Circumstances of a Fallen Lord - Chapter 127

Chapter 127

Luisen blinked.

‘What a surprise.’

For a moment, he thought the one-armed pilgrim was standing in front of him and not Carlton. He was often reminded of the pilgrim when he saw Carlton, but this was the first time the young lord had mistaken the two.

The decisive factor in this shift was the mercenary’s posture while holding the sword in the right hand. The one-armed pilgrim had a habit of tilting his body, turning it slightly to the side to protect the relatively vulnerable left side. This posture, aimed at defending the weaker left side, resulted in a distinctive stance when recovering from each swing of the sword, setting him apart from other swordsmen.

Carlton moved in that way–that same posture. Now that Carlton had injured his left arm. He may move similarly, but the question that popped up in Luisen’s mind, time and time again, once again bubbled up:

‘Can two completely different people overlap so completely within my mind?’

There were many similarities between Carlton and the one-armed pilgrim: their rare robust physique, that calm and calculating mind, and their graceful demeanor. Furthermore, the two kept overlapping in other subtle, more intangible aspects.

‘At this point, aren’t they just the same person?’

Goosebumps rose all over Luisen’s arms. He couldn’t believe it even when those were his own thoughts.

‘The one-armed pilgrim is… Carlton…?’

Just what was he thinking?

Luisen strongly denied it, but he couldn’t help but think of Carlton in the previous timeline.

Carlton had fled just before the coronation of the first prince, rumors and speculations about his whereabouts abounded, but one thing was certain: he had never revealed himself to the world until the day Luisen died. While it seemed implausible before, Luisen now understood how Carlton might have managed to conceal himself.

‘Carlton had a pilgrim’s token, so he must have pretended to be a pilgrim and fled.’

Then, what’s with the one-armed pilgrim? Nothing was known about his past–face, name, age, place of origin… Everything was a secret. When he had pieced together these fragmentary stories and anecdotes, he had barely managed to guess the man had been a mercenary in the past. Even after a year together, Luisen never saw his face. Now that he thought about it, the pilgrim concealed himself quite thoroughly… and unnaturally.

‘There were rumors that Carlton had lost his arm when he ran away from the palace… If Carlton disguised himself as the one-armed pilgrim…?’

It wasn’t strange at all to assume that Carlton was the one-armed pilgrim–no, it was rather natural. Carlton’s disappearance from the world and the one-armed pilgrim’s sudden presence were seamlessly connected; this relationship would explain the strange similarities between the two.

‘No no, that can’t be.’

It made sense, but he wanted to deny it from the bottom of his heart. As if to eliminate even the slightest possibility, Luisen strongly denied to himself, ‘That’s ridiculous. Carlton is the saint? Never-no! Yeah… I-I have evidence.’

There was no concrete evidence to confirm that the one-armed pilgrim, before regression, was indeed Carlton. If such evidence existed, Luisen would have found out much earlier. Conversely, he deliberately ignored the fact that there was no evidence proving the contrary.

Luisen desperately tried to recall the reasons why the one-armed pilgrim couldn’t be Carlton: different voices, Carlton’s comparative lack of religious knowledge, and other such trivial details.

“My Duke, you don’t look well. Are you feeling okay?” When Luisen’s agitation became apparent, Carlton approached the young lord.

“Uhh…Uh…”

“Let me get a good look at your face. Where are you feeling ill?”

“No, I’m just a little tired…” Luisen avoided Carlton’s gaze by pretending to rub his face. ‘I’m making Carlton uncomfortable…because of these useless thoughts.’

He was just too flustered–if he were to calm down a little, he’ll be fine.

The Eastern Great Lord clicked his tongue when he saw Luisen’s complexion, “How is a young person already feeling so exhausted and weak? Fine, it seems you’re tired, so I’ll take my leave for now.”

“Ah, I apologize.”

The Eastern Great Lord rose from his seat, and Luisen rose to see him off. Then, Luisen suddenly glanced towards the sword still in the mercenary’s hand. Though the blade was black, the sword was so utterly familiar for something that appeared so unusual.

When Luisen looked at the sword, The Eastern Great Lord asked, “Why? Do you want a sword as well?”

“No. Me, with a sword? That’d end in a disaster. I just thought it looked fascinating. That sword…where would one go to obtain another sword just like it?”

“Black Iron. It’s made from a precious ingredient that I’ve only ever seen once in my life. There’s only one sword like this in the world. Would I give a common sword to an apostle of God? I must keep up my reputation as a Great Lord.” The Eastern Great Lord shook his head and said arrogantly.

‘Yeah. I’ve never seen such an unusual-looking sword befo….’

…He’s seen such a sword before.

What unbelievable timing.

Luisen almost smacked his head, but lowered his arm a bit weakly–worried that the smack would chase away these fleeting memories.

The one-armed pilgrim had a similar sword. The sword wasn’t there from the beginning, but he had obtained it about a month before Luisen’s death. The pilgrim had said he had received the sword from somewhere. At that time, Luisen was mostly bedridden due to a rapid deterioration in health; he knew nothing about the post-war situation at large. Since the young lord was on his deathbed, he wasn’t so concerned about the sword.

‘If there’s only one of these swords in this world…’

The Great Lord was probably not bluffing–his words should be taken at face value.

In that case, then, before regression, the Eastern Great Lord must have gifted that sword to the one-armed pilgrim. Now, the sword was with Carlton.

That same sword, previously given to the pilgrim, was given to Carlton in this life. Moreover, Luisen was just wondering if the two were the same person.

‘Damn it.’

He couldn’t help but curse–this was all too much to be a coincidence.

***

After remembering the sword, Luisen’s mind was half absent. He couldn’t remember with what mindset he had escorted the Eastern Great Lord and returned to his room. Vaguely, he recalled that the Eastern Great Lord advised him to take care of his health, lecturing him.

Luisen paced alone in the room. Carlton’s subordinate had come looking for the mercenary, and, as if he were running away, Luisen barricaded himself in his room to give the two some space.

‘Before regression, Carlton would basically have been my enemy.’

At that time, Carlton had been abandoned by the first prince and would have been full of anger and betrayal. To that person, Luisen would have been the most hated aristocrat–the beginning of Carlton’s downfall. Even if Luisen had treated the man well, Carlton would have been resentful. There was no way he would help Luisen.

Of course, there was a possibility that Carlton didn’t recognize Luisen, but, even so, he wasn’t the kind of person to be kind for no reason. He was incredibly sweet to Luisen but also cold to others.

‘It’s more likely that Carlton recognized me as Duke Anies and approached me than for him to have helped an unknown tramp.’

It made so much sense that Luisen’s stomach churned.

The Pilgrim, who rescued the dying Luisen, took care of him without expecting anything in return. His unconditional mercy made Luisen realize his mistakes and repent. The teachings and care he received became the foundation for him to find the right path amidst the post-regression confusion.

But what if the pilgrim–Carlton–intentionally approached him?

It meant that the one-armed pilgrim wasn’t the saint that Luisen thought he was. From the moment they met–their year together–Luisen was deceived. Would that mean his teachings, his actions and behavior…everything that Luisen had followed like a faith…would all be false?

‘But there’s something ambiguous about that sword.’

The sword couldn’t serve as evidence that the Pilgrim was Carlton. The Eastern Great Lord had prepared the sword and gave it to an ‘Apostle of the God who would be against heretics.’ At that time, however, the Pilgrim was gaining fame by solving various issues, so it wasn’t so strange for the Eastern Great Lord to gift him that sword.

It was still too early to come to a conclusion with that alone.

This train of thought was cyclical.

Both options made sense, and there was no conclusive evidence for either. And, there was no way for Luisen to interrogate this further.

‘I’m the only one who can remember the saint, so I can’t really ask anyone else.’

Suddenly exhausted, Luisen lay flat on the sofa. Someone knocked on the door at that time.

“Who is it?” The young lord called out.

“It’s Carlton.” 

It seems his lover had come to visit after finishing his conversation with his deputy.

‘It’d be weird to see him–now isn’t a good time.’

Luisen was exhausted from his cyclical thoughts, and the thought of facing Carlton was a great burden. He hesitated. Carlton was quick-witted, and the man would easily notice if Luisen was acting strangely.

“I heard you skipped dinner, so I brought something simple to eat.” Carlton spoke from beyond the door. 

Luisen’s conscience was stabbed. It felt ruthless to deny someone who had so kindly brought him food just because he felt uneasy. If he declined now, Carlton might find his behavior even more peculiar. “Come on in.”

Carlton entered the room as soon as the permission fell from Luisen’s lips.