Treatise Of A Failed Knight-Chapter 260: You Ugly Man

"You don’t understand..."

Tyrrion’s expression suddenly softens, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic urgency beneath its usual gruffness. "You don’t know what it’s like."

I keep my grip tight on Enrydral’s neck, though I turn my attention fully to the deformed dwarf.

There’s something in his expression—a vulnerability I’ve never seen before.

"Enlighten me, then."

Tyrrion takes a step closer, his misshapen body moving with surprising dignity despite its grotesque appearance.

"Do you know what it’s like to be brilliant and have no one see it? To create wonders that could change the world, only to have people recoil at the sight of you before you can even speak?" His voice cracks slightly. "I was born like this. Deformed. Ugly. My own mother couldn’t look at me without flinching."

I remain silent, allowing him to continue.

"The Imperial Court only tolerated me because my inventions were useful. They would take my designs, my innovations, my genius—and then keep me hidden away like a shameful secret. ’Send the dwarf back to his workshop,’ they’d say. ’We don’t need him at the presentation.’"

His hands clench into fists.

"For decades, I created marvels. I revolutionized architecture, engineering, transportation. And for decades, I watched lesser men take credit while I remained in the shadows. Not because I lacked talent. But because I lacked a face people could bear to look at."

Tyrrion’s gaze shifts to Enrydral, who hangs limply in my grip, and something softens in his expression.

"Then he came. Enrydral. A young noble assigned to my workshop as punishment for some minor court intrigue. I expected the same disgust, the same barely-concealed revulsion I’d seen in everyone else."

The dwarf’s voice takes on an almost reverent quality.

"But he looked at me differently. He sat through my lectures without flinching. He asked questions—intelligent questions—about my work. He was the first person in decades who seemed to see past this..." He gestures at his misshapen form. "...and recognize what was inside."

"Tyrrion..." I begin, but he cuts me off.

"He became my voice! My representative to the world that couldn’t stomach looking at me directly. Yes, he presented my work as his own sometimes, but I allowed it. Do you think I didn’t know? But it doesn’t even matter! Because through him, my ideas finally reached people. Through him, the world finally paid attention to what I had created."

The dwarf’s eyes glisten with emotion.

"He gave me something I’d never had before—recognition. Not for me personally, perhaps, but for my work. And that was enough. That was more than enough. Because at least someone was willing to stand beside this hideous creature and say, ’Look at what we’ve built.’"

I feel Enrydral stirring in my grasp, but I keep my attention on Tyrrion.

"He’s made mistakes. I know that. He’s done terrible things. I understand that too." Tyrrion’s voice grows firmer. "But he’s also the only person who ever gave me a chance to be more than just a monster locked in a workshop. So yes, he’s a traitor. Yes, he’s a fraud. But he’s MY disciple. And I won’t abandon him."

The conviction in Tyrrion’s voice is absolute.

"If you kill him, you kill the only reason I have to continue this project. Because without him, I’m just building monuments to a genius that no one will ever acknowledge. With him, at least there’s hope that—"

"ENOUGH!"

The scream tears from Enrydral’s throat with such venom that even I’m momentarily shocked.

His body thrashes in my grip with sudden, violent energy. His face contorts into something ugly—not physically, but evident regardless.

The mask of charm and eloquence shatters completely.

"You disgusting, deformed FOOL!" Enrydral spits, his voice raw with pure hatred. "You actually believe that drivel? You actually think I SAW something in you?"

Tyrrion stumbles back as if physically struck.

"I tolerated you because I needed your designs! I endured your hideous presence because your genius was the only path to my glory! Do you think I enjoyed those hours in your workshop, surrounded by your grotesque form? Do you think I felt ANYTHING but revulsion every time I had to stand near you?"

"Enrydral, stop—" Tyrrion’s voice is barely a whisper.

"NO! You want to save me? You want to protect me? From what? From finally achieving what I’ve always wanted—to be FREE of you and your shadow!" Enrydral’s beautiful face transforms into something monstrous through sheer malice. "Every accolade I received using your work was POISONED by the knowledge that it came from YOU! Every time someone praised my brilliance, I had to hide the fact that it originated from a MONSTER!"

I feel his body changing in my grip.

Something is wrong.

"I wish I had killed you years ago! I wish I had smothered you in your sleep the first chance I got! Because no matter how much I take from you, no matter how much I present your work as mine, people will always eventually discover the truth—that the UGLY DWARF was the real genius!"

Tyrrion’s face crumbles, decades of hope and companionship dissolving in an instant.

"You don’t mean that..."

"I MEAN EVERY WORD, YOU UGLY MAN!" Enrydral’s voice rises to a shriek. "I hate you! I HATE YOU! I hate your talent, I hate your mind, I hate the fact that despite your revolting appearance, you possess something I never will—TRUE GENIUS! And I will kill you for that! I will end your miserable existence so that finally, FINALLY, I can stand alone without your shadow consuming everything I am!"

His body begins to pulse in my grip.

The flesh beneath my fingers shifts, hardens, transforms.

"What—?" 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Suddenly, impossible strength surges through Enrydral’s frame. He tears free from my grasp with a wet, tearing sound.

His skin ripples and bulges, bones cracking and reforming.

He lunges toward Tyrrion, his fingers elongating into claws.

I react on instinct.

’Tracing!’

I hurriedly shift through the Layers of Existence and materialize between them. My hand grasps Tyrrion’s shoulder, and before Enrydral’s claws can reach us, I leap away in a hurry.

WHOOSH!

Turning into a blur, we charge outside the building, stumbling onto the street.

I release Tyrrion, who collapses to his knees, still reeling from both the sudden brush with death and Enrydral’s words.

He appears shattered—almost broken by the sudden revelation.

But this is also relieving, since I no longer have to persuade him.

Now, he understands.

RUMBLE!

Behind us, the building shudders.

"ARGHHHHH!!!" An inhuman roar splits the air—a sound that belongs to no human throat.

BOOOOM!!!

The wall explodes outward in a shower of stone and timber. And through the dust and debris, something emerges.

It’s Enrydral.

Rather... what Enrydral has become.

His body has transformed into something between man and Magivore—a grotesque fusion of human features and monstrous characteristics.

His skin has turned a deep, mottled grey, stretched tight over muscles that bulge and twist unnaturally. Jagged bone spikes protrude from his spine, his shoulders, his forearms.

His beautiful face has elongated, the jaw extending into something almost canine, filled with too many teeth.

His eyes—once so charming and eloquent—now burn with feral madness.

’This...’ My eyes widen instantly upon witnessing this unexpected sight. ’This is Magivore Beast Fusion!’

It reminds me of Dreyfus, the deceased member of the Sixfold Helm of Darkness.

He, too, had done something similar.

He became a Hybrid Monster.

"You," he snarls, his voice distorted and layered with inhuman harmonics. "You dare take him from me? You dare prevent me from claiming what should have always been mine?"

I position myself protectively in front of Tyrrion, who stares at his former disciple in horror.

"Enrydral... what have you done to yourself?"

"I EVOLVED!" The creature that was Enrydral throws back his head and roars, the sound reverberating through the streets. "I transcended the limitations of my pathetic human form! I became something GREATER! Something that doesn’t need the validation of genius or the recognition of fools!"

His clawed hands flex, each finger ending in razor-sharp talons.

"And now, finally, I can end this. I can kill the source of my torment. I can erase the shadow that has haunted every achievement, every victory, every moment of glory!"

He takes a step forward, the ground cracking beneath his transformed weight.

"Give him to me," Enrydral growls, fixing his burning gaze on me. "Hand over that disgusting dwarf, or I will tear through you to reach him. I will paint these streets with your blood. I will make you suffer for every moment you’ve delayed my liberation!"

Another step.

Closer.

I narrow my gaze and feel the weight of his presence on me.

"GIVE ME TYRRION!"

The roar echoes through the vast field, causing windows to shatter and birds to flee from their perches.

It’s a good thing I already had everyone evacuate—just in case there was a trap.

We are the only ones present.

I am not afraid.

In fact, I am determined to fight and win.

Because I am certain that this is the final hurdle necessary to finally put an end to this torturous Trial Scenario.

Behind me, I can feel Tyrrion trembling. Not from fear of death, I realize, but from the complete destruction of the only meaningful relationship he’d ever had.

The mutated Enrydral crouches, muscles coiling like springs, preparing to pounce.

His voice drops to a deadly whisper that somehow carries more menace than his screams.

"Last chance, Knight. Hand him over... or die with him."