The Scent of Ruin

Change always has a way of coming on suddenly. It was true when we fled Leheim Castle, and it was just as true when the carriage arrived at our cabin without warning.

It must have been around the time Hena was preparing dinner. It had been an otherwise unremarkable day. I was playing chess with Sirien.

It was a game with a predetermined outcome. Not because I was letting her win—on the contrary, I was trying my absolute hardest. It was just that, no matter how much effort I put in, I had never once managed to beat her.

To be honest, it bruised my pride. At first, I thought I actually stood a chance, but as my own skills improved, I realized she had been going easy on me all along. Yet, the wicked girl refused to ever actually let me win.

In the end, Sirien declared checkmate once again. I tipped my king over.

"I lose. Ah, seriously, let me win just once. Go easy on me, will you?"

"No. If you win, Razen, I feel like you'll never play with me again. Beat me with actual skill."

"..."

How did she know? It seemed my chance to smugly tell her, 'Wow, you're terrible at chess,' was still a long way off.

Our rule was that the loser had to pack up the pieces. As a slave to my own competitive drive, I was grumpily gathering the chessmen when hurried footsteps echoed down from the second floor.

Having lived with the siblings for so long, I could identify them by their footsteps alone. It was Therion.

"A carriage! The carriage is here!"

"Really?"

The moment Therion shouted, Sirien sprang to her feet. Hena stopped cooking to wipe her hands on her apron, and my head snapped toward the door as well. It was only natural that we rushed out to greet it.

Sure enough, a carriage was visible through the trees. It was a familiar sight—the same old wagon we had ridden here. The very one that smelled musty and kicked up clouds of dust.

It had looked like a piece of junk at first, but seeing it now, I felt a strange wave of nostalgia. The only difference was that, unlike before, the canvas cover had been removed, leaving the passengers completely exposed.

The driver was different from last time, and there were several men wearing deep hoods. There were six of them in total, including the driver. Because of the distance, I couldn't make out their faces clearly.

Having bolted out before me, Therion was already quite a bit ahead. The men on the carriage waited quietly for him to approach.

Something's wrong.

A strange sense of unease washed over me. I paused, placing a hand on Sirien's shoulder, and spoke in a low voice.

"Sirien. Go back inside the cabin with Hena."

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do as I say for now. I'll come get you."

In moments like this, Sirien trusted me. She didn't ask questions and simply did as she was told. Leaving her behind, I quickened my pace. I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to catch up to Therion.

This world was plagued by constant conflict. There was a deep-seated hatred between demons and humans, and even among humans, disputes were endless—just as they had been between Sirien and the novel's original protagonist.

Thus, it was fair to call this the age of knights. A single powerful individual possessed enough strength to turn the tide of an entire war. Every noble was desperate to recruit exceptional knights.

Yet, not all nobles marched off to war. Times of conflict were naturally shorter than times of peace. While the battlefield was where knights shone brightest, their most common duty was escort missions.

Therefore, to become a knight, one had to learn how to protect others. This was doubly true for me, born as the son of Count Bertus, the 'Sword of Illencia'. And that was precisely why I could be absolutely certain of one thing:

At the very least, those bastards are not knights.

The absolute foundation of an escort is vigilance. No matter how skilled you are with a blade, a stab in the back will still kill you. If you fail to keep a proper eye on your surroundings, everyone's life is forfeit.

Yet those men on the carriage looked as though they were casually chatting, completely devoid of any vigilance. They didn't even bother to dismount as Therion drew near. It meant they lacked even basic etiquette.

No matter how I looked at it, this was not a crew sent to safely escort the siblings back to the castle. The only one who showed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a modicum of decency was the man who appeared to be their leader. Dismounting from the carriage, he began walking toward Therion.

By then, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had caught up to Therion. The man's gaze swept over the two ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of us.

"Are you Young Grand Duke Therion?"

"Yes. Did my uncle send you?"

"Indeed. And the one beside you must be Young Count Razen. It is an honor to meet you. My name is Rudbeck. I have been ordered to escort you."

Therion let down his guard. It was because the man knew our names. Count Roxen had told us this was a safe house. Since the information about our hiding spot would have been strictly confidential, these people had to have been sent by Count Roxen.

Furthermore, this man, Rudbeck, didn't just know our names.

"I was told there are four of you in total. Is the young lady inside?"

"Hmm? I thought she came out with us. She must have forgotten something."

"Is that so? Then we shall go bring her out. Hanson, Trang. Go and politely escort the young lady. Do not do anything disrespectful."

"Yes, Boss."

Rudbeck even knew of Sirien and Hena's existence. At his gesture, two of his subordinates headed toward the cabin. I felt a slight pang of unease, but I didn't have a solid reason to stop them. After all, it seemed certain they were sent by Count Roxen.

There had to be a reason he hadn't sent the family's knights or private soldiers. Perhaps they were reputable mercenaries whose names I simply didn't know.

But as the two men brushed past me, a familiar scent wafted through the air. I had to make a decision.

"Gah...?"

I drew my sword. And slashed. I finished one of them in a single stroke. I could see Therion's bewildered expression, but there was no time to explain.

Crimson blood splattered across my cheek. The heat of human blood felt shockingly warm. Out of the corner of my eye, a body collapsed to the ground.

Thump. Thump. My heart hammered wildly. This was my first time killing a man. My hands trembled slightly.

It was fine. It wasn't enough to hinder my swordplay. If anything, the illusion of adrenaline rushing through my veins was welcome. My senses were heightened, which would only help in battle.

It had taken years of training before my first kill. But it felt like the second would take only a matter of seconds.

One more, while I still have momentum...!

Just as I was about to strike down the other off-guard assassin, a cold metallic clang rang out. It was Rudbeck. A heavy iron sword lunged toward me.

Having apparently decided to drop his polite act, the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.

"Quick-witted brat, aren't you? And here I worked so hard on my acting. How did you know?"

"No matter how much you dress up your words, bastards like you always stand out. You reek of rot."

"Ha. Is that so? Arrogant little shit. But don't get ahead of yourself. It didn't actually matter to us whether you noticed or not."

I'm sure it didn't. There were simply too many red flags. Not once did they look outward to scan the perimeter. They showed zero concern for potential wild beasts or undetected pursuers.

Their eyes were fixed entirely on Therion and me. I particularly despised the way they stared at my sword. The way they glanced at the calluses on my palms, as if sizing up my strength, rubbed me the wrong way. It was the look of someone sizing up an enemy they intended to slaughter.

But the deciding factor was the smell. A foul stench clung to the subordinates who had brushed past me. It was a scent I had encountered before—the odor that occasionally wafted off the criminals captured by the senior knights of the order. A body odor mixed with cheap booze and narcotics.

Men who smelled like this were, without exception, scum. In the novel, the female protagonist had shuddered in disgust at it.

There was absolutely no way such men would ever be hired to protect the siblings. Unless, of course, their purpose was the exact opposite.

"If you had just come along quietly, you wouldn't have had to die in agony."

"I doubt that. Traveling with filthy, stinking bastards like you would be torture enough. A half-washed rag smells sweeter than you lot."

"You have a foul mouth for a noble's son."

I exchanged several blows with Rudbeck. Fortunately, he wasn't a master, but I was by no means at an advantage.

This is dangerous. Reason sounded an alarm in my head. To be honest, I couldn't guarantee a victory. He was a tough opponent even in a one-on-one, and he had subordinates. I couldn't recklessly press forward because they kept trying to slip into my blind spots.

It was a winnable fight, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be incredibly tricky. And getting bogged down here was the last thing I could afford.

Then again, if this was Count Roxen's doing, it was only natural that it would be difficult. I had held my own against the knights of Illencia. Count Roxen surely had some inkling of my capabilities, so he wouldn't have sent complete amateurs. He would have included at least one competent killer. I could only hope Rudbeck was the only one.

Nearby, Therion was also busy trading blows with the other assassins. Once again, I had to make a decision.

"Therion! I'll clear a path for you. Go protect Sirien and Hena. I'll handle things here."

"What? But what about you... No, can you really handle this?"

"Easily."

Just as promised, I fought desperately to carve out an opening and sent Therion on his way, pushing myself to sever one of the assassins' arms. Two of them had slipped past earlier, and the remaining two now surrounded me. In exchange for letting Therion escape, I took cuts to my left shoulder and thigh. They were bleeding, but thankfully, the wounds weren't deep.

Rudbeck sneered.

"You know what? My employer told me to erase you all from this world."

"Try it if you can."

"But you see, the contract didn't say we had to kill you gently. Which means as long as we clean up the mess afterward, we can do whatever we want. I hear the young lady is quite a beauty. Aren't you excited to hear her scream?"

"Your mouth reeks of garbage. I'll make sure to clean it out for you."

I had intended to fight calmly. But that was no longer an option. My mind turned ice-cold.