Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Screams in the Dead of Night
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“Are these the ones?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The weather was such that even a slight puff from the gods would unleash a torrent of snow. The Merelrof Count swept his gaze over the people standing before the mansion. Besides the conscripted private soldiers, the territory folk who had volunteered to head to Sheiron together were huddled awkwardly.
The steward closed the roster and gave a brief explanation.
“We’ve selected those with upright conduct and large families.”
The road to and from Sheiron was isolated. Like the vast open sea, any problem that arose would surely spell disaster. Since survival itself was at stake, they had chosen members based on their morality and sense of responsibility.
As compensation for the hardships, they would also receive a modest wage and permission for individual food trading. It was then, as the Merelrof Count continued his overall inspection.
“My lord! My lord!”
Whoosh!
Someone could be seen dashing from the main gate, dodging the guards. The man threw himself flat before the Merelrof Count and began pleading desperately. At the sudden turn of events, the count’s brows furrowed deeply.
“What is this? Since when has the mansion gate been so lax?”
“I’m Collin from below Hyphentown! Please let me join the temporary trading group! I beg you!”
Seeing him bang his head on the ground in supplication, the Merelrof Count glanced at the steward, utterly baffled.
“S-sorry, my lord. Guards! Drag him out!”
“My lord, I’m really useful. You saw it yourself, didn’t you? I’m confident in running, and my strength is better than it looks. Adding just one more young guy like me means we can haul six or seven extra sacks of wheat. No, definitely seven. Please, please...”
The Merelrof Count crossed his arms and looked down at the back of Collin’s head, pressed flat to the ground. He had enthusiasm, and as the man said, he was young—baffling why he’d been excluded.
The steward frantically flipped through the roster and added hurriedly.
“He has a large family, but no credibility from frequenting private gambling dens. He’s a petty criminal with priors.”
“That was from my foolish youth. I have four siblings above and below me, and my parents sell firewood every day. Honestly, I’m the only one not pulling my weight at home, so if you give me a chance, I’ll work hard!”
The Merelrof Count pondered quietly before asking.
“Have you been Merelrof territory folk since birth?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Include him.”
“My lord! That’s...”
“He’s trembling and begging for work—how could he cause trouble? Private soldiers will be along, so no need to worry. In exchange, your wage will be halved. No objections?”
“N-none. Yes, none. Thank you!”
They were short on hands as it was. As the man said, adding one more like him would increase the sacks they could bring back—no reason at all to refuse. And with half the wage? Pure profit!
“Thank you! Thank you!”
“Enough. Steward, wrap it up and let’s head inside.”
“Yes, understood.”
Collin bowed his head to the ground again, as if his life had been spared. The Merelrof Count mistook his behavior for simple desperation born of hunger.
‘Saved. Hic, fuck, I’m saved. If I couldn’t get in here, those bastards would have...’
That was why, seeing him clasp his hands in apparent感動, the count felt a twinge of pity. What must his family situation be like, for him to rejoice so over a single job?
“Looking at him, he’ll handle work well enough. Isn’t that right?”
“...We’ll train him properly.”
The steward replied reluctantly to the count’s words. Master or not, his judgment was baffling. Foolishness driven by greed, no doubt.
The gain from including the man versus the stability without him. It was frustrating that the count couldn’t weigh which was more valuable.
“You. Collin, was it?”
“Yes.”
“Stand over here.”
“Yes!”
The steward let out a deep sigh as he guided the jubilant Collin. Collin followed, truly delighted that he could fulfill Ian’s orders and that his life had been prolonged.
“I’ll call names, so come forward one by one to sign the contracts. We’ll pay part of your wages upfront.”
The steward opened the roster again and nodded to the temporary trading group. Collin signed meticulously, accepted his wage with an awkward smile, and bolted from the mansion.
Even his retreating figure screamed unreliability. The steward sighed in lament as he tucked away the contract stamped with Collin’s palm print.
Pat pat pat!
Collin dashed past two men smoking roll-up cigarettes by the roadside. The men exchanged a silent glance, then smirked as they exhaled smoke.
“Extended his lifeline.”
“Looks like it.”
The thick relief on his face suggested he’d made the temporary trading group. Had he failed even that, tonight would have been Collin’s last.
“But the atmosphere here is totally different from last time, huh?”
The men muttered as they ground out their cigarettes. They were Romandro’s subordinates, assigned to monitor Collin. In a mere two or three months, the once-vibrant territory’s energy had slumped.
“It’s the rumor that the caravan won’t come.”
“Not just a rumor, though?”
“Yeah. Right.”
The higher the hopes had risen, the more uncontrollably the disappointment and anxiety swelled.
The subordinates trailed Collin into the shadows of the back alley and vanished. Soon after, the man watching the two turned away as well. Clark, a servant at the Merelrof mansion.
Knock knock.
Returning to the mansion, Clark knocked on Lady Merelrof’s study door. No reply from within. He glanced left and right along the corridor, then slipped inside swiftly.
“Madam, a suspicious man has slipped into the trading group.”
“Is that so? Good.”
Lady Merelrof did not appear. She responded only in her usual clear voice.
“Clark, you take care out there too.”
“...Yes.”
“I believe you’ll succeed.”
“Don’t worry.”
Clark longed for one last glimpse of her, but she never emerged.
* * *
They had patched the torn cloth multiple times and wedged wood scraps under the soles. Four days since departing Merelrof. Before the flesh-tearing wind, the trading group pulled their empty carts, noses running nonstop.
“How much farther?”
“Who knows. The distance is about like to Hawan Kingdom, but the road’s so rough. Weather says snow’s coming soon.”
“Still, sweating keeps my insides from feeling cold.”
“Sigh. Ugh, why’s my nose keep running? It’s gonna freeze off.”
Still, the mood was decent enough.
Private soldiers or not, they were all Merelrof territory folk and neighbors. They knew each other, next door or across the street. Laughter even broke out now and then.
“Collin, where’ve you been lately?”
“...Just here and there with some business.”
“Nothing to do with that, right?”
“With what?”
“You know, those big shots from the green-roof gambling den tried to kill someone in Bratz. Rumor says it was Ian.”
“The former Bratz Count’s bastard son?”
Collin flinched at the men’s words and averted his eyes. It felt like Ian was watching everything through his own eyes and ears right now. Via that unknown power melted into his gut.
“N-no. Totally unrelated to me.”
“Right? Well, if it was, you’d be dead and not here.”
“Yeah. Now he’s the new family head. What luck. Born and bred in a brothel, and he gets a title to boot.”
“Brothel?”
“Yeah, his mother was a courtesan. See? That’s why you need talent first.”
“Courtesan? Nah. I heard she just lived there ’cause of debts.”
“Whatever. Doesn’t matter what she did. Talent, luck—it’s all luck. Starts with crossing the Great Desert and the count’s head rolling. He came back alive, so his luck’s tapped out now!”
“That’s just your hope. Heh heh.”
Their chattering voices didn’t register. These were facts Collin was learning for the first time. He’d jumped in headfirst just for the money...
“Let’s stop here for the day. That cave looks good.”
“Yeah. Push further and it’ll be dark.”
“Tch. Winter days are short. Can’t move anymore.”
They unrolled sleeping bags in the small cave and parked the carts at the entrance. Awkward with the entrance blocked, but it kept out the knife-like wind well enough. Once firewood was stacked in the center and lit, everyone sprawled out in languid comfort.
“What if it snows overnight?”
“What to do... We’ll handle it...”
“Ugh. Scoot over a bit.”
“No room for me? Want me to roast by the fire?”
“I’ll head back a little.”
Pressed tight together, Collin slipped away from the dense cluster toward the entrance. Windy and cold, but perfect for the deed.
And hours later.
“Groooan...”
“Mmm, kuhk...”
When the snoring battered their ears.
Collin rose stealthily, grabbed a torch, and stepped out. The shrouded night was utter pitch black.
‘Sorry, everyone. But if I don’t, I die.’
He pulled an oil pouch from his inner pocket and tossed it onto the empty carts. Hesitating over whether to fling the ember onto the oil.
“Hey, what’re you doing?”
“Eek!”
Suddenly, a presence from behind.
Startled, Collin didn’t drop the torch. A man approached with a blank expression, eyeing the carts, the flame, and Collin in turn.
“N-no, I wasn’t doing anything?”
“What nothing. Collin, you! Burning for the gold coins? You damn bastard! My god!”
“...Huh?”
It felt like a play. Yelling to himself, he snatched the torch from Collin and hurled it without pause. Flames erupted, encircling the panicked Collin.
“W-w-what...”
Slash!
A blade raked his throat in a flash. Collin’s vision tilted slowly upward, filling with the murky night sky alone. Stirred by the commotion, one by one, they rushed out of the cave.
“...What’s going on, Clark? Eek! Fire! It’s fire!”
“No water? Damn! Throw dirt on it!”
“Fire! Fire! Everyone up!”
“Uwaaak! Crazy!”
“That guy started the fire!”
Amid the chaos, Collin merely blinked. No words came. Like white specks stamped on the sky, snowflakes fell amid the stars.
‘Who is he? A stranger, but he knows my name.’
Blood surged from Collin’s neck, soaking the earth. The mysterious man gazed down at the convulsing body. Collin died with eyes wide open.
Meanwhile, Romandro’s subordinate hid in nearby bushes, witnessing it all.
‘...No, fuck. What the hell happened? Who the fuck is that guy?’
Not a cold-induced hallucination? The mystery man who appeared out of nowhere, killed Collin, and torched the carts. No need to watch more. Romandro’s subordinate turned cautiously and retraced his path.
Clark glanced at the rustling bushes, then calmly shoveled dirt.
“Save the carts!”
“Damn, you mad bastard!”
“Oh no, it’s all burning! Burn!”
In the dead of night, their screams rang out fiercer than the wind.