Chapter 55
Episode 55. The First Person Who Comes to Mind
2023.10.25.
Blair swung the wooden plank a beat late, but the man easily caught and tossed it aside. The force sent Blair—who had been gripping it—tumbling backward.
“Ugh……”
The man seized Blair's ankle as she tried to scramble away.
“I didn't untie your limbs for such cute antics. Adorable, that terrified look on your face.”
“Let go!”
Blair thrashed desperately, but it wasn't enough to shake off his grip.
The man pinned her legs with his own and pulled a small glass vial from his bosom.
“Behave, and I'll treat you nice. Good girl?”
Screaming, Blair flailed like a drowning person grasping at straws—until her hand closed on something. She swung it desperately.
“Argh!”
A sharp shard of plank raked across the man's eye.
“My…… my eye!”
The small glass vial slipped from his grasp and rolled away.
Seeing the blood dripping steadily, Blair's body began to tremble uncontrollably.
But she had no time to freeze. This was her chance to escape.
Summoning superhuman strength, Blair shoved the man away and fled the ruin.
“Don't you run!”
The man staggered after her out of the ruin. Before him lay a lake, flanked by dense forest.
In that brief moment, Blair had vanished.
“Ha, damn it……”
Muttering curses, the man scanned around. He had to recapture Blair and stage the scene before Wesley arrived.
‘No rowboat, so she wouldn't have gone toward the lake.’
As he glared at the lake, a rustle came from the forest. The man bolted in that direction.
As his footsteps faded, a stifled breath escaped from right beneath where he had stood.
“Hah……”
Blair had hidden under a massive tree root at the base of a small cliff leading to the lake.
Blair released the hand clamping her mouth. Her entire body shook, breath ragged.
‘Get it together. Can't collapse here.’
Blair hauled her trembling body up and fled in the opposite direction from the man.
* * *
Only red blood remained in the abandoned ruin where the two had vanished.
Herdin approached and touched the blood with his gloved hand. It was still wet. His eyes chilled coldly.
He quickly scanned the ruin.
As expected in a long-untouched place, dust blanketed everything. And atop it lay two sets of footprints.
One man's, the other from a small high-heeled shoe.
Maids wore low shoes for convenience. Thus, high heels belonged to noble ladies.
Herdin spread his hand to gauge the remaining heel mark's size.
The owner's foot was small. Similar to the ankle size he'd seen gripping Blair's in bed.
At the footprints' start, swept dust, bloodstains, and beside it, a discarded sharp plank shard smeared with blood.
If the man had attacked, he could have subdued this petite woman barehanded without such a crude weapon.
Thus, the shard was likely wielded by the woman.
‘The attack succeeded, letting the woman escape, and the man chased after…….’
Herdin's expression hardened as he pieced together the scene.
Wesley, standing beside him, panicked briefly at the deviation from his plan but soon spoke nonchalantly.
“I could've sworn I heard voices…… Must've been the wind—”
Before he finished, Herdin seized Wesley's collar and slammed him against the wall.
Baldwin Marquisate knights behind Wesley drew their swords in unison.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
Del Mark knights responded by drawing theirs. The tense atmosphere ignited into a powder keg.
Yet Herdin, who had sparked it, seemed unconcerned.
“This is your doing, isn't it?”
His voice carried the chill of the dark forest. Certainty and clear killing intent gleamed in his eyes.
Wesley flinched momentarily but bellowed defiantly.
“Wh-what are you saying? My doing?”
“Those who survive countless brushes with death on the battlefield develop instincts.”
In places where distinguishing foe from ally was impossible, rolling in the dirt hones the ability to sense them instinctively before thought kicks in.
Because hesitation meant a blade at your throat already.
“My instincts say you're the enemy.”
“……”
“Can you swear your innocence?”
Under Herdin's piercing gaze of conviction, Wesley swallowed hard.
But he had left no evidence linking him as the mastermind. The hired man had vanished too.
Confessing without proof was foolish.
“This is unfair treatment! I only wanted to help you and your wife after causing trouble before.”
Meeting Herdin's all-seeing eyes mid-protest, Wesley faltered. He wanted to look away on animal instinct toward superiors, but couldn't.
Wesley endured the gaze steadfastly, as if truly innocent.
Herdin released him with a cold sigh, shoving him aside.
A Baldwin knight hastily supported the staggering Wesley.
Herdin stepped toward the Baldwin knights still aiming swords at him.
“Stand down.”
Overpowered by his gaze and command, they retreated hesitantly.
Exiting the ruin, Herdin looked up at the sky. Sunset bled through the dense canopy.
Early spring days weren't long. Nightfall would drop temperatures winter-sharp.
Suddenly, his wife came to mind.
The foolish woman with weak lungs who coughed constantly yet feared fire enough to live in the cold manor.
“Knights.”
Del Mark knights assembled at his word. Mounting his horse, Herdin commanded.
“Find her. As fast as possible.”
The omitted object was obvious.
* * *
Night fell swiftly in the forest.
Blair clutched her clothes against the biting chill seeping through gaps and scanned around.
‘Where am I?’
Dragged unconscious, she remembered no route back.
She had fled blindly opposite the man, but saw no forest entrance. Lately, it felt like circling the same spots.
The encroaching darkness oppressed her terrifyingly.
Blair hurried to outrun it. Breath labored, legs aching like shattering, but stopping felt like surrender to the shadows.
“Haa…… haa……”
Her ragged breaths formed white puffs. Shivers wracked her.
‘Cold…….’
As Blair rubbed her freezing body, something caught her eye.
‘A cabin?’
Like the ruin where she'd been kidnapped, an abandoned forest keeper's hut.
Moss blanketed the roof and walls, long untouched.
Then, a distant beast's cry echoed.
After brief hesitation, Blair entered.
As expected, no human traces. Just a rusted pot, broken chair scattered about.
Judging staying inside better than wandering, Blair hunkered down.
Outside was freezing, and her heels, unwearable yet, had blistered raw, making walking impossible.
‘Someone will come looking if I wait.’
They surely were searching by now.
Blair rummaged for a blanket. Kidnapped sans outerwear, she wore only thin chemise and spring dress.
The sole find: a threadbare, hole-ridden blanket. Settling for it, she huddled in a dim corner away from the window. Then, something crunched underfoot.
“This is……”
A lighter. Faint sloshing suggested some oil remained.
The cabin had a fireplace, broken wood furniture for fuel, and now a lighter in hand.
But…….
‘Fire…….’
She couldn't light it. The mere thought choked her, vision blurring.
Blair clutched the useless lighter with shivering hands.
As if gripping it would warm her.
In her flickering, fading consciousness, a past night surfaced suddenly.
A cozy winter night asleep by the fireplace's warmth after ages, the man silently by her side.
‘You can't sleep if I light the fireplace alone.’
Recalling his voice unbidden, Blair mocked herself.
In this situation, the first person to come to mind is him…… Pathetic.
