The Plague Village of Luxen (Part 2)
"Yes, for now at least."
"What do you mean, for now?"
"The man is notoriously eccentric. He might just slam the door in our faces."
"What? Then what do we do? What happens next?"
What do you mean, what do we do?
All we can do is hope the old bastard takes a liking to you.
"D-do you think he'll like me?"
"Don't worry, Your Highness. Even if he despises you, I still intend to drag him along."
Leaving a visibly anxious Edwin behind me, I stepped up to examine the entrance. The door was so low a grown man would have to duck his head to pass through, and upon its weathered wood was painted a massive yellow X.
"Judging by the mark, it seems he isn't dead yet."
"A mark?"
"You noticed all those houses marked with an X on our way here, didn't you, Your Highness?"
"Yeah, I saw them."
"A yellow X signifies that whoever lived inside succumbed to the plague."
"What? T-then that means whoever lives here is dead too!"
"No. Here, it means the exact opposite."
"The opposite?"
I gave a quiet nod instead of an immediate answer.
"A yellow X if you're still breathing, a red X if you're dead. It's a simple ruse."
Even the guards who occasionally ventured into the village on patrol gave houses bearing a yellow X a wide berth. Unlucky, or some nonsense like that.
"A secret code? That's amazing!"
Edwin's eyes sparkled at the mention of a code. Unlike when we had first set out, he was beginning to act like a boy his age.
Not so long ago, he was terrified of even stepping foot in this village. Are all children this fickle?
I shook my head and looked back toward the door. Just as I raised my arm to knock, however, a sudden hesitation caught me.
Beyond this door lies the past—the past of Kyla Angel.
I would have to confront Ian eventually, if only to take my revenge, but I had no desire to reunite with anyone else from that former life. Least of all those who could become a weakness.
Why?
Because an ominous premonition gnawed at me. A feeling that once I started pulling at the threads of the past, I wouldn't be able to stop. A dread that the ties severed by my death might bleed into this new life and swallow it whole.
"Rachel, what's wrong?"
"…Nothing, Your Highness."
What good did second thoughts do now? I had promised to find the prince a tutor, and I had dragged Edwin all the way here myself. I couldn't afford to walk away empty-handed.
Thud, thud, thud!
"H-hey..."
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
"H-hey, Rachel, stop. Maybe he's out? There's no answer after all that pounding."
"No, he's definitely in there."
At my resolute tone, Edwin scratched his head.
"Is the person living here really that incredible? Enough to go this far?"
"Yes. As far as I know, he is the most brilliant mind on the entire continent."
"R-really?"
"Yes. So brilliant that he earned everyone's hatred, which is why he's living in hiding like this."
Shouldn't being smart make people like you? Why would they hate him? Edwin tilted his head, struggling to comprehend.
"He's almost certainly pretending not to hear us. It's his specialty."
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
"Rachel, still, pounding on the door like that is rude—"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"—Never mind. Just do whatever you want."
Edwin backed away to a safe distance, watching as I hammered away with enough force to splinter the frame.
What on earth is that old bastard doing in there, anyway?
Just as I was seriously contemplating kicking the door off its hinges, the barrier that had refused to budge swung violently open.
"Goddamn bloody hell!"
The master of the house had made his entrance.
Startled by the sudden barrage of profanity, Edwin immediately ducked behind my back.
"What raving lunatic is beating down my bloody door?! Got a death wish, do you?! Who the hell is it?!"
Emerging from the cramped shack was a white-haired old man draped in a threadbare robe. Standing just a hair under seven feet tall, with a ferociously sharp glare, his sheer presence made it instantly clear he was no ordinary soul. He threw a temper tantrum as he looked around, until his furious eyes finally landed on Edwin and me.
"The hell? It's not one lunatic, but a matched pair of whelps? What are you two wet-behind-the-ears brats doing making a racket at my door? Come to beg for scraps, have you?"
Though my hood was still pulled low over my face, he had pegged me as a woman in an instant.
Foul-mouthed as ever, you cantankerous old bastard.
Meanwhile, annoyed that I was simply staring at him without answering, the old man barked even louder.
"What's the matter with you?! Banging on a man's door like that and now you're struck dumb? If you've got no business, get lost! Piss off before I dump a bucket of nightsoil—"
"Viscount Sage Lill."
The moment his true name fell from my lips, all expression vanished from the old man's—no, from Sage's—face.
"I've come to collect on your Life Debt."
Life Debt.
At that single phrase, dead silence descended upon the threshold.
"What... Who the hell are you? How..." Sage's eyes bulged wide. "How do you know that name? No, how do you know those words?"
"Let us inside first. We can talk after."
"What? You pulling my leg? How do I know what mangy stray you are?!"
Suspicious old coot. Then again, it was precisely that paranoid wariness that had kept him alive all these years.
"I don't mind staying out here, but my companion is exhausted after the long journey."
Sage scoffed dismissively, only for his gaze to cross with Edwin's. Meeting the boy's guileless, innocent eyes—a look that could disarm even me—the old man's face twisted into an aggravated grimace.
"...Goddammit. This is why you never open the door to beggars dragging along a young brat."
Clicking his tongue, Sage finally jerked his chin toward the interior.
"Get inside! Before I change my mind!"
Without hesitation, I stepped across the threshold. Edwin, still casting nervous glances at the giant old man, shuffled timidly in after me.
The interior of Sage's dwelling was just as wretched as the exterior suggested. The ceiling was oppressively low, the room cramped, and fully half of that confined space was dominated by a massive worktable. The table was strewn with dried herbs, desiccated animal entrails, and assorted alchemical oddities. The pungent, eye-watering stench rising from the clutter was so overpowering that it utterly drowned out the rotting odors from outside.
"Sit wherever! Go sit on the bed or something!"
I guided the bewildered Edwin to the narrow bed and then pulled back my hood. When I turned toward Sage, I found him staring intently at me.
"Right, out with it. Who the hell are you brats?"
"I am—"
"Bah, why even ask! That wretched wench sent you, didn't she? Seeing as you're babbling about a life debt."
Damn old man. Still got that habit of asking questions and answering them himself.
"So, what does she want for that life debt? Knowing that girl Kyla, she'd never make a deal that leaves her on the losing end." Sage dug at his ear with a blasé expression. "Spit it out. If it's something I can give, I'll pay up and be done with it."
"Aren't you sus—"
"Aren't I suspicious? Why would I be? No need for it. That wench is far too thorough. She'd never give my location to a total stranger."
I had always assumed he hated me from the day we first met. At this rate, had he actually liked me while stubbornly pretending otherwise?
"Then I will get straight to the point."
"Fine, make it quick—"
The old sage nodded irritably. This time, it was my turn to cut him off.
"Become a tutor."
"Sure, a tutor—wait, what? A tutor?" Sage knitted his bushy brows as if convinced his hearing had failed him. "What brand of fresh bullshit is this now?"
"It is no bullshit. I need you to become his mentor."
"A mentor out of nowhere?" He let out a dumbfounded scoff. "Ha! Didn't that wench tell you that the second I step out of this place, I'm a dead man?"
"I am well aware. You drew the wrath of the Empire's merchant cartels, did you not?"
How could I not know? The cartel bosses were the very ones who had commissioned Angel's Breath to assassinate him in the first place. They had demanded Sage be erased without a trace—both his life and every achievement he had ever made.
"It wasn't just them, either! The Holy Kingdom treats me like I'm a heretic who murdered God Himself! You know all that, and you still have the nerve to ask?"
"You need not worry about that. Once you leave this place, you will be heading to the safest place in the Empire."
"The safest place? No such damn place exists! Talk some sense—"
"The Ventrum Imperial Palace."
The moment the words left my mouth, silence blanketed the room once more.
"...The Imperial Palace? Did you say the Imperial Palace?"
Sage muttered the words over and over before glaring daggers at me.
"You ask me to be a tutor, and you bring up the palace? What, is the brat I'm supposed to teach an imperial prince or something?"
"Sharp as ever."
"Cut the crap! You think I'd waltz into the Imperial Palace for something like that? Safe, my ass! Why in the bloody hell would I dive headfirst into that viper's nest?!"
"You will."
When I answered without so much as a flicker in my expression, Sage narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing me as if trying to peel back layers.
"You... look strangely like Kyla. Right down to those insolent green eyes and that infuriating tone of voice. A spitting image."
He really is quick on the uptake.
When I offered a quiet smirk instead of a reply, Sage clicked his tongue again.
"Tsk. What cursed luck that I ever made a deal with such a wicked wench..."
Muttering under his breath, Sage rose from his seat and lumbered toward Edwin. Startled by the giant old man suddenly bearing down on him, the boy stiffened, but Sage paid no heed to Edwin's terrified expression.
"Well, I was getting sick to death of rotting away in this hole anyway. Playing tutor in the palace might not be the worst thing. Hardly anyone left there would recognize my face by now."
Mumbling to himself, he examined Edwin for a good long while.
"Dragging a child into a plague village... I can't tell if you've got brains or not a single lick of sense." He clicked his tongue when his eyes landed on the lump of dark lime smeared across Edwin's arm. "And what is this ridiculous disguise? Did Kyla tell you to slap this on? Her handiwork hasn't improved one damn bit. Though I suppose those gatekeeping dogs aren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. Pathetic work, truly."
After sneering and grumbling to his heart's content, Sage turned his head back toward me.
"By the way... is this runt really a prince? For an imperial prince, he looks awfully dim-witted."