267th Episode
When the sky had grown dim and heavy.
Ray entered a tavern alone and ordered a drink.
Ray ordered the finest liquor the tavern had to offer, but what the owner brought out was cheap stuff, far inferior to what one could easily find and enjoy in the Imperial Capital.
Unbothered, Ray filled his glass and drank it down.
To begin with, Ray didn’t know much about the taste of alcohol. The only thing he could confidently discern was its alcohol content.
Those who knew Ray would occasionally pretend to acknowledge him before leaving their seats, sensing that his expression looked particularly unpleasant.
Clang!
Ray created some ice and dropped it into his glass.
Although the drink wasn’t meant to be served with ice, Ray preferred it cold.
As Ray silently tilted his glass alone, the tavern door swung open.
The newcomers were mercenaries.
Hearing rumors of an impending war, they had come to Phillip’s County seeking any potential gains or work.
If the residents abandoned their homes to flee, these mercenaries wouldn’t hesitate to ransack them.
They were little more than low-level thugs.
The mercenaries spread out, claiming a large section of the tavern, and began chattering noisily.
All sorts of coarse insults tumbled from their lips, revealing their rough demeanor.
As time passed and their drunkenness deepened, their voices grew louder.
Ray, whose expression was already stiff, simply felt irritated.
As Ray quietly sipped his drink, he turned his head toward the group of mercenaries. One mercenary who made eye contact with Ray immediately frowned.
“What’re you staring at, kid?”
The mercenary spat out an insult, then scrutinized Ray’s face, furrowing his brows.
“Hey, this guy looks unfamiliar. Are you new around here?”
“…”
“Did you come alone? Hey, come over here.”
Seeing someone act like the master of someone else’s home, Ray chuckled softly.
As Ray’s laughter erupted, the tavern fell silent.
The mercenaries became angry, while the locals glanced nervously at Ray.
The people of Phillip’s County were aware that Ray had bestowed ‘titles’ upon Jimy and Matthew, and they roughly understood how absurd such an act was.
With curiosity and fear mingling in their eyes, they alternated their gaze between Ray and the mercenaries.
Ray finished his drink and briefly spoke.
“The water quality has deteriorated significantly.”
“What’s this guy talking about?”
One of the mercenaries approached Ray aggressively.
The tavern owner, anticipating trouble, quietly retrieved a rag from beneath the counter to wipe away the inevitable blood.
At that moment, the tavern door swung open again, and another person entered.
It was Jimy.
Jimy glanced around the room, then signaled to the mercenary approaching Ray with an air of annoyance.
“Don’t cause a commotion. Sit back down and drink your liquor.”
“What’s this now?”
One of the gathered mercenaries stood up and approached Jimy.
In the next instant, there was a crack of breaking bones as the man hit the floor.
As the mercenary clutched his broken leg and screamed in pain, the others reflexively jumped up from their seats, drawing their weapons.
Just as harsh curses were about to spill from the mercenaries’ mouths, the tavern owner shouted loudly.
“Hey, you lunatics!! How dare you draw weapons against Lord Helm?!?!”
That single sentence threw the mercenaries into confusion.
Looking around nervously, the mercenaries found themselves faced with Jimy, who silently drew his sword.
A blue Sword Aura bloomed from Jimy’s blade.
Only then did the mercenaries fully grasp the situation.
Though Jimy’s attire was simple, the sword he wielded radiated an extraordinary aura, marking it as a renowned weapon.
The Sword Aura emanating from the blade was exceptionally stable in form.
This was no amateur wielding a blade.
The mercenaries quickly discarded their weapons and knelt.
“We’ve committed a grave offense! Please have mercy on us!”
They all repeated similar phrases in quick succession.
The mercenaries realized they were no match for Jimy, and even if they were, challenging a Noble was sheer madness.
Drenched in cold sweat, the mercenaries begged for forgiveness from Jimy.
Jimy stared at them for a long while before speaking.
“Don’t recklessly cause trouble. If you want to keep your heads, sit quietly and wait until you can take on proper jobs.”
Jimy grabbed the collar of the mercenaries’ leader and pulled him close for a final warning.
“Lord Philip Count loves his citizens. If you harm them without cause, your lives won’t be easy to preserve.”
A robust adult male dangled helplessly in Jimy’s single hand.
The leader of the mercenaries gulped audibly and nodded up and down.
Jimy released the collar and waved his hand dismissively.
“Get out.”
At Jimy’s command, the mercenaries bowed their heads and shuffled out of the tavern.
As the atmosphere settled back into quiet, Jimy took the seat beside Ray.
“Drinking alone?”
“Yes… though it seems the water quality has worsened considerably.”
“Things are especially restless lately.”
Rumors of war with the Rubia Kingdom were spreading.
Whenever chaos arose, opportunists flocked to Phillip’s County, which bordered the Rubia Kingdom, hoping to profit from the situation.
Even disregarding that, the general environment had indeed deteriorated compared to before.
Until just a few years ago, Ray had been fanatically managing every aspect of the area.
Thugs shaking people down for money, flaunting their strength… villagers trading influence and bribes for power… children without parents being exploited like slaves…
Such scenes were commonplace everywhere, varying only in degree.
However, Ray detested such things pathologically and managed them strictly.
Once Ray stepped back, some minor issues inevitably reverted to their former state.
Still, compared to when Jimy first arrived in Phillip’s County, the environment and awareness had improved beyond recognition.
Residents who used to behave cruelly and ignorantly gradually became more likable and humane, prompting Lord Philip Count to show greater affection for his territory.
In this way, a virtuous cycle was established, leading to the current state.
Initially, both Lord Philip Count and the county itself were different from what they are now.
It was Ray who completely transformed them.
Clang!
Ray floated some ice in his glass and handed it to Jimy.
Since the drink wasn’t meant to be consumed with ice, Jimy frowned, but Ray suddenly asked,
“Jimy, do you know when I committed my first murder?”
Silence enveloped the space.
No answer came despite the wait.
Jimy simply… didn’t want to know when Ray had committed his first murder.
Knowing such information would be utterly useless, offering no benefit whatsoever.
Thus, Jimy remained silent.
Ray refilled his glass, reminiscing about the past.
Ray had killed people.
From a very young age, under the guise of protecting Bella and the world, Ray had taken lives.
Physically, killing someone wasn’t particularly difficult.
Mana, the source of energy, granted superhuman strength to the human body.
Wasn’t it the same energy that enabled a knight at their peak to split the heavens?
Of course, even if a child of five or six miraculously manipulated mana, they could only gain adult-level strength for a short period, but that was enough.
Hiding a small dagger, stumbling forward with a tiny frame, and stabbing it into an unsuspecting opponent’s vital spot wasn’t a hard task.
Therefore, physically, killing someone wasn’t particularly difficult.
Furthermore, mentally, it wasn’t particularly challenging either.
The further back in time one went, the more cold-blooded and cruel Ray’s personality became.
As an infant, Ray hated this world.
He hated the transcendent being that had cast him into this world and everything living within it.
Thus, the Ray of the past didn’t experience proper guilt when taking lives.
The Ray of the past disposed of people as if optimizing a computer system based on shallow criteria.
Useful ones.
Useless ones.
Harmful ones.
Ray categorized people into three types and tried to eliminate those classified as harmful whenever possible.
Age was no consideration.
Personality disorders and violent tendencies caused by genetic traits manifest clearly from a young age and cannot be corrected through education, at least according to the knowledge Ray possessed from his previous life.
So, if the severity reached a certain level, Ray eliminated them.
Ray consistently excluded elements that could exert negative influence on Phillip’s County, raising the overall consciousness level artificially through this process.
Only Ray knew exactly how much bloodshed lay behind the warm smiles flowing through the current Phillip’s County.
“…”
Ray overlapped his past self with Luna.
Ray loved Bella and fully respected her choices.
He also tried to persuade Bella according to the situation.
But if Bella insisted, Ray would twist the situation to accommodate her.
Ray willingly sacrificed himself for Bella without hesitation.
The Ray of the past was much rougher, more extreme, and more twisted than the present-day Luna.
How terrifying and bizarre would his true nature appear if fully revealed to others?
Ray voiced his thoughts aloud.
“Jimy, how do you see me? How monstrous does my image appear to you?”
Ray asked this question and laughed again.
Luna… had grown into the person Ray hoped she would become.
Ray wanted Luna to exert positive influence in the world, possessing the strength and judgment to accept ‘small sacrifices’ for the greater good or personal goals.
There was some deviation, but undoubtedly, Luna had grown into the person Ray hoped she would become.
However, when Luna crossed the line she had been treading for Ray’s sake and declared she would accept ‘small sacrifices,’
Ray couldn’t joyfully accept it.
Why couldn’t he joyfully accept it?
To the past Ray, Luna was merely a means.
The Legendary Orphan of Dinor Mountain.
That’s how Ray referred to and regarded Luna.
But now, Ray wished Luna’s hands would remain clean.
Ray hoped that Luna wouldn’t soil her own hands with impurity.
Because Luna was no longer just a tool to Ray but someone he loved as family, he hoped so.
Self-contradiction.
The current Ray was a mass of terrible self-contradictions.
That’s why Ray couldn’t properly respond to Luna’s questions, couldn’t stop her, and neither affirmed nor denied her actions.
How many evil people must be sacrificed to remain a righteous Mage?
Ray didn’t know.
Ray had fled the mountains as if running away and found himself here, filling his glass.
And yet, despite his pitiful state, Ray asked Jimy,
“Jimy, I… am I…”
Feeling unbearably foolish, ashamed, and wretched,
After hesitating several times, Ray, with a face on the verge of tears, sought an answer from Jimy.
“Am I… was I a good son to Bella?”
Jimy looked at Ray and finally broke the silence with a soft chuckle.
“You were the best son.”
Clang! In the heavy atmosphere, the glasses collided clearly.
Refugee (1)
