Chapter 021. Let’s Go, to the Land of Anata! (2)

“How unfair do you think your subordinates would feel if they found out you survived like this?”

His approach always began the same way—so much so that it was almost boring. He would start by mocking the other person, pushing them to react emotionally.

“They’d probably want to rise from their graves. Just to kill themselves all over again for having followed someone like you.”

And once they took the bait and responded emotionally, he would become even more vicious.

Sionne bit his lip, a little too obviously.

“Oh? Did that offend you?”

Aaron didn’t miss a beat and pressed on, more aggressively. He tapped Sionne’s shoulder a few times.

He glanced toward Rosalyn’s tent. Once he confirmed it was quiet, he became even bolder.

“Come on, answer me. Are you upset?”

It was as if he was testing how far he could push Rosalyn’s out-of-favor toy.

Of course, the violence had been escalating. Yesterday it was a hit to the stomach—today would clearly be worse.

“But why be upset? It’s all true, isn’t it?”

But Sionne had no intention of just taking it today.

“You’re still stuck in the habit of selling your body from your peasant days, right? Or am I wrong?”

“…And if I am?”

“What?”

Sionne, who usually stayed quiet and endured it, talked back. Aaron blinked in surprise.

“You’re right. So what? Want me to share some tips that might be useful to you?”

“Hah?”

Aaron let out a dry laugh at Sionne’s cocky tone.

“What, did you chew on some poisonous weeds or something? You think I need—”

“For example.”

Sionne cut him off lightly and continued.

“You might be curious how to sneak into the lord’s bedroom.”

“You—!”

“Or at least how to get into the carriage.”

Aaron’s face turned as red as it possibly could.

He knew it was improper to imagine such things about his liege, but the image came unbidden—and it was maddeningly vivid. His jaw clenched.

“Oh, but you’re probably not Rose’s type, so maybe not.”

Sionne sneered, referring to Rosalyn by a pet name.

“You bastard!”

Aaron lost it. The fact that he had hesitated for even a second was humiliating beyond belief.

Sionne had hit the mark. The young knight’s weakness was his feelings for his master.

So Sionne decided to exploit that.

Thud, thud! The dull sounds of blows filled the air, along with the harsh breathing of someone unable to contain their rage.

“Huff, huff!”

Even from afar, it was clear one person was beating the other mercilessly, but no one stepped in.

“You filthy Feitan scum!”

Aaron shouted between angry breaths.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that!”

Thwack! His right foot struck Sionne squarely in the solar plexus.

“Kh…”

Sionne instinctively curled into himself, trying to minimize the pain.

“A loser like you! A bug like you from Feitan!”

Aaron didn’t stop, kicking him over and over despite his pained groans.

“Haa…”

Finally, Aaron stopped. He caught his breath and tried to regain control.

But the remnants of his rage still simmered, only deepening his disgust.

“Don’t worry about others. You’d better start practicing how to spread your legs, prince.”

“Ugh!”

Aaron ground his heel into Sionne’s thigh in warning.

“The moment she throws you away, I’ll make sure you’re sold to a brothel. Got it?”

What frustrated Aaron the most was that Sionne still hadn’t let out a single loud cry.

“Yeah. If you’re only alive because you can’t die, then just keep living like you’re already dead.”

Spit. Aaron spat in his face before walking away.

“Haa…”

Once Aaron left, Sionne exhaled quietly.

His stomach, arms, and legs—all of them were screaming in pain.

“He really did aim only for places that wouldn’t show.”

He gave a dry chuckle at Aaron’s cunning.

His face really was untouched. Aside from the spit on his cheek.

Sionne reached out and tore up a handful of grass, then wiped his cheek with a blade of it.

“This part went just as I planned.”

He tossed the grass aside and fell into thought. The blades fluttered down like falling leaves.

A life lived just because he couldn’t die—what the Hernian knight had said wasn’t wrong.

But he was also only half right.

If Sionne had truly meant to live like the dead, he wouldn’t still be alive at all.

“From now on, it’s just a matter of how convincingly I stage it.”

Sionne quietly hoped that the bruises would form properly.

* * *

Sionne dragged his battered body forward. Cold sweat poured down like rain, and his feet scraped against the ground.

It felt like something inside him had gone wrong from the sheer abuse his body had taken. A chill shook through his flesh.

Even taking a single step was pure torture.

“She really doesn’t even glance this way.”

Sionne looked at Rosalyn as she mounted her horse without sparing even the slightest glance in his direction.

At some point, the red-haired woman had started leading the group from the front. But not even by accident did she look his way.

She had clearly made up her mind to treat Sionne like he didn’t exist.

And Sionne had to disrupt that resolve.

“We’ll stay at an inn in the nearby village tonight. We’ll be picking up the pace from here.”

Rosalyn’s command was relayed down the line through the knights. The group nodded in acknowledgment at their words.

But to Sionne, the knights’ voices sounded grating. In contrast, the sound of his own breathing was growing louder and louder in his ears.

“Now.”

Sionne recognized that this was his perfect opportunity. He deliberately let the strength drain from his legs.

His weakened foot caught on the ground almost immediately, and his ankle twisted completely.

His body pitched forward, and he crashed face-first into the dirt, raising a cloud of dust.

“Ah! Someone collapsed!”

“Wait…! Sionne Feitan just collapsed!”

As expected, the area immediately broke into chaos.

“What’s going on?”

Only then did Rosalyn turn around at the commotion behind her.

As shadows began to gather around him, Sionne let his consciousness slip. He figured that would make him look even more pitiful.

* * *

Rosalyn glared at the man lying on the carriage seat. She bit her lip, frustrated that things weren’t going the way she had planned.

‘If he’s holding out like this… does that mean he’s sincere?’

Until now, Rosalyn had always doubted Sionne.

His plea not to be abandoned. His request to stay by her side. His confession of love.

Each time he came at her so directly, it left her flustered—but she couldn’t bring herself to believe him. After all, nothing was easier to fabricate than human words.

‘I thought he’d give up if I pushed his body hard enough.’

If Sionne had said he couldn’t go on, she was ready to let him go.

‘Of course, with someone trailing him.’

At this point, Sionne Feitan knew too much. Even if she let him go, she couldn’t let him go freely.

‘If I see even the slightest hint of contact with the enemy, I’ll have to kill him without hesitation…’

But Rosalyn’s ruthless plan was interrupted by Sionne’s movement.

“Ugh…”

With a low groan, Sionne opened his eyes.

Rosalyn looked into the teal eyes that stood out even more because his face was caked with dust.

His gaze wandered before landing on her.

“Your Grace.”

At the same time, his teal eyes curved gently. He somehow looked happy.

‘He’s smiling so pitifully.’

Rosalyn averted her gaze and asked,

“How’s your body?”

Did he truly only desire love?

Was there really no other motive?

A series of questions bloomed in her mind. Along with them, the guilt she had tried so hard to ignore began to surface.

“I’m fine…”

Sionne tried to rise as he answered. He slowly lifted his torso, then paused mid-movement.

“…now.”

His smiling lips contrasted with his furrowed brow.

“Don’t hold it in. I don’t want you collapsing again and slowing us down.”

“Ah… it’s not that serious.”

Rosalyn looked him over with a dissatisfied expression.

“You’ll be examined once we reach the village.”

She turned toward the door as she spoke.

“And from now on, you’ll travel by carriage.”

She knocked twice on the wall of the carriage toward the driver’s seat. The knocking was followed by a curious voice.

“Where to, Your Grace?”

“To my position.”

“Can’t you… stay by my side?”

Rosalyn, who had been looking out the window, turned to Sionne.

“Why would I? I don’t see any reason I should stay next to you.”

“But there’s no reason to avoid me either, is there?”

Sionne Feitan, arrogant as ever, didn’t back down—not even a little.

“Tch, stop playing word games.”

With that scolding, Rosalyn grabbed the carriage door handle. She had decided there was no point continuing the conversation.

That’s when it happened. Sionne placed his hand over hers, stopping her from opening the door.

“What is this…!”

“But didn’t I pass the test this time?”

Sionne spoke as if he had just passed an exam Rosalyn had given him.

“Shouldn’t a student who gets a good score be rewarded?”