Departing

The hours passed slowly, each one marked by the faint sounds of the mansion settling in the night. My thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and fears, and the ache in my hand from striking the wall served as a constant reminder of my anguish.

Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The heavy clank of the lock being turned echoed through the room, and the door creaked open.

A guard stepped inside, his expression stern and cold.

"Time to go," he said curtly, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.

I stumbled out of the cell, the sudden movement causing my head to spin. The guard's grip was firm as he led me through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion.

We passed through the main hall, where the weight of my family's judgment still lingered, before stepping out into the cold night air.

A carriage awaited us, its dark, wooden frame illuminated by the flickering light of a nearby lantern.

"Enter."

From the side, the voice of a knight echoed. I didn't even feel the need to look at him or confirm. I just complied and followed what he was saying.

–GROWL!

My stomach growled, most likely because of the fact that it was kept empty for a while. But it was not like there was something I could do about it.

–CREAK!

In one week, I had been moved countless different times from the Duke's mansion to my own family's and now to another place.

Just as I entered the carriage, my eyes captured something.

There, slightly hidden behind the trees, was a young girl. The torch of the people around me revealed her face, and I recognized her immediately.

Eliza.

Her presence took me by surprise. I remembered her as the somehow clumsy but cute maid, always trying her best despite her occasional mishaps. But why was she here?

As our eyes met, Eliza flinched and then turned away, disappearing into the shadows.

Not that it mattered, as the knight grabbed me from my arms and then pushed me into the carriage.

THUD!

The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing me inside.

The carriage jerked forward, and I was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the flickering torch outside. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestone road filled the silence, a constant reminder of the journey ahead.

I tried to steady my breathing, to calm the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within me.

The brief glimpse of Eliza's face lingered in my mind, her presence an unexpected yet fleeting moment of familiarity in this sea of uncertainty.

'Why did she come here? To see the young lord that she once served becoming something that is lesser than her? How ironic?'

Somehow, it felt like she was mocking me, but then, as I remembered her expression, I realized I was just being dumb.

That girl's expression had far too much sadness for her to be mocking me after all.

Just like that, the hours passed slowly, the journey marked by the occasional bump and jolt as the carriage navigated the uneven terrain.

The cold seeped through the wooden walls, chilling me to the bone. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to preserve what little warmth I could.

Days went by, and the journey was pretty similar compared to the one I did from Dukedom to our mansion.

Eventually, the carriage came to a halt.

The door was flung open, and a guard's harsh voice broke the silence. "Out, now."

I stepped down, my legs stiff and unsteady from the long ride. We were in a large, open courtyard surrounded by high walls and guarded gates.

Torches lined the perimeter, casting eerie shadows on the stone buildings. I was herded toward a group of other prisoners, all huddled together in the cold night air.

The guards pushed us into a dimly lit building. Inside, rows of wooden benches filled the room, and we were instructed to sit. I took a seat near the back, my eyes scanning the faces of those around me.

They were a mix of men and women, young and old, their expressions a blend of fear, anger, and resignation.

A door at the front of the room opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man strode in.

His uniform was pristine, and a scar ran down one side of his face, giving him a menacing appearance. He stood before us, his eyes cold and hard as they swept over the room.

CLENCH!

And as his gaze passed people, they started clenching their teeth and hands. As he locked with mine, I understood the reason.

A feeling of insects crawling down on your skin, the feeling of your life on the line, the feeling of your heart crushed, the feeling of not being able to breathe…

All of them happened at the same time, this time physically. My body reacted on its own, trying to cope with the pain and the pressure.

It somehow made me remember the duke and what happened at that time. Of course, what was happening right now could not come closer to that at all, as this pressure was a lot more bearable than at that time.

'Right…..They call this Romance-fantasy for a reason…..'

At that time, my memory was hazy, and I was not able to understand what was happening before me, but now I could.

'This is killing intent.'

The duke was releasing his killing intent at that time. I had partially experienced it beforehand from my father, but none of them were to this extent.

After pressuring us for a while, the man retrieved his pressure back.

–THUD!

Many people fell down after the pressure was relieved.

"HAaaaaah....haaaaah….."

They were breathing heavily, me included. Even if I was able to keep myself standing, not being able to breathe still affected me.

"I am Captain Stroud," he announced, his voice rough and commanding. "I am the military supervisor overseeing you lot. You've all been sentenced to serve on the front lines, and let me make one thing clear: you are here because you are expendable."

The room was filled with the sound of labored breathing as Captain Stroud surveyed us with a look of disdain. He had established his dominance, and the fear was palpable among the prisoners.

"You are criminals," Captain Stroud continued, his tone filled with contempt. "You have disgraced yourselves and your families, and now you will atone for your crimes with your lives. Do not expect sympathy or leniency. You will be treated as the lowest of the low, and your only chance of redemption is to fight and die for the Empire."

He began to pace again, his heavy boots echoing in the silent room. "You will be given basic training, but do not mistake this for an opportunity to prove yourselves. You are fodder, nothing more. Your lives are worth less than the weapons you will carry."

The murmur of fear and anger that rippled through the room was quickly silenced by Captain Stroud's sharp glare. "Discipline will be maintained at all times. Any attempt to escape or disobey orders will be met with immediate execution. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of reluctant affirmations followed, and Captain Stroud nodded in satisfaction. "Good. You will begin your training at first light. Until then, you will be confined to your quarters. Remember, your lives are forfeit, and your only hope is to serve the Empire with what little dignity you have left."

With that, he turned and strode off the platform, leaving us to ponder the grim fate that awaited us.

Just as I felt like the world had stopped, suddenly he turned back.

"Ah...I forgot…..Who is Lucavion Thorne?" He said, but then smirked suddenly. "My bad, only Lucavion would be enough. Criminal Lucavion, step forward."

A murmur rippled through the group of prisoners as they exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves. In the Empire of Loria, only nobles had surnames, and the use of "Thorne" indicated that I had once belonged to a noble family. The realization sparked a mix of curiosity and hostility among the others.

Feeling a knot form in my stomach, I stood up. "I am Lucavion," I said, my voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at me.

Captain Stroud's smirk widened as he met my gaze. "Follow me. We need to talk."

The room fell silent, and I felt the weight of countless eyes on me. Hostility and resentment radiated from the other prisoners. To them, I was a fallen noble, most likely.

A symbol of the privileges they had likely never known. But I couldn't afford to care about their opinions now. My focus was on surviving, and for that, I had to follow Stroud.

I stepped forward, feeling the tension in the room rise as I walked past the others. Their glares burned into my back, but I kept my head high and my gaze forward. I could sense their hatred and suspicion, but I forced myself to remain composed.

Stroud led me out of the main hall and into a dimly lit corridor. We walked in silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Eventually, we arrived at a small, sparsely furnished room. Stroud motioned for me to sit on a wooden chair while he took a seat behind a plain desk.

He leaned back, his cold eyes studying me with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "So, Lucavion Thorne," he began, emphasizing my surname with a sneer. "Viscount instructed me to take good care of you."

–SWOOSH!

And then, suddenly, he moved, his fist reaching down to my stomach.