A Genius Boy Who Was Exiled From His Family Home for “Not Being Able To Use Magic” Becomes a Witch’s Apprentice and Masters All Magic in the Right Way. This Is How You Use Your Magic, You Know?

Chapter 129.2. Retribution

Unending agony that he could never get used to. To numb the pain, he cursed the world. Unable to bear the endless despair, he kept screaming.

(I was only trying to change this country! I know reformers aren’t often accepted, but come on, there’s a limit! Is this country full of idiots?!)

As he continued spewing his grievances, he caught sight between the slashes of swords. The boy who still tormented him—and behind him, the girl.

…That girl was beautiful. Overflowing with pure magic, a radiant halo surrounded her—she looked like an angel. Even though she had already become the target of his rage, she was still so breathtakingly beautiful it stirred his heart. And the fact that she stood behind Hermes…

(Why? She was supposed to be mine. She would’ve shone the brightest if I guided her! To think she’s fallen for this man—this is wrong, wrong! This country is completely insane…!!)

Seeing this, a dark jealousy and hatred surged towards Hermes. The fact that he was now being judged so ruthlessly by this very object of his hatred only made the emotions darker, as if confirming his own inadequacy.

…But now, it was all too much. His senses dulled to the overwhelming pain, and he relaxed.

(…Ah. I’m done.)

His expression was one of resignation. But it wasn’t because he accepted his guilt.

(There are hardly any monsters left. I’m going to die, right? Fine, this country was too corrupt for me to change anyway. Oh, how pitiful I am, suffering like this just for trying to do the right thing. If only I’d been born in a better place…!)

Without an ounce of remorse, he simply cursed everyone else until the end. He accepted death… in other words, he was running away from reality. Finally, with no more monsters to regenerate from, his magic began to drain Clyde’s life force. Soon, that cursed sword would slice through him—and he welcomed it with bitterness. He defined himself as a tragic hero. Immersed in self-pity, he prepared to meet his end.

“──Excuse me.”

It was at that moment. Just as he had run out of monsters, Hermes deactivated his flaming sword. He reached out casually—and grabbed the head of the black monster enveloping Clyde.

(!?)

“The Holy Maiden here doesn’t wish for your death.”

Sara’s mercy. Hearing those words, Clyde felt a sliver of hope— —but Hermes narrowed his eyes and continued.

“That’s why… you’ll be living to atone.”

(!!)

The cruelty of those words hit Clyde, his eyes widening.

“‘O life that should not be, O unchained heart, gather in the hall of calamity, the flag of the feast is here!’”

As the chant pulled him into further despair—

“Spell Reenactment—[Einherjar]”

Having perfectly analyzed the magic, Hermes activated it. And Clyde felt it being stripped away.

(Ah, ah…! Stop, stop it…!)

The black monster that had clung to him. The monster that had given him overwhelming power. Hermes, having perfectly replicated the spell and far surpassing Clyde’s ability, wrested control and peeled it off, leaving only ‘Clyde’ intact.

“Stop! If you take that from me, I’ll, I’ll…!”

“…You really are just like the prince in all the worst ways.”

The words, spoken by a now nearly fully human Clyde, made Hermes grimace in disgust.

And as his thoughts cleared, Clyde realized once more. The meaning of surviving here. The meaning of having ‘survived’.

He had committed atrocities beyond measure, and caused irreparable damage—and as long as he lived, he had to atone for his colossal sins.

“Stop, please, stop…!”

“…”

There was no reply, only the continuation of the spell. Death wouldn’t be allowed as a means of escape. No quick death, no victory in death. He had to live and atone. And that, for Clyde, was the greatest punishment—a punishment so severe that death would have been a mercy.

With a sickening snap, the monster was completely stripped from Clyde. All that remained was a frail, emaciated boy—alive. Alive and nothing more.

“A-ah…”

Clyde stared blankly at the ground, as Hermes and Sara looked down at him, each with a different expression.

Having turned the entire world against him, having cast away any fame he had once earned, having lost every ally he had gained—having even lost the magic that defined his very identity. After enduring a lifetime of hellish suffering, what was left on his shoulders was an enormous, unbearable weight—too heavy for a boy who now had nothing left, a burden he could never repay.

Stripped of everything. Wracked by pain. And cursed with sin. He had been given power beyond what he deserved, more than anyone could handle. He mistook it all as his own. And that… was his downfall.