Chapter 78
“The Red Letter”
“Ren-nim, who lives in that house?”
The young new recruit of the Harpren Merchant Group pointed at an old house.
Ren, the merchant leader, glanced at it.
“Well, I heard someone has lived there since about ten years ago.”
“You mean… there are things even you don’t know?”
Ren laughed loudly and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Sometimes, not knowing is better. Especially if nobles are involved.”
“Nobles? But that house looks too shabby for a noble.”
Ren crossed his arms.
“True. It’s far too shabby for a noble. But who else would have such strange taste?”
The two-story wooden house was indeed inhabited. A physician sometimes visited, and at night, people had heard what sounded like crying.
Yet the house was more than shabby—it was eerie. Every window was sealed with boards, preventing anyone inside from looking out or anyone outside from looking in. Even the front door was locked with a large padlock—from the outside.
It looked less like a home and more like a prison.
“If someone really is locked up in there, then people like us risk our lives just by showing interest.”
Ren believed that to survive long in the merchant trade, more than money or customers, you needed instinct—to know what business brings profit, and what must never be touched.
He warned the curious boy, Pol:
“You’ll understand after a few more years. Don’t concern yourself with that house. We just need to go sell our wheat in Esperos territory and collect payment…”
But his words trailed off.
A carriage had stopped in front of that very house.
“Ren-nim, that carriage—!”
“Shh!”
Ren quickly covered Pol’s mouth and pulled him behind a wooden post.
Luckily, they had separated from the main group to scout ahead. Otherwise, a crowd would have drawn attention.
‘No family crest on the carriage…’
Nobles usually displayed their family crest proudly. To ride without one meant only two things: either a ruined noble without wealth, or…
“Someone moving in secret.”
Ren’s eyes sharpened. Merchants weren’t supposed to meddle with nobles, but information was survival.
Finally, a man stepped out of the carriage—and Ren’s face stiffened.
‘That man…!’
Cold sweat trickled down his back. The man’s left eye gleamed like a snake.
“This place must be disposed of soon.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll handle it cleanly so it won’t trouble you.”
Walking down the empty corridor, Crocan spoke casually, while Demon hurried to answer.
Crocan unlocked the bolted door from outside.
The room was dark, lit only by thin beams of sunlight through gaps in the boarded windows. Demon quickly lit candles around the room.
“I’ll wait outside, my lord.”
With a bow, Demon left.
Crocan’s eyes moved to the woman lying on the bed.
But the moment he sat on the chair beside her, she sprang up.
“Die, Crocan Piace!”
She lunged with a dinner knife, but Crocan easily struck it aside with his cane and forced her back onto the bed, pinning her down.
“Anna, my beloved wife,” he said coolly. “If you truly wanted to kill me, you should have hidden even your breath.”
“Shut that mouth.”
Anna’s chest heaved violently.
Crocan looked down at her with mock pity.
“Out of breath from just this? It seems your life force is nearly gone.”
“Don’t worry. I have just enough left to kill you.”
Her voice was hoarse, but her spirit was fierce. Crocan found it satisfying.
He held her wrists tightly, gazing at her. Her violet hair had lost its shine, but her crimson eyes—eyes he once admired—still gleamed.
“You want to see Rebellia, don’t you, Anna?”
Anna’s expression shook at the name.
“She’s a good child. Even though she thinks her mother abandoned her, she still tries to understand.”
“…”
“When I told others you were sick in the countryside, I didn’t expect her to agree. Perhaps she didn’t want anyone to speak badly of her mother.”
“Don’t you dare touch Lea.”
Tears welled in Anna’s scarlet eyes.
Crocan’s lips curled.
“You miss her so much, don’t you? After all, Rebellia is the child you bore with Edwin Eliana—the only man you ever loved.”
“I curse you, Crocan Piace.”
Her eyes burned with hate, but he only laughed.
“Unrequited love is such a sad thing. I’m preparing a gift for you, yet all you give me are curses.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it. Even if it were gold.”
“No. This time, you’ll be very pleased.”
“…”
“When you die and go to hell, you’ll see what I mean.”
Suddenly—knock, knock. Demon’s urgent voice came from outside.
“My lord! Forgive me— a red letter has arrived from the mercenaries!”
Crocan froze.
“A red letter? Bring it at once!”
In his rage, he nearly broke Anna’s wrists. Demon rushed in, handed him the letter, and avoided looking at the scene on the bed.
Crocan tore it open.
Inside was a single line:
[Target confirmed alive in southeastern Hestonia, near the Xeros border.]
“Alive…?” Crocan’s voice shook with fury.
“Hestonia’s southeast isn’t far. That useless woman failed. Prepare to leave at once.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
Crocan looked back at Anna before leaving.
“Wait for me, Anna. Before your short life ends, I’ll personally bring you your gift.”
He left without hesitation.
Anna pounded the locked door and screamed:
“Don’t touch Lea! If you harm my daughter, I swear I’ll kill you, Crocan Piace!”
Silence followed.
Her strength gave out. She collapsed, coughing blood.
Her fragile life flickered like a candle flame about to go out.
