IATVWAMOLS 100

100. Group Project – Despair and Hope (4)

“Wow, how can such a person even exist!”

After hearing about Baron Garrett, Seraphine’s face flushed red with anger.

Philip, too, couldn’t hide his look of disdain.

“I expected as much, but he’s truly a heartless monster.”

“I feel so sorry for the people of his territory. There must be more than a few who’ve died or been injured.”

I nodded.

“Now that this has reached my ears, I can’t just sit idly by. I’ll report this to the Imperial Court and demand His Majesty’s direct intervention.”

“What? To His Majesty himself?”

Philip jumped in shock, clearly not expecting such a drastic course of action.

“Yes. According to current imperial law, exploitation of commoners is prohibited. It’s only been tolerated by custom.”

“Ah… that’s true.”

The further a region was from the capital, the weaker the Emperor’s direct control became, and the more severe the abuse of absolute authority by local lords grew.

Baron Garrett was no exception.

Because of the Empire’s weak administration, incidents in distant fiefdoms were often left to the discretion of their lords. But that never made them legal.

If I pursued this, the Imperial Court couldn’t turn a blind eye.

“I’ll personally handle the lawsuit on behalf of the townsfolk. Sir Philip, will you assist me?”

“Eh? Ah, yes. Of course.”

Philip, still dazed by my sudden declaration, quickly agreed.

“Good. Then let’s first draft the accusation. Gather all the evidence possible—don’t miss a single thing.”

“Y-Yes, right away.”

This was my active response for the sake of completing the mission.

“Use whatever means necessary. Don’t hold back on expenses.”

And that part—was my own personal feelings.

Meanwhile, at that very moment.

Cayenne was wandering aimlessly around Baron Garrett’s mansion.

He hadn’t had a destination in mind to begin with, so it didn’t matter if he lost his way.

He simply wandered, again and again, trying to relieve the suffocating weight in his chest—as though running away from something.

He thought of the southern sea.

The emerald waves washing over sandy shores.

The tide rushing fiercely toward the beach only to retreat again toward the horizon…

Once, long ago, when he was very young, he had boarded a ship. That was when he’d been sold off to slavers.

Now, it was only a faded, hazy memory.

Yet that memory instilled in him one firm belief—

That he hadn’t been born in slavery, but had drifted into it aboard a ship.

That somewhere, he had parents. That he had a home.

That he wasn’t some isolated, lonely island, but a person born with solid roots.

He had clung to that thread of hope.

Amidst the living hell where corpses rolled like trash, that was the only way he could protect himself.

Five years, ten years…

Through endless neglect, barely surviving, hope was shattered and crushed countless times. Even so, deep in his heart, he still carried a faint wish.

Cayenne ran, and ran again, like the waves themselves.

“Huff, huff…”

His ragged breath tore through his lungs, the cold evening air stabbing at his chest.

No matter how deeply he inhaled, his mind remained in turmoil.

This was the first refuge he had ever found.

The first place that felt like his own.

He wanted to prove that his existence wasn’t meaningless here.

In some way—any way—he wanted to be of help to Roselia.

[I want to serve you for the rest of my life.]

[Wherever you go, of course I’ll follow. I swore my loyalty to you.]

[You told me not to cause trouble, so I gave it back in the simplest way I could. Was that not good enough?]

But in the end, his earnest feelings always seemed useless.

His chest ached.

The ring that had once brought him a fragile sense of security now tightened around him like chains.

[Master, can you see me?]

[There’s something I didn’t get to say yesterday—]

From the beginning, he hadn’t been able to overhear the telepathic exchanges between Roselia and the Night Persona.

But since they shared a body, he couldn’t help but feel fragments of it creeping in.

[Didn’t I tell you before? You’re too uptight, Master.]

[Worrying about trash like that is a waste of time.]

[So? Want me to get rid of him without anyone ever knowing?]

Once his abilities awakened, Cayenne could faintly hear the Night Persona’s words—

Even in the moments when Roselia and that personality conspired in secret.

[If I bring back the antidote, what will you give me?]

Even in the moments when it made playful deals with her.

That was how he discovered that Roselia, who seldom sought him out, was in steady contact with the Night Persona.

“…”

He bit down hard on his lip.

His heartbeat thundered so violently, it felt as though it no longer belonged to him.

He had already pushed his legs to the breaking point, running until he could taste blood in his throat.

At the same time, a gnawing emptiness overwhelmed him.

It wasn’t hunger. It was a hollow ache in his chest.

To him, she was the entirety of the world—yet in her world, there wasn’t a place for him at all.

The imbalance cut deep.

He had never truly possessed anything of his own. And yet, the fact that he couldn’t have her stabbed him with unbearable grief.

“Haa… haa…”

His breath was ragged, scraping his throat raw.

Roselia’s judgment had been correct.

He was the kind of person who only knew how to face things head-on.

He had no idea how to avoid or deflect. He could only endure the crashing waves of emotion with his whole body.

“…?”

Then—

“Do you really think that noblewoman will report me? Hm? Albert, you’ve seen her too, haven’t you?”

A faint conversation snagged his ears.

It was the frightened voice of a man.

Cayenne immediately recognized who it belonged to.

Baron Garrett. And the one with him… the butler chief?

After Roselia had left, they remained in the drawing room, speaking in secret.

Their muffled voices seeped through the closed door.

Cayenne cast a sound-amplifying spell and eavesdropped.

“Don’t worry, my lord. Nothing serious will happen. It’s customary for the court to avoid meddling in the affairs of distant fiefdoms. At most, you might face a fine or exile.”

“What crime am I guilty of, to be punished at all?”

Crash!

A heavy piece of furniture toppled with a thud.

“M-My apologies, my lord! I misspoke—”

“Shut your mouth! If you’re sorry, then stop that noblewoman at once!”

Baron Garrett raged furiously.

“…I should’ve gouged her eyes out back then.”

Cayenne didn’t hesitate any longer.

Mana gathered at his fingertips.

From the moment Roselia’s name left the baron’s mouth, the outcome had already been decided.

But then—

Bzzzt—!

The power that had enveloped Cayenne’s body suddenly vanished, his mana nullified.

“This…!”

The sensation was all too familiar.

As the chilling déjà vu crept over him, he began to turn—

Thwack!

A heavy club slammed into the back of his head.

For an ordinary man, such a blow would have been instantly fatal.

The knight who had struck him hurried to knock on the door.

“My lord, there was a rat hiding here.”

“What? Who is that?”

The door opened, and Baron Garrett stared in astonishment at Cayenne’s limp form on the floor.

“He seems to be one of the servants brought by the noblewoman. He was eavesdropping on your conversation.”

“W-What?”

“Perhaps the lady has already learned everything.”

The butler chief, Albert, fidgeted nervously.

Baron Garrett swallowed hard.

“…Was he alone here?”

“Yes, I kept watch the whole time. He was listening by himself.”

“Dispose of him quietly. No one must know.”

Albert’s eyes widened in shock.

“But my lord, if such a deed were discovered, it would be impossible to cover up—”

“Silence! Things have already gone too far. What else am I supposed to do? Eliminate him first. And move all important documents immediately—we don’t know how much the lady already suspects!”

“Y-Yes, my lord!”

Knights who had been waiting in his chambers rushed in, hauling Cayenne’s body onto their shoulders.

“….”

Blink, blink.

Cayenne stared ahead through a haze as his vision dimmed.

He had to stay conscious—

Normally, he would never have collapsed this easily.

But time wasn’t on his side.

As the sun set, his soul, too, began to succumb to slumber.

He could feel his very life flickering out. Like every night, death-like sleep crept in.

The familiar unease spread through his body.

[My goal is to kill him.]