The Dilapidated Cabin (1)
The novel Saintess, a Reverse Harem is Impure! was as blatant as its title suggested. It was a mass-produced romance fantasy novel drifting in some obscure corner of a web novel platform. The story employed the typical isekai reincarnation cliché—a miserable female protagonist dying a lonely death, only to open her eyes as a saintess in a medieval fantasy world.
Naturally, the reincarnated Saintess built herself a reverse harem, showered with confessions of love from all kinds of handsome men. Looking back now, it really was like a fairy tale. And I mean that in the worst way possible.
There was a villain who piled up corpses and blood as if born solely to commit evil. There was an almost flawlessly competent and kind imperial prince, and the female protagonist overcame her wounds to move forward. By the end of the novel, even the deep-seated war between humanity and demons had finally drawn to a close.
The villains either fell to the prince's sword or were executed after their crimes were laid bare for all to see. And the prince and the Saintess finally married, living happily ever after.
It was a foolishly flat story. A happy ending so sweet it could rot your teeth. If one had to choose a novel to live in, it wouldn't have been a half-bad choice. That is, if I weren't the very villain destined to fall in that final battle.
Me. Rajen Bertus. I was the villain who threatened the protagonists throughout the entire novel. I was also a murderer who claimed the most lives before my heart was ultimately pierced in the final showdown with the male leads. The same went for the siblings of the Ilencia Grand Ducal family, whom I had been with since we were infants.
The eldest, Therion, died of illness after studying abroad, and the second, Sirien, plunged the empire into ruin alongside me before being captured and executed.
Naturally, I had no intention of dying as I did in the novel. Nor could I let the siblings, who had always treated me like real family, perish. I wanted to secure a spot for myself in that foolishly sweet happy ending as well. Unfortunately, the moment I regained my memories was far too late. On the very day I remembered my past life, Eligos, the 15th Seat Demon King, invaded the Ilencia Grand Duchy.
It was a night shrouded in a hazy lunar halo. Every breath of cold, damp air felt as though it were soaking my lungs, and a thick fog clung to the deep darkness. Whenever the wind blew, the leaves rustled with a desolate sigh. Enveloped in the shadows of the night, it looked to my eyes like pitch-black shadows swaying in the dark.
On such a night, there were those traveling along a path where one could not see an inch ahead. It was a dilapidated carriage. The carriage rolled along the path like a ghost. Without even a common lantern hung, it was clear everyone was holding their breath.
It was a sudden journey. The bells warning of the attack rang out deafeningly, and the images of the grim-faced knights marching off to battle refused to leave my mind. The explosions of magic clashing against magic. The watchtower melting in the corners, dripping bright red lava. The soldier whose neck was pierced by a flying javelin. The territory that had overnight become a battlefield was not something easily forgotten.
The siblings inside the carriage also wore dark expressions. Even though they were barely past ten years old, they seemed to feel the gravity of the situation in their very bones. How long had the silence lasted? Finally, a familiar voice spoke.
"Uncle. Please tell us now. Where are we going?"
"I cannot tell you anything yet."
"What happened to Father?"
"I cannot tell you that either. It is for your own sake."
I wondered how many times they had asked that already. The eldest of the siblings, Therion, had a frustrated look on his face. His fine, noble face was heavily contorted. Given his usual sharp personality, he would have thrown a fit by now, but this time, his opponent was a difficult one. Count Roxen, the siblings' uncle, was the most trusted confidant of the Grand Duke of Ilencia, and that was no exaggeration.
If Count Roxen said he couldn't tell them for their own sake, then it was truly so. Thus, Therion could not press him any further.
"*Cough, cough!*"
"My Lady, are you alright?"
"Mm, I'm fine. It's just a bit dusty."
"Just wait a moment."
Perhaps the carriage wheel had caught on a rock; dust billowed inside every time the carriage jolted. I had thought it smelled of old wood, but it seemed it was actually just dust. The young lady of the Grand Ducal family was not accustomed to such harsh environments. Even though she was covered in cloths gathered from here and there, she huddled against the cold, letting out pitiful coughs whenever the dust flew.
The maid riding with us cast a pleading look in my direction. Fortunately, there was still some water left in the canteen.
"Drink some water first."
"I don't like that canteen, it smells like leather. And I don't want cold water either."
"Just bear with it and drink. It's not even that cold."
"Ugh..."
The young lady, Sirien, grumbled but accepted the water and drank. Once I wrapped a handkerchief around her nose and mouth, her coughing subsided a little. Things would have been much better if we could slow the carriage down, but given the circumstances, I couldn't possibly suggest that. If anything, I was grateful for the coachman's urgent cracking of the whip. We had to end this unwelcome journey as quickly as possible.
"It should feel a bit better now. It might be stuffy to breathe, but hang in there."
"Thank you. What about you, Rajen? I have a handkerchief too."
"I'm fine. The knights' armory is way dustier than this. Besides, I'm not even that thirsty."
It was a lie. I had been in the middle of training right before I was summoned here. I was both hungry and parched. But since we didn't know when we could refill the canteen, we had to conserve every drop. I couldn't bring myself to say that to the young girl.
Even a cursory glance revealed how terrible the situation was. The onslaught of the Demon King Eligos was exceptionally swift and sharp. As a result, the direct descendants of the Ilencia Grand Ducal family were fleeing, hidden in a cargo carriage with only a handful of guards. I, who had been told I would soon gain real combat experience, was not sent to the battlefield.
No matter how I interpret this, both possibilities are worst-case scenarios.
The first possibility was that the pursuing enemy was so threatening that guards would be useless. Rather than drawing attention with a clumsy escort, they chose to remain as inconspicuous as possible from the start. In other words, if we were caught, we were dead.
The second possibility was that the tide of war was extremely unstable. Despite everything, I was the heir of a major vassal. Though not of direct bloodline, I was treated with a certain level of respect. Someone like me wouldn't be sent to just any battlefield. They wouldn't send me to a highly dangerous or disadvantageous front. To put it another way, the current state of the war was incredibly unfavorable and perilous.
Sure enough, Sirien also seemed to have a lot on her mind. Her gaze, fixed on a corner of the carriage, was completely hollow. She might act spoiled often, but Sirien was the smartest among us. Perhaps she had grasped the situation even faster than I had. Soon, she spoke.
"Hey, Rajen."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think the other kids are doing okay? I'm a little worried."
No, she was far better than me. The Grand Duke and his wife only had two children. Thus, the "other kids" Sirien referred to must have been distant relatives—the collateral branches or the children of vassals who lived and ate with them at the estate. Even when her own life was in danger, Sirien knew how to worry about them. Never had a ten-year-old girl looked so mature. I found myself silently repeating her name once more.
Sirien Ilencia. The legitimate daughter of the Grand Duke of Ilencia, the Shield of the Empire. A young lady who always wore a fresh smile and was kind not only to her siblings but also to the servants.
But... those children had likely been used as decoys. It was the most logical deduction, but I had to erase that thought from my mind for now.
"Worry about yourself first. His Grace the Grand Duke and my father are over there. All the senior knights went that way too."
"But that's..."
"I know what you're thinking, but no matter what anyone says, the most important person right now is you. We don't know what lies ahead, so try to get some sleep while you can. I'll wake you up."
"Mm. Okay."
It really was no time to worry about others. We had no idea when the Demon King's pursuit party would catch up to us, and the future in the novel I knew was bleak beyond measure. Ten years. There were only ten years left until the original female lead would reincarnate and ascend as the Saintess.
The Sirien of ten years from now and the Sirien of today are completely different people.
The Sirien I knew from the original novel was a textbook villainess. There wasn't a single trace of the kind-hearted, fragile girl sitting before me. The same went for her worrying about the other children. In the novel, Sirien's very first move was to purge her own kin with her own hands. She had personally sent countless collateral relatives to the execution block to confirm their deaths.
The problem was that I had absolutely no idea what Sirien and I would go through during these ten years. That damn novel—no, that trash novel—didn't describe our backstory in the slightest.
In the worst-case scenario, the current Sirien had died long ago, and the Sirien of the original work was merely a body double. Come to think of it, that actually made much more sense. If the original Sirien was a double, her purging of her kin became perfectly understandable. She wouldn't want to leave anyone alive who knew her true identity. It was a far more plausible theory than this tender-hearted girl suddenly going mad one day.
I can't know for sure yet. There's just too little information right now.
Other reincarnators seemed to memorize every detail of the world-building and the characters' hidden backstories, reaping benefits right from the start. Meanwhile, far from gaining any advantages, I was staring down a dead end from the very beginning. Even though I remembered every single word of the original novel, there wasn't a single piece of useful information.
If I had to name one piece of trivia I knew right now, it was that Count Roxen over there loved cookies baked with Lamyuris flower petals. The Lamyuris flower was native to the western part of the empire, and when its petals were baked, they supposedly tasted sweet and sour. What on earth was I supposed to do with that information? No matter how much I thought about it, I had no idea.
If thinking about it yielded no answers, there was no point in dwelling on it. For now, the priority was escaping this situation. If possible, I planned to strictly manage Therion's health to prevent his death from illness. As for Sirien... I would just have to keep a close eye on her. Even this much might change a great deal. For Sirien, and for me.
Coincidentally, Sirien murmured softly.
"Thank you... I'll leave it to you, then."