Truly, his brother was no fool.
Vlado’s lips twisted into a grin. He had thought that he knew his brother well, but he acknowledged that there was a depth to his brother that he could have never anticipated.
It was almost surprising, how strong Yulkan was. Yulkan was so strong that he had steadfastly defended House Jinneman all this time despite the house’s decline. The decline wasn’t Yulkan’s fault either. House Jinneman was only on the decline because the greater house that it served—that is, Elector Katsya—was meeting its downfall and taking House Jinneman down with it. House Jinneman was doomed to fall unless the greater house it served somehow made a comeback.
When Vlado said that Yulkan was ‘strong,’ he was referring to the fact that his brother refused to find another greater house to serve despite the circumstances.
Vlado understood best that betraying the house one served and swearing loyalty to another house was a vulgar thing to do. How could he not? Vlado himself had betrayed the elector he had originally served before Elector Khan, and that was precisely why he’d had to endure so many insults and do so much dirty work before he had finally earned Elector Khan’s confidence. It had been such a painful season of his life that he couldn’t help but look back and wonder if it might have been easier to simply die quietly with the house he had originally served.
Yet, House Jinneman was another story. How easy would it be for the slowly declining house to simply change the ‘object of its loyalty’ if it meant it could immediately change its fortune? The house could flourish again. All Yulkan needed to do was sell his soul.
But Yulkan had persevered. He had staunchly refused to bend his values.
And that was precisely why Vlado could not underestimate his brother.
“Lake Emera, eh..?”
Vlado chewed on the name as he rode with hundreds of his soldiers until it finally fell from his lips. He had forgotten how chilling the name sounded. A shiver passed through his lips.
Lake Emera had long since been the target of the people of Longorde’s nightmares. It was also a place of taboo, as far as Yulkan and Vlado were concerned.
Vlado could almost see that horrific sight again right before his eyes. The way that the kind and lovely Yenishka had started tearing her clothes and running rampage like a rabid animal with red eyes.
Vlado shuddered. He couldn’t stop himself. He knew he had no reason to shudder, but he couldn’t help himself. His younger sister had died still young and beautiful. On the other hand, he was growing ever older. He was no longer the weak and ugly older brother who used to sneak up on his sister and cover her eyes.
Yulkan and Vlado had quarreled over the smallest things even when they were younger. The one and only person both brothers had ever cherished together, however, was Yenishka. She had been a lovely girl with golden eyes who loved reed flowers and bird feathers, a mischievous little thing who had once fallen asleep inside a wardrobe while hiding from her brothers in order to cause them grief and make them look for her, and their little sister, who had grown up as fresh and heartily as a green apple.
That was precisely why the brothers would never be able to forgive one another. Yenishka had been tricked into looking for her fiancé by Lake Emera by one brother, and she had ultimately been killed at the other brother’s hand. She was a flower who had been robbed of her chance to blossom. She had loved babies so much, yet she had never been able to have one of her own.
‘It was your fault.’
Vlado couldn’t help but wonder—which one of them would their little sister blame if she ever came back to life?
“We’ve arrived!”
Vlado raised his hand and signaled his soldiers to stop. Then, he had them form a semicircle around the lake and begin their search. The bowmen stayed back on standby with their arrowed nocked.
Vlado was going to kill his brother. And for whom? It didn’t matter. He had been forced to live through humiliation for so long because of his brother, and he was going to kill his brother.
“Over here! I see footprints!”
Lake Emera had become a swamp long ago, and its banks were very muddy. Normally, people left behind footprints when they trekked through mud. However, if his brother was here, then Tulk was also here, and Tulk would not have left behind any footprints for pursuers to find.
Accordingly, that meant that only his two nephews were here. Vlado was certain of this.
“Tighten the circle and keep searching!”
Vlado had neither a wife nor children. Yevgnen and Boris were his only nephews. If one of them had been a girl, and if that girl had resembled Yenishka even in the slightest, then perhaps Vlado may have reconsidered. But his nephews had not taken after dear Yeni at all. Neither boy had inherited Yeni’s golden hair or eyes.
Vlado harbored no sympathy for those boys… The fine wrinkles around his yellowy eyes squirmed as if they were resonating with his emotions. He would draw Yulkan out with their screams. He would make his brother show himself by murdering his sons!
The soldiers tightened their net around the lake’s northern, eastern, and western banks. The southern back was nothing but a large bog. Eventually, the rumored lake finally entered their field of vision. There were numerous dead trees surrounding the lake. Some of them were black, and others were white. All of them were masquerading as life that had long since been lost. Many things had died in and around the lake, and many more things were still dying. A milky white grease seemed to cover the entire area…
The lake looked exactly the same way it did in his memories. Vlado asked a mage to create some light so that he could see his intended destination. So that he could see clearly this place that he would never visit again.
Flash!
A brilliant light as bright as day flickered, not unlike the will-o-wisps that the lake often spat out. It was so bright that he could clearly see every last bug flying around a forty foot radius around him. Hundreds of eyes began their search for any signs of movement.
“I’ll reward one thousand elso to the first person who finds them!”
It wasn’t long before he finally heard something. However, it wasn’t the sound that he had been hoping to hear. Nor did it come from just one person.
Then, another round of screams sundered the air.
“It is time. Please go.”
There was neither tremble nor agitation in Tulk’s voice. He sounded so calm that he could have simply been saying that they should start heading to bed because it was late. Yevgnen was quivering ever so slightly as he turned toward the mage-cum-butler. He had never gotten accustomed to having the man around. And now, he would never get the chance to.
A light, one that spelt absolute disaster for them, illuminated their surroundings a moment later.
“May fortune be with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Tulk’s expressionless visage changed ever so subtly. Instead of asking Yevgnen why, however, he simply shook his head and reiterated, “Please go. That is your father’s will.”
“I have my own will, just as my father has his. And my father is more important to me than some quaint weapon.”
Yulkan shifted his head slightly to the side to look over at his son. They glared daggers at each other in silence.
His father didn’t say anything, so Yevgnen continued, “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
As ever, Tulk was able to read his master’s mind just by looking at the light in Yulkan’s eyes. In his master’s stead, he quietly replied,
“Please do not attach any ‘meaning’ to a hopeless cause.”
“But isn’t that exactly what you did, Father? I’m referring to Elector Katsya,” Yevgnen said while still looking directly back at his father. After all, Tulk was serving only as Yulkan’s translator. “Has any scion of House Jinneman ever withdrawn the ‘meaning’ of their cause simply because it was hopeless? Besides, the very reason why we defend good weapons zealously is so that we can all stay together during our darkest hour, no?”
Yulkan didn’t respond. Boris looked between his father’s fiery eyes and his brother’s determined ones. He was too young to join his conversation, but he was still old enough to vaguely understand what was happening.
Yevgnen kept his eyes glued on his father as he called out to Boris.
“Boris.”
Boris took a step closer to his older brother. Yevgnen took him by the wrist and asked, “You understand, right?”
“I…”
Boris wanted to declare that he was also a scion of House Jinneman who would not bend his will. He also wanted to assert that he cared about his brother just like how his brother cared about their father. He wanted to tell them that he did not want to live in a world without his father or his brother.
Yet, none of that ever made it past his lips. The heavy atmosphere had glued his mouth shut.
“We can still choose to die together. Let’s consider it an honor, Boris.”
It wasn’t like Yevgnen to say something like that. Yevgnen would never have said something like that in any other situation. The older brother that Boris knew would never even consider dying as an option if there was any way to survive.
Yevgnen was saying this because he could not see any way to keep his little brother alive.
Yevgnen forced himself to smile at Boris, unable to say anything more. Boris stared back at him. It struck him once again, just how blue Yevgnen’s eyes were. It wasn’t as if the color of Yevgnen’s eyes had changed. So, why did they keep catching Boris’ attention?
Not… It wasn’t his eyes. Boris finally understood why he had been feeling so strange ever since he had been rolling around the fields laughing with his brother earlier during the day.
It was his brother’s smile. Something about Yevgnen’s smile felt different today. It reminded Boris of their dead mother inside the portrait.
“Let’s go,” Yevgnen said as he stood up. He felt like his blood was boiling. Tulk helped Yulkan up too.
Yevgnen had assumed that Tulk had nothing more to say, but to his surprise, the butler said to him, “The two of you should follow us slowly. And please stay back until you’ve watched me die.”
Yevgnen fell silent. It had been seven years ago, if memory served, that Tulk had entered House Jinneman’s service as a butler. He had been more like a shadow than a person back then. A shadow that lingered behind after the actual body had passed by.
Put another way, Tulk’s presence had always been so faint that he could easily be mistaken for a shadow. He had always acted only to assist his father in accomplishing his wishes or in his father’s stead.
Shadows did not have any personality or emotions of their own. But neither, apparently, did he. Tulk was willing to die not only for his father, but also for his little brother and himself, yet he could not even feel the slightest hint of camaraderie for the butler.
“Over there!” Yevgnen thought he heard someone shout. He couldn’t confirm it, however, because words were quickly buried under the screams of dozens of men. Yevgnen and his family did not have the chance to grasp what was happening around them before proceeding closer to the swamp.
Shhh… Boom!
A series of flashing lights and earth-shaking explosions continued around them. Then, Yevgnen came to a sudden realization. It didn’t make sense to use those kinds of offensive spells against an isolated and injured party of four. In other words, there was something else here that his uncle was fighting.
And they would likely encounter that something sooner rather than later.
Vlado’s eyes were bloodshot as he pushed his soldiers aside and cut his way forward. Technically speaking, there was very little pushing involved on his part. Most of his men were ignoring orders and running about in confusion at this point.
Vlado, on the other hand, maintained his composure even as he stared down at the swamp right in front of him. There was only one reason for the chaos, and he knew exactly what it was. He would probably see it soon.
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid. Still, however, he wanted to stare the damned thing straight in the eyes. The crimson eyes of the ghost that had snatched away his angelic Yeni.
Tulk looked down at Yulkan, whom he was carrying over his arm, once they had finally reached the swamp. He smiled at Yulkan faintly, asking his master if he was ready. Yulkan did not reply. He was wounded so badly that it was difficult for him to speak, but he could have still said something if he had truly wanted to. Yet, all he did was straighten himself out and draw his sword without a word.
Now that he was facing the lake at last, Yulkan groaned, “Indeed, at last…”
Lake Emera was an eternally bottomless pit. Withering trees were tottering on the other side of the fence of damp shrubbery that surrounded it. He walked closer toward the interior of the lake one step at a time. A foul stench, the rancor of death, assaulted his nose. Heaps of rotting corpses were piled inside the lake all the way down to the hell below.
“Yeni…”
Yulkan’s voice was quiet at first as he called her name. Was she inside there somewhere? How far down was she? The monster’s claws were said to ravage both the body and mind. Being branded by it marked one’s end. Souls that were taken by the ghost were forever trapped in a place where they would never find respite…
Neither Yulkan nor Vlado had come to watch when Yeni’s corpse had been laid to rest at the lake.
“Yeni!” a lower-pitched yet clearer voice shouted from the other side.
Perhaps the two brothers hadn’t wanted to face each other in their heart of hearts. But it was far too late to seek forgiveness now. Their little sister had been the kindest person they had ever known, and even her kindhearted soul had probably rotten into malice by now.
Their sister would not forgive them. And now, it was time for the brothers to settle their age-old grudges!
Yulkan drew strength from the mysterious force that seemed to be pouring out from somewhere deep within him as he gripped his sword and began walking. He made his way toward the dark forest that surrounded the swamp. Vlado’s soldiers never stopped their screaming. Vlado’s voice, which he had heard just once earlier, disappeared in their midst.
“A-a-ahh!”
“Save me… Please!”
It had been a while since Yulkan had last laid his eyes on the lake—no, the swamp. The swamp was over half-filled with a certain waste product that continued to overflow from its bottom. Corpses.
This was the secret of Longorde. Some knew about it, and others would never know. Whenever someone died or committed murder and wanted to keep that death a secret, it was the lake’s job to take the cold corpses and decompose them until they became compost out of sight and out of mind. One, ten, and then twenty years passed as the lake continued to do its job… Until eventually, everyone had forgotten that Lake Emera was called such because it had once boasted clear, emeraldine waters.
“It was the grudges of those who died unjustly that turned the lake’s waters rotten.”
The brothers had found each other at last. Vlado sounded much more excited this time around. He continued, “Well? Shall we start looking for Yeni’s golden hair in that pile of corpses?”
Tulk cast a spell to protect his master’s body. Vlado grinned toothily as a translucent membrane encased his older brother’s body. Yulkan was pallid, and his wound hadn’t closed up yet either.
“Shall we work together to send those resentful corpses back down to the bottom of the lake?”
Zongnal was standing behind Vlado. He had summoned fire in both hands and was busy burning away the corpses and monsters that were coming up from the swamp. Monsters, not unsimilar to the one that had attacked Boris earlier, crackled and spewed filthy liquid everywhere each time they were burned.
“Or shall we measure the depth of the grudges we have against each other until Red-Eyes decides to show itself?”
Vlado swung up Hagrune, his black blade, in an arc as he prepared a thrust. He was the picture of composure. Most of his soldiers had already fled. Corpses continued to overflow from the blackened surface of the swamp and watched over the brothers with their hollowed eyes. Yulkan’s blade trembled for only a moment before it fell steady.
A chill—or was it a fever?—ran down Yevgnen’s back as he stared at the greenish mud and the rotting corpses that filled the swamp. He could see the soldiers who were still running about in terror. They didn’t seem to register him or Boris at all.
He could also see his uncle, who was glowering at his father across the lake, drawing his sword. The tension in the air was so palpable that Yevgnen thought it might actually snap. All because of something that hadn’t even appeared yet.
When would the ghost come? When would the red-eyed ghost that grew stronger by eating corpses finally decide to show itself?
Boris, who was standing back-to-back with his older brother, ruminated over just how powerless he was. The only thing he was capable of doing right now was to stand behind his brother and take a hit on his brother’s behalf. He decided to make it his duty to do exactly just that, and he poured every last drop of his focus into making sure he could carry it out. After all, he agreed with his father. If it was possible for just one person from their house to survive today, then that someone should be his brother.
Boris glanced back at his brother only to find that Yevgnen was grasping Winterer so hard that his wrists were quivering. Then, Boris saw that Snowguard, which Yevgnen was wearing, was glowing faintly silver. Yevgnen himself didn’t seem to have noticed it yet.
Was something coming toward them?
The wind howled. Quietly, Boris started, “Snowguard, it’s…”
It didn’t take long before Yevgnen saw it too. The armor glowed brighter and brighter until it finally shone with a blinding resplendence. The light was strong enough to illuminate Yevgnen’s cheeks. He could guess why the armor was glowing. It had sensed the scent of death.
Howlllll…
He could hear it. Not actually, but… yes, he could hear it. It wasn’t exactly a sound, but that was the only way he knew how to describe it.
Something was approaching them from the other side of the swamp. It was wreathed in black flames and had glowing red eyes…
Just as Yevgnen glared at the ghost through the darkness, Boris felt himself get rooted to the spot as a chilling voice filtered not into his ears but directly into his head. He couldn’t move a single muscle even though the terrifying ghost was coming closer.
What a lovely child you are, hehehe.
