I Am a Low-Class Aristocrat of a Perishing Country

88 – Confession of a Spirit

We ran on the restored blue sky. No, I need to correct my description. Strictly speaking, I was the only one running like a horse.

The trough was quite the battle while I sprinted until my feet were on fire. He sat in the arms of the princess, blushing in his shame. He stuttered his words and asked with an effort.

“Can’t you at least carry it on your back? Anyway, this is… sh*t…”

“What do you know if you commit suicide behind your back?”

“If you’re a real nobility, then Lorian Feyta must be a crazy b*tch that won’t exist again… aaa!”

The trope of crying out in pain after cursing alone is stupid. Shame bothers you after causing all sorts of nuisance. His palms are wide open.

I toured several villages, showing off my trope posture. He proudly showed off the trope of being hugged by a princess at every corner on the way to Jedo Island.

A smile like a fresh spring flower bloomed at Trope’s condition, which was spitting out vulgar language. No matter what, this should be enough to ease your mind. I’m not even a direct descendant of Lorian, so who knows?

Then a day passed. Trope’s body ran at a speed that could withstand it, so time had to be delayed.

‘Whoa…’

The system we faced again was the worst. The people who were distorted by the broken streets and depression were the first to be stepped on. At this point, it was self-evident where the anger would be directed if trope’s identity was discovered.

“I didn’t know I would be defending human rights here too.”

“Does it matter? Execution is obvious. Stoned to death or guillotine slit is the same. hahahahaha.”

“It’s okay to rummage, and it’s a scary and mysterious bastard to hold a princess.”

“f*ck.”

Trough closed his mouth as his whole face crumpled. He looks like he’s been hit hard.

Even for me, it was difficult for him to die before being formally judged. I borrowed a wagon that seemed to be in good condition and picked him up.

I was the coachman, and there were no horses. He made the wagon roll by himself with the magic of Cheonbyeon Manhwa.

Everyone was paying attention to the bizarre sight that deviated from common sense. It was the starting point for the spread of the island’s ghost wagon legend.

Looking around the islands through the window of the moving wagon, I felt a sense of incongruity. Judging from the fact that Tropp also frowned suspiciously, it seemed that I was not the only one who was conscious.

‘At least the damage is too little?’

Structures such as streets and buildings had many damaged parts. At first glance, it seems that the damage is great.

However, the most important human casualties are not seriously felt. It seemed that the scenery was claiming that the damage was minor.

It would be difficult to clean people’s corpses and bloodstains in one day. It was a continuation of clear weather with no rain whatsoever.

‘I’ll know when I get to the imperial palace.’

The Midday Ghost Carriage gets awe-inspiring glances. The exterior of the imperial palace was reflected in her eyes, leaving behind the reaction of the general public who rubbed their eyes.

Compared to the streets, the imperial palace was relatively intact. If only the damaged garden and some structures are repaired, it will quickly regain its former dignity.

I shone my face at the knights guarding the entrance and entered. His reflexes of rubbing his eyes suspiciously were uniform.

In front of the main palace, a familiar figure was looking directly at the carriage. She greeted me when she would have rolled up her arms to protect people.

“I’m back.”

“It’s late, Nefi.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m coming with a lump of luggage.”

“A lump of luggage?”

Irlp asks a question. I rummaged in the carriage, grabbed the trough by the neck and threw it away. I opened my mouth on behalf of him who groaned briefly.

“Call it trope feita.”

“I see. This man…”

“Aren’t you surprised…?”

It was a lukewarm response compared to the surprising truth. I’m sure you know that Ir Elfi is the name of the contemporary duke who committed suicide.

“That’s what happened. I guess now it’s Nefi’s turn to be surprised.”

“Me? Why?”

“Follow me and you will understand.”

“Wait, before that.”

I turned around and grabbed Irlp as he was walking towards the main palace. She was momentarily surprised by her urgent touch, but soon her lips were tinged with a gentle smile.

Worrying that it might be chilly because it is thin, her dress showed off a soft touch. At first glance, her back, which can be seen through the voluminous dress, was slender.

I haven’t seen you for about 15 days at most, but I wanted to keep hugging Irlp.

“The non-human monsters are screaming at each other like chewing gum.”

If only it hadn’t been for the disturbing tropes.

“Mr. Pak! There’s no swearing that a young guy can’t do.”

“Really, I wasn’t like this before.”

“Crazy bastards…”

Trop’s mind was disturbed by the collaboration of Double Kkondae that transcended the timeline. I took the initiative and stepped into the main palace while holding the trough by the back.

The place where Irrelpi took the lead was not the audience room or the emperor’s office. Nelfrugia’s leader’s office was also leisurely missed. The place we are approaching is underground. It was also a fairly deep passage. It was the way to a separate space away from the main palace through the basement.

In my past life of Netion Peace, I, who seemed to come and go to the imperial palace, easily predicted my destination.

“Are you going to the interrogation room?”

“How does Nefi know that?”

“The gloomy atmosphere is perfect for this purpose.”

“Ugh, that’s hard to deny.”

It was an interrogation room, more like a dungeon. It is a secret prison where you will not be imprisoned unless you are a high-ranking criminal.

Red hair stood out at the end of the aisle. It was the color of the current emperor. He saw us and came out to meet us with a flushed face.

“Ohh! Marquis of Alteon. The fact that the Marquis came here means…”

“Yes, Your Majesty. My name is Trope Peita, the chief of my enemies.”

“This guy… Definitely looks like a fake.”

“…Isn’t your majesty surprised?”

“Oh, that’s…”

The time when the emperor was about to reveal the reason.

A voice echoing through the bars of the dungeon immediately cleared up my doubts.

“Hey, Marquis. It looks like you’ve solved it well.”

“Zekeharun?!”

Why is he here…!

While I was panicking, the trough, who was grabbed by the back of the back, glared at the bars and growled.

“Ziekharun… You bastard. I got a rough estimate. It’s not enough to disclose the location, so you support the system? Are you doing this!!! Why? Have you ever been persuaded to save your life if you help me? Or is it a woman? Is it money? What the hell is it!!!”

‘I thought the damage from the system was small. Was that the reason?’

If Siegharun had participated in the war, it would have been a highly probable outcome.

The power of the system under the command of Batlante and the ability to protect the Irlp.

If Zekeharun’s help is added to that, the damage is bound to be dramatically reduced.

Ziekharun looked at me with his red eyes.

“Marquis, are you going to put me in solitary confinement? At this rate, I might be stabbed overnight.”

“…Yes. Is that all right, Your Majesty?”

“Mmm. Let’s go.”

“There is no up and down a fresh cub !!!”

Silk Harun tilted his head at Trope’s belittling. Like a child who couldn’t understand difficult math…

He flatly responded to Trope’s swear words.

“Looking at it like this, it’s 400 years old. Talking about up and down is self-inflicted? Trough. Especially if it’s you.”

“What?”

The crowd froze at Siegharun’s remarks. To say that he was 400 years old was an absurd figure.

If that statement is true, Siegharun will become the owner of a chronicle comparable to Netion Peace.

‘I’m sure the Siegharun I know is…’

Touching his chin brings back old memories.

The original prologue begins with Ziegharun waking up in the Red Sanctuary and facing the ruined empire.

Walking aimlessly, he met Bartlante, a godfather in the vicinity, and became an adventurer wandering the continent.

There is no keyword of 400 years in that journey.

“Ah, that’s right. I was going to tell the Marquis, but thanks to Chainreach, it was cut off. It’s an element related to Zeke Harun’s long-cherished wish. Hmmm, where should I reveal it?”

Ziegharun was deep in thought with a tightly bound look. I could hear him organizing his words like building angled blocks in his head.

That was when everyone was paying attention to the inside of Siegharun’s prison.

Zeke Harun, who had finished his thoughts in the deep silence, removed his heavy lips.

“First of all, the origin of my name Siegharun Misrach. Marquis already knows, right?”

“Yes.”

I nodded happily.

The boy’s name, Siegharun, is a human name given by Bartlante, the future godfather. And Misrah means a unique spirit name as a spirit.

“A name made up of a first name and a given name is kind of funny. I don’t have the concept of a full name. Technically… I thought it didn’t exist.”

Zeke Harun opened his eyes and mocked himself. I don’t know what’s so funny that he swallows a blank laugh.

“As you may know, the Marquis, I am Siegharun. I am the same person without a single error. You will know what I mean.”

“Hmm.”

Zeakharun’s possession was quite different from the relationship between me and Netion Peace.

As he was possessed, he completely assimilated and became one with Zeke Harun.

It deserves to be called a possession of a higher level than the experience of the old man’s past life.

“Siegharun of the future has collapsed. Because Ir Elfi Yustiha has already… Oops, that’s it.”

“Yes.”

Irelpi trembled as if a chilly wind had brushed through it. Zeke Harun pays attention and continues his words casually.

“Anyway. I was delighted with the memories of the time period. I had the chance to fulfill my wish with my own hands. And then Peita, who had a common denominator of long-cherished desire, approached me. Isn’t that right? Trough.”

“Because the information they bought was awful. I had to break my ankle when I approached.

“Nothing would have changed. My long-cherished wish was connected to your long-cherished wish. At least, until the time I unfolded Lorian Peita’s memoir.”

“What?”

Zeke Harun drooped and held the air in his eyes. The empty eyes accompanied the futility mixed with futility and resignation.

After a while, he quietly declared. In a terribly shabby, and pitiful, low-pitched voice.

“Zeegharun’s long-cherished wish is to make his mother’s wish come true. I was mistaken that it was connected to Feita’s long-cherished wish.”

“You…?”

For the first time I witnessed the trough fluctuate.

Although he has been gnawing at his anger and spitting out swear words, the scene where his face shows off his skills at every turn was a rare sight.

Irrespective of this, Siegharun reveals the truth that has been hidden.

“My name… No, if I had to use my full name, I’d introduce it like this.”

Then, the name he brought out made his audience freeze as if it had been infused with the spirit.

“Zeegharun Misrach Peita. The legitimate son of the Duke of Peita, and the most legitimate heir. That’s… Me.”

“…… f*ck, what?”

That was the first and last swearing I uttered in front of Illelpi.