Circumstances of a Fallen Lord

Chapter 2:

The first thing you must do when you return to the past

*Bang*

*Bang*

*Aghhh!* 

*Crash*

Deafening booms and shrieks, as if an enormous mountain was collapsing, brought Luisen back to consciousness. 

“My lord, my lord. Please hurry and wake up. The battle has begun.”

“Ughh…..”

‘Leave me alone. I just died, you know?’

Luisen covered his head and pushed away the hand trying to wake him up. His head felt like it had shattered, and nausea rolled around inside of him. A terrible alcohol stench permeated from somewhere.

‘What is this alcohol smell?’

After the civil war, Luisen couldn’t drink a single drop of alcohol. Prohibition was instituted as the famine continued to ravage the lands; the price of alcohol went through the roof. For a vagabond like Luisen who found it hard to find daily bread, the smell of alcohol, let alone the taste, was a pipe dream.

But then, why was he currently suffering from a severe hangover?

He rolled his hazy, heated head around. Slowly, bit by bit, memories returned.

It was evident that Luisen should have died that wintery night, three years after he ran away from the castle. However, a man passing by miraculously saved him.

He was a man on a religious pilgrimage. Because he was missing one arm, the man was called the one-armed pilgrim. Luisen didn’t know his name. And he would always wear the hood of a monk, so he couldn’t see his face. The man seemed extremely suspicious, but the one-armed pilgrim took care of Luisen with all of his heart.

He would hand over his bed, warm the room with precious firewood, and was even willing to share medicine and food. Even though he wasn’t well off, he devotedly nursed Luisen. Thanks to him, Luisen didn’t die that winter and instead regained some vitality.

Luisen felt deep gratitude towards the one-armed pilgrim. That there was such a merciful and wise person in this world… He began to call the pilgrim a saint and followed his doctrine. 

Following him, Luisen learned much of the world and realized his own foolishness. The stories the one-armed pilgrim would tell helped gift Luisen with a discerning eye. He helped him see the world with clear eyes, devoid of sin and senility. Luisen was able to feel remorse and apologized sincerely to the dead. 

After meeting with the one-armed pilgrim, he no longer felt devastating hunger and slept enclosed by ceilings and walls, but his body was already broken by the streets. The next winter, one year later, Luisen breathed his last.

 “I thought I was in an old cabin…”

It was an endlessly uneasy and dreadful night. As it was deep into the winter, the blizzard’s rage rattled the windows as if to shatter them. Knowing it was Luisen’s last night, the pilgrim stuffed the stove full of firewood.

Every time some strange sound rang out, Luisen’s heart shook as well. 

Death was so scary.

He was afraid to meet the people that died because of him. It was painful to look back upon his life, but it was also scary to think that no more days would come either. Ah, the process of the soul leaving the body was too long, boring, and terrible. Tears kept flowing down.

“Brother,” said the one-armed pilgrim, Luisen’s saint.

He grasped Luisen’s hand, as if he understood his heart’s desire. Luisen moistened his lips with some wine that the man had procured, as if from thin air, and uttered his last will–his final confession.

And then, he died.

That was the last moment Luisen could remember. He definitely died then.

But then, why does he smell like alcohol? Didn’t he die? No? The memory of his life seeping from his body couldn’t have been a dream.

“Am I in hell?”

Considering the dreadful shrieks coming from all sides, this must have been hell. He had a terrible migraine and felt nausea as if he were seasick. Every time he took a breath, the sickening stench of alcohol wafted out of his mouth. It was almost as if… it was the day after he had become blackout drunk. 

Are there hangovers in hell?

“Hell? Well, I guess it wouldn’t be wrong to call it hell.”

A brusque voice came from above.

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‘Is there someone beside me?’

Luisen opened his eyes. The room was dark, but it was enough to recognize the other person’s face. The man had flashy red hair and a good-looking appearance, but his absentminded expression made him look plain.

It was Luisen’s chief aide, Ruger.

 “Ruger? Huh? Why are you here?”

Ruger would have fled with Luisen on that fateful night, but instead he let himself get captured and killed by Carlton’s soldiers in order to give his master an opportunity to safely escape. It was one of Luisen’s greatest regrets that he couldn’t retrieve the body for fear of being caught.

“Please come to your senses. Now isn’t the time to be carefree and drinking.”

“Now?”

Luisen looked around blankly; the view looked familiar. The luxurious room decorated in green and gold was his past bedroom. Although Luisen spent more time in the capital than in his territory, he couldn’t forget the bedroom he had used all his life, which had been passed down for generations in the Anies family.

‘I can’t believe I’m seeing this place again.’

This room had burned down with the dukedom’s castle. Carlton had made sure of it.

“Here, have some cold water and pull yourself together.”

Ruger handed over the cup. Luisen absentmindedly took it and gulped the water down. Maybe because he had arrived in hell, or maybe because he was seeing the castle he lost through his own mistakes, his throat burned.

“Gah.”

The ice cold of the water made his head spin.

‘Isn’t this strange?’

Luisen pinched his cheeks without mercy. Vivid pain blossomed. 

‘Am I alive right now? I’m not dead?’

The dead can’t feel pain. So, what’s all that terrible noise coming from outside the window? He hurriedly ran to the window and flung it open.

“AHHHHHHH!”

“Stop them! Don’t back down!”

“Save me!”

You could see the view of the entire castle in one glance from the duke’s bedroom. A battle was in full swing just outside the castle walls. Despite the advantageous position due to the castle’s defenses, the battle lines were steadily being pushed back. Luisen’s soldiers were naive and without proper training, while the enemy soldiers climbing the walls were all elite. As if to predict their inevitable victory, a blue flag fluttered majestically over the wall. The blue lion was a symbol of the royal family.

A blue lion flag…

The blue lion flag. Old memories, as vivid as if they had happened just yesterday, rose up when he saw that flag.

Prince Ellion declared that all those who supported the second prince were traitors. In order to set an example for all the nobles who didn’t support him, he sent soldiers to the Anies Duchy.

Carlton, the first prince’s sword, butcher, noble executioner, and all sorts of other horrible nicknames, led the army to the duke’s territory.

Carlton recommended they surrender to the royal family’s rule. Though in name they were the royal family’s vassals, the Duke of Anies had long ruled the south as its master. The duke, who had secretly belittled the royal family, couldn’t accept submitting to its power. The castle closed its gates and chose to fight. He believed that the many southern lords, his vassals, would come as reinforcements if they endured.

After the battle began, it only took three days for the castle to fall.

Just three days.

“Ruger, how many days has it been since the battle started?”

“What? You don’t even remember? Did you take anything other than alcohol?”

“How many days.”

“It started yesterday…so it’s the second day.”

Second day! It was the same night Luisen ran away.

“That’s…I can’t believe it.”

Luisen chuckled despondently. ‘I went back in time? Why, of all times, did I come back to the night I regret the most?’

He couldn’t believe it. Luisen clenched his fist and punched the window frame.

*Thud*

“Nn…it hurts…”

“You punched a brick frame, of course it hurts! You picked up something weird and ate it, didn’t you? Yes? I’ve been doing what my lord ordered me to do, even in this mess, so much that my soles are on fire, and you’re here smoking?”

“…I said I didn’t take anything.”

‘Or actually, did I?’

Luisen felt like he was out of his mind. He would usually enjoy that kind of thing during the new year celebrations, and with the fear of death, perhaps there was no reason not to do it.

‘Maybe I did. A little bit.’

“It’s fine. Now’s the time. With the battle in full swing, no one will pay attention to us.”

“Huh? What?” Luisen asked blankly.

He felt as if he was dreaming. Did he have a weird dream after drinking? This Luisen Anies couldn’t have become a beggar after all…

“We’ve got to run. I’ve prepared the horses and money.”

Hm. It couldn’t have been a dream. It really did happen. Luisen suddenly made a distressed sound.

‘Returning to the past…I’ve read stories like that but…’

Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a man. He wandered the world and helped many people. Everyone praised him as a saint, but he couldn’t be happy. That was because he committed a great sin in the past. Even as he atoned with good deeds, he felt distress. One day, he made a wish to God. He wanted to revive his loved ones… God, who felt sorry for the saint, granted him his wish. He sent the saint back to the past so he could save them himself.

This was a legend that was known by all the kingdom’s citizens–fiction made to teach morality and to inspire faith. But that story had become his reality, even though Luisen wasn’t a saint.

‘Why me?’

He was a sinner. He made a wrong decision that drove many people to their deaths and became one of the causes for famine. How many people died because of one person? How could he be given the same opportunity as a saint?

TN lil-vally: Thanks for joining me for the first two chapters! I’m reading along with you guys, so I’m excited to see where this goes. Poor MC is so sad these past chapters T_T