Chapter 30: A Good Person

“Whenever I see Master talking to you, Lord Urien, I always wonder if he is the same person at all.”

Ella’s lips curved into a grin, but then, as if she remembered something from the past regarding Rodrick, a hint of fear appeared on her face.

“It’s really…”

Her voice as she continued to speak was a little weaker than before.

“It’s really hard to believe… Honestly, I barely interacted with Master and rarely even saw his face. Ever since I was younger, all I heard about him is how cruel and ruthless he is.”

She said in a daze, but she quickly came to her senses as she realized what she was saying.

“Of course, I don’t think that way now. After all, even when I first started working here, I’ve never seen him mistreating any of the servants.”

Ella had Belmanian’s blood running in her veins.

Her parents were Belmanian prisoners of war. She was born in Lustrand though, and she started working at the estate years ago.

This was a piece of information that Urien found at the end of the summer a little after that stormy night. He was reading a book on Belmania when he noticed her body started to tremble all of a sudden, so he asked her if there was something wrong.

Even for this continent’s standard, where war decorated its history, Lustrand had quite a few enemies. Then again, it wasn’t a particularly strange thing, as the kingdom shared its borders with many countries. In particular, Edel Duchy, Belmanian Kingdom and Seychell Empire, all had deep-seated grudges with each other.

Barely anyone would read a book about Belmania on Lustrand, hence why Ella looked so shaken when she saw Urien do it. It was probably why Ella told him everything, like how her parents were from Belmania, or how bad her childhood was when she had to hear everyone calling her ‘Bea’s Slave’.

Considering those, it wasn’t a wonder that she used to fear Rodrick a lot. It was hard for second-generation Belmanian like her to find employment in this kingdom, that was why many of them ended up working at the duke’s estate. When Ella first started working there, she found it hard to breathe whenever they heard that Rodrick returned to the estate.

Her fear towards him faded when she heard that he was actively hiring Belmanian. But, as she had never spoken to him, her distrust towards him lingered.

“All I heard was how ruthless and cruel he was…”

In her mind, he remained ‘a ruthless and cruel warmonger’.

“But then I saw him talking with you, Lord Urien. And it made me wonder how such rumors even started circulating to begin with.”

“Haa…”

Urien let out a sigh as he stared out of the window.

Rodrick was both feared and revered. Not only in this country, but in other countries too.

Hence why…

“Because it’s reassuring.”

Ella tilted her head.

Urien sipped his tea again before continuing in a calm tone.

“For the kingdom’s guardian deity to have such an image would be more reassuring. A crazed God of War would work better than a flawed human.”

People would rather rely on a heartless man who thrived in war rather than a man who was worn down by the constant wars.

Such thinking didn’t stem from pleasure or conviction, but rather self-preservation. In order to protect their own hearts, they took Rodrick’s away. That was it.

“It’d be best if the guardian deity turns out to be heartless. That’s all.”

“…”

Painting the image of a crazy warrior to Rodrick worked wonders in the war. After all, in wars, information and reputation were powerful weapons.

To Rodrick, those rumors could become a shield to keep things that he didn’t want people to know hidden.

“The fact that he isn’t exactly sociable either just helps the narration,” Urien added with a chuckle.

Ella kept her silence, her face looked serious. When she noticed his cup was almost empty, she poured more tea into it while saying,

“He was quite cold with you, isn’t he, Lord Urien?”

This was the same question she had asked before. Except this time, there was a hint of fear in her face as she asked that.

“Are you not angry at him?”

That stormy night seemed to have left a deep impression on Ella. She no longer felt any anger towards Rodrick and instead felt concerned about Urien.

Almost immediately, Urien answered.

“Nope.”

“You’re a good person, Lord Urien.”

Ella lowered her brows with a troubled expression. Meanwhile, Urien showed her a wry smile.

He turned his gaze towards the starless sky and spoke in a quiet tone.

“I am not.”

“That just isn’t true!”

The reflection of her face on the window that Urien saw looked serious.

She herself didn’t notice it and continued proudly, “You’re a good person. A really good person.”

But, Urien didn’t share the same view as hers.

‘…I am not a good person.’

‘I am a selfish, deplorable person.’

When he heard Rodrick tell him his secret, he thought…

‘Long time ago, on the night when I first killed someone…’

…That he was better than him.

*   *   *

That night. Urien was only able to fall asleep after midnight. But, that night, he had a terrifying nightmare.

In the dream, he was alone, opening a door to an abandoned building. He remembered it, a tower in the barony, built to monitor the border, but now left abandoned. Inside, a large, cracked mirror stood before him. The reflection of his face on that mirror was strangely distorted—sunken cheeks, unnaturally thin body, face without any emotions, and he strangely wasn’t wearing his choker. After that, he climbed the stairs. The further he went up, the darker his surroundings got. Spider webs and remains of broken chairs, crutches, and a painting of a faceless man were strewn all over the stairs he was climbing.

He climbed higher, and higher, as the tower decayed more, and more. At one point, the stairs had turned wet and he had a feeling that he shouldn’t climb any more, but he kept on going.

Just like falling, once he started climbing, he just couldn’t stop.

“…Haa—!”

Then, he woke up in a panic.

Clutching his pounding heart, he tried to regulate his breath. “It’s okay. I’m in the duke’s estate now,” he told himself as he let the lingering feelings of the nightmare melt away. Then, he looked at the clock. It hadn’t been two hours since he fell asleep. 

His brain understood that, but his heart didn’t. It kept asking him, ‘It’s night, but is it really?’ as if he lost his ability to perceive time. This was something that happened occasionally. Day would blur and feel like it was night, his old memories would turn muddy and it felt like they happened just yesterday.

After calming himself down, Urien left his room.

Since he figured that he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore, he grabbed a lamp and went to the shed to visit Marx.

The grassy field was quiet, as the night breeze blew over it. After entering the shed, he removed the lid of Marx’ box.

Right now, he should be sleeping on the bed made of leaves, but…

“…Marx?”

For some reason, he was awake.