After a brief moment of thought, the knight spoke.
“I can’t waste a whole day on a promise like yours. Call that warden fellow and write the letter now.”
“I appreciate your consideration.”
With permission granted, Kairus and the warden were left alone in the prison cell. Kairus’s task was simple.
The warden spoke, and Kairus transcribed it onto a brown, recycled paper using an ink-like mixture made from charred ash and water.
“Have you finished dictating?”
At Kairus’s question, the warden nodded and handed him four cigarettes.
Though his release was imminent, Kairus did not refuse the payment for his work.
Once the letter was completed, there was still some time left.
“When you get out, do you have a place to go?”
“Of course. Outside Carlson Labor Reformation Camp.”
Of course, there was nowhere for him to go. His entire family was dead, and the family’s wealth had surely been devoured by other vulture-like noble houses.
As the Emperor had declared in his decree, the only thing promised to Kairus was freedom.
And even that was merely returning what had been taken from him due to a misunderstanding.
A small travel allowance would be provided, but it was just that—an allowance, nothing more.
The warden, holding a cigarette between his lips, struck a match and spoke.
“How about going to Bennett City?”
Kairus looked at the warden, lost in thought for a moment, then finally replied.
“My, do you already miss my face? I haven’t even stepped out of my cell, and you’re asking me to come back?”
“Don’t be stupid. What the hell would I do with your ugly mug? I wouldn’t use it to wipe my ass.”
Bennett City. A well-known place situated on the western border of the Balorn Empire.
Kairus had ghostwritten dozens of letters addressed to that place.
It was said that even the most common roadside restaurants there hired guards for security—it was a lawless city.
Even in this labor reformation camp, mentioning that one came from Bennett City was enough to deter most from picking a fight. That was how notorious it was.
“They say they do any work that makes money and turn non-profitable work into profit.”
“A guy I used to know opened a restaurant there. Was it three years ago? I learned about it thanks to the letters you wrote for me.”
The warden flicked his cigarette, sending ash scattering onto the floor, then looked at Kairus.
“If you mention my name, he’ll probably give you a job as a worker. The bastard was a good cook, so I doubt his place has gone under.”
“I never thought I’d be getting a job referral from this miserable place. Well, I’ll consider it. Thank you.”
At Kairus’s words, the warden raised his middle finger.
“Shut up, idiot. I’ll be out of here myself in about ten years. Don’t you dare ignore me when the time comes.”
“Ten years in Bennett City, huh? I wonder if someone as gentle as me could last that long there.”
“Bullshit. It’s Longwave Bistro, located at 47 Mahogany Park. If you’re interested, tell them Tommy sent you. If the owner starts yapping, just say ‘Cloud Lighthouse.’ He’ll understand.”
The warden waved his hand dismissively, as if done with the conversation.
“Now get lost. Congratulations on your freedom, you treacherous bastard. Ah, wait, not anymore. The bastard we thought was a traitor.”
Congratulations, huh?
Kairus gave a small nod at the warden’s words and stepped out of the prison cell.
The moment he left, his expression turned ice-cold.
His exterminated family, six years wasted, all the family’s wealth and titles erased without a trace.
And the compensation for all of that?
Mere personal freedom.
“Is the Emperor stupider than I thought?”
Had he been in the Emperor’s position, he would never have released himself.
Or maybe the Emperor had simply thought, What harm could come from freeing just one man?
Or perhaps there was another reason.
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that he was free now.
Kairus walked through the frigid, dimly lit prison corridor and stepped outside.
“This is your travel allowance.”
A new identification card was handed to him.
Gone were his family name, crest, and embellishments—only the plain name “Kairus” remained.
Along with it, a few banknotes were placed in his hand.
A total of 150 pints.
With 50 pints, one could buy a sack of wheat.
This exchange rate never changed. The currency of the Balorn Empire, the pint, was directly tied to the value of wheat.
In other words, six years in Carlson Labor Reformation Camp had earned him three sacks of wheat.
The realization struck him like a thorn in the heart.
“Get in the cargo hold. You’ll be transported to the nearest village from Carlson Labor Reformation Camp.”
The nearest village, huh?
Kairus spoke up.
“I didn’t know there was a village nearby.”
“It’s about a three-day ride from here.”
“Does the village have a train station?”
“No.”
The knight abruptly ended the conversation and walked away.
Kairus mulled over the knight’s words and clicked his tongue.
“No wonder escaping wouldn’t have been worth it.”
If it took three days by car to reach the nearest village, how long would it take on foot?
He would drop dead from exhaustion before making it.
And if he strayed even slightly off course, he’d never reach the village at all.
Silently, Kairus climbed into the cargo hold. There wasn’t the slightest consideration for passengers in the cramped space.
The engine rattled to life, and soon the vehicle began to roll forward.
Inside the jostling cargo hold, Kairus remained silent, passing the time.
“My lord, if I may be so bold… perhaps we should ration our meals more carefully?”
As the evening fell after hours of travel, the driver cautiously addressed the knight.
“What nonsense are you spouting now?”
The knight shot him a look of irritation.
“This time of year, the wolves become violent due to the lack of food. If they catch the scent of—”
The coachman trailed off, his gaze settling on the meal being prepared for the knight. It looked like he intended to grill some meat.
“You bastard. Are you saying I should be so afraid of some damn wolves that I can’t even have a proper meal?”
Some damn wolves, huh? Kairus began to feel a little concerned.
A knight with real skill wouldn’t be sent to a remote, frozen wasteland just to escort a prisoner.
Besides, Kairus knew exactly what kind of wolves the coachman was talking about. Around this time of year, they often roamed near the Carlson Labor Reformation Camp.
The wolves in this region were far bigger and more ferocious than those elsewhere. If an ordinary wolf encountered one of these, it would be torn apart like a chew toy in an instant.
“In my humble opinion, it would be wise to heed the coachman’s words.”
“Don’t soil my ears with your worthless opinion.”
The knight dismissed Kairus’s advice without hesitation. People who acted like that usually didn’t live long. Kairus shut his mouth immediately.
No point in provoking him—it would only lead to a beating or a string of curses.
“My lord, you say that only because you don’t know about the wolves in this area. They have no fear of people and—”
The coachman, however, seemed quite stubborn.
Naturally, the proud knight rewarded him for his persistence.
It was a lesson of love, a guiding hand—some might call it a punch to the face.
A fresh bruise bloomed on the coachman’s cheek, a medal for his bravery. He seemed so pleased with his reward that he finally shut up.
“The smell is fantastic, though.”
Kairus muttered, eyeing the oat porridge set before him and the steak the knight was devouring.
The contrast was clear.
A knight sitting at a table, slicing into a juicy steak, while Kairus crouched on the cold ground, avoiding the snow as he spooned up porridge and potatoes.
A stark reminder of status.
Six years ago, their positions would have been completely reversed.
And Kairus wasn’t the only one thinking it.
The knight, chewing his steak with satisfaction, glanced at him, evidently quite pleased with himself.
While waiting for the meal, the knight had been reviewing Kairus’s documents and had just discovered which family he came from.
“You’re a Featherwing?”
Kairus did not answer.
In the past, this knight wouldn’t have even dared to lift his gaze to Kairus’s face.
The Featherwing family.
Over the past 300 years, they had produced two Grand Masters of the Imperial Knights, seven Imperial Army commanders, eight Imperial Swordsmen, and three deans of the Imperial Military Academy.
Never once had the head of the Featherwing family failed to claim the title of Imperial Sword, an honor given only to the ten strongest in the empire.
“Life sure is unpredictable.”
And now, the last surviving heir of that noble house was sitting here, happily spooning down something that looked more like animal feed than food.
The knight enjoyed the sight.
To think that a direct descendant of the Featherwing family, its last remaining member, was using honorifics and behaving like a lowly servant—it was deeply satisfying.
“Come to think of it, I heard you even lost your family’s emblem.”
At that, Kairus fixed his gaze on him.
“Could you perhaps explain that in more detail?”
His voice was quiet and calm, but beneath the composed exterior, something simmered, ready to explode.
For a brief moment, the knight flinched under that stare before quickly looking away.
“How should I know? Someone must’ve stolen it.”
Kairus nodded.
“Is that so? Thank you.”
He said nothing more and continued eating, replaying the knight’s words in his mind.
Lost? The family emblem?
Kairus had never seriously considered going to Bennett City, even with the recommendation from the warden.
Only an idiot would walk straight out of prison into a city that would land him right back in a cell.
But if the family emblem had been stolen, that changed things.
If someone had taken it, as that knight suggested, they wouldn’t be able to sell it through legitimate means.
They’d have to go through smugglers and fences.
And small-time criminals wouldn’t be able to handle something as valuable as the Featherwing emblem.
But in Bennett City… there might be someone powerful enough to deal with it.
Or at the very least, Kairus could gather some useful information.
That was the moment he decided.
He was going to Bennett City.
“Hey, move over.”
The bruised coachman, rubbing his cheek with a handful of snow, gestured for Kairus to make space.
He could have just sat beside him, but he clearly didn’t want to.
Kairus understood.
Carlson Labor Reformation Camp wasn’t a place for just anyone.
No one wanted to sit next to a dangerous criminal while eating.
Without complaint, Kairus moved aside and continued his meal in a more secluded spot.
Then, suddenly—
A wolf’s howl echoed through the night.
It was close.
“Sounds like they want to join the feast.”
Well, considering they had been broadcasting the scent of grilled meat all over the place, it was no surprise that something had come to claim a seat at the table.
Kairus quickly swallowed the last of his oat porridge and potatoes, washing it down with a sip of water.
“Shit, what the hell?!”
The knight swiftly drew his sword, scanning the darkness.
Not that it mattered—he couldn’t see anything.
Kairus almost laughed.
Instead, he found himself marveling at the knight’s stance.
Was that seriously supposed to be a knight?
Then what had Kairus been fighting all his life?
From his grip on the sword to his stance, foot positioning, balance, breathing, even his line of sight—everything was wrong.
If Kairus started pointing out the flaws, he’d be here all night.
Honestly, a butcher hacking up meat in a slaughterhouse would handle a blade better than this guy.
Fighting wolves with that level of skill? Impossible.
Like a clam trying to challenge a crane.
“Shit, there’s so many of them!”
As the knight lit an oil lamp, the shadows finally peeled away, revealing their uninvited guests.
Massive wolves, their fangs bared, eyes gleaming with hunger, saliva dripping from their jaws.
Compared to them, the knight’s sword—gripped in both hands—looked about as threatening as a toothpick.
Hmm