Circumstances of a Fallen Lord

The tallest building in the Viscount’s manorial estate was his mansion, followed by the estate church.

At the time Luisen and Carleton made their gruesome discoveries in the viscount’s office, on the roof of that church building, not too far from the mansion, Ruger and the ninth demon worshiper stood and looked over at their quarry: the mansion. The two waited for the ghouls to make their way inside the building, waiting for the right moment to enter the mansion without getting involved in useless and unnecessary fights.

The ghouls, controlled by the ninth worshippers, attacked the Eastern Great Lord’s soldiers. The soldiers couldn’t respond properly to the ambush, and the ghouls broke into the mansion.

The dark red fog shook violently, as if it were alive, as it moved towards the mansion. It was the color of blood–rich enough to stand out beneath the dark, night sky.

The Viscount Boton’s mansion was a trap set by Ruger and his group from the very beginning. The Viscount in the mansion was actually the twelfth demon worshiper, who joined on behalf of the injured eleventh demon worshiper.

Using the fake Viscount Boton, Ruger invited the Easter Great Lord’s party to the mansion. Considering the Great Lord’s temperament, he knew the lord would not be able to refuse. Then, Luisen, who was indebted to the older noble, would naturally, albeit reluctantly, follow.

In other words, they took advantage of how Luisen joined the Eastern Great Lord for safety against the young lord.

The Eastern Great Lord did more than they expected. According to the fake Viscount, the older noble incited a split in Luisen’s party–great news for Ruger.

However, kidnapping a duke in front of so many people was quite reckless even for a demon worshiper. As with all heretics, the demon worshippers wanted to hide in the shadows.

So, they had prepared large-scale magic: the dark red fog approaching the mansion.

When inside that fog, people will become unconscious. In that state, the demon worshippers will be able to manipulate their memories. For example, they had planned, in the past, to fabricate the memory that the Duke of Anies hadn’t surrendered…or that the Duchy had not recognized that Carleton was the first prince’s messenger and tied them up.

However, this time, they had to apply their magic in a broader area, and this ability required a tremendous amount of offerings in order to instill an intense nightmare in so many people. So they killed and sacrificed any living being they could find–the people that lived in this area, livestock, small birds, and even the insects in the grass.

Perhaps that’s why the magic fog was dark red, as if it were made from the blood squeezed from the denizens of this territory. The dead bodies of the inhabitants were then turned into ghouls. Now that the demon worshippers manipulated them, the ghouls turned into their own private army.

“Hahaha! Look at my troops! Even that stern Eastern Great Lord can’t raise a finger against me!” the ninth worshiper excitedly cried. He jumped and stamped on the church’s roof with his boots. Because he had deliberately muddied his shoes in order to insult the sanctity of the church, the pure white roof quickly became dirty.

“Hey you, aren’t you feeling it? ‘He’ is happy at this sight!” The ninth worshiper placed his hand on Ruger’s shoulder. Then, looking between the sky and the ground, he roared ecstatically.

Ruger frowned as he shook off the hand. ‘These people are crazy.’

Frankly, none of this–whatever the demon worshippers did or the devil they worshiped–mattered to Ruger. Furthermore, he held deep antipathy for the church as well.

Ruger was an illegitimate child. His mother gave birth to him while she was still an unmarried maiden. The church rejected everything except for a marriage ordained by a priest, so Ruger, born from an extramarital relationship, became a fatherless child.

The church called such children the devil’s seed. Thanks to this, he lived his whole life experiencing ridicule and hatred. He always held strong hatred in his heart for the so-called ‘God’ and the church.

When he was young, he thought that his situation could be overcome with effort. If he became the most honorable knight, he believed that the world would acknowledge him. Excellent skill, good manners, and a courtly code of conduct. He had no shortage in these aspects, but all his efforts were wasted due to his label as an illegitimate child.

In the end, the only way to rid himself of this burdensome stigma was for his biological father to recognize him as his child.

So Ruger, after finishing his knighthood training, found the man he knew to be his father and pledged allegiance to him…with the hope that one day, the man will legitimize Ruger. Underneath that man, he committed all sorts of dirty work. Killing people wasn’t even a hardship.

Still, even to someone like Ruger, the demon worshippers’ behavior was becoming increasingly difficult to witness. Not long ago, these people chatted and laughed normally, but now they had degenerated. The dead bit at the living; those who died in these attacks were resurrected again as ghouls. That endless chain–the undermining of human dignity and death… Ruger couldn’t help but feel instinctive disgust.

What was even more gruesome was that the demon worshippers genuinely enjoyed this work. More than anything, they wanted to instill hell upon this land.

‘Father, what must your liege be thinking for you to meddle with these lunatics?’

A small feeling of reluctance and resistance surged in Ruger’s heart. Anyone would feel the same if they retained humanity, but now he had come too far to follow those emotions. Ruger had no other path.

“I think we can slowly enter,” the ninth worshiper said.  Though it still seemed a bit early in Ruger’s perspective, the commander of the operation was the ninth worshiper. Silently, Ruger inspected his battle gear.

The grounds around the mansion were a complete mess. If all went according to plan, though, the world would become a terrible place with which even this pandemonium couldn’t compare.

It didn’t matter if the world was ruined. However, Ruger couldn’t help but think of Luisen. Could the young lord endure a hellish world?

For some reason, his heart was thrown into turmoil. Were his senses latching onto something ominous? Or was he simply feeling unease? Even he could not comprehend his own mind. One thing was certain, though: Ruger could not turn back. He could only advance towards that hell.

In order to carry out the orders he had been given, Ruger pulled himself together. He thought only of advancing towards his long-awaited dream.

Ruger and the demon worshippers mounted their dire wolves and headed for the mansion.

***

The dark red fog was on the verge of devouring the mansion.

Luisen and Carlton ran out of Viscount Boton’s office. Morrison, who happened to be looking for them, joined the two. The inquisitor had also felt that the place was strange and was looking around the house.

The situation was graver than they had imagined. Outside the mansion, the helpless soldiers were being attacked by the ghouls–a monster they had never fought before in their lives; even if the knights were experienced and the soldiers were many, it was only a matter of time before the protective barrier was breached. Despite the chaos outside, all the nobles were gathered in the banquet hall, enjoying their party.

Now that they grasped the situation, the three hurriedly shared their opinions on their next actions. They quickly came to a conclusion–they devised the best plan they could under these current circumstances.

Morrison cast a blessing on Carlton and Luisen. Then, with Carlton’s help, the young lord climbed the tree and crawled back onto the banquet hall’s terrace.

Luisen stood on the terrace alone, and Carlton remained in the tree. When Carlton couldn’t bear to leave and hesitated, the young lord soothed his ruffled emotions, “If all goes as planned, it will all be fine.”

“Still, I don’t want to leave my Duke alone.”

His voice was full of worry and distress.

Luisen reached out and caressed his cheek, “Then, return to me soon. I’ll be waiting.”

The mercenary overlapped his hand over the young lord’s and kissed him deeply. Morrison, underneath the tree, urged the two to be quick; they were running out of time and had no leisure to drag things out.

After Carlton descended the tree, he and the inquisitor dispersed to their respective positions.

Luisen gazed at the two’s disappearing backs for a long while before looking away. The stench of death wafted up from the mansion grounds.

The wind carried the sounds of screams, and a dark red fog came pushing towards him as if to devour him.

“It’ll all work out. It’ll be fine.” Luisen was scared, but he didn’t avoid the approaching fog.

Luisen turned around and entered the banquet hall. The bright lights within were somewhat blinding; the young lord felt like a moth rushing towards the fire.

He was worried that he may have been caught leaving the banquet hall, but no one was the wiser. The banquet was in full swing, and no one seemed vigilant. Not a single noble knew what was going on.

However, that ignorance was brief.

The music stopped, and a scream burst out. Everything was completely buried by the fog.

***

Ruger and the ninth worshiper entered the mansion without anything or anyone to interrupt their break-in. The two were protected by monsters like direwolves and goblins.

A man who manipulated corpses… A man followed by monsters…

Even the knights who took pride in dealing with hitherto unseen dangers did not dare to block their entry.

When they entered the banquet hall, the hall was filled with red fog as they had planned. All the nobles had fallen down, unconscious.

The only person left standing, the twelfth worshiper who posed as Viscount Boton, welcomed the two. “There’s no problem here–everything is progressing as planned.”

Ruger looked through the banquet hall, ignoring the twelfth worshiper’s words. No matter how crowded and obstructed his view was, it did not interfere with his search for Luisen.

Ruger, who found his ex-lord in a flash, strode up to him. Luisen lay still, as if he had fallen asleep. His figure was tranquil; it reminded the ex-attendant of a sleeping princess straight out of a fairy tale.

He sat on one knee in front of the young lord. He took off his gloves and swept Luisen’s messy hair behind the young lord’s ears. Then, with his index finger, he carefully stroked Luisen’s cheek.

Now that the young lord’s hair was in order and the young lord was adorned in a suit, old memories suddenly rose to the surface of Ruger’s mind.