Chapter 11
“…?”
Donald thought he must have misheard.
Did he say corpse or loan shark? Surely he meant the latter. Usury had always been closely tied to political funds, so that would have made sense.
His sharp mind spun toward the more plausible explanation.
“Well, if it’s about loans, I know a place. The interest is a little steep, but the fellow’s purse is deep. Just tell me how much you need, and—”
“I said I need human corpses.”
Edmund confirmed the kill.
“W-why on earth would you need…?”
“I have urgent use for them.”
Corpses? Donald nearly repeated the word out loud but bit his tongue.
“And also information on black magic. Books, folklore, rumors—it doesn’t matter. Collect everything you can.”
“Pardon?”
Donald echoed like a fool. The request had leapt far beyond his worst fears.
“I-is this one of those intimidation tactics? You throw out an absurd demand, wait until I beg for mercy, and then finally reveal what you really want?”
Otherwise, how could anyone ask for something like that?
The combination of corpses and black magic—he hated to even speak the words aloud. It felt as if he might be cursed on the spot.
Despite appearances, Donald was a devout follower of the Helios faith. He never missed the weekly prayer service.
“Please, sir, enough with the mind games. Just tell me what you actually want.”
“I already told you. Corpses, and information on black magic. That’s all I need.”
“How can you say such nonsense, my lord?!”
Donald slammed his desk and shot to his feet.
“If someone catches wind of that, it’s immediate execution!”
“That’s right.”
“Then you’re telling me to go die?!”
“Are you really worth the trouble of telling something like that indirectly?”
“Ugh…”
Donald barely swallowed the curse rising in his throat. To him, this was no different from being told to carry firewood into the flames on his back.
“My lord, please. Have mercy. As you know, ever since the Holy War, cremation has been the standard for funerals. Cemeteries are relics of the past—you won’t find them anymore.”
“…”
“And black magic…! Just saying it aloud could get us killed. Besides, only black magicians can even use black magic. What could you possibly want with such things?”
“That’s none of your concern. So, are you saying you won’t do it?”
“Even with a blade at my throat, I can’t—!”
Shrrk!
A blade pressed against his throat before he could finish. It all happened in an instant.
“I-I’ll do my very best!!” Donald screamed. His change of heart was instantaneous.
“Good. A wise decision.”
“Oh, Father in heaven…!”
He collapsed to the floor, calling upon his father—the very cause of all this misery. A benefactor? No, a curse!
This wasn’t a benefactor who had appeared to save the family. This was a ghost, come to tear it apart.
“Report back as soon as you find something. Use this contact. Ah, and if possible, have the corpses delivered before the week’s end.”
Edmund set down a communication orb, then rose with a cold decree.
“If you’re late, I’ll really cut your head off.”
“Eeek!”
Edmund left Donald behind and walked out.
Emily, following after him, paused. She glanced at Donald, who was sprawled on the floor, sobbing his heart out, and offered a small comfort.
“…He talks like that, but he won’t actually kill you.”
Probably. She swallowed the last word.
Edmund strode down the busy street with practiced ease.
From his wrist, a red serpent slipped free and slithered back into my embrace, hidden from prying eyes.
‘I was worried his wrist might snap… Thank goodness it didn’t.’
Even without guards, Edmund walked openly through the crowd without the slightest unease.
“Do you come here often?” I asked.
He gave me a brief look, then slowed his pace to match mine.
“No. It’s my first time alone.”
“You seemed familiar with the place.”
“I’ve come a few times with Isaac.”
I didn’t ask what business had brought him here. A young Duke Walker must have had plenty of matters to handle discreetly, not all of them clean.
“About earlier… Is that man reliable? If we’re exposed, we’ll all…”
“He looks untrustworthy, but his skills are solid. Don’t worry.”
If Edmund could say so with such certainty, the man must truly be capable.
We walked in silence for a time. To hide our destination, we circled around, switched carriages multiple times. I followed without complaint.
The noise grew deafening—hawkers calling out, haggling voices, drunkards raising their pitch in quarrels.
The crowd thickened until I had to cling to the hem of Edmund’s robe just to keep up. Even then, I was constantly jostled.
Then—a pale hand shot out and seized my wrist. Cold, clammy. It crawled up my arm with a chilling grip.
“Emily.”
Edmund’s voice cut through, clear and distinct. Oddly, all other sounds seemed to dim around it.
“I know you’ve been hiding things.”
“!”
I jerked my head up at him. But Edmund didn’t even glance back. He just kept walking.
“You’ve never been the type to talk about yourself. And until things came to this point, I had no idea what you were hiding. I know I can’t pretend otherwise.”
His voice was calm, matter-of-fact.
“It’s a foolish confession, but… As Duke Walker, I thought there was nothing in this household I didn’t know.”
“…”
“But I was wrong.”
My lips parted, dry and cracked.
“…At the very least, family should be the ones you can lean on in hard times.”
I had no answer.
“If you don’t speak, no one will know. Just as I knew nothing until now.”
He spoke gently, as if offering simple advice. It was unlike him. Though Edmund had always been kind to his siblings, this… was different.
“Now that your secret is out, you don’t need to hide it anymore. Say what you want, whenever you want.”
Edmund had always been a tender brother to Julia and me.
I blinked slowly, remembering.
Even when he first inherited the title at just barely of age, even when he spent sleepless nights mastering his duties…
He never once skipped breakfast with us. No matter how busy, he made sure to share at least one meal each day.
He had never voiced anything sentimental, but everyone knew—that was his way of showing love.
And now, here he was, saying words warmer than any he had ever spoken.
‘The iron-blooded Duke Walker—softening like this must be something only we’ll ever see.’
I smiled softly.
“Yes, I’ll remember that.”
“You clearly didn’t understand a word.” He stated flatly.
“I did! And I… I’m sorry for keeping things from you all this time.”
“What I mean is—” Edmund started again with a sigh.
Crash!
A donkey carrying baggage suddenly bucked, and its load spilled onto the street—right between Edmund and me.
“Whoa, calm down, calm down!”
The owner fought to restrain the beast, which snorted angrily. The street clogged instantly.
“Sorry! So sorry!” the man apologized, hurriedly picking up the fallen goods.
I turned back toward Edmund.
“That was close, I almost got crushed—”
But Edmund was gone.
“…”
All that remained was his left hand, still clamped tight around my wrist.
‘Again.’
What was it with these zombies and their obsession with detached wrists? It happened so often it was practically an illness.
Thank goodness for the robe—I could just tuck the hand inside and hide it.
‘But where did he disappear to?’
In that brief moment, the crowd had swallowed him whole. Not a trace of his robe remained.
Was I the lost one here, or was it Edmund?
I was weighing that when—tap tap. Someone tapped my shoulder.
“Lost your way?”
A man in a hooded robe stood there. His face was hidden, but his voice carried a faint smile.
Suspicious.
Anyone could see he was suspicious. Approaching me the instant I’d been separated? Cloaked head to toe, gloved as well.
‘In a busy market, in broad daylight… what is he thinking?’
Anyone with a sharp eye could tell my robe was expensive. Perhaps he’d marked me for robbery. But that sort of thing happened in alleys, not in the middle of the bazaar.
“Yes, I got separated from my group.” I answered politely. Pretending to smile was easy.
“I thought so,” he said.
“And what is it you want from me…?”
“Oh, I just have one question.”
He stepped closer.
I instinctively tried to retreat, but the press of the crowd forced me back into place. He leaned in until his face was inches from mine, lowering himself as though speaking kindly to a younger sibling.
From beneath the hood, dark blue eyes gleamed.
“How did you do it? I made sure they were all dead.”
“What…?”
I barely formed the word when his eyes curved in amusement, as though pleased by my shock.
A chill ran down my spine.
“Emily!”
Suddenly someone yanked me back.
I spun around. Edmund. His face was tight with irritation.
“Where did you go? I’ve been looking for you.”
“It wasn’t me who disappeared, it was you—wait!”
I turned back. But the hooded man was gone.
As if I’d imagined it all. Not a trace remained. Only the goosebumps on my arms proved it had been real.
