The people who spoke those sorts of horrible things looked deeply uncomfortable, they averted their gaze with a guilty conscience.
Deruth clenched his fists, his fingernails drawing blood in his palms. His adam's apple rose and fell as he watch his son getting further and further away.
He felt the urge to march over to his past self and slap him. Yell at him to wake up and his son is right there in front of him. Tell him to do something, anything, just to prevent Cale from leaving.
But his past self might have only slapped him back because even now, he, himself couldn't do anything, he still couldn't protect Cale.
As he disappeared from their sight, another scene took place.
[ Cale was back in the cabin, he stood before the window, the flickering light of the candles illuminated his entire face.
His expression remained calm, but his hand was clasping the corners of the envelope tightly. ]
Cale's actions and thoughts had always been difficult to guess. It was proven in the young man's next action.
[ He snorts derisively before letting the other end of the envelope engulfed in fire from the candles in front of him.
Not releasing it until he felt the tip of his fingers burnt. It didn't take long before the letter turned into ashes.
Cale's shoulders slump as he sighed outwardly, He then tilts his head to look outside. The snow still steadily falls from the grey sky outside. ]
He was a Count, Deruth thinks to himself.
He couldn't just spend all his time thinking about his son, he has many responsibilities that he needed to fulfill, and Cale left without saying anything, no letter, no goodbye, nothing.
What does Cale presume he would think?
Deruth didn't disown him, he wasn't the one who told him to go, it was his idea, his own choice to leave.
Despite the continuing self-persuasion and justification, it couldn't ease the guilt that resided in his heart because he now knew his reason as to why he left, and Cale, leaving without telling him, there must have been a reason for it as well.
And maybe-no, he is sure that if he was the one who left, even if he run to the end of the world, Cale would still find him and will wait for him however long needed, the same way Cale did before when the two of them became like strangers.
Nor he would never let anyone slander him, no matter how true their words might be.
But Deruth did.
He not only let them bombard his son with insults, but he also didn't do anything about the matter of his son, even though he knew it became a joke that kept spreading in the circles of nobility, down to the commoners.
He gave up on him.
His emotions heighten when the little voice in the back of his head reminded him that the seconds were ticking by, he doesn't know how it ends, but he knew it is nearing.
The scene faded and different scenes appeared before them.
They watched as Cale battles alone.
Cale was drawing and writing. Comparing different sheets of paper with a lot of musing, thinking, and planning.
Relieved, when it all turned out well.
The shattered hope in his eyes, the constant self-deprecation, and self-blame whenever he made a mistake, whenever it all went wrong.
He might not be there on the frontlines, fighting with the said heroes, but he never left them.
In the shadows is where he stood alone, guiding and helping them.
When the nobles were inside in their sturdy homes, resting to their heart contents, he was out there and could even barely keep himself warm.
When they were celebrating and feasting over the wars they have won, he was already thinking about the following wars.
Every deceased was adding to the many deaths in his nightmares that Cale remembered well and wished he didn't.
He appeared to be more drained and fatigued as the time passed by, his health deteriorating.
It was unfair.
How can life be so cruel to one person?
No matter how great his objective was, still, there was only so much one person can handle, it is already incredible he hadn't fallen apart yet when it was already crushing him.
With all the things he had seen, all the things he had to deal with, leaving him without a moment to even breathe.
Yes, he might have somewhat known the future by having a glimpse of it through images.
But at end of the day, they are just a bunch of drawings that were put together, he's only seeing random pieces of it with no time or place that was indicated.
And how can one person, a normal human being at that, bear the responsibility of a whole world?
To the point that he would disregard himself like that.
Cale was too good for this world and they should give him more credit for everything he had done for them.
Choi han's jaw aches like he's been punched must be because he had clenched it too tightly.
Eric bit his lower lip in distress at the younger one.
He started reminiscing the time when they were still both young, full of naivety and innocence.
Cale's kind, dazzling smile, eyes framed by long eyelashes and would lit up everything time he sees him, brave yet so shyly when conversing with other people.
Gradually relapsing to the other's cold and somewhat arrogant, prideful gaze, with a small smirk plastered on his face.
He remembers one time wondering how can a person change so much as if he became someone else. He then blamed it on his wealth and power.
But he now realized it was them who forced him to change.
It was the circumstances that forced him to harden his heart.
While Alberu's mind was wandering elsewhere, he scoffs under his breath. He then turned his head to look behind him, looking for a specific person.
It didn't take long before a familiar voice resounded inside his mind.
At the same time, the scene took a stop.
[ Cale was running, mask over his nose, sweat beading on his forehead.
He was clad in a black outfit with five red stars and one white star on his chest, the same one the men that were relentlessly chasing him was wearing.
Using someone else's identity and wearing the same black clothes, Cale had easily infiltrated one of Arm's bases and gained access to their Intel and various operation. However, his luck had gone out when he was caught this morning, resulting in this predicament.
He turned to the alleyway and pushed open the door next to him, closing it behind him.
He knelt on one knee, he was shaking as he leaned against the door and trying not to let out a painful grunt as he felt severe pain in his chest.
He is guessing one of his ribs might have been broken when the man who caught him, threw out several consecutive fierce blows in a row across his body.
He swept his eyes across the room, the place was filled with a thick layer of dust and worn-out furniture.
Good thing the house he went into was abandoned, the last thing needed right now was a random innocent citizen, screeching at the sight of him.
At that moment, a flurry of footsteps and cursing could be heard.
He waited until they had gone far enough before relaxing his stiff, aching muscles, his body could also no longer support itself and he slid numbly to the ground.
The floorboards are cold and damp underneath him as he pressed his back against the wooden door, but he doesn't mind it.
He rummaged through his spacial storage bag, he then took out a small bottle of healing potion, but as though God wanted him to struggle more, it slip right through his trembling hand and rolled over to his feet.
Cale cursed under his breath, he then stretched his arm and tried reaching for it again but he only ended up pushing the bottle further away from him, completely out of his reach.
He wanted to laugh a little at his situation, but the pain in his chest didn't let him.
He cast his gaze to the darkened ceiling, a bone-deep exhaustion was overtaking his features as the loud silence pressed on him.
He knew he was supposed to grab another bottle of a potion than sit here like a fool, waiting for something, someone.
Not that he is actually waiting,
or needed someone.
Yet, he made no move to reach towards it, he couldn't snap out of the haze that was clouding his mind.
Perhaps it was the sleepless nights, the countless deaths that caught up to him, or maybe it might be just because he is tired, that useless thoughts and realization began to evade his mind;
No one was waiting for him to go back home. Perhaps, even if he died here quietly, no one would know.
But it might be for the best, that way, his father wouldn't have to know he was already dead. Instead, he would think he was somewhere far and safe.]
They stopped short by the sight of him before averting their gaze but they could still make out how Cale's eyes cycle through countless negative emotions before returning to a vacant stare.
They can't help but wonder, why didn't he seek anyone for help? Why did he decide to do it all by himself?
What make him think that it was the only way?
While Valentino thought different,
Cale naturally couldn't easily trust anyone. The Arm organization's eyes and ears were everywhere, even your longtime friend can be one of them.
He also wouldn't dare to turn to his family, as it could only bring harm to them, something that Cale is far too aware of.
But even if he did try to,
Will someone lend a hand?
Will they honestly listen?
Because if you ask him in the past, without knowing all of this but the groundless rumors.
He isn't certain enough to say he would.
Ron held the dagger inside his pockets, not noticing the one his holding was the end of the blade. Worry was etched into every line of the old man's face.
Lily unconsciously held her mother's hand, she felt scared and panicked, wanting and wishing wherever his eldest brother is, was somewhere far and discreet, hard—impossible to find.
While Violan was trying to be strong for the four of them, she knew she have to comfort her when she felt the other's hand trembling against hers.
But it was already hard to keep her tears to herself, much less give a reassuring smile and say; Everything's going to be okay when she knew it wouldn't.
Basen was feeling dizzy and wanted to throw up so badly, he was anxious and afraid, he wanted to calm himself but it wasn't easy to let himself forget things for a moment.
Deruth looked equally devastated.
The scene changed again, however this time, it was different.
[ Cale's complexion was pale with a yellow tinge and his crimson red hair was scattered down his shoulders.
At some point, he have lost weight, as though his entire body seemed to only hang by a thin thread, so weak he would easily topple over with a gentle push.
In contrast to the walls he had built, thick and sturdy.
A man stood before him.
"You..." The other party says through clenched teeth.
Golden specks of dust lingered in the air, and Cale's emotionless gaze bore into the other person's eyes. ]
Their eyes widened as they recognize the other person.
It is someone they are familiar with and they all knew.
They all looked toward the spot where the ancient dragon stood before. It was empty and he can't be seen anywhere else.
There's a beat of silence,
and another.
They looked paled and shaken, dread begins to coil itself around their hearts as a realization came to them as though they were splashed by cold water right on their face.
it was not a memory of the past,
it was the present.
A voice pulls them back to the scene in front of them.
Cale opened his mouth to speak, breaking the silence, but they'd rather he hadn't.
[ "Here..." his voice did not fluctuate.
He then spread out his hands, his white, thin fingers placed on the middle of his chest, and he finishes. "You have to stab me right here." ]