Chapter 6
Although he had resolved to get back on his feet, the reality that immediately confronted him was far too overwhelming.
He was not alone, and because he had hurried here, he had spent every penny he had; all his belongings, including his home, had burned.
The land he had farmed was not his either, and there was no way he could start farming again here, where there was no one and nothing.
Just then, someone placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t need to pay me. I’m going back with an empty cart anyway, so I might as well take you along. Besides, you have a child. We’ll make a fire here tonight and take you to the castle at daybreak.”
It was the middle-aged man who had given them a ride.
He seemed to have come looking for them himself because he had grown worried when they failed to return for a while.
Patting Ethan on the shoulder, he continued.
“It’s getting late, so I think we should set out tomorrow morning. Pull yourself together and come over here.”
“I… I’ll just take care of the bodies before I go.”
“Are you insane? Think of your daughter. It looks like a plague swept through here, and if something happens to you too, how will your daughter survive? Come on.”
He gently brushed aside the middle-aged man’s hand as it tried to pull him along and said,
“I’ll just take the ring… the ring.”
“Fine. Hurry. We need to prepare camp before sunset.”
“… Thank you.”
Holding his daughter tightly in one arm, he knelt down.
As he drew closer to Marta’s body, a nauseating stench like burning flesh and fat filled the air.
A gag rose in his throat, but he could not step back.
He could not leave her here.
Even if it was only a part of her, even if it was merely her ring, he had to salvage it from this hell.
He held his breath.
Wrapping a dirty scrap of cloth around his hand, he slowly reached for her finger.
The ring rolled into his hand from beneath skin that crumbled like charcoal.
The ring was still hot, as though she had been alive only moments ago.
Suppressing his surging emotions, he secured the ring with trembling hands.
He began walking after the middle-aged man leading the way.
The irregular breathing in his arms had become regular before he knew it.
She seemed to have cried herself to sleep.
The thought that she would be happier in a dream than in this reality seemed to offer him at least a little comfort.
“Come to think of it, we never introduced ourselves. I’m Damon. What’s your name?”
“… I’m Ethan. This is Ella.”
“I see. Since things have turned out this way, I hope we can get along for the rest of the journey, Ethan. Ah, the soup’s ready. She needs to eat dinner, so why don’t you wake her now?”
“Yes…”
He gently stroked Ella’s head, having held her in his arms without letting go even once, then began gently shaking her.
“Ella. You need to eat. Wake up now.”
“D… Dad? Dad! Wh… What about Mom? Alex?”
When his daughter asked the question in a near-scream the moment she woke up, Ethan could not say a word.
He could only force a faint smile to hide his tears and bury his daughter’s face against his chest.
“Dad… I’m okay now… I’ll eat.”
After he had held her against his chest for who knew how long, Ella had stopped crying and mumbled in a tear-choked voice,
“Here you go. It’s hot, so be careful.”
He accepted the wooden bowl Damon handed him and slowly blew on it.
He lifted a spoon to his daughter’s mouth.
“Ah.”
Ella shook her head once, but his hand remained frozen in place, trembling.
A drop of soup trickled down Ella’s chin.
He was afraid of losing his daughter too.
If he took her out of his arms, it felt as though she would disappear somewhere.
She no longer resisted and obediently opened her mouth.
He met her eyes.
In that small face, beneath the sorrow and fear, lay a rational calm far beyond her years, as though she were trying to understand and endure the situation.
It was as if she understood his irrational behavior.
“Then what will you do from here? I can only help you until we reach Lugdonum. I have quite a lot to take care of.”
‘Farming? I have no land. A porter? Where would I put Ella? A merchant? I have no capital.’
As countless thoughts ran through his mind, the notice he had seen in Lugdonum during the day suddenly came back to him.
‘Executioner wanted. Tax exemption, lodging provided. Applicants should report to the Church.’
His hand reflexively moved to the ax at his waist.
He was fairly confident with an ax, and lodging was an excellent offer for someone who had nowhere to stay right now.
Lodging, tax exemption, and a considerable salary.
But he would have to place himself beneath the Church’s shadow.
Beneath the very people who had burned his wife, his son, and his village.
He would also be completely ostracized from society.
He could endure it, but could his still-young daughter withstand being shunned?
On top of that, it would be difficult to find a suitable match for his daughter.
Even so, he had no choice right now.
Saving Ella was his top priority.
“I saw the notice recruiting an executioner on the bulletin board today. For now, that’s probably my best option.”
“Judging by your build, it shouldn’t be difficult for you, but are you really all right with this?”
“I can’t think of anything better right now. It has to be better than starving to death, doesn’t it?”
“It’s your choice, so I can’t say anything about it. I understand. Good luck.”
Lying on the cart, he tightly held his wife’s ring in one hand and his daughter’s hand in the other.
“I’ll protect Ella.”
He clenched the hand gripping the ring once more.
“Watch over me. This time will be different.”
The journey back was filled with silence.
Only the creaking of the cart’s wheels and the weary horse’s rough breathing filled the air around them.
Ethan stared blankly into space, while Ella slept motionless in his arms.
When they passed through the same checkpoint as before, Damon stopped the cart.
With a gruff expression, he handed Ethan a leather pouch.
“Here, take it. It’s just a little something to eat. You need to fill your stomach right away, don’t you? You two probably need it more than I do.”
Words of refusal rose to the back of his throat, but when he thought of how little money he had, he could not bring himself to refuse.
… I don’t know how I can ever repay this kindness.”
Hearing Ethan’s dry voice, Damon merely waved a hand.
“There’s no need to repay me. Just… No, never mind… Anyway, stay strong, Ethan, if only for your daughter’s sake.”
With those final words, Damon pulled on the horse’s reins.
The cart rattled away.
Ethan watched until the cart disappeared behind the buildings, then felt Ella’s wheezing breath in his arms and slowly began to walk.
Their destination was clear.
A building clad in dazzling white materials that looked extraordinarily expensive.
A cross entwined with grapevines hung above the building.
The church was as large as the lord’s castle, so it seemed as though it could be seen from anywhere in the city.
That’s it.
The place where the tragedy that had taken his wife, his son, and everything he had began.
He felt anger boiling inside him, but the fact that there was nothing he could do weighed heavily upon him.
He wanted to give up everything.
Just then, Ella, held in his arms, shifted slightly as though she were uncomfortable.
Ethan lowered his head and looked at Ella.
The one flame left in his world—the only thing he had to protect.
“For Ella’s sake.”
He forced down the anger and pride boiling inside him.
With trembling steps, he began walking toward the church once more.
At the front of the Church of Lugdonum, a priest in clean white clothes stood before him, contrasting sharply with Ethan, who was covered in ash and dust.
“May abundance be yours, brother. What brings you here?”
But despite his welcoming words, the priest was looking Ethan and Ella up and down, taking in their shabby appearance.
Despite the priest’s cold, contemptuous tone, Ethan could do nothing but lower his head.
‘Ethan, you knew all this before coming. You have to endure. For Ella’s sake, too.’
Repeating those words inwardly, he barely managed to open his mouth.
“… I saw the notice saying you were recruiting an executioner. I’ve come to apply for the position.”
At those words, the priest’s gaze began to change.
With cold eyes, he meticulously examined Ethan’s sturdy body and rough hands.
It was like the way a farmer looked at livestock before buying it.
Soon, a smile spread across his face once he had finished his inspection.
“You have honored us with your visit. The fact that no one has applied yet must be God’s grace, bringing us together. Follow me.”
Despite his warm words, his eyes held a faint glimmer of contempt.
Ethan did not realize that Ella, held in his arms, was staring intently at the priest’s face as though observing the man who had stopped them.
After that, everything proceeded smoothly.
“My name is Lilien. The procedure you need to undergo is simple.”
The man’s smile was thin, and his eyes seemed to be calculating as the priest guided him inside.
“Liam Village… Ah, that’s where the purification was completed. What about your family?”
“… They died.”
“I see. Many people died. But since you have no symptoms, quarantine won’t be necessary.”
Lilien said it as casually as though he were discussing the weather.
Ethan swallowed his anger.
Blood welled from his palm where his nails had dug into it.
‘…For Ella’s sake.’
Perhaps the priest had been telling the truth about there being no applicants; the entire process proceeded with ease.
“Kneel.”
Lilien spoke in a low voice.
Ethan knelt on one knee without putting his daughter down.
“Swear that, in the name of God, you will strike down sinners under the command of the Church.”
Ethan’s mouth would not open.
‘Swear an oath to those who burned the village…’
Lilien merely waited coldly.
He felt Ella in his arms.
Her small weight and warm presence.
“I swear.”
“Good. You are now the Church’s executioner.”
His wife’s and son’s faces flashed before his eyes, but he did not close them.
He repeated to himself that this oath was merely a means of protecting his daughter.
Before he knew it, he was holding a large ax for beheading, along with black clothing and a hood bearing an engraved cross.
Items representing his new identity from that day forward.
A black cord was tied around the doorknob of the house on the outskirts of town that the Church had given him.
A mark indicating that he was an executioner.
One small room and one kitchen.
This was now the place where they would live.