Those Who Live Without the Law

Chapter 2

Pardon (2)

* * *

The knight, who had been pondering for a moment, soon spoke.

"I cannot delay even a day over the likes of your promise. Call that block Supervisor and write the letter right now."

"Thank you for your consideration."

After receiving permission, I was left alone in the prison cell with the cell leader. What I had to do was simple.

When the cell leader spoke, I took down his words on brownish recycled paper, using an ink-like mixture made by blending leftover ash with water.

"Have you said everything you wished to say?"

At my question, the cell leader nodded and handed me four cigarettes.

Even though my release was just around the corner, I did not refuse the payment for my labor and accepted it.

When the letter-writing was finished, there was still a bit of time left.

"Once you’re out, do you have anywhere to go?"

"Of course. Outside the Carlson Labor Correctional Facility."

There was nowhere for me to go. My whole family was dead, and the family’s wealth had likely already been devoured by other ravenous noble houses.

As His Majesty the Emperor had declared in his edict, the only thing promised to me was freedom.

And even that was merely returning what had been taken due to a misunderstanding. A bit of travel money would be provided, but it was truly nothing more than a pittance.

At my words, the cell leader bit down on his cigarette and struck a match as he spoke.

"How about trying your luck in Bennett City?"

I looked at the cell leader, deep in thought about something, and finally answered.

"My word, have you already come to miss my face? Are you telling me to come back here before I’ve even left?"

"Cut the crap. What the hell would I do seeing your mug again. Couldn’t even use it for wiping my ass."

Bennett City. A well-known place situated in the western borderlands of the Valorn Empire. I had ghostwritten dozens of letters addressed to that city.

I’d heard it was such a lawless town that even the most common restaurants on the street would hire guards for their safety.

Even in this labor correctional facility, if someone said they were from Bennett City, there were hardly any fools who dared to mess with them that was how infamous it was.

"I heard it’s a place where they do anything that makes money, and even things that don’t make money, they find a way to turn into profit."

"A fellow I used to be close with opened a restaurant there. Was it three years ago? Thanks to you helping send letters back and forth, I learned about it."

The cell leader flicked the cigarette in his hand, dropping the ash on the floor, then looked at me.

"If you mention my name, he’ll at least give you a job as a waiter. That bastard was good at cooking, so I doubt the place has gone under."

"I never thought I’d be getting job recommendations from this wretched place. Well, I’ll think about it. Thank you."

At my words, the cell leader raised his middle finger and spoke.

"Shut it, you punk. If I serve about ten more years, I’ll be out of this damn prison too. When that time comes, don’t you dare pretend you don’t know me."

"Ten years in Bennett City, huh. I don’t know if someone as mild as me could survive there for a decade."

"Bullshit. It’s called Longwave Bistro, located at No. 47 Mahogany Park. If you’re interested, go there and say Tommy sent you. If that bastard owner starts spouting nonsense, just say ‘Cloud Lighthouse,’ and he’ll understand."

The cell leader waved his hand as if to say he was done with me.

"Now get lost. Congratulations on becoming a free man, you treacherous bastard. Ah, right, not anymore. The bastard who was thought to be a traitor."

Congratulations, he said. At those words, I gave the cell leader a small nod and left the prison cell.

The moment I stepped out, my expression turned as cold as ice.

The family that had been annihilated, the six years wasted away, every last bit of the family’s wealth and rights that must have vanished without a trace.

And what did I receive as compensation for all of it?

Nothing but the freedom of my own body.

"Is the Emperor dumber than I thought?"

If I had been in His Majesty the Emperor’s position, I would never have released someone like me. Or perhaps it was merely a careless judgment thinking, What could possibly happen by letting one man go?

‘Or else…there might be some reason behind it.’

It didn’t matter. What was important now was that I was free. I walked through the corridor of the prison cells, filled with frigid air, and stepped outside.

"Your travel money."

A new identification card was handed to me. All traces of the family’s name, insignia, and decorations were erased, leaving only the plain name Kairus on it.

Together with the ID, a few bills were pressed into my hand. Altogether, it was 150 Pinte.

With 50 Pinte, one could buy a sack of wheat. This exchange rate never changed. The currency of the Valorn Empire, Pinte, was pegged to the value of wheat.

In other words, the price of spending six years in the Carlson Labor Correctional Facility was three sacks of wheat.

That fact stuck in my chest like a thorn.

"Get on the cargo bed of the vehicle. You will be transported to the nearest village from the Carlson Labor Correctional Facility."

The nearest village, he said. I opened my mouth.

"I didn’t know there was a village nearby."

"It’s about a three-day drive by carriage."

"Does the village have a train station, by any chance?"

"No."

The knight turned on his heel as if there was nothing more to say. I mulled over his words and clicked my tongue.

"This is why there’s no point trying to escape."

If it took three days by carriage to reach the nearest village, how long would it take on foot?

If you ran away, you’d collapse and die from exhaustion, and if you veered even slightly off course, you’d never arrive in the village at all.

Kairus quietly climbed into the cargo bed. It was a space that didn’t give a damn about the comfort of its passengers.

The engine rumbled for a moment, and soon the carriage began to move. Inside the jostling cargo bed, I passed the time in silence.

"Sir, if I may be so bold… I believe we should consider limiting our meal."

After traveling for quite a while, evening came, and the driver carefully spoke to the knight.

"What nonsense are you on about now?"

The knight spoke in a tone that made it clear he was quite displeased.

"This time of year, the wolves grow violent because they lack food. If they catch the scent of cooking…"

The driver trailed off, glancing at the meal being prepared for the knight. Looked like he intended to roast meat.

"You worthless bastard. Are you saying I shouldn’t even eat properly because I’m afraid of a few damned wolves?"

A few wolves, he said. I started to feel slightly worried about whether the knight had the skills to back up such words.

After all, a truly skilled knight wouldn’t be here in this frozen, godforsaken mountain wasteland just to escort prisoners.

Besides, I knew perfectly well what those ‘few’ wolves were like. Around this season, they sometimes prowled even near the Carlson Labor Correctional Facility.

The wolves in this region were much larger and more vicious than the wolves elsewhere. If ordinary wolves ever crossed paths with these, they’d get chewed up like dog treats in an instant.

"In my humble opinion, you’d do well to heed the driver’s advice."

"Don’t soil my ears with your worthless opinions."

The knight dismissed my suggestion without a shred of interest. Usually, people like that didn’t live very long. I shut my mouth right away.

There was no point provoking his temper. That would only earn me a beating or a stream of curses.

"Sir, you speak that way because you don’t understand the wolves of this region. They have no fear of men at all…"

But the driver, who had started speaking, turned out to be quite stubborn. Naturally, our proud knight rewarded that stubbornness accordingly.

A prize sometimes called the rod of love, or the guiding hand. Others called it a punch to the face.

A bruise, like a medal for courageous counsel, bloomed across the driver’s cheek. Perhaps he was very satisfied with this prize, because he finally fell silent.

"The smell really is incredible."

I muttered to myself as I looked at the oat porridge set before me and the steak the knight was tearing into.

The knight, sitting at a proper table to devour his beef, and I, crouching awkwardly to avoid the snow-covered ground as I ate oat porridge and potatoes.

It was a vivid display of the difference in our stations. Six years ago, our roles would have been completely reversed.

And I wasn’t the only one thinking that way. The knight, licking his lips as he stared at the grilled steak, glanced at me with an immense sense of satisfaction.

While the meal had been prepared, the knight had perused the papers about me and discovered which family I had originally belonged to.

"So you’re a Featherwing?"

I didn’t answer. In the past, this knight wouldn’t have even dared to lift his gaze to meet my face.

House Featherwing. A lineage that, over roughly 300 years, had produced two commanders of the Imperial Knights, seven Imperial Army Marshals, eight Imperial Blades, and three Deans of the Imperial Academy’s Department of Military Science.

Not once had the head of House Featherwing failed to hold the title of Imperial Blade, an honor granted to the ten strongest warriors in the Empire.

"Truly, you never know what life has in store."

The noble young master of such a house, now happily shoveling down something that looked like boiled animal feed.

To this knight, there was no greater satisfaction than seeing the direct heir and last survivor of House Featherwing lowering himself and speaking respectfully to the likes of him.

"Come to think of it, they say you even lost the family’s emblem?"

At those words, I looked straight at him.

"Could you please explain that in more detail?"

My voice was quiet and composed. But beneath that calm gaze, something was roiling, ready to explode at any moment.

Startled for an instant by my look, the knight quickly turned his eyes away and muttered.

"How the hell should I know? Somebody probably stole it."

I nodded at that answer.

"I see. Thank you."

I said nothing further and continued eating while I turned his words over in my mind.

"Disappeared? The family’s emblem?"

Truthfully, even if the cell leader had recommended it, I hadn’t intended to head to Bennett City. I wasn’t such a fool as to walk straight from a prison cell into a city tailor-made to land me back in one.

But if the family’s emblem was truly gone, then my thinking had to change.

"If someone really did steal it like he said, they couldn’t sell it through any legitimate means."

They would have to offload it through fences dealing in smuggled goods. And any criminal of modest means wouldn’t have the capability to handle an item as significant as the Featherwing family’s emblem.

But Bennett City there, there might be a big player who could.

At the very least, I could secure useful information.

That was the moment I decided I would go to Bennett City.

"Excuse me. Would you mind moving a bit?"

At that moment, the driver his face bruised grabbed a handful of snow and rubbed it over his cheek as he asked me to clear a spot.

He could have sat beside me to eat, but it seemed he had no desire to do so. I could fully understand. Not just anyone ended up in Carlson Labor Correctional Facility.

No one wanted to have a meal beside a notorious criminal. I quietly stepped aside and continued my meal in a corner.

Suddenly, a wolf’s howl echoed through the air. It sounded very close.

"Seems they’d like to join the table."

Well, it was only natural. They’d scattered the smell of roasting meat all over the place of course the wolves would want to shove their heads right into the meal.

I quickly swallowed down the rest of the oat porridge and potatoes and rinsed my mouth with a gulp of water.

"Damn it, what the hell!"

The knight hastily drew his sword and scanned the area. Truth be told, it was too dark to see anything. He was just putting on a show.

I couldn’t help but feel a kind of awe as I watched the knight hold his sword.

"My God, that’s a knight? Then what have I been looking at all these years?"

The way he held the sword, the position of his weight and his feet, his breathing and focus every detail was a disaster, so flawed I wouldn’t know where to begin correcting him.

The butchers at the meat market would handle a blade better than this knight.

With skills like that, fighting wolves was impossible. He was no different from a clam showing off in front of a crane.

"Goddamn it, how many of the bastards are there!"

When the knight lit the kerosene lamp, the predators’ shapes finally emerged, glinting with hunger.

Their massive bodies drooled as they bared their fangs and growled. The sword clutched in both of the knight’s hands looked about as effective as a toothpick.