Chapter 36

Portents

(This takes place before the traitor nobles' betrayal and revolt. This chapter also begins the divergence from all the annoying plot problems of the original manhwa. Next chapter will be the fight with Urokai. There will still be the time skip to the future and we will meet M-21, Tao, Takeo and the children. But only after the contract. I haven't decided on which route I plan to take in getting there because the lack of communication in the manhwa seems just as unrealistic as it is in books I've read, and just always screams lazy writing to me.)

'Big brother, it is my continued hope that my words to you will be heard so that you know I am always with you. The constant chatter of my human butler is always a pleasant reminder that I'm no longer alone. Frankenstein has gone to spar with the Loyard clan leader. It is a dangerous undertaking, but that is so for all his duels.

Ragar says that Frankenstein risks his life with each spar and I believe him. According to Ragar, it is in his nature to torment his opponents because of the pain Dark Spear inflicts on him. However, Gejutel is convinced that it is a battle strategy. Perhaps both are correct.

'You must know by now that I trust Frankenstein completely. He knows his limits and has yet to push his weapon too far. I cannot say that I trust anyone with him other than Ragar and Gejutel. They respect Frankenstein. Many other clan leaders do not. I worry when he is away.'

"Is that all you got, Loyard?" Frankenstein shouted and charged the white-haired clan leader, all the while grinning like a maniac.

Loyard had tied his waist-length hair at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon and yet strands still managed to fly into his face. Hopefully, it would help provide a distraction. It would certainly even the odds somewhat.

The clan leader was only a fraction taller than Frankenstein and less muscular. Height didn't seem to matter, though. Loyard's Death Scythe extended and grew in size and length at the will of the owner. It was damn fast, too. Maybe too fast, especially with Dark Spear bucking and straining more than usual.

The human soul weapon certainly didn't like the noble's Death Scythe. The inside of Frankenstein's skull felt as though deep gouges were raking through the bone. Its screams were louder and more scathing than usual and the acid covering his arms felt as though it was peeling strips of skin away from his arms and through the muscle.

'Be silent!' Frankenstein shouted as he dove forward, dodging Loyard's strikes.

'We curse you! It hurts, hurts!'

Taking deadly risks never meant Frankenstein wasn't experiencing fear. It was an enemy just as his opponents were, so he chased it to the cliff's edge of insanity. That twisted, cold ball in the pit of his stomach always pushed him nearly beyond his limits to destroy the threat. The potential of dying could be quite motivating.

Half naked and bleeding from several wounds, Frankenstein pivoted as he zigzagged to avoid the Death Scythe and threw Dark Spear at Loyard. He knew the clan leader could deflect it, but he was counting on that movement to give him an opening he needed to get inside the weapon's reach. Faster than he could have calculated, the scythe batted away Dark Spear and switched directions, sweeping down directly in front of him too quick for him to stop or to even slow his momentum.

And that's how Frankenstein found himself lying face down in a widening pool of his own blood, Dark Spear screeching its curses in his head. Wonderful. Way to show the nobles human strength. Pathetic.

A shadow loomed over him, blocking the bright afternoon sun. He managed to turn his face to the side and catch a breath.

"Good thing you made me take off my shirt," Frankenstein wheezed at Ragar's shadow, then coughed. Searing pain jolted straight up his abdomen. "Oh, not good. Gonna need long bandages for this one."

"Can you turn over?" Ragar asked.

"A minute." Frankenstein wriggled the arm trapped under his chest until he had it under his belly. "Need stitching, too."

"I'll return shortly." A breeze followed Loyard's rapid retreat.

"I warned you about the Loyard soul weapon. You were reckless," Gejutel accused. His boots crunched the rocks and dirt beneath his boots. "Cadis Etrama di Raizel will not be pleased."

"Dark Spear was giving me some trouble."

Ragar shook his head. "You are distracted. What is it?"

"Can we…" Frankenstein panted as he tried to ensure the wound stayed closed, "...have this discussion later?"

"You did not even bother requesting water for cleansing your wound," Gejutel pointed out.

"Right." Frankenstein clenched his teeth. He'd just have to ask for it when Loyard returned. Infection was something he seldom worried about, but he always followed proper procedure for a normal human when his injuries were this severe, which had never happened in a spar with nobles before now.

Ragar sighed and left the negligent human to his pain. Only Frankenstein knew that he hadn't been lying. Loyard had gotten enough hits in that the screaming voices in his head along with the burning chew over his skin had gotten close to overwhelming. Tonight would be a bad one. If only he could find a strong opiate on the island and knock himself out, he wouldn't have to worry about nightmares disturbing his Master.

'What have you done to us, Franken...STEIN!?' Dark Spear screamed. 'Pain, pain!'

'What have you been complaining about? We've always been in pain.'

'Nooo, nooo. It cuts, it cuts. Hurts!' his many lovers screamed and screeched.

Before Frankenstein could question what was happening to the souls in Dark Spear, Ragar returned with Loyard. When he tried to roll over, his guts nearly pushed themselves out of the wound. Finally relenting, he allowed the two clan leaders to do it for him. Loyard was ever stoic, but Frankenstein could see the worry in his red eyes. Learning to read Raizel had trained him well. He would need to reassure the clan leader at some point. Then again, maybe not.

"Ragar, help me keep this from gaping open and Loyard can pour the water."

Ragar squatted and placed both hands at Frankenstein's waist, pressing the skin together while Frankenstein focused on the upper portion of the cut. Through their recent training sessions with the other nobles, his regular sparring partner had enough experience to know what was needed. This was simply worse than usual.

"The water is scalding, Frankenstein," Loyard informed him.

"Good," Frankenstein said while he and Ragar did their best to keep the wound closed for the first cleaning.

Nothing happened. Loyard was hesitating and Frankenstein scowled at him.

"Boiling water is nothing compared to Dark Spear's loving embrace. It might as well be cold," Frankenstein informed him. "Pour it!"

"Do it," Gejutel added.

Loyard shrugged, held the ceramic pitcher aloft, and began to pour a thin stream down the center of the cut, gradually rinsing away the blood and dirt. On the second rinse, Frankenstein's skin turned red and puckered, something he barely noticed. Once his entire abdomen was clean, Loyard changed positions with Ragar, who had much more experience stitching wounds.

Even without numbing cream, the pain of getting sewn up couldn't compare to the constant screaming agony Dark Spear inflicted. It would have driven him mad years ago had he not been strong enough to adjust his physical sensory perceptions. Without that, Dark Spear would have been able to eat him the first time he'd used it to fight Gejutel and Ragar.

Some might see exceptional disadvantage in a significant loss of sensation, much like losing a limb, but Frankenstein knew it had only increased his accuracy and control. Each movement and motion had to be perfectly controlled. Otherwise, he would continuously break important things, things he himself had built, and hurt himself without realizing it.

Gauging the significance of wounds obtained during battle proved to be a problem as well. However, the drawbacks in battle were offset by using Dark Spear's voracious appetite as a baseline meter. He knew what was going on even before the effects of blood loss could negatively affect his body. It all worked out in the end. His strikes rarely missed their target and his delicate dishes never received the slightest chip or crack. That was a proud achievement, especially when Master would nearly faint at the slightest sign of inelegance.

After Ragar finished stitching him up, Loyard lifted Frankenstein into a sitting position so Ragar could do additional cleaning before wrapping him up good and tight with white bandages.

Frankenstein sighed and gently rubbed the bandaging. "Much better."

"Why don't you come inside and rest, Frankenstein," Loyard offered.

Frankenstein checked the position of the sun and shook his head. "I need to make preparations for my Master's dinner."

Loyard went a little pale and Frankenstein chuckled.

"Don't worry. Master is aware that I push sparring partners beyond the limits of propriety and it puts me in similar conditions on a regular basis."

"Cadis Etrama Di Raizel is indeed forgiving toward you, Frankenstein. I am not so certain he would feel the same about my part in inflicting such grievous injuries."

"Gejutel, tell him."

"The Noblesse will not hold this against you," Gejutel assured the Loyard clan leader. "He is aware that Frankenstein is still a child with a rebellious nature that gets him into trouble."

"Hey!" Frankenstein objected. "You're next, Gejutel! Help me up, Ragar."

Not only did Ragar come to his assistance, but Loyard as well. Between them, Frankenstein didn't need to put any stress on the wound and could easily stand. Walking, not so much. That was going to slow him down. Gejutel handed him his clothing.

"Thanks. I'll see you in two weeks, Loyard. Same time."

Loyard's eyes widened. "Don't you need more time to heal?"

"Hey, old man. If I asked you to spar with me in a week's time, do you think I'd be ready?" Frankenstein asked Gejutel with a devious smirk.

Gejutel huffed and scowled. "Definitely."

"Good, I'll see you in a week!"

"What? I didn't say I would!"

"Too late! One week, Gejutel. I'm holding you to it!"

"Children." Gejutel huffed and shook his head. "I have duties to attend now. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Loyard. May we meet again soon."

Loyard nodded once to Gejutel then to Ragar and Frankenstein.

"See you in two weeks then," Frankenstein said to Loyard before turning to Ragar. "I can walk on my own, Ragar."

"So you say."

They traveled in silence, Frankenstein doing his best to minimize the effect his injuries were having on his pace. Once far enough into the forest where there wouldn't be any observers, he stopped and slid down a tree trunk. Taking a deep breath, he rested on the ground and tipped his head back against the rough bark. The effort of the walk had him sweating and sore. After a few more pained breaths, he looked up at Ragar.

"This is a bit more difficult than I expected. It should be healing faster."

"The Death Scythe is not to be taken lightly."

Frankenstein nodded. He'd heard it before. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for another long, painful walk.

"You are not yourself today."

"Fine. Yes. You've already said that before. Dark Spear truly has been giving me more trouble today. But, I will tell you this. You are aware that the lord sent Sir Raizel on a mission a few weeks ago and I was not allowed to accompany him?"

Ragar nodded.

"Gejutel said he'd had to retrieve Master because he has no sense of direction and got lost, but I don't think that getting lost was responsible for his pasty complexion. His pallor is unhealthy and I have been unable to change that despite the special meals I've prepared. I can't get him to lie down for a short rest and no one will tell me anything that I could do to help him!"

Ragar blinked then stared up at the sky for so long that Frankenstein wasn't certain he would get any help.

'Why are these nobles so tight-lipped about Sir Raizel? And, why do so few even know anything about his existence?! They should tell me something! I'm the one who needs to take care of Master, damn it! Maybe it'll just take time and I'm impatient, but a noble's recovery shouldn't take this long!'

"Cadis Etrama di Raizel is the Noblesse."

"Yes! Now tell me something I don't know!"

Ragar's words had been quiet and Frankenstein could tell there wouldn't be any further information. The past few weeks had been an exercise in futility. Frustration flared his temper and blurred his focus during experiments and spars. In the silence of those surrounding Sir Raizel, he felt betrayed, not so much for himself, but for his Master.

"You will get stiff if you sit too long," Ragar commented, pulling Frankenstein from his thoughts.

"Help me up. I need to at least be able to take care of my Master."

Ragar did, then paused. "What I said is true. The Noblesse is unlike any other noble."

"I believe you," Frankenstein replied, but now he knew that Ragar's words had much more significance than he'd originally thought.

And that didn't help a damn bit because the human was treated like a mushroom, kept in the dark, and fed shit. Now he was getting angry at Ragar and he shouldn't, considering the lord's orders. Ragar was an obedient subject, so he couldn't fault the clan leader for not answering him.

At least he'd managed to get rid of a couple corrupt Central Order knights while his Master had been away. What a crappy consolation prize. That didn't help Sir Raizel at all!

Frankenstein's worries kept him preoccupied for the rest of the journey, though he had enough forethought to shove Ragar away before they came into range of Sir Raizel's window. He straightened himself and tried his best to appear uninjured. Master's knowledge of his injuries was one thing, seeing the effects of them another entirely. Master seemed to have a soft spot when it came to Frankenstein's pain. He could already imagine Sir Raizel's frown, maybe even a pout if he didn't allow his Master to heal him. He needed more time to stop the bleeding.

"Would you mind keeping Master occupied while I clean up and bring tea," Frankenstein asked.

Ragar gave a crisp nod. Once inside, the two split up. Disappointment flooded Frankenstein when he found his wound still bleeding. Master seemed to be more concerned when blood was present. The only theory he could come up with was that his Master could smell it.

After salve, padding, and more clean bandages, Frankenstein began making an appetizer to give him more time to prepare the main course. Despite deliberately slowing his movements, he could still feel blood seeping into the padding.

'How am I supposed to get near master in this condition?'

Frankenstein clenched his teeth and kept working. After the cart had been prepared, he hurriedly applied fresh bandaging, again. The pain of quick movements delighted Dark Spear and it was getting feisty again.

'You taste so good! We want more. Give yourself to us! You owe us for today!'

'Go away. I have things to do.'

'You worry so much for him. What about US! Why should you be any different! We curse you! We damn you to hell, Frankenstein! Join us! '

Frankenstein huffed and ignored his lover. It wasn't going to shut up any time soon and only reminded him of the suffering he would go through tonight. Pushing the cart aggravated the stitching and caused even more bleeding. There was little he could do about it now, but he was relieved to find Ragar had left the door open and wheeled the cart in without knocking.

"I have brought tea, Master, along with berries, cheese, and bread," Frankenstein informed his Master and guest.

What he didn't say was that there would be no cream until the evening's dessert. Master needed to eat well until his health improved. Ragar actually looked at him, but Master stared ahead, his demeanor vacant.

'He can't be that disappointed about the lack of cream.'

Sir Raizel stood and turned to stare at Frankenstein.

"Frankenstein."

'Oh, this definitely is not about sweets.'

Sir Raizel walked around him and out the door. Frankenstein obediently followed with increasing dread as they approached his bedroom, which was much too close to the sitting room for his comfort. The uneasiness increased when the door to his room was waved open and Sir Raizel stepped inside. This was unexpected. Sir Raizel had never entered his room. He followed, the knot in his belly tightening further.

Sir Raizel turned to face him and waved the door closed.

Frankenstein didn't leave the spot in front of the door. Of course, he wasn't afraid that his Master would harm him in any way. He just didn't like causing this kind of trouble. And, he hated that sad expression.

Sir Raizel stared at Frankenstein's abdomen then raised a hand, his eyes growing incandescent. Frankenstein gasped when his shirt, jacket, tie, and gloves tore away. The process was quick, but gentle. He nearly sighed in relief when all the bandages were left in place.

"Please remove the bandages." It was an order, albeit a polite order.

Frankenstein didn't bother with questions. This was embarrassing enough. He began slowly unwinding the bloodstained cloth, carefully pulling away the padding against the row of stitches. Now the bandages on his right hand were bloody as well. Sir Raizel stared at the mess and Frankenstein began to sweat. To take his Master's attention off his abdomen, he went about unwinding the bandages on his hand and arms.

One step, two, three. Master was too close for comfort and he swallowed down his nervousness. Sir Raizel's right arm lifted and his fingers almost touched the stitching, but withdrew at the last moment. Frankenstein glanced up and the skin around his Master's ruby eyes was tight, the corners of his lips drawn down.

"The Death Scythe…" Sir Raizel said then paused, staring at the stitching again, "can do more than cut flesh. Your soul is untouched, but I cannot abide this."

Before Frankenstein could react, Raizel's right palm and fingers were flat in front of the stitching, but still not touching his flesh. His skin prickled until power and blood encircled the area, swimming through the air. Ow, that stung, and not only his abdomen, but the raw flesh and the cuts on his hands and arms.

Dark Spear grew unusually quiet and still. And then...the pain simply disappeared. Raizel's hand pulled away, along with the power and Frankenstein had no wounds, no stitches, nothing to show that he'd been injured.

"Thank you, Master." Showing gratitude was the only thing he could do. What he felt like doing was begging for a good flogging for causing his sickly Master to do anything at all. He really should be more careful, but that wouldn't help him learn to control Dark Spear. He also hated to be beaten by nobles. Really hated it. But, not as much as inconveniencing a sick person, especially the one person in his care.

Today, he completely failed as a butler.

Sir Raizel nodded, stepped back and raised a hand. Frankenstein found himself clothed again. When he looked down at his clothing there was a pat on his shoulder. He snapped his eyes up to his Master just in time to receive two more pats and nearly fell back in surprise. He could swear that his Master had smiled without moving a muscle. Maybe Master was relieved that he hadn't protested?

They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Frankenstein realized that he was blocking the only egress. He didn't waste any time opening the door and standing aside.

As his Master passed by, he heard, "Biscuits, the crunchy biscuits."

Frankenstein's eyes widened and his heart palpitated in his chest. Butterflies tickled his belly. He turned and watched his Master casually walk away as though nothing had been said.

'An actual order for food! Not a stare, not a request, but an order!'

He grinned and didn't have a chance to wipe it off his face before Master turned to enter the sitting room. The Noblesse paused, turned his head to face Frankenstein, and a corner of his lip was lifted. The smirk was completely ruined by the pink blush on his cheeks. Frankenstein was only allowed a momentary glimpse before his Master disappeared, but it was enough.

'Did Master just get cheeky with me!? That was so...unbelievably adorable! Oh, biscuits! But first I'll need to freshen Master's tea! Another step toward developing who, not just what, he is! Yes!' Frankenstein mentally cheered.

Had it not been for Sir Raizel's little display, Frankenstein may have wallowed in self-recriminations for the rest of the day. Instead, he rushed to take care of his Master, the spring in his step causing his golden locks to dance.

'Perhaps Master is beginning to feel better. What a glorious day!'

Sorry for the awful delay. Health issues and household changes due to Covid-19 have interfered. I'm still trying to adjust. This chapter gave me a hard time. I still don't like the writing itself and feel it should have been split up, but I wanted to get something lengthy out to you because of your long wait. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with the story. Your presence and reviews are very encouraging, especially when I feel like total garbage!