Chapter 151: Cruel Truth, Cruel Fate

The snow fell relentlessly, as if it would never tire.

Deon Hart trudged through the heavy snowfall, his hood long since flipped back, his mind too preoccupied to fix it. He finally reached the entrance of his mansion, the commotion at the gates signaling his arrival.

“Marquis, you’ve returned…?!”

The gatekeeper couldn’t finish his sentence.

Deon Hart’s knees buckled. He collapsed, not out of deference to anyone, but because his body simply gave out.

Even knowing the reason, the surprise was unavoidable. One of the startled gatekeepers rushed to help, but Rememver, appearing as if from nowhere, stepped past him to reach Deon.

“Marquis.”

The head butler, also kneeling as he dared not look down upon his master, spoke in his usual aged voice.

There was nothing special about his tone, yet a strange sense of relief washed over Deon.

“Can you hear me, sir? Please, rise. It’s cold.”

“…Rememver.”

“Yes, allow me to escort you inside. Forgive my impertinence.”

Rememver reached out to support him, his hand pausing momentarily at the intense heat radiating from Deon’s body.

Only for a moment, though. He tried to help him up, but his efforts were thwarted as his master gripped his shoulders, clinging to him for support.

‘….’

The white hands clutching the butler’s shoulders trembled desperately. The tremor began in his hands, gradually escalating until his entire body shook violently.

Like a helpless child clinging to the only adult they knew, a desperate plea escaped his lips.

“Rememver, Rememver….”

“…Yes, Marquis.”

“I, I…!”

A strangled sob, barely distinguishable from a scream, burst forth.

Having already shattered in the Demon King’s castle, he thought there was nothing left to break. He was wrong.

Ridiculously, the reality of it all hit him now.

‘I killed my family.’

He killed innocent family members, or caused their deaths.

Whether from the fever or the unbearable emotions, his vision swam. His thoughts spiraled erratically.

Now he understood why he’d asked the Emperor ‘why.’ He had been hoping for an excuse.

It wasn’t some petty sense of betrayal. What kind of fool trusted a ruler who had to consider the good of all? Deon wasn’t that naive.

It was simply.

‘If it was all orchestrated from the beginning.’

The Emperor’s affirmation confirmed the Demon King’s account of the Duke’s actions.

Meaning, he had been meticulously planned and manipulated from the very start.

‘Wouldn’t that make me too pathetic?’

Being opportunistically used when circumstances aligned was one thing, but having the circumstances created for your exploitation was another.

Among the countless instances of ‘use,’ the eight-year war was the one he believed wasn’t a calculated move. He’d chosen the ‘destruction of his family’ and acted upon it himself.

‘What kind of life have I been living…?’

Could even that have been someone’s intention?

The tips of his fingers grew cold.

Seeing his precarious state, Rememver stopped observing and, with one hand patting his back, used the other to support his nape and lift him slightly.

Thud.

“……!”

Amidst the gatekeepers’ silent shock, Deon Hart’s eyes fluttered closed.

Rememver, supporting the limp body, glanced at Dan, who had been watching the scene unfold nearby.

“Take him to his room.”

“…Yes.”

Despite his bewildered expression, Dan strode forward and scooped Deon into his arms.

Rememver watched him carry Deon into the mansion before turning back to the dumbfounded gatekeepers.

……The aftermath still needed managing. To break down and sob on his knees in such an open space…

“You… saw nothing today. Understand?”

“Yes… yes!”

***

Deon Hart barricaded himself in his room. He refused to eat.

He wouldn’t come out, and the food Rememver cautiously brought in remained untouched, eventually having to be taken away. Yet, somehow, he found the energy to periodically trash his room, the violent sounds echoing through the mansion and creating a tense atmosphere among the staff.

He even tried to choke himself or turn sharp objects on himself, requiring Rememver to intervene urgently on several occasions.

Today was no different.

“Marquis, surely this is enough. Please, have pity on this old man and stop.”

“Hic, hiiiic—.”

Rememver, alerted by Deon Hart’s personal attendant, rushed in to stop his master from plunging a shard of glass into his forearm.

Weakened by days without food, his body offered little resistance, easily restrained.

“Marquis….”

He knew Deon was deliberately avoiding vital spots, unable to bring himself to truly die. But as a loyal butler, he couldn’t stand by and watch his master harm himself. Rememver sighed softly, almost inaudibly, as he took the sharp glass shard from Deon’s grasp.

“This old man doesn’t know what you saw, what you experienced, or what you learned.”

“…….”

“But you can’t continue like this forever. Not when you don’t even truly wish for death.”

He didn’t know what tethered him to life.

Undoubtedly, whatever he had witnessed, or the truth he had uncovered, both drove him to wish for death and simultaneously chained him to life.

“So, please, come to your senses. You must live on.”

“…….”

Dan watched silently from the hallway outside the open door. The state of the broken Deon Hart was truly a sight to behold. Shocking.

‘I came to follow a calamity.’

What aspect of him suggested disaster?

He’d expected the trauma to reveal his calamitous nature, but the current Deon Hart was merely a weak human consumed by his emotions, thrashing about. There was no sign of ‘calamity’ anywhere.

He’d decided not to doubt.

‘Did I misjudge him?’

Watching this, confusion naturally arose.

Meanwhile, Rememver laid the calmed Deon on the bed and quietly closed the door as he left.

Even after Deon Hart disappeared from view, Dan couldn’t move easily. Not until Rememver, growing impatient, urged him to leave.

***

The confusion resolved itself sooner than expected.

Whether it was the butler’s words or not, a few days later, Deon had recovered enough to leave his room.

“You’re out already? Shouldn’t you rest more?”

“…….”

Deon ignored Rememver’s concern and stood before Dan.

His face was gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes, as if he’d lost weight. His entire demeanor was different, and his expression was chillingly blank. Dan flinched momentarily, then tilted his head, sensing Deon had something to say.

“Marquis…?”

“…….”

Rememver, glancing between the two, discreetly led them to a nearby room suitable for a private conversation. Left alone, Dan shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence.

“Are you feeling a bit bet—”

“What am I to you?”

“…….”

Deon, who had been silently observing him, finally spoke.

“Why do you follow me?”

He knew Dan’s purpose was to follow him, that he desired his darker side, not his gentle one.

However, he had no idea why. Deon decided to base his next actions on Dan’s answer.

“…….”

Dan, meeting Deon’s sunken gaze, fell silent.

Since following him and learning various things, Dan had realized he had a knack for rhetoric. He could easily craft a flattering answer to this question, but…

…he simply didn’t want to.

“The person who ruined my life.”

He offered the raw, unfiltered truth.

Deon seemed taken aback by the unexpected answer, falling silent for a moment. Dan offered a gentle smile.

“And the person who will help me achieve my goals, the goal itself.”

He resented him, yet he liked him.

He knew Deon wasn’t to blame. The fault lay with the shaman grandmother who spoke carelessly, the villagers swayed by her words, and ultimately, the spiteful adults who wished for his death.

‘But if you hadn’t existed, my life would have been relatively peaceful.’

You wouldn’t have appeared in the future foreseen by the shaman grandmother.

So, he resented him. Yet, Deon was also the key to retaliating against those nasty adults, which he liked. The short time he spent with Deon, establishing a trading company and encountering all sorts of vile individuals, only intensified that feeling.

‘Calamity? Good. Very good.’

Let this rotten world be destroyed.

“…Come with me.”

After a moment of silence, Deon reached out his hand.

Dan was his only true follower, not someone from the Emperor or the Demon King. Having someone like him around wouldn’t be bad.

Seeing the crimson glow in Deon’s eyes, Dan’s lips curved into a faint smile.

Instinct screamed. This was the ‘calamity’ he had been longing to see.

……Ah.

‘Even with all the excuses I can come up with.’

I’m destined to be captivated by you, just as the shaman predicted.

Yes, in truth, all the reasons I conjured to follow ‘calamity’ were quite flimsy. It seems fate truly exists.

Otherwise, there’s no way I’d feel this overwhelmed by your current state.

He took his hand.

Deon’s lips stretched into a dry smile.

After his rampage in the room and the subsequent scolding from Rememver, he’d been agonizing over what to do.

‘What can I do to atone for what I did to Cruel?’

How could he atone to his hyung and suppress the urge to die? After a moment of thought, the answer was clear.

‘Revenge.’

[You must live on.]

[…Yes, I must live on.]

Let’s get revenge.

Kill them all.

***

Then, Deon Hart asked,

[You and I, have we met before?]

Dan nodded.

***

Early in the eight-year war.

Dan was traveling with the village elders, following the shaman grandmother’s instructions.

She had said the village would soon be engulfed in flames, so they had to relocate quickly. Young Dan only remembered ‘having to move’ and vaguely paid attention to the rest.

During a rest stop on their journey,

Dan, like other curious and energetic children, stealthily got up to explore.

As an orphan who lost his parents at a young age, no one noticed or cared when he slipped away.

How far did he wander through the grassy fields? Not far from their starting point, he encountered a bloodied young boy.

“…….”

“……Cough.”

He was spitting up blood.

Instead of speaking rashly, Dan cautiously assessed the other boy.

White hair and red eyes. Unnaturally pale skin. His eyes were shaped like a cat’s, and as if he were a feline, he glared at Dan, bristling like he was about to hiss.

“…Who are you?”

“…….”

Yeah, he wouldn’t answer…

Instead, he looked down at the boy’s attire. It was difficult to discern due to the blood, but it didn’t take long to recognize. He’d seen that uniform from afar before.

The uniform of a common Imperial soldier.

The realization made Dan blurt out without considering his age.

“A soldier? A little kid like you?”

“…….”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, filled with disbelief and annoyance.

“Want to die? Get lost.”

“…You have a sharp tongue.”

“Want me to show you how sharp it is? You little shit, if you don’t get lost right now, I’ll cut off your limbs and rip that light mouth of yours….”

“Stop, stop! I’m sorry, my bad.”