Circumstances of a Fallen Lord

Prologue: Before Regression

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Four men were beating a beggar in an alleyway.
You could see the scene with just a slight turn of the head, but all the passersby paid it no attention–because the four men were particularly infamous for being bad-tempered good-for-nothings, and the beaten man was just a no-name beggar.

The unlucky beggar, Luisen, curled up his body and endured the violence.
His coiled body resembled a mouse that had crawled up from the sewers.
He didn’t dare move a single muscle.
He knew that the more he resisted, the longer he would be beaten.
So, he tightly shut his mouth and covered his head with both arms.
Dry, straw-like hair trembled.

“Ah, what an intense guy.
Didn’t even make a single noise.”

The gangsters stuck out their tongues.
There had to be some kind of reaction for the beat-down to be satisfying; beating on a man who only curls up sucks the joy out of it.

“This is boring.
Let’s go play cards instead.”

“Sure.”

“Dirty bastard.
Don’t live your life like that.”

The good-for-nothings spat on Luisen’s trembling back and, snickering, exited the alleyway.

As soon as they disappeared, Luisen stood up while grasping at the wall.
Limping on one leg, he slowly moved forward.  Perhaps the punks hit something vital; every time he put weight on his foot, he felt dizzying agony.

He scraped the snow off the ground and used it to clean off his bloody mouth.

‘Awful jerks…’

It was those good-for-nothings that made the first proposal: ‘If you follow us, we’ll hand you a fairytale.’ Luisen had already been starving for two days now.
He begged all day and fulfilled odd jobs but was still unable to afford a loaf of bread.
With that one loaf, he could endure a few more days.
Snow was already falling–if he did not eat today, he would surely perish.

Biting back distaste, he had no choice but to accept the offer.
However, those men soon began to act as they pleased, grabbing his hair and pretending as if they didn’t know him.
When Luisen asked for the money they promised him, they jabbered some nonsense, “Aren’t you enjoying this?” Suddenly, they showed their ill-temper and began to beat him.

From the very beginning, they had no intention to give Luisen money.

‘If you don’t give me money, that’s fine.
But why hit me?’

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Sniffling, Luisen swallowed some tears.
The places hit by the punks throbbed.
His whole body ached, and his eyes became blurry as a fever began to come over him.
More unbearable than the body’s pain, though, was the misery.

‘In the old days, those people wouldn’t dare set eyes on my feet….’

Luisen had lived his entire life without knowing hunger nor hardships.
His father was the Duke of Anies, and his mother was a princess.
He was born the only son of the duke and succeeded him early.
The fertile plains of the south were all his.

He was one of only four land-owning lords in the kingdom.
Countless vassals were at his command, and he held the rights to tax them and put them on trial.
For the southern part of the kingdom, he held the same authority as the king.

As one of the great lords, he held the authority to host royal coronations and was able to marry into the royal family.
Even the king treated him with caution, and the queen made him the crown prince’s childhood friend, to make her son a strong candidate for succession.

He grew up playing in the palace as if it were his own home.
He only ate and wore the most precious and best things in the world.
Anything he wanted, he got.
He lacked for nothing, and not a shadow was cast over his life.

Those were perfect years.

Luisen Anies was not an existence a neighborhood punk would dare stare at.
These were people that should have knelt at his feet in complete obedience.
They were insignificant beings whose lives and deaths were overturned by his words.

But, how…

‘How did I end up like this?’

Three years ago, in spring, the king fainted.
The king was so old and sickly that everyone had already anticipated it.
The problem, however, was that the aging king fell into a deep coma without deciding on a successor.

Why, of all things, did the king have two distinguished sons?

The eldest, Ellion, was only the royal concubine’s child.
But, as the king’s eldest, he was given legal claim to the throne.
With his excellent schooling and character, he received praises for his kingly nature.

Paris, the younger, was the queen’s child.
Thus, no one could find fault in his right to succession.
Though his intelligence and character could not compare to that of Ellion, his personality was favorable and left good impressions.
All the powerful nobles supported him.

When the king collapsed, the second prince, Paris, gained control of the palace with the power of his mother, the queen.
Shortly before that, the first prince, Ellion, escaped to the north, where he had some influence, and began to raise a military presence.
Following the two princes, the kingdom split into two factions, and a civil war began.

Luisen and the Anies duchy stood by Prince Paris’ side.
There was no doubt in his allegiance, as Prince Paris was both a relative and his only friend.

Prince Ellion was victorious in the civil war that spanned half a year.
Prince Paris died during the war, and, when the first prince took control of the palace, the queen was officially imprisoned.
The king was at the brink of death, so the kingdom was practically in the hands of the first prince.
He then brandished his iron mace at Paris’ supporters.

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Even the Duke of Anies couldn’t avoid this fate.
In the fall of that year, Carlton, the prince’s sword, led the military to the dukedom.

Who is Carlton? Though he is low-born, the first prince recognized his overwhelming military strength.
He became an important figure to his faction.
Among the nobles, he had other titles more popular than ‘the prince’s sword,’: the prince’s butcher, the slaughterer, the noble massacre.
He despised those who boasted about their luck to be born as an aristocrat and scorned incompetent lords.

And Luisen was both.

Luisen was extremely frightened by the news of Carlton’s arrival.

‘Carlton will kill me.
He’ll kill me horribly.’

The young lord abandoned all work and confined himself in his room.
He left all upcoming battles up to fate and drank nothing but alcohol.
He was terrified and didn’t know how to properly respond–never in his life had he experienced a crisis like a civil war.

The peaceful life he enjoyed became a poison.
Day by day his terror grew.
And, when it became too unbearable, Luisen made an irreversible decision.

‘Let’s run away.
Let’s run far, far away to where he can’t chase me.’

He packed his fortunes and, in the midst of battle, escaped from the castle.
He had several vassals, relatives, and friends…surely one of them would take care of him.
He hazily believed that someone would help him.
It was a foolish decision made by a mind driven to tatters by fear.

The world became cold as soon as he lost his steady background as the Duke of Anies.
All of his trusted friends and relatives turned a blind eye to him.
The fortune he brought with him was taken away by muggers and conmen, and the servant that came with him died while chasing the criminals.
Too late, Luisen returned to the estate, but everything had already ended.

Angered by Luisen’s escape, Carlton massacred the citizens and set fire to various parts of the territory.
Still, that didn’t relieve his anger.
The heads of the vassals hung from the walls of the castle.
Crows flocked to the smell of rotting corpses, crying ominously.

The fire spread endlessly and razed the plains.
The yellow, ripe wheat in harvest season was devoured by the bright red flames.
Black smoke filled the sky, and the remaining survivors mourned.

At that sight, Luisen ran away once again.
He chose to turn away because he couldn’t cope with the tragedy he had wrought.

After that, he couldn’t settle down anywhere.
He felt as if Carlton was still chasing after him.
If he looked into the darkness, he felt as if he could hear the hooves of a black knight’s horse.

When he slept, without fail, he would dream of standing in a burning, golden field.
The dead became ghosts that followed Luisen.
They would trace his face with their nails, cut his neck, and crush his face.
With miserable, burned faces they would resentfully blame and curse him.

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The world is cruel to a wandering, mentally unstable man.

Due to the civil war and famine, the country was in dire straits.
People became unable to care for themselves.
Everyday life had broken down, and emotions such as sympathy and compassion had become a luxury.
Luisen had to survive on his own strengths.

‘Was I such a pathetic and helpless person?’

He was nothing after he lost his birthright and his family’s wealth.
Luisen was not good at accounting and didn’t know how to farm, nor was he fit enough for manual labor.
He couldn’t even fight.

He was ignorant to the ways of the world.
There was nothing he could do, even if he wanted to earn a living.

His money ran out quickly.
He sold his clothes, his shoes, and even his hair…but quickly found his limit.
For the first time in his life, Luisen experienced hunger.
His intestines felt twisted, and the sky became yellow.  1

‘Hurts.
It hurts so much.
Hungry, anything would be good.
I want to eat anything.’

His eyes rolled backwards.
His lofty pride shattered in the face of starvation.
Aristocratic refinement, morality, and values all collapsed.

For a meal, he would sell even his body and heart.
He didn’t hesitate to do all kinds of crimes, beg, and steal.
The struggle for survival was a symptom of the country’s collapsing existence and stability.

However, the food he ate in this way was so delicious he could cry.
He would weep while wolfing down unknown soup that he wouldn’t have even looked at while he was a duke.

Like that, three years passed.

No trace of Luisen’s time as a noble remained.
His body was as thin as a twig, and his complexion was yellowed and wan.
There were deep shadows underneath his eyes, making him look sickly.
For fear of being caught, he often crouched down and hid his body.
Ultimately, this resulted in a hunched back and a neck like a turtle.

Actually, it was a miracle that Luisen, who only knew how to eat and play, lasted for three years.
They said that the ruined wealthy could only survive for three years, and for him, this was exactly three years.
Now, he truly had nothing.
Even his beautiful appearance was ruined by a rough street life, and no one wanted it.

‘I’m hungry.
I’m hungry.
I’m hungry.’

Vertigo rose up within him.

Two days ago, he hid in the yard of some random family and stole and ate their dog’s food.
Come to think of it, that was his last meal.
Due to the lack of food available for people, even dog food was too precious to waste.

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‘I want to eat anything.
Anything’s good, I just want to eat.’

He now thought a lot about when he was a duke–the food he would barely touch due to a lack of appetite.

A wide and long table filled densely with mounds of delicacies.
He shouldn’t have left it.
He should have eaten it all without wasting a single bite.
If he were handed that now, he would even lick the plates clean.

He missed those days so much.
Why couldn’t he have understood the preciousness of his life at that time?

Eventually, Luisen burst into tears.
He knew crying would only waste energy.
Even so, he couldn’t stop the tears.

The snowy path was slippery, and his legs were unstable.
In his agitated state, he lost his balance and tumbled, falling down.

*Crash*

The snow was cold, and his one and only clothes became wet.
He was in a situation where he had no place to dry his clothes nor to change into new ones.
He had to stand up quickly so he could shake off the snow and salvage what dryness he had.
Otherwise, if he slept outside in cold, wet clothes, he could develop tuberculosis.

But Luisen didn’t not move at all.
He sobbed with his head still stuck in the snow.

‘I should have died back then.
Even if I had died, I would have died as a noble rather than living like this.’

‘Maybe then the vassals and the citizens wouldn’t have died.
This isn’t a life that’s worth sacrificing all of them.
I’m not useful anywhere, neither as a noble, not as the Duke of Anies, and not even to myself.’

‘If I’m going to die anyway…it would have been better to not run away.’.

Luisen felt anguish as countless regrets pierced his heart.
He was weakened to the point that his heart couldn’t bear the intense grief.
As his body cooled down, he felt his consciousness fading away.
The knife-like pangs of cold and hunger slowly began to disappear.

“Rather than dying like this….”

 

Footnotes

Slang for becoming disoriented