It Begins with Isaac Chapter 11.1

Leaving behind the mansion, now reduced to a massive heap of ashes, Asil drove the carriage in a frantic escape. To the kingdom’s soldiers guarding various parts of the mansion, he subtly hinted that Martis did not wish to be disturbed during his time with Valery. Knowing full well that Martis’s feelings toward Valery bordered on obsession beyond mere hatred, his subordinates nodded without objection to Asil’s words. They were already preoccupied, patrolling the mansion’s perimeter with heightened alertness to guard against any potential ambush. The faces of the soldiers showed no suspicion whatsoever that Asil, who looked frail from lack of sleep, food, or bathing, could have caused any trouble.

It would take at least an hour for Valery’s body to fully recover from the paralysis. If one of Martis’s subordinates barged into the room without permission before then, everything would be over. Even someone like Valery could not possibly fend off an armed soldier while bound hand and foot. Moreover, he was in a state where it wouldn’t be surprising if he succumbed to the massive blood loss at any moment. He might even die on his own before any attack could occur.

Asil shook his head roughly and repeatedly struck the reins. The carriage jolted heavily, picking up speed. Thinking about Valery any further was unnecessary. There was nothing left between him and Asil now. No ties or interests bound them. To avoid immediate death, Asil would need to keep fleeing from Valery, but that would only last a few months. Hiding out in a remote mountain village for a while would suffice. Even if Valery initially searched for him with vengeful fervor, he would soon realize there was no reason to continue and abandon the futile effort.

Valery was a busy man. After graduation, he would head straight to the frontier, commanding all manner of large and small wars. Right now, he might be blinded by raging indignation, desperate to capture and kill Asil, but at some point, he would give up the chase. There was simply no reason to persist. He would gradually come to realize that a man he had toyed with for a few months meant nothing to him.

But for now… he might be furious enough to lose all reason.

“Could he really…”

Asil was no fool. He had no desire to blind himself and pretend he couldn’t discern the truth.

“Have…”

He recalled Valery’s expression, as if some deep part of him had crumbled when Asil declared he was leaving. The voice that alternated between persuasion and threats had carried an uncharacteristic faint tremble. And what about the cry that slipped through the closing door? Though Asil had heard his name countless times in his life, never had it been called like that. So low, so grim, so soft, yet so loud, with the desperate urgency of a prisoner begging for his life…

Asil shook his head again. He suddenly felt a throbbing pain in his palm. The leather reins, gripped too tightly, had dug into his skin.

“No need to think about it.”

Yet Asil thought.

“He’s going to die.”

No matter how monstrous Valery’s physical abilities were, he had been left for hours with a hole in his abdomen. Abandoned alone in a place surrounded by enemies, bound like a beast, he was in a position to meet an undignified, wretched death. So why was Asil so anxious, unable to speed up? By all odds, Valery was likely already dead, so why was Asil so certain he would survive, bleeding and chasing after him?

“If I left the pager, he might have managed to make contact.”

Cain was a sharp and quick-witted aide. The moment he detected the signal from Asil’s pager, he would realize something had deviated from the plan.

Asil’s mind raced with countless variables. Even as he tried to convince himself to forget it all, he pictured Valery already dead, Valery chasing him while bleeding, Valery narrowly rescued by triggering the pager, Valery spitting in the direction Asil had fled and walking away… Valery kept resurfacing in his thoughts. The act of killing Martis with a single stab, the bodies of his family loaded in the carriage—none of it mattered to Asil in that moment.

Unable to suppress a sudden wave of nausea, Asil leaned out of the carriage. With nothing in his stomach, only yellow bile spilled out. His insides clenched as if in spasms. His throat was coated with a sour, acrid taste, making him queasy every time he swallowed. As Asil, with wet eyes, slowly reduced the carriage’s speed, a rustling sound came from the cargo area, followed by a small voice rising above the sound of the wind.

“Brother…”

Graim was poking his head out, calling for Asil. Asil hurriedly reached out, pulling Graim to sit beside him. The small body burrowed into his side. Asil whipped the reins with one arm and tightly embraced Graim’s back with the other. Soon, Asil’s chest was soaked with warm tears. Graim, trembling silently, wept, his sobs carrying familiar names as he woke to the sight of his family’s pale, lifeless faces.

“It’s okay.”

Asil murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of Graim’s head. Lowering his lips several times to the warm, childlike cheek, Asil looked down at the only kin he held in his arms. The moment he saw his youngest brother’s tear-streaked, trembling face, Asil realized he had been wasting his emotions on something utterly worthless. What was Valery, after all? He was merely a personal grudge. Just that and nothing more. And that grudge had been fully settled when Asil used and betrayed Valery in their deal.

“It’s okay.”

Asil swallowed dryly. Looking back, he saw he had already left his hometown far behind. He whispered a farewell to the land that had cradled him for twenty years. It was a place he would never see again. Though certain he would never return in his lifetime, Asil resolved not to cling to regrets. There was nothing left there for him.

To begin with, Valery had been nothing to him… Nothing left behind, nothing abandoned.

Driving diligently southward from Maron for two days would bring one to Nian, the domain governed by Asil’s uncle. Asil decided not to head straight to Nian but to rest for a night at a small inn. The beast pulling the carriage, frothing and collapsing, refused to move its legs any further. Graim, exhausted by hunger and thirst, was also a concern. A few more hours of travel would reach his uncle’s domain, but moving immediately was impossible.

As he pulled the carriage up to the front of a rustic inn built with red bricks, the innkeeper slowly walked out from the door. It was an inn in a remote location. With no regular patrons passing through, guests were rare, and the innkeeper glanced at Asil with a face full of curiosity.

“Well, what brings a young man all the way out here?”

“…I’d like to stay for a few hours. Do you have a room?”

The innkeeper, eyeing Asil’s appearance, narrowed his eyes and nodded. Though Asil’s bedraggled state was suspicious, the sight of a child clinging to his back instantly softened the innkeeper’s wariness. Noticing their contrasting curly hair, the innkeeper asked if they were brothers.

“No idea what brought you to this backwater, but you’ve clearly had a rough time. You look a mess.”

“Can we get some food?”

“I’ll prepare it right away. Follow me.”

As the innkeeper turned to enter the inn, Asil gently pushed Graim forward, gesturing with his chin to follow. The moment the inn’s door closed, Asil turned back to the carriage. Leaning into the cargo area, he gathered two small boxes in his arms. They contained the remains of his father and Olin, hastily burned the previous night. Asil, now carrying their bones tucked under his arm, sat on the edge of the cargo area.

Though the weather had turned chilly, it was still early autumn. He couldn’t bear to keep the decomposing bodies alongside Graim. While Graim slept from exhaustion, Asil had stopped the carriage briefly and, under the dark night sky, reduced his family to ashes. Breathing in the acrid smell of smoke, Asil had wept profusely. Sobbing quietly so as not to wake Graim, he sifted through the ashes to collect their bones, placing them in boxes that had once held gold coins. It felt like moving through a nightmare. Though he blinked constantly, unable to grasp reality, the sight of his fingers, red and swollen from sifting through hot ashes, forced him to accept the truth.

His father was dead, and so was Olin. He hadn’t even been able to give them a proper burial. After performing a cremation reserved for the bodies of criminals, Asil gathered their bones and placed them in the wooden boxes.

“What about Kana’s fate?”

She had been shot and fled, they said. Could an untrained civilian, barely seventeen, survive in such chaos? No matter how clever she was, she was just a frail, underfed girl…

“I couldn’t even give Kana a funeral.”

Feeling as though his chest was constricting, Asil couldn’t straighten his back. Gasping for breath, he collapsed onto the dark cargo area. As his spine straightened and his head touched the flat surface, his consciousness grew hazy. Asil didn’t let go of the boxes in his arms until his eyes finally closed. Clenching the wooden boxes tightly, he held on. Even after losing consciousness, Asil and his family remained connected, as if a single statue.

When Asil finally regained consciousness, the room was dim. He looked down at Graim, sleeping soundly beside him. Having eaten and washed, Graim’s sleeping face was clean and fair. The plan to stay briefly and leave had fallen apart. Even if they left now, they’d arrive in the early morning, and it was uncertain whether his uncle would willingly take them in.

His uncle was a rigid man who valued propriety and deeply despised the impoverished Richard family for marrying his sister and causing her early death. After her passing, he had cut off all contact with his nephews, not even responding to letters sent from the academy. All Asil hoped for from him was two strong horses and a sturdy carriage for food and shelter, but whether his uncle would provide them was uncertain.

“If I can get those, I’ll head straight to the southernmost region without looking back.”

After tucking the blanket over Graim’s restless body, Asil clutched his empty stomach and left the room. Descending the spiral staircase, he heard lively chatter from the dining area on the first floor. Stepping into the orange-lit dining room, the innkeeper, setting food down among a group of guests, raised his voice toward Asil.

“I nearly died dragging you into the inn! Why were you passed out in such a place?”

“…Thank you.”

“I put those boxes you were holding safely in the cargo area, so don’t worry… Are you eating?”

Without waiting for Asil’s response, the innkeeper placed a steaming bowl of potato soup in front of him. He didn’t ask what the boxes contained, suggesting he had already looked inside. Perhaps, hoping for something valuable, he had opened them, only to be shocked by the sight of bones. Asil began eating the soup with an impassive expression.

The innkeeper didn’t seem like a bad person. Not only had he carried Asil into the inn, but his tattered uniform had been replaced with crisp cotton clothes. Asil relentlessly spooned soup into his long-empty stomach. As he scraped the bottom of the bowl, his spoon suddenly stopped. Among the guests’ chatter, he had caught a familiar name.

“Is that… him?”

“They say so… Really… That man…”

Asil looked up, glancing at the table where the conversation was coming from. Several men, who looked like merchants, were passionately talking, their faces flushed with excitement, spittle flying. Even the innkeeper, clearing empty plates nearby, shouted, “Is that true?”

“I’m telling you, it is!”

A burly man with a thick beard slammed his mug on the table, yelling loudly. Asil stood and strode toward them. The closer he got, the clearer their conversation became.

When Asil finally stood behind the large man, looking down at the table, he heard the unmistakable name again. It wasn’t just a name Asil knew. It was one every imperial citizen had heard at least once. Even spies hiding in the empire might forget their own names but would etch this one into their hearts forever…

“Lord Valery is at Nian’s lordly castle!”

Valery Grekosha. It was him.

“What did you just say?”

Startled by the unfamiliar voice above him, the man, who had been shouting excitedly, turned to look at Asil.

“You didn’t even make a sound…”

“What did you say? Lord Valery is in Nian?”

“Y-Yes, they say so?”

Asil, speechless, stared at the man’s face. Hoping it was a lie, he scrutinized him, but it didn’t seem like baseless boasting. The man’s face, gleaming with admiration, spoke only of truth.

Reading the doubt in Asil’s gaze, the man raised both hands, insisting he had seen the man himself with his own eyes.

“I saw him on my way to deliver goods to the lordly castle! It’s true!”

“There’s no reason for him to be in Nian. With the war breaking out in Mailyn, why…”

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you hear the urgent report yesterday?”

“What… do you mean?”

“Young man, don’t you listen to the radio? Tsk, look at this!”

Glaring at Asil with disapproval, the man rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled newspaper. Spreading it out on the table, he gestured for Asil to look. Asil slowly read the paper over the man’s shoulder. The bold headline caught his eye first: “Kingdom Commander Martis Becomes a Headless Ghost.”

Next, he saw a black-and-white photo accompanying the article. Someone was holding what appeared to be a human head. Though only the back was visible, and the black-and-white image obscured the hair color, it was unmistakably Valery. The large hand gripping the head’s hair, the broad back, thick thighs, and towering height. He had truly survived.

“Lord Valery took that bastard Martis’s head, so the war’s as good as over. When you take down the leader of the pack…”

The man shouted something, but Asil heard none of it. He bit his lower lip so hard his front teeth nearly drew blood. For two days, he had been racing through remote areas, too busy to know what was happening. But it had only been two days. In that short time, Martis’s death had been revealed, newspapers had spread the news, and Valery had arrived in Nian.

“Why Nian, of all places?”

Asil pondered blankly for a few seconds before letting out a short, bitter laugh. There was no way Valery didn’t know that Nian’s lord was Asil’s uncle.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Asil didn’t answer, turning and leaving the dining area. The distance from Nian to here was only a few hours. If the man’s claim of seeing Valery was true, then Valery and Asil were existing within a distance where they could encounter each other at any moment. There was no time for this. He had to leave quickly. Going to Nian was out of the question, so should he head north again? No, perhaps crossing the empire to the east would be better. There should be a large city along the way. To keep wandering as long as possible, a sturdy camping carriage for food and shelter was essential. The horse and carriage he had now wouldn’t sustain a fugitive’s life for long.

“Young man.”

Asil, hurriedly climbing the stairs, stopped at the sound of a voice behind him. The innkeeper, following from the dining area, looked up at him.

“You’re a soldier, aren’t you?”

Having changed Asil’s uniform himself, he was asking with certainty. Asil didn’t deny it, instead staring back at him. What was his intent? Had he realized Asil was a fugitive? Perhaps an order had come to the inn to report suspicious individuals. As Asil clenched his fist, ready to knock him out if needed, the innkeeper let out a low groan and climbed the stairs.

“Deserter, huh?”

“Why do you ask?”

“No one would bolt out like that upon hearing news of Lord Valery unless they were. At first, I thought you had some circumstances…”

It was fortunate he hadn’t mistaken him for a spy. But whether the innkeeper would let a deserter go after hearing the truth was questionable. To imperial citizens who viewed soldiers as the highest honor, deserters were the ultimate disgrace. He might overlook Asil’s escape out of fear of immediate attack, but the moment Asil left, he would surely report the desertion. If asked for a description, he’d answer immediately: a tall young man with curly black hair, accompanied by a young brother who looked just like him.

Knocking him out was the best option. Asil reached to strike the back of the innkeeper’s neck.

“I was a soldier too.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected response, Asil missed his chance to attack. It was utterly surprising because the innkeeper didn’t look like a soldier at all. He looked born to be an innkeeper, with that kind of appearance.

“A deserter, no less. I know your fear. Especially if you were a soldier under Lord Valery, you’d be even more terrified.”

“…What are you saying?”

“My superior was a Grekosha too.”

Passing by Asil, the innkeeper walked heavily toward the room where Graim slept, continuing.

“I fled before even seeing a proper war. Never met Grand Duke Grekosha in person, but… Your face, pale as a ghost, makes me think you might’ve been a soldier quite close to Lord Valery.”

“…Are you going to report me?”

Grabbing the innkeeper’s wrist as he reached for the door, Asil lowered his voice and muttered. The innkeeper scoffed, shaking his head.

“Consider yourself lucky. I’ve got a soft spot for kids.”

“What do you…”

“I’m saying I’ll pretend I didn’t see you and your brother.”

Shaking off Asil’s tight grip on his wrist, the innkeeper looked straight at him. Seeing Asil leap up with a stunned expression upon hearing “Valery” while hurriedly eating potato soup, the innkeeper was certain he was a fugitive. Covered in dust, passed out in the cargo area, clutching boxes full of bones—he’d thought Asil was a madman with a story, but he turned out to be a deserter. A pitiful young man dragging around a young brother like luggage. Unable to cast out someone who reminded him so vividly of his own past, he couldn’t bring himself to send Asil to his doom.

The punishment for desertion varied by degree, but the young man’s ashen face suggested something severe. If caught, he’d face a grim fate. The innkeeper let out a deep sigh. Facing Asil, who was tall but had the face of a child, he suddenly shouted.

“Manage your expression! Stop walking around looking like you’ve committed a crime, got it?”

After yelling, the innkeeper flung open the door and walked inside. Asil raised a sweaty hand to touch his cheek. His face, covered in cold skin, trembled faintly.

At the main road leading to Nian, ten guards stood watch. It was just before dawn, with few passersby, but the guards remained vigilant, never letting their guard down.

“Another carriage.”

The loud sound of hooves echoed from afar. One guard, listening to the clattering carriage, aimed a flashlight down the road. Soon, a carriage pulled by two strong horses came into view.

“Stop right there!”

The guard shone the light on the driver’s seat. A man, wearing a deeply hooded robe, tightly gripped the reins.

“What’s the matter?”

“What’s a guy like you doing moving around at this hour? You don’t look like a merchant.”

Merchants who traveled markets often moved busily before dawn, but the cargo area attached to the carriage was too small to carry goods. The guard waved the flashlight up and down, barking at the man to remove his robe.

Normally, there wouldn’t be so many guards at a checkpoint, nor would they stop every carriage to check faces, but today was an exception. It was an order from above. Not from the commander of the 8th Division stationed in Nian, but from that man who had come all the way from the distant capital.

The guard recalled the events of the previous day. Summoned to the lordly castle, the 8th Division soldiers, joking about the commotion, were struck speechless by the man they encountered. The hero of the tales heard hours earlier through newspapers and radio stood before them. Valery, the empire’s hero who had beheaded the enemy commander and returned with his body, was in Nian to search for someone important.

Why he was searching in Nian instead of Mailyn was a mystery, but the 8th Division soldiers merely bowed their heads. Seeing Valery in person was an honor in itself. Though he looked more haggard than expected, his striking appearance, familiar from photographs, wasn’t diminished by fatigue. Even when he irritably ran his hands through his hair or muttered to Nian’s lord with a furrowed brow, his presence shone brightly.

“There’s a bastard we need to find!”

Cain, Valery’s well-known aide, raised his voice through a megaphone. As the soldiers listened to the flood of orders, they couldn’t take their eyes off Valery’s face. Finishing his conversation with the lord, Valery, chewing on a cigar, roughly snatched the megaphone from Cain.

“How do you catch a beast for His Majesty the Emperor?”

Valery asked abruptly.

“You capture it without damaging its hide or fur!”

Someone seized the moment to shout quickly. Valery nodded slowly, scratching the end of his eyebrow with a fingernail. The careless gesture persisted stubbornly.

“Right, bring him back with all limbs intact! The goal is to capture him without a scratch.”

He shouted in a heavy voice, veins bulging in his neck, then pressed his abdomen and grimaced. A low curse from Valery crackled through the megaphone. His voice trembled faintly with evident frustration. Though he was often seen smirking or casually joking in public settings (mostly through newspaper photos for the 8th Division soldiers), never had he so openly displayed his emotions, so everyone watched him in silence. Valery turned and entered the lordly castle, the pale-faced lord hurrying after him.

Whoever the culprit was, Valery’s reaction suggested it wasn’t an ordinary crime. Successfully capturing him wouldn’t end with mere praise. It might even earn them favor in Valery’s eyes. A special order issued to all of Nian’s stationed soldiers was something only they could fulfill. If successful, the 8th Division might be promoted to the 7th, 6th, or even the 1st Division. If that happened, they could move their barracks to the capital and serve Valery up close! The guard, unconsciously letting his lips part in excitement, shouted again.

“Didn’t you hear me say to take off the robe?”

The white hand hesitating on the reins slowly rose and removed the robe. The guard, inwardly hoping for the appearance Cain had described, let out a disappointed sigh. Far from curly black hair, the young man before him had a shaved head, like some lowlife mercenary.

“What’s with your hair? Are you a mercenary?”

“It’s been my habit since I was a kid… Why do you ask?”

The young man grumbled, rubbing his head. The guard clicked his tongue and gestured toward the back of the carriage. Following the curt signal, the young man’s head turned as well.

“Fine, what’s in the cargo area?”

“My sister. She has a high fever, so I’m heading to the hospital early.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes. Why do you keep prying? Let’s hurry up!”

According to the higher-ups, the target wasn’t alone. He was traveling with a young brother and several bodies. The guard narrowed his eyes, slowly studying the young man’s face. Come to think of it, the fair, refined face, long limbs, and black eyes all matched the description. The sibling’s gender was different, and the lack of visible hair was a significant flaw, but otherwise, this man was closer to the target than anyone they had stopped so far.

The guard pulled out a radio and brought it to his mouth, intending to report a suspicious individual. But before he could hear the crackling signal, a small cough came from the cargo area. As a pained whimper followed, the young man, who had been facing off with the guard, leapt up and rushed to the cargo area. His frantic dash seemed suspicious.

“Jin!”

The young man lifted the tarp covering the cargo area and climbed inside. The guard, hurrying after him, found a young girl with a flushed face, feverish from illness. Barely past ten years old, the red-faced child clung to her brother, gasping. The young man carefully supported her head, checking her forehead for fever. Her long, strikingly soft red hair scattered under his touch.

The young man, calmly checking the girl’s fever, abruptly turned to glare at the guard. His pale, frightened face twisted into a fierce scowl as he shot a sharp look at the guard.

“This isn’t the time for this! Are you not going to let us through?”

“Well, the situation is what it is…”

“Don’t you know how dangerous a fever is for a child? If my sister dies, are you going to take responsibility?”

The young man let out a shrill shout, his lips trembling as he swallowed dryly. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple clearly revealed the tension he was feeling. The guard, who had nearly lost his young daughter to a rampant fever six months ago, unconsciously stammered, his lips twitching. Hearing his colleagues shouting from outside the cargo area, asking what was going on, the guard let out a heavy sigh and stomped his feet. He wanted to let them go, but he wasn’t alone, and he couldn’t act rashly. There were nine pairs of eyes watching. If he let them pass and something went wrong, all those eyes would blame him.

“This is tricky. I can’t exactly explain the details to a civilian…”

“Cough! Cough!”

Before the guard could finish, as if challenging whether he’d still refuse, a series of loud, throat-tearing coughs erupted. The girl burrowed into the young man’s side, gasping for breath with a sound like she was on the verge of death. Her breathing, sharp like the sound of cutting wind, made even the guard’s fingertips grow cold.

“Hey, you.”

The young man tightly embraced the girl’s waist, muttering menacingly. Even in the midst of this, his large hand continued to rub her back. As if shielding her from the guard, he slightly turned his body, completely covering his sister as he sat.

“If anything happens to my sister here, I won’t let you off.”

“I-I want to let you go, I’m telling you! Geez!”

Somehow, the situation had reversed, and the guard found himself making excuses. He suddenly noticed that the radio had gone silent. The crackling signal had stopped, and the division commander’s voice came through.

— What’s going on?

“Uh, well…”

The guard, who had faithfully followed the order to immediately report any suspicious individuals, glanced nervously at the siblings sitting in the cargo area, sweating coldly. The division commander shouted again, demanding to know what was happening. Succumbing to the pressure from his impatient superior, the guard rubbed his face and spoke.

“We found a suspicious individual. It’s different from the description since it’s a pair of siblings, but, well… Oh, and they don’t have curly hair either…”

— What are you talking about? Which regiment are you from, you bastard? Not even stating your rank and name—what are you playing at!

“N-No, that’s not it…”

A stream of curses poured from the small radio. As the guard shrank back, his lips frozen and only twitching, a few seconds later, a voice calming the agitated division commander came through.

— Calm down. Is this really the time to get so worked up in such an important situation?

— Then you take the call, Lord. I can’t make sense of what he’s saying. Either I’ve gone deaf in my old age, or this idiot’s stammering like he’s lost his mind. It’s a good thing Lord Valery stepped away for a bit. If he saw the 8th Division operating like this…

The division commander, known for his fiery temper, was reacting even more explosively today. His impatience seemed to stem from a desperate desire to perfectly execute Valery’s orders in a short time. As the division commander grumbled and his voice faded, a calm, quiet voice followed.

— So, what’s the situation?

“Well, we found a suspicious individual.”

— If you’ve found someone suspicious, just bring them in. Isn’t that the job?

He was right. Whether the person matched the target or not, anyone suspicious should be brought before Valery to verify their identity. The guard looked at the young man with a pitying gaze. Though he felt sorry for the young man with his sick sister, they had no choice but to accompany him to the lordly castle.

He was about to suggest showing the sister to the castle’s physician. But the young man suddenly stood, snatching the radio from the guard’s hand. It happened so quickly that the guard was powerless to stop it. Despite closely watching the young man with sympathy, the guard found his hands empty before he could react. Staring blankly at the young man with a dumbfounded expression, the young man turned his back to the stunned guard and spoke into the radio.

“It’s me, my lord. Fred.”

— What…

“Don’t you remember me? Three months ago, I greeted you when I delivered supplies to the castle…”

— …

“Please clear my name. My sister’s sick, and I need to get her to a hospital, but the guard won’t let us through. You know me well, my lord. If you, who’ve known me since I was a child, don’t recognize me, who will?”

The young man rambled on without giving the lord a chance to respond. His casual chatter was as if he were speaking to a relative he hadn’t seen in years.

“My lord, you know my family well, don’t you? Don’t you remember my youngest sister? She’s sick with a fever, wasting away. My mother’s so worried. She always relied on and admired you, my lord…”

— You…

“For the sake of our long history, please say something. I’m begging you.”

The young man pressed his lips close to the radio and whispered. For a moment, no sound came from the other side. The silence was so profound it seemed the lord might have left his post. Only the occasional coughing from the cargo area echoed faintly. Unable to endure the silence, the guard reached out to reclaim the radio.

— Fred. It’s been a while. How could I not know you?

— …

— Who’s there? This boy has been running errands to the lordly castle since he was a child, so you can let him pass. The guard must have been confused by his appearance matching the description.

The lord raised his voice to the guard, concluding his words, and cut off the radio without further comment. The young man tossed the radio back to the guard, glanced up at the cargo area’s ceiling, and let out a slow sigh.

The 8th Division soldiers didn’t know everyone who regularly visited the lordly castle. Living in barracks at the border between Nian and other regions, they rarely visited the castle at the heart of Nian. Though the guards patrolled Nian, the only familiar faces in the castle were the lord, his family, an old butler, and a cook. Only the lord, who had ended the call, knew whether the young man was Fred or not.

With the situation as it was, continuing to detain the young man was pointless. The lord had vouched for his identity, and there was no stronger proof of innocence. While the guard stood with his hands idle, the young man properly laid his sister down and draped his robe over her feverish body.

With a shrug toward the bewildered guard, as if to say that should settle it, the young man stepped out of the cargo area and leapt onto the driver’s seat, grasping the reins. From his stride to the tilt of his head, everything was calm and natural. Though his hand, patting the horse’s face, trembled slightly, his expression showed only the anxious concern for his sister.

“Well, good luck.”

With those final words, the young man passed through the checkpoint and rode off. The guard had no reason to stop him, nor did he feel inclined to. His colleagues, murmuring and asking what happened, received only a shake of the head as the guard turned to face forward. By now, the faint dawn light was spreading, and another carriage was approaching from beyond the checkpoint. The guard aimed his flashlight at the driver’s seat.

Please, let the one Lord Valery so desperately seeks be in there. With a brief prayer, the guard rushed forward with his colleagues.