Chapter 301 The Right to Be Happy
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I was born missing part of the bone in my left arm. The rest was twisted, and doctors warned it might damage muscles and cause rot as I grew, so my parents decided to amputate it.
They apologized repeatedly, burdened by guilt, but I just stared, confused. My arm had been gone since birth. To me, it was normal—no memory of loss, no grief. So when adults apologized for something I never had, I didn’t know how to respond.
When I turned five, I finally got a name. In our clan, babies aren’t named at birth. Elders wait, observe the child, then choose a name that fits their character. Until then, we’re called Fa plus our parent’s name—father’s for boys, mother’s for girls.
At five, my parents named me Bearty, meaning ‘happiness.’ They said it was to bless my future since I was born with misfortune. Sweet, right? But as I grew, I hated that name.
I never felt unhappy. I’ll say it again: this is just how I am. I never lost anything, so why should people pity me?
Adults would say, ‘You’ve suffered enough. You’ve done well just to live, so don’t try anymore.’ Meanwhile, my siblings—born with all limbs—were sent on clan missions for the kingdom. Me? They told me to rest, like it was kindness.
It wasn’t kindness. It burned.
I didn’t hate happiness. Everyone wants it. But I didn’t want it handed to me like scraps. I wanted to earn it through my own strength.
I’m not an obedient dog. I’m a wolf. And I wanted the world to know it.
So I ran away from the village. Reality hit fast.
I’d heard how outsiders saw Lycus, but nothing prepared me. Being avoided or cursed was fine, but sometimes they threw rocks. I could feel the hate in the air.
Lycus thought we served the kingdom, doing its dirty work. But to citizens, we were monsters—’beasts who bare fangs even at the innocent.’
And they weren’t entirely wrong. Lycus weren’t just used against foreign enemies. Sometimes, we were unleashed on rebels within the kingdom.
Still, not everyone was cruel. Some didn’t hate Lycus. But those kind ones pitied my missing arm instead.
In the end, it was always fear or pity. Nothing else.
I was sick of both. So I slipped through forests and over mountains, chasing places where no one knew ‘Lycus.’
When I met my first monster, I was terrified. But my Lycus blood made me strong. I ended the fight quickly. Afterward, I felt fierce pride—proof I could fight, even with one arm.
Then my stomach roared like a beast.
It was the first time I’d pushed myself so hard, and my body gave out fast.
Thankfully, I remembered how to spark a fire with magic, learned from camp chores. I roasted the monster’s meat and ate until I stopped shaking. I didn’t know then that strange beasts would make me wish I hadn’t.
I kept heading west, hunting, eating, surviving. But soon, monsters I killed turned to smoke, vanishing before I could eat them. No smell, no blood—just replicas, not real flesh.
Without food, I was dying, my body empty. I gambled everything, forcing my legs to move, chasing life through the woods. I reached a place that smelled of people—but I couldn’t take another step.
I collapsed. When I woke, I was in a mansion, not the forest.
Later, I learned it belonged to a noble from the Empire’s frontier. The first thing was an interrogation—a black-haired woman firing questions like arrows. I answered honestly; what else could I do?
Questions dragged on for nearly an hour, repeating. Just as I was losing patience, a man walked in with a basket.
The smell hit me before he spoke. My stomach growled, breaking the tension. The woman’s sharp eyes softened, and she finally stopped.
Inside were sandwiches—fresh, warm, perfect. My eyes lit up, and I devoured them like I hadn’t eaten in years.
The man, Narsht, talked as I ate—cheerful, easygoing. The bread was from the local bakery, vegetables from the settlement. He wasn’t lying. The vegetables were crisp, bursting with flavor—better than my village’s.
I was still chewing, half-lost in bliss, when the door opened. The woman returned with a young man peeking in, unsure if he should be there.
Seeing his fine, embroidered clothes, I froze.
He was the noble of this house.
He introduced himself as Neil.
Like the woman, he asked the same questions again.
I thought it pointless—why not ask her?—but I wouldn’t talk back to a noble who’d saved me.
Still, he didn’t seem like the nobles I’d heard about. His voice wasn’t cold. His eyes weren’t cruel.
Maybe that’s why I almost said what I really thought.
’Um… are you sure it’s okay?’ I asked for the third time, unable to believe his offer.
He wanted me to work here.
Before he could answer, the woman—dressed like a fairy-tale witch—snorted.
’You’re really stubborn,’ she grinned. ‘Trying to refuse politely?’
’If there’s something wrong, tell me,’ Neil said gently.
”It’s not that! I’m not unhappy at all. You saved me—how could I complain after that?”
”Well, good. I just wanted to make sure.”
I smiled and nodded, but guilt twisted inside. I had complaints—small, silent ones I didn’t voice.
Neil-sama said he needed help, but it was an excuse. He was being kind, trying to make me feel useful. My clan did the same—covering pity with practical excuses. Maybe that’s why I sensed pity like a wolf smells blood.
But when they explained my situation—how staying without purpose could cause clan trouble—I couldn’t argue. I just nodded.
So I started working in Neil-sama’s mansion.
At first, I thought I’d just help, maybe clean or carry things. I was so wrong.
I was assigned to care for Tris and Pius.
Pius was quiet, almost silent, but obedient. Tris was different. Her body and mind weren’t in sync. She could act like a child throwing tantrums, and it took everything to calm her.
People tried to help—kind people—but I refused. If caregiving was too much, what was I good for? I couldn’t let anyone see me fail.
Tris wasn’t like clan children, who managed with one arm. No matter how hard I tried, she was too much. I didn’t want to admit how weak I was.
So I pushed harder, driving myself into a corner.
I’d left my clan, believing I could do things alone. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was just a pet—a dog waiting for mercy.
That thought tore through me as someone knocked.
”Bearty, it’s Stella.”
”Stella-san? Oh—yes, what is it?”
The door opened, and Stella-san poked her head inside.
”Neil-sama’s calling for you. He’s waiting in the office. Go on—I’ll look after the two here.”
”Neil-sama? Understood.”
I hadn’t seen him since he rescued me. What did he want? Maybe he’d found a way to send me off. If so, it’d be a relief—a clean break.
’Haah… I’m nervous,’ I whispered, steadying my breath.
Three days since I asked Mei about Bearty’s prosthetic. The finished arm sat in a wooden box, its smooth grain under my fingertips as I waited.
”Relax,” Diana muttered from across the room. “You’re not meeting some noble. Worst case, she ends up hating you, and that’s it.”
”I’d rather she didn’t hate me, you know,” I sighed.
”Then stop meddling so much,” Sia said flatly. “Honestly…”
Their teasing didn’t help my nerves, but it did help the silence. I was grateful, even if I didn’t say it.
Then came the knock.
Knock, knock.
”Um… Bearty here.”
”Come in.”
”Excuse me…”
The door opened slowly. Bearty stepped in, hesitant, her posture stiff, like she was ready to bolt at any moment.
”Sorry for calling you out of nowhere,” I said. “I just wanted to talk. Please, have a seat.”
”O-okay.”
She sat, fidgeting, eyes darting between me and the box. I started with small talk.
”So… how’s life here? Getting used to it?”
”To be honest… not really. Everything’s so different from the village I grew up in. I keep getting confused.”
’This isn’t a normal imperial lifestyle either,’ I smiled.
Bearty was an illegal Lycus immigrant. She couldn’t be seen in public without panic. It wasn’t her fault, but she was confined. For someone from a small clan, it must’ve been hard.
It wasn’t easy for us either. We’d never dealt with a Lycus. The first bath clogged the drains with fur. The plumber nearly quit.
’I don’t know how long you’ll stay,’ I said softly, ‘but if anything bothers you, tell me. Don’t hesitate.’
”‘So, I’m a burden?’”
”Eh? Wait, no—that’s not what I meant!”
”I know. I can’t even do the simple jobs I was given. I’m half a person at best—and worse, a walking nuisance.”
”What’s gotten into you? Why are you talking like that?”
Maybe I’d chosen the wrong words. Still, something about her tone was off—way darker than before.
’These past days, I realized I’ve been lying,’ she whispered. ‘I thought I left my clan because they wouldn’t let me do anything, but I was wrong. I just wanted to believe I could.’
”You’re thinking too hard,” I said. “Everyone messes up their first time. You’ll get there. So—”
”Stop it!” she snapped. “Don’t pity me! Don’t try to comfort me like I’m some fragile thing. It just makes me feel pathetic!”
Damn it. She’d shut down. Three days ago, she was fiery. Now she was raw, hurting. My words wouldn’t reach her.
As I struggled, Sia spoke up.
”So,” she said coolly, “you’re admitting it then? That you really are what your clan said you were—a useless girl who can’t do a damn thing alone?”
”…”
”Sia-san! You don’t have to say it like that!”
”Be quiet, Neil-sama. I’m talking to her.” She turned back to Bearty. “Well? You just said it yourself. So what now? What do you plan to do?”
”What I plan to…?”
”If you admit you can’t survive without your clan, then what’s stopping you from crawling back to them? It’d make things easier for everyone if you just left, wouldn’t it?”
”Go back to them? Give up everything…? That’s…”
Bearty’s voice trembled. She looked lost, torn.
’See?’ Sia pressed. ‘You know your answer. You pretend to accept it, but you haven’t. You’re pretending to be wise.’
”…”
Thanks to Sia, I finally understood.
Bearty knew she couldn’t do everything. Her mind accepted it, but her heart refused.
I understood. Logic in your head doesn’t matter if your heart doesn’t agree. It’s just pain. No argument fixes it until the will comes from within.
She struggled against herself—like I once did.
Since I’d walked that road, I knew what to do.
”Bearty, can I ask you something?”
”Yes?”
”There was always the option of a prosthetic arm, right? Why didn’t you ever take it?”
”…Because using one would’ve felt like admitting I’m incomplete. Like saying there’s a part of me missing.”
”I see. Then what about now? Your heart might not be ready, but your mind understands the truth. Could you accept one now?”
”Why would you ask that—”
Her words froze as she saw the wooden box on my desk.
It was long and narrow—just the size for an arm. She realized instantly.
”So that’s why you called me here today,” she said, her voice tight. “Because you think I look pitiful like this? Because the sight of me struggling with one arm is that unbearable to you?”
”Hold on! You’ve got it all wrong,” I said quickly. “I didn’t make this because I pity you. If that were the case, I’d have made something far fancier to make myself feel better.”
”Something… better?”
”It’s easier if you just look,” I said, exhaling. “But just so you know, there’s no insult meant here. None.”
”Huh? O-okay…”
She tilted her head, confused, as I lifted the lid of the box and pushed it toward her.
Inside was a metal arm—shining faintly. Bearty stared, suspicious, then her eyes widened.
”…A gauntlet?”
She wasn’t wrong. The arm looked hollow, the shape thin like armor rather than flesh. At first glance, it was just a gauntlet—something made to cover an arm, not replace one.
If I’d given this to anyone else, they might’ve taken it as mockery. But Bearty didn’t get angry. She just looked… lost.
”Neil-sama, even if you give me this, I don’t have a left arm to wear it on.”
”I know. It looks like a gauntlet, but it’s not. It is a prosthetic.”
”A prosthetic? This?”
From the outside, it seemed empty—no gears, no joints, no machinery of any kind. But when I placed my hand over it, the metal twitched. Then, stiffly, it began to move, the fingers bending inside the box.
”W-what the—?”
”It’s made of a metal called Melanihite. The mechanism’s simple: it moves through magic power. My control’s clumsy since I’m not used to manipulating magic like this, but with practice, it should move just like a real arm.”
”…Why would you make something like this for me?”
”At first, I planned to get you a normal prosthetic—high-performance, easy to use, something that mimics the real thing perfectly. But then I realized that’s not what you needed. You didn’t want something that made life easier. You wanted something that reflected your own effort. That’s why I made this one instead.”
”My effort…?”
”Yeah. Like I showed you—just flowing magic into it won’t make it move naturally. To control it like a real arm, you’ll have to train hard, again and again. Remember what you told me? ‘If I just wanted an easy life, I wouldn’t have left my clan.’ You wanted to fight for your happiness, didn’t you?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the air between us froze. Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet mine, stunned.
”I’ll say it again,” I told her. “I didn’t make this because I pity you. I made it because I want to support the effort you choose to make. If you can face your missing arm—not as a curse but as part of who you are—and still want to move forward, then please, take it.”
Bearty’s eyes dropped to the box again, to the silent metal arm resting inside. Her shoulders trembled slightly. Then, in a small voice—
”Why aren’t you trying to send me away? That woman said it herself—it would be easier for everyone if I left.”
”She’s not wrong,” I admitted. “Given the illegal entry, and the risk from the Theocracy’s followers, the simplest solution would be for you to leave this settlement.”
”Then why—”
”Because that wouldn’t solve what’s actually bothering me most.”
”What… bothers you most?”
She lifted her face, eyes searching mine for the answer.
And I gave it to her plainly.
”Your wish still hasn’t come true, has it? If I let you leave like this, it’ll stick in my mind forever.”
”You’d ignore something as serious as that—for me? Just for that?”
”Yeah,” I said simply. “Because if I don’t, my heart won’t rest easy. Same as yours right now.”
She just stared at me, mouth half open, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
I smiled, softening my tone so she’d know this wasn’t an order.
”So if you’re willing, Bearty—if you really want to—stay a little longer. Try again. Not for me, but for yourself.”
”…Are you really sure?”
”My, you’re persistent,” Sia said dryly before I could answer. “If Neil-sama could be swayed that easily, he wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble or made that arm in the first place.”
”She’s right,” Diana added. “Neil-sama’s the kind of man who won’t stop until you say yes. He’ll just keep trying until you give in.”
”Hey! That makes me sound like I’m forcing her!” I protested. “I’m not—I’m just respecting her choice while also… well—”
”If that’s true,” Diana interrupted sweetly, “then maybe next time, you can respect my choice when Lewya drags me out of my room without warning.”
”T-that’s… situational! I only trusted that you’d forgive a little intrusion because you’re, uh… kind?”
”Pfft—”
Bearty burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. And just like that, the tension broke. She reached forward, carefully lifting the metal arm from the box with her right hand.
”Do you really think I can do this?”
”I don’t know,” I said honestly. “That’s up to you. I can’t promise success—but I can promise that if you give up, you’ll never make it. So I want you to try. Don’t be afraid.”
”…This is the first time anyone’s ever said something like that to me.”
Then she hugged the arm tightly to her chest—like it was something precious, something alive.
”I’ll do it,” she said, eyes shining. “I’ll work hard. I swear I will.”
That smile—bright, raw, and so full of life—was the first I’d ever seen from her. In that instant, it felt like a flower had bloomed right here in the frontier settlement.
Bearty’s name comes from the Latin word beatitudo, meaning “happiness.” It was twisted slightly to sound more human—and to carry the meaning of happiness that’s been lost.
Whether she can fill that missing piece again… depends on her effort.
Notes:
• Bearty – Gray-haired Lycus girl from a remote settlement, ran away from overprotective family, appears after collapsing from exhaustion, becomes the girl Neil protects and mentors.
• Tris – Golarf’s daughter. The one who can’t control her azure origin.
• Stella – Female. A young woman from a village in the territory of Count Cordis. Her appearance is that of a young girl with a fixed smile, reflecting her traumatic experiences. She was renamed Remia by the brothel owner in Malm. Her relationship with others is marked by survival and adaptation, as she endures sexual exploitation and bullying. Her inner thoughts reveal a deep sense of despair and disconnection from her original identity.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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