/
There was a high chance that Ruger had returned to the duchy, acted like a faithful servant, and spread false information. If that weren’t the case, why would Carlton be accused of kidnapping Luisen?
“…I apologize. You came to help me, but were repaid with accusations. Your men needlessly suffered as well.” Luisen felt heavy with guilt–if he had simply returned to the castle without insisting on travelling forth to the capital, Carlton would at least not be framed for his kidnapping.
“No, this is actually better. Looking at this situation, I’m certain that returning to the duchy would be the same as walking into his hands.”
“Still…”
“It’s better to be accused of kidnapping my lord than for you to have actually been kidnapped. At the very least, your safety is assured.” Carlton coughed, a little shy. “My men…they are not weak. If my duke arrives at the capital, safe and sound, their charges will naturally be cleared.”
“That’s right. I’ll never forget all that you and your men have suffered. When we reach the capital, I’ll make sure to see that you’re paid several times over for these troubles,” Luisen firmly declared.
Carlton chuckled as he looked at the young lord, who had resolutely clenched his fist. Hardships change people–the person would not be the same before and after. 1 This especially applies to the aristocracy. Carlton did not believe in promises made by nobles, but he was convinced that Luisen would surely keep today’s promise.
“Though perhaps this conversation should be shelved until we reach the capital.”
“Ah, that’s right…” Luisen sighed weakly. “Your men have all scattered…You’ve become a kidnapper…Ruger is still looking for me with all his might… He’s even host to some unidentified power and has the support of some unknown comrades…”
The two were in an abysmal situation.
The rescuing party was taken away as criminals; Carlton became a wanted man. These simple accusations were likely to be undone if Luisen came forward and proclaimed he wasn’t kidnapped, but Ruger wasn’t likely to give them this opportunity. Perhaps he’d stage another monster attack.
Burdened by these criminal charges, it wasn’t easy for the two to go to the capital. All Luisen and Carlton had to their name were their bodies and a donkey.
That was perhaps enough to cross the mountains for a few days, but the road to the capital was long and difficult. If they were to follow the main road, they had to cross the river with a boat and cross through various fiefdoms. Of course, the two needed artifices to prove their identities while travelling.
The two needed to hide their true identities, though, to avoid Ruger’s notice and to avoid Carlton’s capture as a kidnapper.
“We’ll have to hide our identities…if we hide our faces, others will think we’re dubious individuals…We have no money either…” How had Luisen travelled to the North all by himself in the previous timeline? He had just run like crazy–as if he were being chased. Now that he thought about it, Luisen felt something was suspect.
‘Come to think of it, that’s strange. How was I, alone, able to go so far–when I had no energy nor strength?’
At that time, Luisen had been suffering from the delusion that someone was chasing him, but now that he was thinking objectively, no one had been looking for him. No matter how his estate and territory were ruined–even if all the retainers had died… No matter how ridiculed Luisen was…Even if he was a shame to all nobility, someone would probably have searched for him, either to profit off his perceived wealth or his status as a great lord.
‘Am I just remembering wrong? Was I too harried to observe what was happening around me? Or, did that have anything to do with Ruger’s gang?’ Luisen inadvertently grabbed his head. It felt very disturbing and depressing to doubt his own experiences.
Just as Luisen was about to spiral again, Carlton spoke out and cut off the young lord’s string of thought, “Let’s disguise ourselves.”
“What disguise?”
“If you disguise yourself as a pilgrim, you won’t be suspected even if you were to cover your face.”
“Of course–all pilgrims cover their faces and hide their names.”
Pilgrims didn’t settle down in one place and wandered around the kingdom, deeply contemplating upon the teachings of God. In this era, it was one of the few jobs in which people could wander around from place to place with no set destination. Since it was common for them to hide their faces and their name, as Carlton said, a pilgrim was a perfect disguise for those that wanted to shroud their true identities.
However, someone could not become a pilgrim just by wearing a hood and claiming to be one. A pilgrim carried several necessities: a bible, a holy item, and a pass issued by the Church. In particular, the pass was what guaranteed one’s status as a pilgrim; one could be recognized as a pilgrim if they had a pass, even if they didn’t have the other items.
“We don’t have a pass. That’s something that can’t be forged–the Church engraves its signature into such things,” Luisen said.
“That’s alright.” Carlton suddenly untied his trousers.
“What are you doing?!” Luisen shouted as he shut his eyes tight–the young lord had even covered the donkey’s eyes.
Carlton chuckled and laughed mischievously, “It’s nothing that my lord hasn’t seen before, why are you making such a fuss? In fact, you’ve done more than just seeing ‘it.'”
He referred to the time Luisen had knelt down in front of the mercenary and attempted to take off his trousers. Luisen’s ears burned bright red, “Back then…I only untied your drawstrings. Technically, I didn’t take off your pants.”
“Yes, yes. And, this time also, I won’t take them off. I’m merely untying the strings.”
Luisen peeked through narrowed, half-closed eyes; Carlton really didn’t take off his pants. The mercenary reached inside and tore off a bag that had been sewn inside the pant cloth. He then re-tied the strings again. There was a round piece of copper within that bag.
“Just what is that for you to hide it inside your pants?”
“This is a pilgrim’s pass.”
“What? That?” Luisen furrowed his brows as he observed the metal fragment–it looked nothing like a pass. “I’ve seen a pilgrim’s pass once before. It was far more delicate and beautiful than this. Also, it was made of silver. We can’t scam anyone with such a clumsy fake.”
“This truly is authentic. I gilded its surface to dissuade robbers. If we take this to a blacksmith, he’ll know what to do.”
“It really is a pilgrim’s pass, then? Why do you have this?”
“I found it on a dead pilgrim’s corpse. I saved it for instances where accidents happen and I’ll need to escape quickly–I’ve been holding onto it like a life-saving elixir.” Carlton continued to say that this was incredibly *incredibly* precious.
Luisen was astonished at the mercenary’s meticulousness. The rumor–one that had been a common conspiracy theory before the young lord’s regression–that Carlton had not been executed but, instead, had escaped had suddenly risen in plausibility. “But, we only have one pass, don’t we?”
“I’m planning to disguise myself as a mercenary. Pilgrims from wealthy families often hire mercenaries as a guide.”
“Mmhm, that’s right. As a mercenary and pilgrim, we may stand out, but at least we won’t be taken away for being too suspicious. As for pilgrims, religious folk will occasionally provide them with food, a place to sleep, and sometimes money… We won’t have to worry about travel expenses.”
“Do you think you can pretend to be a pilgrim?”
“That’s easy enough.” As Luisen followed the one-armed pilgrim around, he had watched his movements and actions closely. He knew intimately how pilgrims behaved when talking about faith and dealing with believers. It wouldn’t even be hard to imitate him.
Carlton’s plan was very feasible; Luisen immediately agreed.
“Let’s return to the castle’s city. After stopping by the mercenary’s guild and blacksmith’s shop, we’ll finally have our identities. Let’s stay underneath a decent roof for the first time in a long while,” Carlton said.
“Ah, wait. But we’ll need immediate spending money.” Since the mercenary had taken out his hidden ace, Luisen couldn’t sit still. Luisen took off his hood and brushed his hair to one side. “Cut it.”
“Your hair?”
“Yes. Long, golden hair sells for a large amount. I haven’t cut mine for that reason–just in case.”
Before regression, when Luisen ran out of money and was left to suck on his fingers in hunger, someone had approached him and suggested he sell his hair. At that moment, Luisen found out that hair could be used as currency. Since then, he had often cut and sold his hair. Although, after some time, his nutrition had deteriorated enough that he couldn’t grow enough hair to sell.
Because of such memories, even after waking in the new timeline, the young lord had grown his hair without trimming it. Even if Ruger had suggested a small trim, Luisen adamantly refused.
“Did you expect to find yourself in this sort of situation?” Carlton asked.
“How could I? I’m someone who loathes throwing out small pieces of bread–it’s a waste to trim my hair.”
An aristocrat who refused to cut his hair because he couldn’t afford one loaf of bread–that man was the owner of a land where fields of wheat flowed out past the horizon. Carlton was simultaneously dumbfounded and saddened. How was it that a noble like him learned how to sell his hair?
“Now, hurry,” Luisen urged.
Carlton took out his dagger and carefully grasped Luisen’s hair with his opposite hand. Luisen’s hair was rich in color and shiny–like real gold. The texture beneath the mercenary’s fingertips was surprisingly soft…yet smooth and taut as well.
Anyone would be jealous and want to covet this hair. In addition, it suited Luisen so incredibly well. The young lord had a beautiful jawline and delicate, elegant features; he looked like a lovely, gilded statue.
Carlton couldn’t help but rub the golden strands.
TL: For a mercenary, Carlton sure waxes poetic on how hot he finds Luisen.
Also, thank you so much, Kate, for the Ko-fi! This bonus chap is dedicated to you!
Sadly, I’ll probably have to slow down next week (thesis writing + I’m currently sick T_T) As always, I have my schedule on Discord so ya’ll can grab updates from me.
Footnotes
The original is actually an idiom: a person before going to the bathroom and after going to the bathroom is not the same. Hilarious, but this doesn’t flow as well in English!