5-Not a Rebellion. Revolution
5-Not a Rebellion. Revolution
Leard von Crucius was quicker than expected.
It hadn't even been ten minutes since they left the auction house. He finished the settlement with the auctioneer, received the documents from the guard,
During the brief exchange, Leard didn't say a single word. He just walked. Quickly, without making a sound. He was still like that even after turning down two alleys.
And then, in the third alley.
His collar was grabbed. His back hit the wall. It was a stone wall. An old, cold stone wall soaked with the smell of moss.
Leard's hand, emerging from his robe, was firmly gripping my collar. It was a large, rough hand. If my neck had been pressed by this hand, I wouldn't have been able to endure it.
The surroundings were dark. It was a place where the light from the auction house didn't reach. It was dark without a single torch, but through the narrow opening of the sky, the moon could be seen. It was a cold, white, expressionless moon.
Under that moonlight, Leard's eyes were close. They weren't the eyes of calculation. Not in this moment. They were simply sharp. Like the eyes of a wary beast.
"My name. How did you know it."
It was a sentence without a question mark. It was a voice demanding an answer, but beneath that low, dry tone, something was suppressed. Something—whether anxiety or anger—was barely held in check.
I steadied my breath. My back was against the wall, nowhere to retreat. My feet were on the ground. I was in a fifteen-year-old body. A body a head shorter than this man. Still, I didn't lower my gaze.
Keuk.
My neck was pressed a little more. Still, laughter escaped. Silent laughter. I knew it was strange to laugh in this situation, but my body acted first.
"That's what I'd like to know."
Leard's eyes narrowed.
"Speak properly."
"I don't know where 'proper' begins." My voice was slightly hoarse from the pressure on my neck. Still, I didn't stop. "In two years, there won't be anyone who doesn't know. Is it really that strange that I know now?"
The grip tightened.
"Isn't that right, child of a false god."
Silence settled. A very brief silence. And then, all calculation vanished from Leard's eyes.
A fist flew. I didn't dodge. I couldn't. My head snapped to the side, and my vision went white for a moment.
The taste of iron filled my mouth. My ear rang. My knees buckled, and my hands hit the stone floor. The cold, rough surface dug into my palms.
Leard's voice came from above.
"Don't test my patience."
I knew. I knew where this man's patience ran out. I hadn't witnessed it myself in my previous life, but the rumors I'd caught were enough.
What had happened to three church inquisitors at this man's hands.
And even knowing that, I provoked him. Because right now, I needed this.
Slowly, I raised my head. I looked up at Leard. I could feel blood beading at the corner of my mouth.
"If you want, you could just slit my throat and silence me."
Leard said nothing. In that silence, something was being recalculated.
Ha.
A breath escaped. "But you won't be able to do that."
There was a wind passing through the alley. A cold wind. The hem of Leard's robe fluttered slightly. His eyes still looked down at me, but their temperature seemed to have changed from before.
Once the anger receded, this man always went back to calculating.
"If you know me." Leard said slowly, enunciating each syllable. "You should also know that I'm not a pacifist."
I didn't lower my gaze.
"That's true."
Leard slowly lowered himself. To my eye level as I knelt. It was a close distance. His eyes were calculating again.
"How much do you know."
"Everything." I paused briefly. "Maybe even more than that."
=====
In the previous world, Leard von Crucius was given one epithet.
The Cruel Savior.
He was hot-tempered. He didn't fear making arbitrary decisions, and once he made a decision, he pushed it to the end. He was belligerent and didn't listen to the dissuasion of others.
He was a man of action before persuasion. Even in my previous life, I had heard the rumor that the church inquisitors would turn pale at the mention of that name.
Nevertheless, the reason he was able to overturn this country in that previous world was due to two reasons.
The first was his purpose. The eradication of this religion. A single purpose. Things like saving others were never his goal from the start. It was simply that people were placed along his path, and so he acted.
Because he didn't set out to save, salvation followed him instead. That irony made him a legend in that previous world.
And the second.
It wasn't a story to bring up right now. There was something I needed to say first.
"I can't tell you everything right now."
Leard's eyes narrowed.
"But I guarantee one thing." I took a deep breath, all the way to the bottom of my lungs. And as I exhaled slowly, I said, "You will fail."
Leard didn't even flinch.
"You will overturn this world. Clearly. I don't doubt that. But in the end, you will fail and be executed. Without achieving your revenge."
The alley was quiet. Somewhere, a rat scurried by. Faintly, the noise of the auction house could be heard in the distance.
Amidst those noises, Leard didn't say anything for a long while. He wasn't angry, nor was he trying to deny it.
He was just listening. He was a person who didn't hold any particular emotion about his own death. The rumor that his expression wouldn't change even on the day he ascended the execution platform seemed to be proven by the look in his eyes now.
"...You speak as if you've already seen it."
I didn't deny it.
"Maybe I have."
Leard slowly straightened up. His robe left only an outline in the darkness.
"You only need to know one thing."
Those eyes looked down at me again. Moonlight slanted in, illuminating half of his eye.
"That I'm the same as you."
Silence descended. This time, it was a different kind of silence. Not heavy. A stillness as if something had paused, the kind that makes you hold your breath.
For the first time, something else passed through Leard's eyes. Something that was neither calculation, nor wariness, nor anger. Something difficult to name flickered for just a moment, then quickly vanished.
Something caught in my throat. I swallowed it quietly.
=====
The Stein family was branded as heresy and annihilated.
I wasn't curious how Leard knew that fact. What I had heard in my previous life had already told me that this man knew everything.
He wasn't one to just hear rumors—he dug in directly. To overturn the church from within, he had to know its insides better than anyone. Both this man and the ending of the previous life proved all of that.
I took my hand off my knee. I slowly rose. My legs wobbled slightly. The body of a fifteen-year-old still felt unfamiliar. My knee throbbed, and the blood at the corner of my mouth was drying.
"That woman who was about to buy me just now."
Leard gave me his attention.
"She's the commander of the holy knight order that slaughtered my family."
My voice didn't waver as I spoke. I didn't have to make an effort to keep it steady. It was a fact I had known for five years already.
For five years, I lived knowing that fact, and even knowing what Mae-hwa's hands had done, I grew accustomed to the sound of curtains following those hands. So now, I didn't waver. Dulled and accepted are different, but in the end, they stood in a similar place.
"If you had stayed still, I probably would have been sold to her. I would have lived without knowing anything." I paused briefly.
"Thinking of her as family, feeling love for her, not even knowing whose hands killed my family."
And more than that. I also knew that in my previous life, it had actually happened that way. Five years. In Mae-hwa's mansion, within that name, five years of growing accustomed as if it were natural. I had no intention of living those five years again.
"Do you know how miserable that feeling is."
It wasn't a question. Leard wouldn't know. He couldn't possibly. But I wanted to say it. Just once. In this alley, in this darkness, if only in front of this man.
Leard's eyes moved. Slightly.
"...You."
"Yes."
Something settled somewhere in my chest. It wasn't heavy. It felt like briefly looking down at something I had been holding for a long time. Not putting it down, but acknowledging that it was there.
"I've seen it all."
Leard didn't react. Neither an expression of belief nor disbelief. He was just listening. When this man listened to stories, he barely had any expression. That, in fact, made it easier to talk. If there had been an expression, I would have had to match my words to it.
"Believe it or not, that's up to you."
Wind blew in from the alley entrance. It was wind from the auction house. A wind mixed with the smell of people, fire, and iron filled the alley for a moment, then passed.
"You must have a reason for coming here too. Someone like you wouldn't come to buy a slave."
Leard's eyes narrowed. Wary eyes.
"You came to see me."
As I spoke, certainty grew. It had been among the rumors I'd caught while drifting through the market in my previous life. Among the countless things people said about him after the name Leard von Crucius had spread.
That salvation wasn't his goal, but he carried it out. The people placed on his path—so he acted.
"Someone who, like you, became a scapegoat of this damned religion."
Leard averted his gaze. He looked at the end of the alley. At the side where the darkness was deeper. He didn't answer. Not answering was an answer.
"You probably came with the intention of taking me if I had the will to live."
In my previous life, I had no will to live. I kept my eyes downcast on the auction block. I just listened from a distance as the numbers went up. Five years proved what the result of that was. This time, it was different. That one difference created this alley now.
=====
About what was inherent in this man.
In my previous life, there was a rumor I'd caught. The Cruel Savior. He wasn't a hypocritical saint. But he wasn't an honest villain either. When I first heard it, I didn't understand what it meant.
I realized later. That was the second reason this man could become a savior. Even though his sole purpose was eradication, even though he was hot-tempered, even though he was arbitrary, something fundamental within him made people follow along that path.
Using the word 'goodness' seemed like something he would resist. But there was no other word.
"I have a target to take revenge on."
Leard turned his head. He shifted his gaze from the end of the alley and looked at me again.
"That woman."
His voice was low. It seemed less like a question and more like confirming a guess.
"Yes. And the holy knight order that killed my family."
As I spoke, my hand trembled once. I clenched my fist. A hand without calluses. I knew that revenge was impossible with the hands of a fifteen-year-old, impossible alone. That was why I was standing here now.
I looked straight at Leard. I didn't avoid his gaze. I knew that if I avoided these eyes, I would lose. The moment I was pushed back by this man, the calculation would be overturned.
"If you help me with my revenge, I'll help you with yours. I'll destroy this damned religion."
I paused briefly. I hadn't known if I could say these words out loud. In the five years I'd lived, I'd never once spoken them aloud.
"So that your rebellion becomes a revolution."
Leard didn't say anything for a long time. Those eyes were looking at me. They were the eyes of calculation, but this time, there was something more.
Something unreadable. I shouldn't think I could read everything in this man's eyes. What I'd heard in my previous life wasn't everything. Rumors were rumors, and the person in front of me was the person in front of me.
I held my breath. The soles of my feet rested on the cold stone. The hand I'd clenched was still trembling. The blood at the corner of my mouth had completely dried.
Leard opened his mouth.
"...Ha."
It was a sound like a breath escaping. A sound I couldn't tell was laughter, or emptiness, or something else entirely.
"Good. I like it."
I relaxed my hand. I unclenched my fist. Quietly, so it wouldn't be noticed.
"So, is the negotiation concluded?"
Leard started walking again. Deeper into the alley, toward the side where the darkness was thicker. He didn't look back at me. As if it were only natural that I follow.
"What should I call you, then. Colleague?"
My feet moved. I followed behind Leard. Into the darkness, to where the moonlight didn't reach.
That moment.
Something reacted at my neck. It felt like a lightning strike, but faster and more densely scanning through my entire body. My muscles contracted and released involuntarily. My knee buckled, and I braced myself against the wall. Without the wall, I would have collapsed.
Keuk.
My breath stopped for a moment, then returned. The slave collar around my neck was hot as if burning. No, it was more like electricity than heat. I hadn't known that the collar the guard had put on me at the auction house had such a function.
"What is this—"
Leard turned around. A small metal device was in his hand. It was cold and flat. His expression was unchanged from the beginning. That made me even angrier. The rumor that his expression wouldn't change until the day he was executed was being proven here in this alley first.
"You seem to be under a misconception."
Leard spoke lowly.
"You are currently my slave."
The sensation from the collar gradually subsided. Strength slowly returned to my body. My knees were still trembling. I took my hand off the wall and stood upright. My legs shook, but I straightened them. I couldn't stay bent.
"Just call me von."
Leard turned back around and started walking. This time, he didn't stop walking as he spoke.
"And like you said, I'll take this collar off once we get to know each other a bit better."
I watched his retreating figure. The robe was melting into the darkness. The moonlight only illuminated the entrance of the alley, and Leard was already beyond its reach.
I gritted my teeth.
"...You son of a bitch."
It was loud enough to be heard. Quietly, but clearly.
Leard's footsteps paused for a moment, then continued. He didn't look back. I couldn't tell if he'd heard or not. He probably did. This man was one who heard everything.
I moved my feet. Into the darkness. Following that retreating figure.
The collar around my neck was cold. The heat from before had vanished as if a lie. Whether this was negotiation or restraint, it was probably both. It seemed he'd intended this from the start. That made me angry, and it made me angrier that I'd expected it.
Still, it was fine.
This time, I would calculate from the start. This man, this collar, this darkness. Everything from the beginning.
I would live. This time.