Chapter 1: What Can I Use to Love You?

Fainted from excruciating pain, awakened by the same agony.
When Caron opened his eyes, he saw Nio’s face right in front of him.
“Look at me!” Nio commanded in a low, icy voice. “Remember well whose hand took your life—and why!”
Giggling… Caron stared at Nio, his eyes filled with a complex mix of terror, despair, shock, and pleading. He tried to speak, but Nio didn’t give him the chance. The sharp dagger taken from the werewolf sentinels of the West Wind War Camp pierced Caron’s jaw and moved upward slowly.
“Out of courtesy for being acquaintances, you won’t suffer for long, but you’ll remember it well!” Nio’s dagger targeted Caron’s central nervous system. The intense pain caused his body to convulse violently like an epileptic seizure, though not much blood flowed. His eyes gradually lost their luster, becoming dull, and within seconds, they were completely lifeless.
Caron was dead—killed helplessly, like a pig or sheep, as punishment for his actions.
Nio took the prepared rag, stuffed it into the wound as he pulled out the dagger, then wrapped it simply and tied it off. Even so, the smell of blood would attract enemies soon. Nio intended to use this to his advantage, but first, he needed to take care of Milien and Dev.
“Let’s go,” Nio called to Milien and Dev, leading the way up the ladder, through a secret door, and out of the hidden room.
Milien and Dev were coated in the filthy oil from Nio, giving off a mixture of stench and darkness. Though different from the evil dark cultists, it was enough to create confusion from a distance.
Milien’s dress had been torn and wrapped around her as pants, merely to allow her to walk more easily. Both she and Dev were dressed too thinly. One was a youth, the other a weak woman, and after more than two days without food, their resistance was extremely low. In the night wind, they shivered like two quails.
With a heavy heart, Nio ordered them to follow behind him, keeping 3 or 4 meters apart, rather than having them on his back. The area was too dangerous; he needed to be ready for any threats. Moreover, their footprints in the snow would be hard to cover if they all moved together.
The three of them were heading to blacksmith Macken’s cellar, which was far more suitable for hiding than the ancestral basement of the Manmoris family. More importantly, Nio believed Milien and Dev needed to recover there for a while—after all, escaping wasn’t just about climbing over the town walls. And Milien and Dev were indeed a burden. With them, Nio couldn’t engage in a race or chase like he had against the demonized ones before. If discovered, it could easily lead to tragedy.

Nio had come prepared to rescue Melian, with most of his supplies stored in the McKennan family’s cellar—so naturally, his first stop was there. Moreover, Nio wasn’t planning to just leave so easily. His strength had greatly increased, his condition was excellent, and his recent confrontation with Datha and his group had further boosted his confidence. He wanted to see if the Dark Cultists still had the guts to send troops after him. Whatever the outcome, he needed to be proactive. As a warrior, courage and initiative were essential; adopting an offensive stance while trying to escape was a common tactical move.

By this time, Eirith had already found Imothon, who was overseeing the digging work, and shared his assumptions. Imothon used to be a mercenary—though infamous—yet he still had some military knowledge. He didn’t fully agree with Eirith’s assumptions, but he supported the plan Eirith had devised. By mixing Dark Cultists with low-level undead, night patrols would be ensured. As for the day, the area around Tulip Town in winter was covered in fields, all blanketed in snow—making any surprise attack impossible to go unnoticed.

“Master, you’re right. The enemy probably isn’t very numerous. And after two battles, it’s unlikely they suffered no casualties. Also, their supplies and food are a problem. The success of the Archmage’s clever plan has only accelerated the decline of the Erdrit region. So, all we need to do now is hold our ground firmly and achieve our main goal—that will ensure our invincibility. I believe it will be the enemy who can’t hold out first. Let’s see what tricks they’ll try next.”

“Hmm…” Eirith stroked the few strands of long hair on top of his head, looking as if he could teach the boy a thing or two. “Then let the Cultists report in groups. I need to give them direct instructions; otherwise, they won’t be able to control those undead.”

“Thank you for the task,” Imothon said politely. But that wasn’t his true feelings. As the saying goes, a wise man avoids immediate losses. Whether in terms of rank or strength, he wasn’t Eirith’s match. Besides, Fatak was dead, and Datha was dead too—so Gretchen and Gorton would surely hold Eirith accountable for their beloved apprentices and trusted subordinates. It would be time to add more pressure later; for now, the most important thing was to do his own job well and avoid leaving any weaknesses.

“Hmph! Wait and see, you brat! I’ll show you how you’ll lose face this time!” Imothon thought darkly, while on the surface, he obediently ordered people to gather the Cultists, emphasizing speed and warning them not to play tricks or face severe punishment.

So, the Dark Cultists were very busy at the moment. They shouldn’t have been on night duty, but now they not only had to do so but also work alongside those stinky, stupid low-level undead. How could those Cultists, who had joined the cult hoping to indulge themselves and cause trouble for others, be happy? Amidst their complaints, who would pay attention to three figures sneaking through the streets? Only the hounds remained loyal, but the Dark Cultists were in a bad mood—how could they be kind to them? And there was still the reporting to attend to. Didn’t you hear the order? Those who delay will face severe punishment!

Nio noticed the unusual activity of the Dark Cultists. He hadn’t expected it to be due to the delayed warning from Dath and the others, who hadn’t survived. He assumed something had gone wrong in the town—perhaps a messenger had arrived reporting that Solth City had been completely pacified, and Adrien had sent back news about Tulip Town, indicating that those arrogant warriors were finally willing to send troops this way.

Regardless of the situation, Nio wasn’t planning to change his original intention. He and Dave had discussed similar issues before and concluded that in times of chaos, the only reliable thing was one’s own armed forces. Especially when alone, relying on the army for help was dangerous. Regular troops, especially larger units, were safer, as many eyes were watching. But if it was a small group or private forces, they might kill you out of greed, and even if it was exposed, they could claim confusion in the battle or mistaken identity as an enemy.

Such incidents had been recorded in unofficial histories: A noble who thought he had escaped death rushed toward his own troops, crying and waving his arms, shouting, “My own people! I’m XXX!” Only to be riddled with arrows—killed by his own side, because his wealth would benefit everyone if he died…

As they walked, Nio glanced sideways at Dave, who was moving along the wall, and whispered, “Do you really expect to lead the people by acting so sneaky? Have you ever seen a successful lord who was a rogue? Control your mindset. Whether a warrior or a lord, success doesn’t come from sneaking around, even during escape.”

Dave’s face turned cold as he glared at Nio defiantly, gritted his teeth, and said nothing. He was indeed scared—he had heard dog barks, seen those dogs tearing apart living people, and heard footsteps and voices. Those people were monsters, their methods of killing cruel and bloody; each one was a pervert…

Still, Dave eventually listened to Nio’s words. He stopped hiding along the walls and, like Nio, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, staying highly alert but walking openly.

Meliene looked pale, glancing at her brother and then at the solemn Nio, sighing inwardly. These two men, who were now the most important to her, were like a lion and a calf—two different kinds, neither willing to yield, always full of defiance.

Although the calf didn’t consider the lion his kind, it longed to be as brave and wise as the lion. And the lion, out of respect for his lover, the calf, tolerated its stubbornness and defiance, teaching it how to become a competent fighter and other lessons. That was the only reason these two could get along!

Mellian knew it was Dave who had seen her relationship with Neo and told their father. Dave later admitted it himself, and Mellian still clearly remembered his cruel words: “The limit I can tolerate, the limit the entire Manmores family can tolerate, is for Neo to be your personal guard for life while having an ambiguous relationship with you behind your back. But you crossed the line, my dear sister. Love has blinded you, making you forget your responsibilities and duties as the eldest daughter of the Manmores family.”

“And Neo too has crossed the line. Look at what he’s doing—weapons, equipment, provisions, money. He’s carefully preparing a set of items to leave at any moment. Does he really think he can hide it from everyone?”

“Originally, it was our Manmores family who bought his life from the gladiator merchants, nurtured him, honored him, and gave him a status second only to that of a steward. And how did he repay us? By staging a grand love affair with the family’s daughter, turning the Manmores family into a laughingstock in the entire kingdom. He’s read so many books, met so many people—doesn’t he know this is a society with strict hierarchies? Doesn’t he know what consequences playing at ‘true love’ with you will bring to the Manmores family? Does he still have any sense of being a servant? To the Manmores family, he is a traitor! And the whole world treats traitors the same way.”

Mellian knew that even if Dave had similar thoughts, he wouldn’t be able to speak such words. It was her father using her brother’s voice to scold her.

Mellian loved Neo, but she couldn’t hate Dave either. He was her only brother, and she loved him dearly.

She clearly remembered that when she learned the truth, it was already the day Neo was executed. After lunch, Lord Manmores told her the cruel news. He said, “My dear daughter, I must give you some bad news. While we were eating, a grand public trial was taking place in Solis City, and Neo was sentenced to death for treason…”

But the even worse news was that before she could recover from her shock, the dark forces had stormed Tulip Town with lightning speed. In this time of crisis, Lord Manmores, who had gone out to lead the defense, seemed to have anticipated his own misfortune. He said earnestly, “Do your best to take care of Dave. He is the future of the Manmores family. This is a father’s plea.”

During those days of hiding, what Mellian hated the most was her own weakness. She loved Neo so much, but when something happened to him, she couldn’t do anything. She had already decided in her heart to follow Neo throughout her life, no matter where, even to hell. But she failed to do so. She tolerated the culprit who killed her beloved, tolerated Carlon’s rough behavior for two days, and even when Carlon went too far and tried to rape her, all she could do was apologize to Neo in her heart.

I’m sorry I can’t share life and death with you. I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise for you. I’m sorry I can’t avenge you. I’m sorry…

Not long ago, when her lover saved her from the nightmare, joy and happiness filled her heart in an instant. But after those intense emotions subsided, what filled the depths of her heart was guilt and self-reproach.

Melian felt that she was the true traitor—she had betrayed her lover and the most sincere feelings between them. Although Neo had only briefly recounted his experiences over the past few days, with her understanding of him, how could she not imagine the desperate circumstances he must have faced to break free, risking his life under the label of a condemned prisoner just to save his lover?
Neo’s willingness to risk his life and his deep affection only made Melian feel even more guilty.
“After countless desperate pleas, I saw my lover. Yet this was no comedy. Selfishness and betrayal have defiled true love, turning it impure. More selfish motives will only cover it in the stain of exploitation. This time, I have no face left to ask for forgiveness…”
Watching Neo’s somewhat emaciated figure, Melian felt as if an insurmountable chasm lay between her and him—a chasm more real than ever!
More terrifying than worldly doubts and accusations was the gap that had formed in her own heart—a gap born from her identity as the eldest daughter of the Manmores, which had awakened within her…