throbbing pain in his head. It only made the uncomfortable pulsing worse.

He needed something cool. Grasping blindly, he picked up whatever was closest and pressed it against his eyes. The sensation was perfect—cool and soft, gradually soothing the burning heat in his head.

It wasn’t until the heat subsided that Ezekiel realized the cool touch he was feeling came from Rose’s hand. She had gently gathered her fingers and was softly stroking his eyes with only the faintest of pressure.