Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Nightmare of the Cerned Barony
-----------------------------------------------------------------
*
Cerned was a typical, rundown rural barony. Two small villages based on farming and hunting, and two scattered mountain hamlets.
At its heart stood what could barely be called a town—a somewhat sizable village that was laughably modest by any real measure.
The serfs had bowed their heads to the Cerned nobles without a second thought, but in hindsight, it was nothing more than a backwater barony of no consequence.
“Once, this village was my entire world.”
The man walking ahead said nothing. His face was ashen white, his lips blue—he was dying from blood loss, cold, and exhaustion.
Fernandez knew the man could collapse at any moment. But what did it matter? Smiling, Fernandez untied the rope looped around the man’s neck.
“Go on. Announce my arrival. Then you can get treated.”
The man glanced at Fernandez’s face before staggering away. Leaving him to reach the village entrance first, Fernandez slowly urged his horse forward.
Guards atop the wooden palisade scrambled down and surrounded him.
“Y-Young master? Why have you come back! You need to flee while you still—”
“Ah, thank you for your concern. You seem to know me well.”
“Young master?”
“Sorry. I don’t remember you. I’ve returned to see the regent.”
“It’s dangerous! Right now—”
“Fernandez Cerned!!”
A gravelly shout rang out then. The guards flinched and stepped back, allowing a sturdy, broad-shouldered man to stride forward.
Alejandro Cerned. The regent’s son—and his cousin.
“Oh, Alejandro. Long time no see.”
“Long time? Have you lost your mind? You ran off yesterday, and now you’re talking about ‘long time’?”
Alejandro smirked as he approached, clenching his fist in a menacing display. Fernandez met the threat with a smile, looking down at him.
“Calm yourself, cousin. I’ve come to see Daniel.”
“So now you’re calling your uncle by name like some equal!”
“I’m sixteen now. Once I come of age, this barony is mine. Why should I address the regent with undue deference?”
“You’ve gone completely mad! Get down from there!”
“Hm. Cousin, you’re mistaken about something.”
Fernandez dismounted slowly and drew his sword. Alejandro flinched at the razor-sharp aura but soon snarled with a savage grin.
“You didn’t get enough of a beating last night, did you, Fernandez? You know what drawing a sword means.”
“That under Noble Duel Law, there’s no liability for killing. A fine pretext.”
“No need to bother throwing down the gauntlet, then.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know how battles between mages are conducted, would you?”
Alejandro blinked dumbly at the sudden question, then answered on reflex.
“With magic?”
“Half right.”
-Shunk!
“Gaaah!”
Fernandez approached Alejandro steadily and thrust straight into his thigh.
Alejandro’s eyes bulged at the abrupt strike as he tried to react, but Fernandez’s blade slyly evaded his arms, piercing the inner thigh muscle before withdrawing.
Alejandro crumpled in agony.
“To disrupt an opponent’s magic, you hurl a dagger, close in, and stab with a sword. A mage’s fundamentals are closer to basic combat techniques than spells.”
And I spent my life as a Wildcast wandering mage. Fernandez gazed coldly at the fallen Alejandro.
He shouted to the encircling soldiers and serfs murmuring around them.
“Someone treat him. I severed the femoral artery—without a tourniquet, he’ll be dead in ten minutes. Take him to a priest. And you.”
Fernandez addressed the soldier who had first approached him amiably.
“Escort me to Regent Daniel Cerned.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Fernandez twirled his sword to flick off the blood, wiped the residue on his pants, sheathed it, and remounted.
This was his second voluntary return to Cerned Barony since running away. In his past life as the black mage Feizashi, he had come for vengeance and ruin. But now...
‘Now it’s more of an experiment.’
*
The Cerned manor house was the village’s only stone building, but that didn’t mean it served as any grand keep.
Perched on a gentle hill, the structure had a plain, unassuming exterior that aimed for approachability over intimidation—a fact that grated on Daniel.
Another thing that infuriated him was:
“You left my son in that state?”
“Ah, Daniel. By Noble Duel Law, it was a perfectly legal duel.”
Fernandez stood before him in a lax pose, unscathed, thanks to the incompetent guards who hadn’t dared stop him.
Daniel’s guard captain growled from beside him, gripping his sword hilt threateningly.
“My lord, shall I slit his throat?”
“Oh. How scary.”
Fernandez chuckled at the guard captain. It had only been a day.
Until last night’s impulsive flight, Fernandez had been a timid brat too cowardly to even meet the guard captain’s eyes.
The sort who’d gotten thrashed by his cousin, run off without proper travel preparations—a naive child clueless about the world.
“Why did you come back?”
“An experiment.”
“Experiment?”
Daniel recoiled instinctively, leaning back.
Something repulsive seemed to be glaring at him.
Fernandez’s expression vanished, replaced by an inscrutable aura.
In those emotionless, glass-like eyes, Daniel felt utterly overwhelmed. Fernandez spoke in a flat tone.
“An experiment to see if someone I didn’t kill before...can die by my hand.”
“What does that—”
“If so, there’s no guarantee the world will end.”
Death was the ultimate destroyer of possibilities, after all.
Feeling the weight of his sword hilt, Fernandez advanced slowly on Daniel.
By his hypothesis:
Q1. Does the world flow according to fate?
The simplest proof:
A1. Kill someone his past self hadn’t killed.
Regrettably, Daniel was someone who had died before Fernandez—as Feizashi, inaugural chairman of the Ashen Twilight Society—had risen to prominence.
Fernandez pointed his sword at Daniel.
“I won’t destroy this world, Daniel. No grudge here. Take up your sword.”
“Urgh, st-stop him!”
“Yes, sir!”
At Daniel’s groan, the guard captain gripped his hilt and stepped forward.
The sudden shift in Fernandez’s demeanor had blunted the captain’s nerve.
Fernandez raised a finger at the sight.
“Good. Now Noble Duel Law applies once more.”
Sparks flew from Fernandez’s fingertip.
*
“Grrraaah!!!”
Alejandro clutched his thigh, bound tight with linen bandages, and groaned.
Cold sweat drenched his body as pain lanced through his spine. Worse still was the numbness below his knee—the terror of lifelong disability.
Amid fear, pain, rage, and humiliation, he screamed.
“Young master! Young master!”
“Urgh.”
His squire rushed to him in panic, shouting.
Alejandro glared with bloodshot eyes, and the squire paled, trembling as he spoke.
“Baron Daniel Cerned...is dead.”
“Gaaaah!!”
Fearing shattered teeth, frothy blood bubbled from the gag his squires had stuffed in.
With shaking hands, Alejandro moved from his thigh to painfully remove the gag.
Half-delirious from blood loss and pain, he rasped:
“...How?”
“Young master Fernandez Cerned...invoked Noble Duel Law...”
“And the guard captain...!”
“Young master used magic. His finger flashed, the captain clutched his eyes, and then his heart was pierced by a sword...”
Magic! Nonsense! Alejandro tried to spit the pooled blood in his mouth and shout. But a thought flashed through his mind then.
No way? That brat? It was an absurd hypothesis, more so than magic.
A sudden personality change, wielding magic, stabbing without hesitation—brutal.
The sniveling weakling who’d pissed himself begging for mercy just last night?
In Alejandro’s mind, it was already an irrefutable theory.
“Call...the Inquisitor...”
“P-Pardon?”
“Now! Request a religious trial! Go!”
Alejandro shoved aside the pain and bellowed. Overwhelmed by the fierce command, the squire bolted.
Alejandro panted raggedly, clutching his thigh again.
Spawn of the devil. Traitor to humanity. Kinslayer!
All memory of how he’d abused Fernandez in the past was gone from his mind.
Alejandro craved ‘justice.’ Punishment for the devil, vengeance for his father.
“Grrraaah!”
Fresh blood spurted from his thigh.
He was dying from blood loss, and most of his squires had already fled in terror at Fernandez’s sudden return and the chaos engulfing the village.
Alone in the shabby room his squire had prepared, he slowly grew cold.
*