Chapter Text
Four men beat a beggar in an alley. You could see the scene with just a slight turn of your head, but all passers-by didn't pay attention mainly because the four men were particularly infamous for being hot headed and useless good-for-nothings, and the beaten man was just a nameless beggar.
The unlucky beggar, Louison, shrank his body and endured the violence. His body resembled a mouse that crawled out of the sewers. He didn't dare to move a muscle. He knew that the longer he resisted, the longer he would be beaten. So, he closed his mouth tightly and covered his head with both arms. Frail, cold body trembling.
"Oh, what an intense guy. Not a single cry."
The gangsters gradually lost interest. There had to be some kind of reaction for the beating to be satisfactory, hitting a man who only cringes sucks the joy out of it.
"So boring. I’d rather play cards."
“Right."
"Dirty bastard. Do something better with your life."
The man spat on Louison’s trembling back and, laughing, left the alley.
As soon as they disappeared, Louison stood up while clinging to the wall. Limping on one leg, he slowly moved forward. Perhaps the delinquents hit something vital, as every time he put weight on his foot, he felt a dizzying agony. He scraped the snow on the floor and used it to clean his bloody mouth.
Damn bastards...
It was these useless people who approached him first, "If you follow us, we will give you some money in exchange." Louison had been starving for two days. He begged all day and did strange jobs, but he still couldn't buy a mere serving of bread. With that bread, he could last a few more days. The snow was already falling—if he didn't eat today, he would certainly die. Biting back with disgust, he had no choice but to accept the offer.
However, those men soon began to act as they saw fit, grabbing his hair and pretending they didn't know him. When Louison asked for the money they promised him, they babbled some nonsense along the lines of, "Aren't you enjoying this? Why do you need to be payed?" Suddenly, they showed their true colors and began to beat him up. Louison realized dully that they didn't intend to give him anything from the beginning.
"Fine! I don’t care about the money, just stop hitting me!” He cried.
When the abuse continued, sniffing, Louison swallowed down his tears. The places hit by the delinquents pulsated. His whole body hurt, and his eyes blurred when a fever began to come over him. More unbearable than body pain, however, was the humiliation.
In the past, these people would have never dared to lay their hands on me…
Louison lived his whole life without knowing hunger or difficulties. His father was the Duke of Anness, and his mother was a princess. He was born as the Duke's only son and succeeded him early. The fertile plains of the South were all his. He was one of only four land-owner lords in the kingdom. Countless vassals were under his command, and he had the rights to tax them and put them on trial.
As for the southern part of the kingdom, he had the same authority as the king. As one of the great lords, he had the authority to host royal coronations and was able to marry the royal family. Even the king treated him with caution, and the queen made him a childhood friend of the crown prince, to make her son a strong candidate for succession.
He grew up playing in the palace as if it were his own home. He only ate and used the most precious and highest quality items in the world. Everything he wanted, he got.
Those were the best years of his life.
Now he had nothing, and no shadow was cast on his life.
Louison Anness was not a person that a neighborhood delinquent would dare scowl at. They were the kind of people who should have knelt at his feet in absolute obedience. They were insignificant beings whose lives and deaths were annulled by their words.
So, how…
How did I end up like this?
He knew how. Three years ago, in the spring, the king fainted. The king was so old and sick that everyone had already anticipated. The problem, however, was that the aging king went into a deep coma without deciding on a successor.
Why, of all things, did the king have two children at odds with each other?
The eldest, Ellion, was only the son of the royal concubine. But, as he was the king's eldest son, he was given the right to the throne. With his excellent education and character, he received praise for his royal nature.
Paris, the youngest, was the Queen's son. Thus, no one could find flaws in their right to succession. Although his intelligence and character could not be compared to Ellion's, his personality was favorable and left good impressions. All the powerful nobles supported him.
When the king collapsed, the second prince, Paris, gained control of the palace with the power of his mother, the queen. Shortly before that, the first prince, Ellion, fled to the north, where he had some influence, and began to raise a military presence. Following the two princes, the kingdom was divided into two factions, and a civil war began.
Louison and the Anness duchy were on Prince Paris’s side. There was no doubt about his loyalty, since Prince Paris was a relative and his only friend.
Prince Ellion was victorious in the civil war that lasted half a year. Prince Paris died during the war, and when the first prince took control of the Palace, the queen was officially arrested.
The king was on the verge of death, so the kingdom was practically in the hands of the first prince. He then brandished his iron apple against the partisans of Paris. Not even the Duke of Anness could avoid this fate. In the fall of that year, Carlton, given the title of “the prince's sword,” took the military to the duchy.
Although he is of humble origin, the first prince recognized his overwhelming military strength. He became an important figure for his faction. Among the nobles, he had more popular titles than "the prince's sword,” such as the prince's butcher, the slaughterer, and the noble massacre. He despised those who boasted of their luck to be born as an aristocrat and despised incompetent lords.
And Louison was both.
Louison was extremely frightened by the news of Carlton's arrival.
Carlton will kill me, he will kill me horribly. He thought anxiously.
The young man abandoned all work and confined himself to his room. He left all future battles to fate and drank nothing but alcohol. He was terrified and did not know how to respond properly—never in his life had he experienced a crisis like a civil war.
The peaceful life he enjoyed became a poison. Day after day, his terror grew. And when it became too unbearable, Louison made an irreversible decision.
Let's run away. Let's run far, far enough to where he can't chase me.
He packed his fortune and in the middle of the battle, he escaped from the castle. He had several vassal relatives and friends... surely one of them would take care of him. He believed that someone would help him. It was a silly decision made by a mind carried to rags by fear.
The world became cold as soon as he lost his stable past as the Duke of Anness. All his trusted friends and relatives turned away from him. The fortune he brought with him was taken by robbers and crooks, and the servant who came with him died while chasing the criminals. So Louison returned to the property, but it was too late—everything was already over.
Irritated at Louison’s escape, Carlton massacred the citizens and set fire to various parts of the territory. Still, it didn't relieve his anger. The heads of the vassals hang on the walls of the castle. Crows gathered to the smell of decomposing corpses, crying menacingly. The fire spread non-stop and destroyed the plains. The yellow and ripe wheat in the harvest season was devoured by the bright red flames. The black smoke filled the sky, and the remaining survivors cried in despair.
With this horrifying scene, Louison fled once again. He chose to flee because he couldn't cope with the tragedy he had caused. After that, he couldn't stay settled anywhere. He felt as if Carlton was chasing him. If he looked at the darkness, he felt as if he could hear the hooves of a black knight's horse.
When he slept, without fail he dreamed of staying in a golden field. The dead became ghosts that followed Louison. They would scratch at your face with their nails, cut your neck, and crush your face. With miserable and burned bodies, they would resentfully blame and curse him.
The world is cruel to a wandering and mentally unstable man. Due to the civil war and hunger the country was in trouble. People have become unable to take care of themselves. Everyday life had broken, and emotions such as sympathy and compassion became a luxury. Louison had to survive by his own strength. But even that he lacked.
Was I always such a pathetic and helpless person?
He was nothing after losing his family's birthright and wealth. Louison was not good at accounting and did not know how to cultivate, nor was he suitable for the job. He couldn't even fight.
He was ignorant of the ways of the world. There was nothing he could do, even if he wanted to make a living. His money ran out quickly. He sold his clothes, shoes, and even his hair...but quickly reached his limit. For the first time in his life, Louison experienced hunger. His intestines felt twisted, and the sky turned yellow.
It hurts. It hurts so much. Hungry, anything would be good. I want to eat something. Anything. His eyes rolled back. His pride taken, shattered in the face of hunger. Aristocratic refinement, morality, and values collapsed.
For a meal, he would even resort to selling his body and heart. He didn't hesitate to commit all kinds of crime, begging and stealing. The struggle for survival was what held together the country's existence and stability in the aftermath of war.
However, the food he ate in this state was so delicious that he could sob tears of joy. He cried while devouring an unknown soup that he wouldn't even have spared a glance at when he was a duke.
And with that, three years passed.
No trace of Louison’s time as a nobleman remained. His body was thin as a branch, and his complexion yellowish and pale. There were deep shadows under his eyes, making him look sick. For fear of being caught, he often crouched down and hid his body. Ultimately, this resulted in a curve back and a neck like a turtle.
Actually, it was a miracle that Louison, who only knew how to eat and play, lasted three years. They said that the ruined rich could only survive for three years and, for him, it was exactly three years. Now, he really had nothing. Even his beautiful appearance was ruined by a difficult street life, and no one wanted to help a face like that.
I'm hungry. I'm hungry. I'm hungry.
Vertigo arose inside him. Two days ago, he hid in the backyard of a family and stole and ate their dog's food. Come to think of it, this was your last meal. Due to the lack of food available to people, even dog food was too precious to be wasted.
I want to eat anything. Anything is enough, I just want to eat.
He now thought a lot about when he was a duke—the food he barely touched due to lack of appetite. A wide and long table filled densely with a variety of delicacies.
He shouldn't have left the food. He should have eaten it all without wasting a single bite. If he received this now, he would even lick the dishes clean.
He really missed that life.
Why couldn't he have appreciated the comfort of his life at that moment?
Eventually, Louison began crying. He knew that crying would only waste energy. Even so, he couldn't stop the tears. The snowy path was slippery and his legs were unstable. In his disoriented state, he lost his balance and fell.
Thud!
The snow was cold, and his only clothes got wet. He was in a situation where he had nowhere to dry his clothes or change clothes. He had to get up quickly to be able to shake the snow and save the dryness he had. Otherwise, if he slept outdoors with cold and wet clothes, he could develop tuberculosis. But Louison didn't move. He didn’t have the strength to move. He sobbed with his head still stuck in the snow.
I should have died at that time. Even if I had died, I would have died as a nobleman instead of living like this.
Maybe then the vassals and the citizens would not have died. This is not a life worth sacrificing them all. I'm not useful anywhere, neither as a nobleman, nor as a Duke of Anness, not even for me.
If I'm going to die anyway... it would have been better not to run away…
Louison felt anguish when countless regrets pierced his heart. He was weakened to the point that his heart could not stand the intense pain. When his body cooled down, he felt his consciousness disappear. The stings of cold and hunger like knives slowly began to disappear.
Instead of dying like this...