'I've never seen a corpse like that before.'
It was as if not a single drop of moisture remained in his body, and his skin was dried up and had raw scratches here and there.
The doctor muttered in horror that the Count had become like that overnight. No one knew it at the time.
'I never thought the entire Count's family would die like that.'
There was no separate line of deaths. After the Count, the Countess, and soon, people with the Rhineland surname died one after another. At the same time, the family's wealth increased day by day.
Cedric Rhineland, the eldest son who succeeded to the Count's throne, was the typical nobleman who was born with good bloodlines but objectively had no ability. However, every business he started was a huge success.
'How could that be? It's strange even now when I think about it. Well, thanks to the suspicious deaths of the Count's family, I was able to plan to take away Erne's title.'
Cedric was obsessed with wealth. His passion for business bordered on madness. He cared little for anyone who died, even his own death.
'He was holding onto the documents while spitting up blood. Ah, I shouldn't have thought about it.'
Cliff didn't want to go into the mansion at all, because he remembered the horrific corpse and Cedric's bloody appearance. Even if there were no ghosts, there would probably be about a dozen of them.
"..."
You, a ghost?
Cliff's expression turned pale as he saw the man coming out of the Count's mansion. Cliff quickly hid behind his horse.
Cliff can't see his face very well because he's wearing a hood, but his gait and physique look familiar. No, it can't be Erne.
The moment his fingertips trembled, the man's hood blew back slightly in the blowing wind. A smooth jawline, a straight nose, and cool green eyes.
"Uh, Erne?"
The man he had poisoned and buried was walking around alive and well.
"Why is he alive?"
The body he killed came back.
***
I opened my eyes in surprise as the center of gravity tilted forward. When I came to, I must have dozed off while organizing things like dye and pots. Before I knew it, it was pitch black outside.
"Ugh. my back."
I, who was stretching out, suddenly remembered what had happened during the day. I had been feeling hazy ever since I drank the water Erne had given me.
Even though I had to work hard and meet my quota for today, my mind was hazy as if I had no idea how I made the noodles and ate dinner.
"Is it because Leon grabbed my hair earlier?"
Why did the guy who handled the cards in the casino have such a strong hand? My scalp still felt throbbing.
If we ever meet again, I will definitely get revenge, Leon Harrington.
I, who was gritting my teeth while organizing my belongings, was startled by the sound of something heavy hitting the wall.
"What is it? Sir Erne?"
I slowly opened the door, holding an empty pot of melting wax.
"What, what is this?"
The thing that had been hit was a person. A person with a black mask covering his face and bleeding. A pool of black blood had gathered at the person's feet.
What, are you dead?
A chill ran down my spine in an instant. If I hadn't been holding the door open, I would have collapsed on the spot.
A familiar back figure blocked Judith's sight, who had turned pale. Blood dripped from the tip of Erne's sword.
"Sir..."
"Don't come out."
I couldn't help but say this.
“It's already here.”
Erne looked back at me, forgetting the rule of never taking his eyes off the enemy.
"What? Has the effect worn off?"
“Medicine? What medicine, ugh!”
Before I could even ask what he meant, a dark sword flew towards me. Erne deftly swatted the sword away, grabbed my arm, and pushed me into the room.
"Stay In."
I wanted to do that too.
"Hey, someone came in through my window too."
If it weren't for the dark figure anding in front of the window and glaring at me, Erne glanced around the room through the gap in the door and then pulled me towards him.
"Do you have a grudge against anyone? It can't be the people your brother hired."
He slowly backed away, keeping an eye on the assassin approaching from ahead and the man coming out of my room.
If you add those two to the two he just dealt with, there were a whopping four assassins.
Considering that usually only one or two were sent, four assassins could not be explained without some Incredible grudge.
"Grudge? There's no such thing."
"Are you sure? Think about it carefully. I think it might be there."
Erne slowly pushed me towards the wall.
"Just stand there quietly. If anything flies at you, hit it with the pot."
I looked down at the pot in my hand. It had been sturdy enough to make a candle, but why did it look so weak when used to deal with an assassin?
"Even if you're scared, don't close your eyes. If you look straight ahead, you can knock them all out."
What kind of baseball is memorization? I should look straight at it and hit it. But unfortunately, that's the only way for now.
"Sir, there are two people over there. Will it be okay for you to go alone?"
My voice was filled with worry. In the original work. Erne was portrayed as one of the most capable knights, but after watching him for a few days, distrust began to grow in my heart.
Lying around all day, complaining about side dishes at the drop of a hat, drinking alcohol, and even investigating his death. Henry did all the work while Erne just listened.
Although he did subdue Leon, it was difficult to call it subduing since Leon ran away when he saw the sword.
"You already took care of two of them?"
"It's different taking on two people while protecting you."
Erne looked back at me as if asking what I meant.
"Is it your job to protect your own body?"
Suddenly, the grip on the pot handle tightened. If I hit Erne on the back of the head with this... it won't work.
"Look up ahead, up ahead. That guy is about to throw something!"
I turned Erne around and held the pot as a shield. As he turned around, dark auras flew from both sides. The dark auras scattered here and there on the thin blade.
If this were to end with just defense, I, who didn't know much about fighting, would know that we were at a disadvantage.
If Erne goes to the right, the one on the left will attack me, and if Erne goes to the left, the one on the right will attack me.
At that moment, when I was wondering how to get out of here, Erne reached out behind me and pulled me forward.
"Shield me now...!”
"No, just stay still."
As Erne turned to the right while hugging Judith, the sound of something sharp piercing flesh pierced my eardrums.
There was no time to scream. Erne's sword sliced through the assassin's thigh and dug into his shoulder as he lunged forward.
"Ugh."
As the assassin fell forward, Erne grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me against the wall. The dark sword flying from behind struck his shoulder, where I was holding him, in a split second.
"Sir!"
I screamed in surprise, but Erne, who was actually stabbed in the chest, only furrowed his eyebrows and did not even check the wound. He simply adjusted his grip on his sword and stepped towards the remaining assassins. The blood dripping from his left hand traced the path Erne had taken.
As the sword extended straight towards the assassin's neck, the assassin hurriedly swung his sword. Erne charged forward without paying attention as if he was going to throw away his injured left shoulder.
The assassin backed away and threw sharp, needle-like daggers at Erne. Most of them were blocked by his sword, but a few that were not blocked landed directly on Erne's right forearm.
With the secret weapon still embedded, his sword drew a long diagonal line. At that moment, I thought that I couldn't tell who the blood spraying in the air belonged to.
"Ugh."
The dark-masked figure collapsed first.
Erne nonchalantly pulled out the needle stuck in his right arm and grabbed the whining assassin's hair, pulling it back.
"Who sent you?"
The assassin was talking about something, but I couldn't hear him very well.
"You said you put poison on it, so I'm going to do it soon? Did I ask you if you put poison on it just now? Who sent you?"
It seems that the poison was applied to the secret weapon. Despite being hit by the poisoned secret weapon, Erne was annoyed, saying that the answer did not match the intent of the question.
Is he really crazy? While I blinked my eyes, Erne grabbed the assassin by the hair and shook him.
"Don't die yet. Open your eyes, your eyes."
“It's .......”
“You can't tell me that? Yeah, well, that would tell me who they're after.”
He muttered something with his lips wide open, his throat boiling with blood. I also pricked up my ears out of curiosity.
"What, you're already gone? Come back for a bit."
Erne grabbed the assassin's chin and shook it from side to side. But it's not like someone who has already passed away will come back.
I clicked her tongue inwardly and then came to my senses. Then I noticed Erne's injuries.
"Uh, Sir, are you okay?"
Erne's wings were pierced with a blade, and blood flowed from his veined forearm, dripping down his fingers.
"It's not okay."
"Are you in a lot of pain?"
“I should have asked Miss Judith Herrington what evil things you're been up to, but I didn't.”
He let out a sigh as if he was truly sorry. Judith I at him, speechless.
“That's strange. I obviously saved your life, so why are you not thanking me?”
“That's because you have a flexible conscience.”
Erne muttered as he threw the assassin down and stood up.
"You could almost say that I have no conscience. From now on, don't say I'm flexible. Just say I have no conscience. Be honest."
"What are you saying?"
"Okay, thank you is enough."
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