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“I’ll pour you a drink, Duke.”
“Uh, okay.”
Carlton chuckled and poured alcohol into Luisen’s glass. Seeing Carlton so well-mannered, Luisen realized what great change he had brought about today.
After being sick, dying, coming to the past, and almost dying again several times…he had corrected many regrets in life. Even the scary Carlton was acting somewhat obediently, wasn’t he? The sense of accomplishment, that he had done it all despite his lack of strength, made Luisen feel flattered.
As the saint said, Carlton was neither a ghost nor a monster. He was a person, albeit an extraordinary common person. But he, too, could not be free of societal norms. He poured alcohol with the same intensity as he had when killing others…To be very honest, Luisen found it slightly amusing.
‘I guess Carlton wasn’t such a big deal.’
As soon as that thought entered Luisen’s mind, Carlton’s face immediately hardened and all traces of laughter disappeared. Like a volcanic eruption, anger burst in his eyes. Carlton’s hands were faster than Luisen’s brain–before he could process the change, Carlton grabbed him by the collar and threw him onto the table.
Wham!
The dishes scattered with a crash as the table broke in two. The impact on Luisen’s body was enormous–for enough force was used to break sturdy furniture. Luisen whined at the sudden pain. He couldn’t figure out what happened or why his back was aching.
Carlton poured alcohol on Luisen’s hair with an expressionless face.
“Ugh, what are you doing? What is this? You know who I am.”
""
“You’re the Duke of Anies, a prolific great lord.”
“You know that, so why….”
“So what?”
The bright lights of the chandelier above left dark shadows over Carlton’s face. His eyes, devoid of friendliness, were filled with intense hatred and murderous intent.
“Whenever I see people like you, I want to tear off their limbs. People like you who were born aristocrats, ignoring and underestimating me while living off the fat of the common folk. I became a mercenary because I wanted to punish you all.”
These were the words of the famous mercenary that made a name for himself in the civil war. The rumor must have been true: the first prince brought Carlton under his command after seeing him break a noble’s head on the battlefield.
Luisen had no desire to properly confirm the depths of Carlton’s hatred for the nobles. In fact, if Carlton had fully decided to kill him, Luisen would be helpless. No one would be able to save the duke.
The servants holding platters had made themselves scarce, and Carlton’s men stood still, looking at their leader. Luisen imagined that the moment Carlton gave his orders, the men would, laughing, draw their swords and repeat the massacres of the past.
“Still, this is a waste of my merits, so I’ll try to be patient, hmm?” Carlton’s hands gripped at Luisen’s neck. His hands were rough and firm, strong enough to easily twist Luisen’s thin neck. In his grasp, Luisen’s heartbeat thumped loudly.
The noble butcher!
His opponent was Carlton. The black knight who would someday come to reap his soul, from whom Luisen had fled in both dreams and real life.
Luisen’s body trembled. Memories of old horrors began to flood in; old fears returned like a beloved stalker. He became, at once, that same foolish lord again–the one who abandoned his estate and became a fugitive.
‘I’m scared. Help me. He’s finally here to kill me! Saint, please, save me from this mercenary.’ Luisen prayed deep within his heart, but the saint did not answer.
“It would be better for you, Duke, to maintain your fear of me,” Carlton told Luisen in an almost ticklish, polite tone.
‘Answer…you have to answer.’ Luisen moved his stiff head. Once, twice…countless nods.
Only then did Carlton let Luisen go. He returned to smiling and polite courtesy, as if this incident had never happened.
Carlton had never threatened Luisen since. However, the memory of the banquet conjured up the deep fear that Luisen had forgotten since he’d met the saint. Now, without his savior to help calm him down, Luisen was left to face the consuming fear alone.
‘What a scary fellow. Instead of being a mercenary, maybe he should be a fortune teller?’
Luisen had thought about ignoring Carlton for a tiny bit as he handed him some alcohol. Perhaps he had grasped Luisen’s mood through some minute changes in his expression. That foolish thought only passed within seconds, but, unbelievably, he recognized that short sliver of condescension.
Even if a brief moment of tactlessness became apparent, wouldn’t most people usually let that slight go? Carlton really didn’t hesitate to stick Luisen on that table.
*****
‘Crazy bastard. Really, he should have given me some notice before throwing me around.’
So, Luisen became even more scared since he had no idea when that smiling facade would change. He had started to lower his eyes in front of Carlton.
Breathing deeply, Luisen asked Carlton, carefully, “What’s the matter?”
“There’s an armory somewhere in a warehouse to the north. However, I haven’t the slightest idea of where it could be from this map alone. Do you know where it is?”
“……”
Luisen wouldn’t know about something like a warehouse. Weren’t servants supposed to manage that?
“If there’s anything useful there, I’d like to take it with me. I’d like for you to go around and find some information.”
“….If we’re talking about some warehouses up to the north, there’s at least five….”
“Yes, I guess you have to be diligent. I’m still lacking, so I must bother you with this work.”
“I still have a backache from carrying food provisions from the southern warehouses yesterday….”
“That’s what I mean! If only your retainers were more robust, the duke wouldn’t need to suffer this much.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Luisen laughed awkwardly.
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
Luisen and Carlton both knew that the retainers in the duke’s household were all feigning illnesses. With that knowledge, bringing up these retainers was like blackmail. If Luisen didn’t listen obediently, he would no longer turn a blind eye to the retainers’s trickery. So, when called, Luisen had to put down his food and run to Carlton’s side.
The advisors went on strike to express their dissatisfaction with Luisen’s actions. They had told him to do whatever he wanted–lo and behold, they truly did lock themselves in their rooms and refused to do anything.
Luisen had lost the war, so there was a lot of work to do. First of all, one of the biggest issues was that Calrton’s company must be given food and weapons as war reparations.
Luisen had gone to the retainers’ rooms to persuade them. He wasn’t allowed to even step foot in the rooms and could only pound on their doors in vain. ‘Carlton will kill us all, aren’t you scared? Save me!’ Luisen begged and threatened…but they would not budge.
No one, from the general to the mere administrative official, resumed their work. So Luisen had no choice but to nod and comply whenever Carlton purposefully threw more work his way. Luisen had to take care of his people.
“Well…where should I find the key?”
“They say the general has it. Maybe so, maybe not. I wouldn’t know,” replied Carlton.
So he needed to find the key first. Hah…Luisen stood up, weakly, and left the room at a far more sluggish pace than when he first entered.
****
Sweat covered Luisen’s soles in his efforts to find the key.
Beyond the huge building that made up the main castle, the household owned many other buildings on the property. Low walls surrounded the castle outskirts, and beyond that, past the hills, was the city commonly referred to as “downtown.”
Even the scale of the castle outskirts was enormous. The large expanse of flat lands had allowed the buildings to be naturally low in height–thus the outskirts sprawled across a large portion of land. First Luisen went to the various storage buildings and later discovered the room where the keys were kept separately. Luisen had learned, for the first time, that such a room even existed.
However, the key to the northern warehouses was not present. After searching for a long time, he managed to uncover a record that noted that the general had borrowed the key. A sigh of despair bubbled out from Luisen.
“Ha…”
Even though Luisen was born and raised in this castle, everything seemed so new. If someone had told him to check the record hanging next to the door, he wouldn’t have had to overturn the entire room.
Of course, now he needed to overturn the feelings of his advisors.
Carlton never asked Luisen to do anything particularly important or difficult. Why did he have to look for a key in the warehouse, anyway? Carlton could have broken the door if he really urgently needed to get inside. His excuses of not wanting to touch Luisen’s property thoughtlessly was just another way of forcing Luisen to accept work.
The real problem would be after Carlton leaves. After harvest season, winter was soon to follow. Though the south was much warmer than the other regions, winter was still quite severe. Even if the region were to prepare thoroughly, the season was still difficult to endure.
‘I have to leave for the capital for the coronation of the first prince in the middle of winter…so I have to restore order to the territory before then.’
Luisen now knew that his power came from the health of the territory, and he was now resolved to protect it well.
‘I have to do well if I’m going to one day invite the saint to my estate. I can’t be so pathetic anymore.’
Luisen’s saint–the nameless one-armed pilgrim.
Luisen had another long-term goal; he wanted to find the saint and invite him to the territory and repay all the grace and kindness he had received.
Luisen’s heart ached when he recalled how, after being saved from misery and the streets, he had nothing to give to the pilgrim. Now, he could repay him with more than the sincerity from the bottom of his heart.
The day after he surrendered, Luisen had attempted to garner information on how to track a person’s whereabouts. However, he couldn’t get far after Carlton had locked down the castle.
‘Let’s cheer up! The sooner Carlton leaves, the faster I can find the saint.’