A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 77. Midnight Cry

Chapter 77: Chapter 77. Midnight Cry

"Are those the scoundrels?"

"Yes, Count."

The air hung heavy, frigid, a promise of snow with a single divine breath. Count Mereloff surveyed the men standing before the mansion. Besides the conscripted soldiers, villagers who had volunteered to accompany him to Shayron were gathered somewhat awkwardly.

The butler closed the roster, offering a brief explanation. "They’ve been chosen for their good behavior and large families."

The road to Shayron was isolated. Like a ship on the open ocean, any mishap would surely spell disaster. Survival was paramount; the men were selected for their morality and responsibility.

Furthermore, in exchange for their hardship, they would be granted a small fee and permission to peddle food individually. Count Mereloff was conducting his inspection when...

"Count! Count!"

Whoosh!

A figure darted from the direction of the main gate, dodging the guards. The man flung himself before Count Mereloff, begging without restraint. A deep frown creased the Count’s brow at the sudden disruption.

"What in God’s name is this? Since when has the mansion’s gate become so unguarded?"

"I’m C— Colin, from lower Hypentown! Please, include me in this trading party! I beg you!"

Seeing him groveling, head banging against the ground, Count Mereloff shot a glance at the butler. *What the hell is going on?*

"M-My apologies, Count. Guards! Remove him!"

"Count, I’m truly useful. You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? I’m a fast runner, and I’m stronger than I look. Add just one more young man, and we can haul back five or six more sacks of wheat. No, seven! Please, I beg you..."

Count Mereloff crossed his arms, looking down at the prone figure of Colin. The man was clearly eager, and as he’d said, young. The Count couldn’t fathom why he’d been excluded.

The butler hurriedly added, flipping through the roster, "He has a large family, but he’s unreliable, a regular at the private gambling dens. A criminal record, too."

"That was when I was young and foolish! I have four siblings, older and younger, and my parents hawk firewood every day. Honestly, I’m the only one in the house not pulling their weight, so if you give me a chance, I’ll work my damnedest!"

Count Mereloff considered this, then asked, "Were you born a resident of the Mereloff estate?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Include him."

"Count! I must protest..."

"How could he possibly cause any trouble, trembling like that, begging for work? The soldiers will be accompanying him; there’s nothing to fear. However, your fee will be halved. No objections, I presume?"

"Oh, no, sir. None at all. Thank you!"

Every able body was desperately needed. As Colin had pointed out, adding him meant more supplies. No reason to refuse. And half the fee? A steal!

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"That’s quite enough. Butler, let’s finish up and get inside."

"Yes, sir. As you wish."

Colin, as if granted a reprieve, bowed low once more. Count Mereloff mistook his actions for the desperation of hunger.

*’I’m saved. Damn it, I’m saved. If I hadn’t gotten in... those bastards...’*

He found Colin’s display of gratitude pathetic. What a wretched state his family must be in, for him to be so overjoyed at landing a simple job.

"He looks like he’ll be a hard worker, wouldn’t you agree?"

"...I’ll ensure he’s properly trained, sir."

The butler’s reply was reluctant. He couldn’t understand his master’s carelessness, no matter his authority. Greed, it seemed, clouded his judgment.

The butler seethed inwardly. That fool! He couldn’t believe the Count was so easily swayed. It wasn’t a matter of benefits versus risk; it was about gain versus security. Can’t he see that including this...this criminal jeopardizes the entire mission?

"You. Colin, was it?"

"Yes, sir. That’s correct."

"Stand over here."

"Yes, sir!"

The butler sighed deeply, gesturing for the jubilant Colin to follow. Colin was genuinely overjoyed; his life extended, his mission for Ian, a possibility.

"I’ll call your names, and you’ll come forward one by one to sign the contract. I’ll pay a portion of your fee in advance."

The butler unfolded the roster again, motioning to the temporary trading party. Colin carefully signed the contract, smiled sheepishly, received his coin, and quickly departed the mansion.

His retreating figure seemed utterly untrustworthy. The butler sighed in dismay, tucking the contract, bearing Colin’s handprint, into his pocket.

Clatter!

Colin passed two men smoking cigarettes by the roadside. The two exchanged a silent look, then smirked, puffing out smoke.

"He’s bought himself some time."

"So it seems."

The relief on his face was palpable. He had to have joined the trading party. Failure would have meant tonight was his last.

"Doesn’t this place feel completely different from the last time we were here?"

The men muttered, stubbing out their cigarettes. Romandro’s men, assigned to watch Colin. In just a few months, the estate’s once-vibrant energy had dissipated.

"Rumor has it the merchant company won’t be arriving."

"Which isn’t a rumor, is it?"

"Ah. Right you are."

High expectations had given way to crushing disappointment and anxiety. The people were on edge.

The men followed Colin, disappearing into the alley’s shadows. Soon, the man observing them also turned away: Clark, a servant at the Mereloff mansion.

Knock, knock.

Clark returned to the mansion, knocking on Lady Mereloff’s study door. Silence. He scanned the hallway, then quickly entered.

"Madam, a suspicious individual has joined the trading party."

"Oh? Excellent."

Lady Mereloff remained hidden, her voice a clear whisper.

"Clark, be careful as well."

"...Yes, ma’am."

"I trust you’ll do well."

"Don’t worry, ma’am."

Clark hoped for a glimpse, but she never emerged.

* * *

The ripped fabric had been patched countless times, the soles reinforced with wood. Four days out from Mereloff. Facing a wind that felt like it could flay their skin, the trading party sniffled, pulling their empty carts.

"How much farther do we have to go?"

"Hard to say. Comparable distance to the Hawan Kingdom, but the road is exceptionally treacherous. Looks like snow soon."

"Least all this sweating’s keeping us warm."

"Ugh. Sniff. This damn runny nose is going to be the death of me."

Despite everything, the atmosphere was relatively upbeat.

Even the soldiers were, after all, neighbors from Mereloff. They all knew each other, one way or another. Occasional laughter broke through the wind.

"Colin, where were you, anyway?"

"...Just had some things to take care of, here and there."

"It’s not related to that, is it?"

"What’s that?"

"You know, the thugs at the Green Roof Casino, the ones trying to kill someone in Bratz. Rumor has it it was Ian."

"The bastard son of the Count of Bratz?"

Colin flinched, averting his gaze. He could almost *feel* Ian watching him, even now, through some unknown power that had seeped into his very core.

"Oh, no. It’s got nothing to do with me."

"Right? Figured. If it did, you’d be six feet under, not here."

"Yeah. He’s the new head of the family now, isn’t he? What a turn of events. Born in a brothel, and now he’s got a title."

"A brothel?"

"Well, his mother’s a courtesan, isn’t she? Shows you what a man can do with a bit of... drive."

"A courtesan? Don’t think so. Heard she was just living there because of debt."

"Whatever. Who cares? It’s not about skill; it’s about luck. Pure luck. The Count’s head getting chopped off after he crossed the Great Desert? Just the beginning. He made it back alive, so he’s used up all his luck!"

"Sounds like wishful thinking. Heh."

Their chatter faded into the background. All news to Colin. He’d joined without a second thought, lured by the promise of coin...

"Let’s rest here for the night. The cave will do."

"Good idea. We’ll lose the daylight if we go any further."

"Damn. These short winter days... It’s hard to get anything done."

They spread their sleeping bags in the small cave, positioning the carts to block the entrance. Cramped, yes, but it kept out the biting wind. A fire was lit, everyone slumping down, bone-tired.

"What if it snows tonight?"

"What do you mean, ’what if’? We’re screwed..."

"Hey. Scooch over."

"No room! You want me to be roasted alive?"

"I’ll move back."

Packed in tightly, Colin shifted towards the entrance. Chilly, but the best spot for what he had to do.

And a few hours later...

"Snooooore..."

"Mmmph... snort..."

When snoring filled the air...

Colin quietly got up, grabbed a torch, and stepped outside. Pitch black.

*’I’m sorry, everyone. But if I don’t do this, I’ll die.’*

He pulled an oil pouch from his inner pocket, tossing it onto an empty cart. He hesitated.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Gah!"

A voice, suddenly, cutting through the night.

Colin startled, but didn’t drop the torch. A man approached, expression impassive. The man’s gaze flicked between the cart, the embers, and Colin.

"I... I wasn’t doing anything."

"Weren’t doing anything? Colin, you bastard! Were you trying to set a fire, steal the gold? By all the gods!"

"...Huh?"

It was like a scene from a poorly written play. The man yelled, then snatched the torch, throwing it without a second thought. Flames devoured Colin.

"Wha... wha... what..."

Slash!

A blade sliced across his neck. Colin’s vision tilted upward, staring at the inky black sky. One by one, the others woke, rushing out, drawn by the commotion.

"...What’s going on, Clark? Ah! Fire! Fire!"

"Water? Damn it! Throw dirt!"

"Fire! Fire! Wake up!"

"Aaaah! He’s lost his mind!"

"That bastard started the fire!"

Even amidst the chaos, Colin could only blink. Mute. White dots, like stars, falling – the first snowflakes of the night.

’Who is that? I don’t know him, but he knows my name.’

Blood gushed from Colin’s neck, soaking the ground. The man looked down, Colin’s head lolling. Eyes wide open. Dead.

Meanwhile, Romandro’s subordinate hid in the nearby bushes, witnessing everything.

*’...Damn it. What the hell just happened? What’s that son of a bitch doing?’*

He wasn’t hallucinating from the cold, was he? The man, appearing suddenly, killing Colin, setting the carts ablaze. No point in staying. Romandro’s subordinate carefully retreated.

Clark glanced at the rustling bushes, then calmly shoveled dirt onto the flames.

"Save the carts!"

"Damn that crazy bastard!"

"Oh, God, it’s all burning!"

In the dead of night, screams pierced the air, louder than the wind’s howl.