I’ll Be The Warrior’s Mother-Chapter 117

“Our dear Martin, did you get your cuteness from your mom or dad?” Their true feelings.

“Grow strong and healthy. There are many things I want to give you.” That was also their true feelings.

“I love you, Martin. I’m so happy you were born.” …True feelings.

It was strange.

They said the same things to Kaywhin, but only meant it when they said them to Martin.

The young Kaywhin observed himself and his younger brother closely and found something else.

A stark difference became apparent right away.

Martin’s growth was slow.

The rate at which he learned to talk and stand was frustratingly slow in comparison to Kaywhin.

After learning of that, Kaywhin pretended to be lacking for a while. He was able to speak fluently, but he deliberately spoke awkwardly. He was able to walk nimbly, but he would walk a few steps and then fall down.

However, doing so didn’t change the way his parents treated him and his brother.

“Martin, our treasure.” As always, that was their true sentiment.

“Kaywhin, my beloved son.” That was a lie.

Around that time, Kaywhin found another difference between himself and his brother: none other than the dark patches that filled his face.

Kaywhin studied the patches on his face in the mirror. His brother didn’t have those patches.

But no matter what Kaywhin tried, he couldn’t get rid of them.

Even when he washed his face three times every morning, the patches stayed the same.

He tried roughly scratching at his face, but all he got were scratches. The patches remained.

The scratches healed quickly and didn’t leave scars.

In the end, the child gradually gave up on trying to receive ‘real’ love from his parents.

His brother was simply born different. Kaywhin realized at a young age that there was nothing he could do to change that.

But that was okay.

After all, fake love was still love.

When Kaywhin was alone with his parents, they treated him as if he was a discomfort and pushed him away. But around other people, they smiled and spoke kindly to him.

That was all he needed.

Kaywhin learned how to compromise early on and was content with what he could get.

But when Kaywhin turned five…

“Have you heard about those patches?”

“Won’t something happen to us if we go close to him?”

“They say he’s cursed. Ugh… how ominous.”

A claim that the patches on Kaywhin’s face weren’t just any patches; they were traces of the devil’s curse began circulating.

The person who made this claim cited an ancient text as proof.

Supported by such evidence, the claim spread easily to the public. It shook up the people around Kaywhin.

“Ugh!”

“Wife.”

“Do you know what people say whenever I show up to a gathering? They ask why the devil cursed my child, of all people! They yammer on about how I must have done something wrong!”

“Calm down, wife. You can just ignore what that one group of people have to say.”

“Ignore? One group? Ha, that’s easy for you to say because you don’t attend social gatherings.”

“Well then, what do you want me to do about it? Is it my fault that they say such things? It’s true that you gave birth to such a child in the first place. Is there really nothing that comes to mind?”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

That day, Kaywhin’s mother looked exhausted after coming back from an outing.

The ever careful Kaywhin clung to his mother’s skirt as his parents began raising their voices.

“Don’t get angry, Mommy…”

His mother would always smile whenever his younger brother did that, even if she was about to get angry.

Kaywhin knew he was different from his brother, but he thought that maybe this would be effective.

“You…”

Kaywhin’s mother stopped arguing like he had hoped for and stared at him. Then, her expression changed.

“Indeed. It’s all because of those patches. I just have to get rid of them.”

“…Mother?”

“Everything will be resolved if I just get rid of them.”

That day, Kaywhin’s mother attempted to burn his face. Kaywhin severely burned his shoulder while dodging the flame.

Kaywhin ached.

Kaywhin fell to the ground, unable to overcome the agony.

“Mother, Mother! Please save me! Aaagh!”

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