The Guilty Shall Be Punished
As they exited the castle gates and crossed the drawbridge, a four-wheeled carriage waited ahead, flanked by a small baggage wagon. Two knights on horseback stood guard—clearly a prisoner transport.
"This way, my lord." The coachman bowed low, flashing yellowed teeth.
I tore my gaze from the baggage wagon and followed him into the carriage.
"……."
As expected. The Elf had already claimed a seat inside. Irritation flickered through me, but I sat beside her without a word.
"Let's go." I tapped the floor with my toe. A crack of the whip rang out, followed by the steady clop of hooves.
I pulled out a book out of habit, but the Elf's eyes never left me.
Does she want something from me...? No. Better not engage—ignore her completely. That's the play for now. If I stonewall long enough, we'll reach the mansion...
Ziiing— Her unwavering stare was unnerving. Sweat beaded on my hand holding the book. How long are you planning to gawk, Elf?
Ziiiiing— At this point, she was practically begging for attention. Ignoring her further might invite trouble, so I closed the book and turned to her with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Something to say?"
"Ah... th-that is..." Bizarre, how she'd been drilling holes in me moments ago, yet now she played innocent. She hemmed and hawed, drooping her pointed ears as she gazed up at me with wide, guileless eyes.
"I-I saw a new ring on Master's left hand..."
"Curious about this? It's..." My mouth froze before "engagement ring" could escape. Spill the truth, and life at the mansion would turn to hellfire. Whether possessiveness or conquest, this Elf hated me getting close to other women. Declaring "This is my fiancée's ring!" in her face might as well be "Kill me please!"
Gulp. Crossroads of life and death. Truth meant misery; lies stung my faith and conscience. But for survival, the Light God would forgive this squirm.
"...I bought it recently. For decoration."
"Hee." Suspicion sharpened her red eyes like a blade.
"For decoration, on your left ring finger—a diamond ring. I see. It felt like you'd matched rings with someone to vow eternal love. Hmm. Must be my mistake."
Left ring finger. Diamond ring. Someone. Her pointed clues killed any excuse. Admit it now, though, and I'd stack insolence atop the lie. Risky, but time to brazen it out.
"Filth. What business of yours is your master's business? Spinning wild fantasies—disgusting."
I tsked, glaring coldly. Only then did she drop her gaze, ears trembling.
"S-Sorry... M-My wits are pig-stupid, so I didn't know asking Master was wrong..."
"Hmph. Now you do. I'm tired—shut that lowly mouth while I rest."
"Y-Yes... oink..."
She pouted, lips sealed. Quick thinking paid off. If the ring slipped later, it might spark fury—but coordinating with Esilly ahead could avert disaster. Probably.
"We've arrived, my lord!" The coachman's bellow snapped my eyes open. Blinking through drowsiness, I realized I'd dozed off unwittingly. The Elf slumbered too, slumped against the seatback, head lolled to the wall.
Exhausted, huh. No wonder—I'd made her redo that painting from scratch last night. Even an archmage couldn't shrug off fatigue.
I considered waking her but held off. Her sleeping suited me fine. Finger to lips, I silenced the coachman and stepped out.
Stiff and groggy, I advanced a few paces before Habid the steward and Baynen Brokena approached.
"Our acting regent has endured much hardship, my lord."
"Safe return, young master."
I nodded acknowledgment, fixing on Baynen.
"Any trouble at the estate?"
"Eh? No idea. Ask the steward."
"I mean what you did this past week."
"Me? Just guarded the family as your sworn knight. Nothing eventful."
"Slacking off, then."
Caught with a conscience, Baynen coughed awkwardly.
"Young master, your words have thorns today?"
"Not at all. Merely grateful to the Light God that our sole sworn knight lives so carefree."
"Tch. If you'd given orders, I'd have bent to them—but you left for the count's castle without a word. Unfair."
"So you'd follow orders diligently?"
"Aye. I swear on my knighthood."
Hook, line, and sinker, Baynen. I grinned, pointing to the baggage wagon.
"Then heed this order: Drag that prisoner out and take him to sector 21 on Skygarden Street. Flower shop there—owner's Hariya. Ask how to punish the criminal."
"Wait, I'm a sworn knight, not an errand boy."
"Hmm? You just swore on your knighthood to obey."
His brows twitched, face twisting like a trapped beast. Unfazed, I pressed.
"A traditionalist like you won't break his oath, right?"
Scoffing challengingly, I watched him bark a hollow laugh.
"You're getting sharper by the day, young master."
"I'll take that as praise."
With a resigned sigh, Baynen trudged to the wagon.
"Out, you criminal scum!" He didn't forget to vent.
Baynen Brokena followed Theorad's orders to the flower shop in sector 21 of Skygarden Street. A widow raising her three-year-old son alone greeted him brightly—until she spotted prisoner Mernan. She shrieked in horror, recognizing her husband's killer.
Baynen explained, and once calmed, she begged him to make Mernan suffer her husband's exact agonies—as cruelly as possible. She offered savings from her shop in thanks to Theorad, but Baynen refused. He knew his lord would hate it.
"H-Hey!"
Thus, a simple execution unfolded in a forest clearing. Baynen looped rope over a sturdy branch and yanked it taut.
His impassive eyes met Mernan's.
"What? Last words?"
"Y-Yeah! Spare me—I'll reveal my hidden fortune!"
"Oh? Where?"
"Spare me first. Promise!"
"Can't. Why trust you?"
Baynen secured the rope to a ground stake.
"Kek!"
The noose yanked tight around Mernan's neck—but not fatally. On tiptoes, he could breathe. Bound limbs left him helpless. Panic rasped from him.
"Th-Then... tell you first, spare me?"
"Naturally. I swear on my knighthood."
"G-Good. Black Wheat Tavern basement—brick that doesn't match. Press the one three left, five down. Secret room opens—my treasure's there! Real!"
Quite specific. Seemed legit. Baynen stroked his scruffy beard, nodding casually.
"I'll put your gold to good use. But can't spare you. Swore loyalty to young master—even the emperor couldn't sway me if he said no."
Baynen still recalled Theorad's father, prior Viscount Welian Deharm.
And his dying charge:
Baynen. Take good care of my son. He's kind-hearted—might get caught in court intrigues. I'll pay you handsomely for it.
He'd refused every coin. Just following his lord's final order. The man who'd knighted a mere mercenary and given him purpose deserved that much.
Of course, Mernan couldn't know.
"Wh-What?! You swore on your knighthood!"
"Did. But breaking knighthood is my knighthood."
Absurd! Mernan gaped; Baynen scratched his head, backing away.
"Pity's sake: Don't tiptoe—hang proper. Wolves prowl at dusk. Better than being eaten alive, eh?"
"You dog liar...!"
"Not words I wanna hear from a killer of innocents. Anyway, do your best. Got your gold—I'll pray for your soul."
Grinning, Baynen mounted, nudging his horse's flank. It lifted from grazing, ambling off lazily.
"You heaven-cursed bastard! Who made you a knight...!"
The curses trailed beautifully. Whistling, Baynen flipped the bird over his shoulder.