Raised in Dungeon

242 I wanted to see the old you

Francis' birthday party.

When I first saw him, his black hair and red eyes were beautiful.

Among the apes who admired us, he alone looked at us with hatred.

Those red eyes of his,  shining crimson red but also dark and gloomy, looked at Leofric with pure and deep hatred.

I held back tears at the sight of him and also held back the grin on my mouth that I couldn't hide until the end.

"Who is that girl?" I asked one of the gate guards about a beautiful girl who could be lined up with us, wearing clothes we had never seen.

"She is the daughter of the Boldenville family, my lady," but I didn't care about the girl; my question was only to trigger my question afterward.

"Then, the black-haired one that talked to her earlier?"

"That's her knight; if I'm not mistaken, his name is Allen."

"Allen..." I started to get interested in him.

The one who had such a deep hatred must have been the one whose happiness was smashed to pieces. A pure form of hatred that even I myself didn't feel because, I had no happiness to begin with.

That's why I told him about Leofric's place in the castle and how Leofric would meet the Dolls back then. I wondered where that hatred would lead him, what would happen if he killed Leofric, and how he would act if he saw Leofric dead.

Where would that hatred take him? Just thinking about some of the possibilities makes it hard to hold back my laughter.

And sure enough, to my surprise, Leofric really did die. And it wasn't the boy who killed him.

"Amazing," I muttered when I saw Allen's distraught face as he watched Leofric die before him.

"That's the face I want to see—the face of someone who doesn't know where to vent his hatred. And how that hatred will affect everyone."

Although it probably wouldn't be able to kill Harald, at least his rampage could definitely kill all the nobles in the room. When that happens, the kingdom will definitely be destroyed inside.

I was too excited and laughed a little when I thought about it.

However, the maid interrupted, shouting a name at him.

"Felicia."

That name woke him up from his tantrum and made him leave the room, leaving behind the corpse of Leofric that he hated so much.

...

Twenty minutes after lunch, Allen went straight to the guest room where Margareth was resting.

As he stood at the door, her knight came out beside the room's door.

"Oh, you finally came," said the knight.

"I won't interfere with whatever you guys are doing inside, but if anything happens to Lady, I'll kill you on the spot.

Though something had already happened to her, "The knight left.

Allen then knocked on the door.

"Come in," Margareth answered inside.

Allen went inside and was immediately surprised when he looked into the room.

Over the past two weeks, Allen had gotten to know the ins and outs of Boldenville Manor House well; he often helped the maids move things around, so he was also familiar with the contents of the guest rooms and how they were arranged. But what he saw at that moment was completely different from the guest room he knew.

The room was in such disarray that a typhoon had ravaged its contents. The sheets had fallen off, the feathers inside the mattress spilled out, the floor was cluttered with women's clothes, and the walls had scratch marks.

The only thing that looked okay was the mirrored cabinet. Margareth was sitting there, wearing only a long white one-piece dress, looking into the mirror with a slightly bloody face from her own scratches.

Margareth looked back, looking at Allen with a blank stare.

"Since I said something bad about your food just now, I thought you would get depressed and kill yourself; thank God you didn't." Her voice became softer than usual. However, the content of her words was still heartbreaking, so the softness made her words more painful to hear. "You look so fine, huh? Not like me."

Allen had seen those eyes; they were the same eyes he had seen three years ago, when he first came to the Boldenville residence.

"Take care of my wound," Margareth said.

"Eh?"

"Can't you? Take a cotton swab and treat my wound."

Allen approached Margareth, and instead of taking a cotton swab, he used fire amnis to heal the wound.

"I see… You can also do healing amnis; I really hate it. We could increase our intimacy if you do a normal treatment."

Allen tried not to ask her about the room; instead, he asked more important questions.

"Why do you hate me? Have I done anything to you in the past?"

After trying to recall past events, Allen finally remembered Margareth. She was the one who told him Leofric's position that night. And that's why he walked out of the castle, leaving Felicia to search for him alone.

"Huh you think you're the special one who I hate? You're wrong; I don't just hate you; I hate everyone, and not just everyone; every nature, every living thing, and every thing, I hate them so much."

"Huh?"

"I hate my brothers and their reputation; I hate the soldiers who are willing to give their lives for the kingdom; I hate the people who can only stay silent in front of the kingdom; I also hate the happy people; I hate the dancing seed! I even hate the rock who didn't do anything! I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate everything in this world to the point that I could vomit because of them!"

Allen could only be silent, confused, and pensive, looking at the person in front of him, whom he found so strange.

"What I hate the most is people who live happily while they have big problems.

Yes, people like you."

"What do you mean-"

Margareth immediately threw her chair away, looking at Allen very angrily.

"It didn't mean anything! I hate the meaning itself! I hate you for asking me that! I hate everyone who tries to ask that!

What do you think I look forward to when I see you? I am stressed out! Where is the old you? I wanted to see him so badly! I'd love to see your eyes full of hate! To Leofric and all the people in this world!

Yes, you're just like me; you should be just like me! A human who gave up and craved hatred!

But you... You lost it...

You've lost that hatred inside you, and are even cooking happily.

I hate, I hate, I hate it so much."

Margareth became uncontrollably angry, she was about to use her hand to hit the mirror, quickly Allen held her hand.

"Don't touch me!"

Allen reflexively released his hand, while Margareth immediately pushed Allen's body away.

Margareth immediately sat down and panted. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly; she immediately regained her composure afterward.

"Hey, Allen..." she said softly.

"How can you lose the hatred inside you? Where do you go to vent all that hatred?"

Allen realized that this conversation would lead to something he didn't like. But even so, he answered anyway.

"Because I've found something that makes me happy."

"Something that makes you happy? Huh, don't tell me it's cooking?"

"That's right, I like cooking. I feel happy when people eat my cooking with satisfaction; that is all I need."

"Then how do you feel when you see people who won't enjoy your food? People like me?"

"It feels painful."

"Ha! I know it! Now are you going to hate me because of that? That's good."

"I can't do that; something must be wrong with my cooking that doesn't suit your taste."

"That's not true; I really like your cooking. It tastes good, didn't I tell you?"

"But why didn't you finish it?"

"I was full."

"My master once told me the characteristics of a hungry person; I know you are still hungry. This room is the result of your hunger; you are angry and stressed because you are hungry."

"What do you know about me? I've always been like this, taking out my hatred on the things around me, whether my stomach is full or not."

"I'm sure that's not true. If you were really full, I'm sure you would think more clearly!"

"HAHA! Alright I admit, I'm still hungry. I'm so hungry that I don't have enough energy to destroy this house!

Do you know why I don't want to eat your food?

Because of the warmth I feel when I eat, it really calms me down. What a great soup, filled with a disgusting sense of love. I can feel your hard work, and I remember your smiling face while you were cooking. That's why I hate it.

The soup you made made me suddenly feel the warmth of love!

And if I ate it all, I could sense the hatred I felt, and the hatred I had accumulated over the past ten years would disappear!

It's as if the soup you made denies my existence and what makes me who I am!"

Allen looked at Margareth like a shattered mirror. It was a perfect form of hatred. It was how he looked back then, before he was able to meet so many good people. She will always try to reject the kindness of others.

'Master, Susan, Felicia, what should I do? I really want to save her.'

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