TNLA 34

Chapter 34

In the dark night, clad in a black cloak with black hair, bathed in pale moonlight, he looked like a grim reaper.

As he trudged closer, Arlen stared blankly for a moment before snapping back to reality. She pressed her body against the railing, straightening from her crouched position.

She needed to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Why had someone like him—a duke, the right hand of the Second Prince—come personally for someone as insignificant as her?

Because she was the last direct bloodline of the Luthern family? But she wasn’t even an heir.

Or maybe, just maybe, some lingering childhood affection remained? …No, that couldn’t be it.

“It was the Requies side that invaded the mansion,” she remembered Ajin’s words. Kashien had been the one leading the charge, killing her parents, siblings, and acquaintances.

As he drew nearer, she pulled out a dagger.

It was the dagger Ajin had given her to protect herself, but if he saw it used this way, he’d be furious.

She pressed the dagger to her neck.

When he stepped closer, she applied pressure to the blade against her throat. A sharp, chilling sensation ran through her as blood began to trickle down.

He stopped and spoke in a low voice.

“Put that knife down.”

Ajin had said they wouldn’t kill her. He hadn’t explained why, but having worked with her father on many matters, he likely knew far more than she did. His words weren’t baseless.

Perhaps they intended to keep her alive to verify her identity and then execute her publicly. As the last direct Luthern, it might be necessary to make an example of her, to show that the Luthern house was completely destroyed, to subdue vassals who might resist.

Or maybe they had something to learn by keeping her alive. Since they’d already claimed her entire family, perhaps she knew of hidden family treasures, ledgers, or collaborators.

Either way, it would generally be preferable to bring her alive, but it wasn’t strictly necessary.

However, at the very least, her corpse would be needed. The last direct descendant of a house annihilated as traitors—proof of her death would be required. Even if they didn’t bring her alive, her dead body would suffice to prove the line had ended.

So if her life—or even just her dead body—had any value to them, perhaps a small negotiation like this was possible…

“Take only me.”

“What?”

She swallowed. Her mind was foggy, her body weak, her tongue clumsy. Her mouth was parched. But she had to speak. This might be her last chance.

“I’m the only bloodline of the traitors. You only need to take me.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Was it impossible? She bit her lower lip, lowering her head, when finally, he spoke.

“You mean that bastard who dragged you here and abandoned you? You want me to spare the one who left you in this state, now?”

…Ajin hadn’t abandoned her. She had abandoned him. Even as he was dying, he had urged her to escape alone, to survive. She had betrayed that desperate wish.

But perhaps it was safer for him to believe she no longer held loyalty to him, to Luthern, or to the traitor’s family.

“Yeah, there’s no need to capture the one who threw away the traitor’s bloodline.”

Bitterly, she repeated the word “traitor” herself. Her family, her parents, her siblings—they weren’t traitors.

She felt dizzy, on the verge of collapse. But she had to finish what she was saying.

“I am a sinner.”

She took a breath. By their definition, she was a sinner.

“I won’t resist. I’ll go with you.”

Her only possible act of defiance would be slitting her own throat and falling below, but…

The Requies knights had stormed the duke’s mansion. The man himself must have been involved in the massacre at the palace.

He was a knight no one could challenge. He must have personally wielded a sword, killing the nobles present.

She looked at the large hand that had killed her family and acquaintances.

When she was a child… it had been small, scarred, and she had often applied ointment to it.

Now it had grown, and with that same hand, it had drenched in the blood of those she loved most.

Her heart felt shattered, crumbling into dust.

She didn’t want to plead with the one who had betrayed her childhood friendship so brutally, who was the enemy of her parents.

Yet, if relying on sentiment could slightly increase Ajin’s chance of survival…

She struggled to speak.

“Please.”

A moment of silence followed.

He didn’t respond.

Was it so difficult to spare a single knight? Or was her body worthless as a hostage? But Ajin was just a common knight, without a family or power. Sparing one shouldn’t be so hard.

Dizziness washed over her again.

Her vision blurred; her head spun. She nearly toppled over the railing but managed to steady herself. The wound on her neck worsened with movement; blood flowed faster.

But she couldn’t fall—not yet…

“Understood.”

Finally, the response she longed to hear. She lifted her head.

“Really?”

“I promise. I’ll take only you. So put the knife down and come here.”

“Is it a promise?”

“I promise.”

No signature, no document. No guarantee of keeping it.

But Kashien was a knight. A terrible enemy of her family, yet still a knight. A knight who valued honor and loyalty above all would not break a promise, especially one repeated three times.

She wanted to believe it.

She wanted to believe that the last deal she had made had some value.

That he, that Ajin, would be safe.

If surrendering her fragile life could save him, that would be enough.

Her strength left her hand, and the dagger Ajin had given her slipped beneath her legs, swallowed instantly by the dark river, leaving no trace.

It was done. She had done what she could. She no longer had to endure.

Now, just…

Go over there…

Just…

Her body collapsed.

7. Shattered

Clatter. Clatter.

Her body continued to shake.

Arlen tried to open her eyes in the haze but the world blurred, and she gave up, closing them again.

This continuous motion—likely inside a carriage.

If she opened her eyes fully, she could see, but she had no strength. A relentless headache tore through her skull, and her entire body ached as if pierced by thousands of needles, leaving her unable to focus.

Where was she? What had she been doing? She needed to get up…

Thoughts swirled, but she could barely lift her eyes.

Someone’s hand brushed her hair.

Mother? On the way to the capital? No… this touch felt different from her mother’s…

She lost consciousness again.

After several moments of fading in and out, she resolved to pull herself together. She had to get up; they had a long journey ahead. She couldn’t keep lying down.

She opened her eyes.

Everything was blurry, but after blinking several times, shapes began to form.

She was lying in a carriage she had never seen before.

Still disoriented, she remained on a thick blanket on the floor, staring blankly.

Clop. Clop. The sound of horses moving came from outside, shaking the carriage.

Sounds from outside reached her ears—muffled, as if submerged—people murmuring, passing through crowded streets.

“The Grand Duke’s carriage, make way!”

The shout snapped Arlen back to semi-consciousness.

She forced herself upright and reached the window.

She slid it sideways, just enough for a narrow view.

A familiar, yet strange landscape… It was Valrun, yet the people looked unfamiliar. Everyone was tense, surrounded by soldiers and knights.

And a terrible stench.

She flinched at the scene outside, drew back, and then pressed against the window again.

The square she had passed countless times. Musicians had played around the fountain, vendors crowded the area, and people moved energetically, radiating warmth.

But now…

Rows of stakes encircled the fountain, each adorned with names and crimes. Heads were mounted atop them, rotting grotesquely. Ravens gathered in swarms above, picking at them, while dark brown stains below—likely blood—dried thickly.

Familiar faces, recognizable faces, now decomposed beyond recognition.

And…

In the middle of this hell were those she had loved most.