Chapter 27 – Who Do You Think You Are!? (3)

Cariel checked his gear. Practical, comfortable clothing in dark hues to mask dirt, blood, or grime. A sharpened sword at his hip, a dagger strapped to his thigh. Smaller tools—a hand axe, steel needles, scissors—secured in hidden pockets. He’d been steadily accumulating emergency funds, enough to last him a while. Recovery potions, powdered first-aid, antidotes—all carefully checked and packed.

“Anything else…?”

He’d resupply with dried rations from the storeroom. Travel light. But lighter packs meant harder journeys, so he double-checked everything. A hooded cloak for warmth and concealment, a sturdy robe for added protection. He hoisted the pack onto his shoulders. Finally, he was ready.

He’d run through these preparations countless times in his mind. Putting them into action now felt… surreal. A flicker of excitement, quickly extinguished.

Spare shoes… A horse would have been ideal, but impractical. Even if he managed to capture a wild horse, finding suitable tack would be difficult, and wild horses were rare within the Empire’s borders.

Thump. Thump. He tested the thick leather soles of his boots against the floor, then surveyed his room one last time. A letter lay on his desk. He hesitated, then picked it up. The only remaining item was his lute. He’d grab it on his way out.

He turned from the window and opened the door.

“…Young Master.”

Silpia stood there, holding a lantern. “You’re… going to see Madam, aren’t you?”

“…”

“Today’s… a happy day, right? And… I heard the rumors. About you and the prince…”

Her words were carefully chosen, but Cariel didn’t bother correcting her.

“So… now…”

“Silpia.”

“…”

While noble households typically employed dedicated servants, the Brendiars, newly elevated and still considered upstarts, lacked such a staff. His mother was frugal, his father disdainful of excessive displays of wealth, so the estate operated with minimal personnel. Even the guards and gardeners were only there due to the Emperor’s intervention.

Silpia was different. He’d brought her here himself.

“…” I almost forgot about her.

“Young… Master?”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I… I haven’t always been kind. I’ve taken my frustrations out on you.”

Silpia’s light brown eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. “No! It was my fault! I’m clumsy, and slow, and I don’t always understand…”

“It’s alright.” He gently patted her head. “Still… because of you… this house…” What should he say? The words wouldn’t come. He wanted to express his gratitude, but his mind was blank.

“If only… I’d been more capable… someone who could help you… with your burdens…”

“It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself.” He handed her the letter. “The Academy will be on break soon, and I… I need some time. I’ll be leaving the Empire for a while.”

“…” She probably already knew. She must have sensed his detachment, his desire to leave. He’d made it obvious enough.

“You’ll… come back… right?” Was it so unexpected? Did she think he’d disappear forever?

“…” Perhaps. If he’d been the Cariel of a few months ago, he might have. He would have vanished without a trace, seeking refuge at the edge of the world.

“Now that I think about it…” He’d once dreamed of exploring the uncharted lands beyond the known continents. When had that been? He could barely remember.

“I’ll wait for you.” She stepped back, bowing her head. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced a smile.

He found the gesture… beautiful.

“Until the day I can serve you again.”

“…” She didn’t ask to accompany him, to see him off. They both understood. Her family needed her. Her ailing mother, her younger siblings. She had responsibilities.

Regret? No. She was young, but she carried her burdens with grace and unwavering dedication. She worked tirelessly, despite her lack of experience, never complaining.

“Is there… anything else you want to say?”

“Hmm.” He considered it. “I’ll… think about it.”

He would leave. Eventually. But not like this, not fleeing like a criminal. The Academy’s break would soon be over, followed by the Imperial Equestrian Tournament. Alessius would be there, along with many of his former acquaintances, the descendants of heroes and champions, the favorites to win.

“…” He would taint their celebration. He would make it clear… that there was no going back. That they could never welcome him back. He would burn it all to ashes.

====

He slipped over the estate wall and headed toward the park.

“It’s a boy! A son!”

“Oh my! Truly?”

“A blessing!” The streets were alive with celebration, as if a festival were in full swing.

Cariel pulled his hood low, retrieved his lute from its hiding place in the park, and hurried on.

“A joyous day for the Empire!”

“Long live the Hero Luelde! Long live Saintess Ermina!”

“His Majesty is on his way to the Great Cathedral!”

“Lord Bariel is already there!”

It all sounded… distant. Like a story from another world. The capital was vast, and he had a long way to go.

He scaled a building, climbed onto the rooftops, and moved swiftly through the shadows, leaving the celebrating crowds behind. Their joy, their prayers, felt… foreign.

The revelry continued even as he reached the outer city walls.

“…” He scanned the patrolling guards, identified a blind spot, dropped to the ground, and scaled the wall, his movements fluid and silent. He reached the top and dropped down the other side.

For a moment, as he fell, he looked back. The city walls receded, growing smaller and smaller, transforming into an insurmountable barrier, a point of no return.

Thump! He landed silently, rolling to absorb the impact. He pressed himself against the wall, concealed in the shadows. Patrols roamed outside the walls as well. He’d studied their routes, but there could still be hidden observers. He moved carefully, avoiding the torchlight.

He’d chosen the dense forest for a reason.

It’s on the way, and less chance of being seen. It was a designated patrol area, but that wasn’t a problem. In the woods, among the trees and shadows, he was in his element.

He climbed a tree, gauged the wind, ensuring his scent wouldn’t betray him. He needed to get clear of the patrol routes. Camping nearby would be foolish. He moved steadily, methodically, his goal not speed, but distance.

As he moved through the trees, something caught his eye. Two horses, tethered to a tree. And beside them, a figure stroking one of the horses, looking up as if sensing his presence.

He paused, climbed higher, and turned to look.

“…” A cloaked figure stood below, gazing up at him. The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting an ethereal glow upon the scene.

The figure lowered their hood, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes that shimmered with an otherworldly light.

Why… why are you here? And why now, of all times?

“I didn’t have to wait long.” Her voice was calm, almost serene. “Let’s rest for a bit. And talk.”

Cariel Brendiar.

“Or should I say… Baron Lutia?”

“…” He could turn and run. Disappear into the shadows.

“…” But she’d come all this way. She was blameless. If there was any fault, it was simply for existing, for trying. And that was… wrong. His resentment was misplaced, born of his own insecurities.

“Alright.” He climbed down and approached her. The moonlight seemed to focus on her, bathing her in an ethereal glow.

Elhermina Berke Enjul. His childhood friend. A fellow descendant of heroes, yet their paths had diverged so drastically. Bathed in moonlight, she was breathtaking—resolute, dignified, refined. They said she had a heart of frozen steel, that even her golden blood ran cold. And yet… everything she presented to the world was kindness, nobility, selflessness.

What did she see, he wondered, when she looked out at the world with those piercing blue eyes?