At the mass graveyard on the outskirts of the imperial capital, the bodies of the poor are usually brought here and buried haphazardly.
Only the wealthy are laid to rest quietly in cemeteries with the church’s blessings.
The surrounding packs of wild dogs had long scattered, nowhere to be seen, and even the night had silently descended.
All that remained was Gerald, unconscious on the ground, his body tattered and bare, completely exposed.
Yet, there were no visible wounds.
“I’m still alive…”
Under the moonlight, he suddenly awoke, opening his weary eyes.
Feeling weak, sore, and parched, he let out a long breath, unable to help but sigh in relief.
Though he didn’t understand why he had survived, being alive felt wonderful—it meant he could continue his search for Emilia.
Noticing a familiar scent, his pupils shrank sharply.
Trembling, he reached for an object hidden near his chest.
Tears streamed uncontrollably—it was his mother’s scent, no, Emilia’s scent.
He sobbed.
Struggling to his feet, the biting cold wind swept over him, making his shivering body tremble even more.
With uncontainable joy, he picked up the shattered object, treasuring it like a priceless relic.
Though it had long lost its function and magic, the lingering scent remained, confirming that it belonged to Emilia.
Without her help, he might have already met a tragic end.
“Emilia still loves me,” he thought, slipping into fantasies again.
In truth, this was a scheme by Sieg.
While whipping him, Sieg had set up a safeguard.
He didn’t want to face an even stronger, more deranged hero, so he grudgingly saved Gerald’s life.
Sieg had no desire for Gerald to know his true identity as the Demon King—revealing it could lead to even more trouble.
Better to play it safe.
Naturally, he attributed this perfect act of salvation to Emilia.
She wouldn’t mind, and she might even leap for joy if she found out.
Tch, women.
At that moment, Gerald, who had lost everything, was on the verge of collapse and madness.
After venting in his own peculiar way, he reaffirmed his resolve to find Emilia.
Clenching his fists, flames of determination burned within them.
Looking up at the starry sky, she was his only reason to keep going.
Without her, he truly couldn’t go on.
In his calloused hands, the object still carried her lingering fragrance—undeniable proof of their unbreakable bond.
“Besides, this is proof she loves me. Her closeness with that other man was just to make me jealous… how naughty,” he thought.
“Emilia, you still care about me. You can’t live without me, can you? You can’t bear to let me go.”
“Wait for me.”
“Returning to the empire is out of the question. Going back is impossible.”
He foresaw the consequences of returning—most likely, he’d be paraded through the streets again, humiliated by the nobles until he was broken.
This accident had been his only chance to escape alive.
Otherwise, who knows how long he’d have been trapped.
Bare under the moonlight, he pondered deeply.
After what felt like an eternity, a spark of inspiration hit him.
He decided to return to his hometown—it was the only place he could think of.
Other places… he had no leads.
He’d go to his foster mother’s, stabilize his life, and then slowly search for clues about Emilia’s whereabouts, step by step.
With that, he set off with a stray dog in tow.
Gerald’s journey was fraught with hardship—sleeping outdoors, enduring hunger, and suffering the cruelties of the world.
He constantly regretted his past actions.
If Emilia were still here…
Finally, he returned to his long-abandoned hometown.
Weathered and worn, Gerald thought that, even if he wasn’t welcome, surely he wouldn’t be targeted.
How naive.
Reality was harsh.
He had underestimated the savagery of the villagers.
The moment he arrived after his grueling journey, the familiar villagers reacted as if they’d seen a ghost, fleeing in all directions.
News of Gerald’s death had spread like wildfire, celebrated throughout the empire.
When they realized Gerald was alive, they immediately turned on him, hurling insults and venting all their pent-up anger and frustration.
“It’s all your fault, Gerald! You know that? Our lands were taken because of you! You drove Emilia away for your own selfish desires. Are you brainless? You’re no hero! My father should’ve killed you when you were a kid! What are we supposed to do now? We can’t leave the empire, can’t even leave this place. We’re forced to sell ourselves to the nobles as serfs for life, and it’s all your fault, Gerald!”
“My son was only eighteen, our only child. A few days ago, he was forcibly conscripted because of your decrees. They left a few silver coins—barely enough to buy a sack of flour. I don’t even know if he’ll come back alive. My poor boy…” they wailed.
“Gerald, have you ever reflected on what you’ve done? We’re in this mess because of you! Taxes and prices have skyrocketed. We can’t afford anything, reduced to eating scraps we used to feed pigs and dogs. We’re cursed and ridiculed behind our backs, and we can’t even fight back. So many young people in our village have died because of you. Do you even realize?”
The brave direct their anger at the strong, but the weak turn it on those weaker still.
They didn’t dare blame the nobles, the recruiters, or the tax collectors.
They were too afraid. Instead, they unleashed their emotions on the fallen Gerald.
If he still had wealth and power, things might have been different.
But there were no “ifs.”
His situation was even worse than Emilia’s had been.
Under the villagers’ condemning glares, he raised a weary hand in apology and made a promise.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’ll make it up to you. Just give me time… give me time.”
“Empty promises! You’ve been cast out—how can we trust you? Answer me! Why don’t we turn him over to the nobles for a reward? We could split the money and maybe even get a good meal out of it!”
The villagers rallied in agreement, ready to act without hesitation.
They felt justified, believing Gerald owed them.
With everyone joining in, any lingering guilt vanished.
After all he’d endured, Gerald faced an ignominious end before his journey could even begin.
Unwilling to accept defeat, he racked his brain for a way out.
“Daisy, it’s me, Gerald!”
Spotting a girl in the distance, he lit up and waved frantically.
But instead of joy, Daisy was horrified.
She hurried over, explaining to the villagers and quickly distancing herself from him.
Her words were passionate, each one cutting deep.
She refused to sink with Gerald’s sinking ship.
She was young, beautiful, and had no shortage of suitors.
Using her natural charm, she severed ties with him.
Her final words dripped with disappointment: “I loved Brother Gerald—the proud, domineering, awe-inspiring Gerald. Not this pathetic loser. Get lost. Don’t let me see you again.”
Rage surged within Gerald, but his retort died in his throat.
He remembered how he’d laughed when Emilia was driven out, mocking her as if she deserved it.
Now it was his turn.
How laughable.
Did he deserve this too?
And the others…
Guilt overwhelmed him, but he had no outlet for it.
Escaping in the chaos, he left behind a single vow: “Thirty years east, thirty years west—don’t underestimate a young man’s potential!”