The control over the withering "Decay" belonged entirely to the wielder of the Art, Netsalem. Looking at the collapsed Yujin, the Master withdrew his Art, transformed its essence, and funneled it back into Yujin's body.
Healing through the very power stolen by Decay.
Using the signature Art of the Nachzehrer, Netsalem intended to restore the boy, only to realize that Yujin's internal Arts were already circulating and mending his body from within.
The platinum light—the one that had tried to seize control of the Decay, rather than just clashing with it.
Though the attempt at control hadn't been a complete success, Netsalem had been about to step in to help the exhausted boy, but paused.
"…Truly an enigma."
Even while unconscious, the platinum Arts were operating autonomously to repair Yujin's frame.
"Does he keep his Arts active even while walking normally?"
Netsalem let out a hollow laugh immediately after the thought. It was absurd even to him. If that were the case, Yujin would have already withered away from Oripathy long ago. Using Arts consumes physical and mental energy; it requires intense focus. That was the absolute law of the world. A Caster who uses fire cannot breathe flames all day without consequence. Physical reinforcement types had it slightly easier, but this was on another level.
Then again, Netsalem himself was someone who effectively used Arts all day. What was raising and commanding the undead if not a perpetual use of Arts?
"Hmm…"
Unable to reach a definitive conclusion, Netsalem snapped his fingers, signaling an undead construct to move Yujin to his bed.
The skeleton, which had been performing another nonsensical 'bone dance,' stood up, threw Yujin over its shoulder, and vanished into the hallways. It would be enough to let him recover before resuming the ordeal. If Yujin found even a sliver of a path forward, Netsalem would be there to guide him.
The undead construct, which had been dragging the unconscious Yujin along like a sack of luggage, was suddenly obliterated by Theresia's power.
Being nothing but bones, the servant had struggled to carry Yujin after leaving the library. Eventually, it had given up on carrying him properly and resorted to grabbing one of his ankles and dragging him across the floor.
It was attempting to pull him up the stairs when Theresia, who happened to be walking through the mansion, spotted it. In an instant, her Arts reduced the construct into a scattered pile of harmless bone fragments.
"Yujin! Yujin, wake up…!"
Theresia gently shook his face, trying to rouse him, but Yujin remained unresponsive. In this mansion, no one would dare touch Yujin without cause. Lacking any information on the training, Theresia's mind raced with worry.
She narrowed her eyes and was about to place her hand on his head to delve deeper with her Arts, when—
"…Stop. He wouldn't like it if you used that on him so recklessly."
Buldrokk appeared, stepping in to stay her hand.
"By the looks of it, it seems he underwent training with the Master."
With that, Buldrokk stepped forward and lifted Yujin with ease. He carried him to his room and placed him on the bed.
"Buldrokk, do you know why Yujin is like this?"
Looking into the narrowed, piercing eyes of the girl, Buldrokk let out a low hum. This fragile-looking girl became unusually sharp and terrifying whenever Yujin was involved. He knew if he tried to lie, she would sense it immediately.
"…I know. It seems he underwent the same trial I once did."
Adapting to the Decay while maintaining the foundation of one's Arts. And in that weakened state, facing an opponent and winning.
It sounded simple in theory, but as someone who had endured it, Buldrokk knew exactly how agonizing Netsalem's methods were.
"Just what kind of training leaves him in this state?" Theresia asked, clutching Yujin's hand.
"It is a trial to fight while adapted to the Master's Decay. It may be hard to grasp the reality of it through words alone, but even for me, it was a harrowing experience."
Buldrokk remembered the day he had effectively 'lost' the body he relied on. He had been reduced to a state weaker than the most average human. Every step was a struggle for breath; his muscle-bound frame felt like it had vanished, leaving nothing but brittle bones. He couldn't even lift his signature spear, and he had been beaten like a stray animal by a skeleton wielding a blunt rod.
If Yujin had gone through that same process...
"He likely didn't just feel 'average.' He probably couldn't even stand—he would have been crawling on the floor."
If a Wendigo's body was reduced to 'below average,' then Yujin, with his human-level baseline, would have felt an unimaginable pressure and sense of lethality.
Theresia bit her lip. Why did Yujin always choose the most difficult path for himself?
"Kalaisha took one look at this training, called it madness, and fled," Buldrokk said with a grimace. "As for me, I eventually adapted and managed to stand."
Buldrokk spoke with a touch of bitter irony. It wasn't that he had found a way through his own ingenuity; rather, his Wendigo biology had simply adapted to Netsalem's presence and the Decay. It was a source of private shame for him. Without any effort on his part, his body had slowly reclaimed its strength. First, he was able to swing his spear with two hands, and eventually, the Decay had no effect on him at all—it was just a slight drain on his energy.
Of course, Buldrokk knew the Master hadn't been using his full power. When Buldrokk finally felt he had conquered the trial, Netsalem had waved a hand and summoned a legion of hundreds, forcing the Wendigo to his knees.
A legion of Decay—soldiers who had their lives stripped away, turned into tools of the Master's will. Undead veterans who could not find the peace of death. Netsalem called upon the remnants of a thousand wars.
Whenever you thought you had crossed a hurdle, there was always a higher wall.
"…I wonder what the Master is truly looking for."
Theresia looked back and forth between the weary Buldrokk and the unconscious Yujin. She had always thought of them both as giants—warriors who had already reached a certain peak. Was there still something missing in the Master's eyes?
She searched for an answer but found none.
"We are but individual men. He seeks the will to stand firm and unchanged amidst the world's torrential currents," Buldrokk said, looking at his spear and shield. They were massive, almost the size of Theresia herself.
"Those were the Master's words. He said a single human can change nothing. To change the world, one must transcend being a mere human and become a hero."
"And he's placing that expectation on you and Yujin?"
"I do not know. People whisper of 'Pureblood Wendigos' or the 'Lord of Fiends,' but I care little for such titles."
Buldrokk looked at his equipment.
"I… I only picked up this spear and shield to protect the people around me. I had no other reason."
He only wanted to protect those close to him. There was nothing more.
"That is why I can never reach the 'Hero' the Master envisions."
He knew better than anyone that he lacked a noble ideal or the grand ambition to save the suffering masses. He had long ago laid down that burden.
"…You are a good person, Buldrokk."
"Hah. I appreciate the sentiment, though it's just talk."
Hearing Buldrokk, Theresia finally understood Yujin's struggle. Yujin, who saved children from suffering and had taken her and Theresis under his wing. A man who claimed he wasn't "good," yet instinctively threw himself into the path of injustice. Even before meeting her, he had shared his last scrap of bread with hungry children.
To the children, and to Theresia, Yujin had always been the hero and the knight from the fairy tales.
However, Netsalem wasn't looking for a storybook hero. He was looking for a Hero of Kazdel—a hero for a land that knew only rot and hatred. Theresia instinctively felt there was a massive difference between the two.
"Sigh."
The more she thought, the deeper her worry grew. She realized that Yujin's inner torment likely stemmed from this very conflict. Yujin saw himself as a "dirty" product of the backalleys, someone with blood on his hands.
"Does Yujin... does he even dream of becoming a hero?"
"…Asking me won't give you the answer you seek."
"I know. I'm just venting my frustration."
"Then I think you would know the answer better than anyone else."
Theresia already knew. She was just looking for a second opinion because she was afraid. She knew Yujin would inevitably choose the path that forced him to carry everything on his own.
Theresia gripped Yujin's hand tighter.