Chapter : 1753

  The rain in the first timeline did not wash things clean. It only made the world feel heavier. It turned the dirt into mud and the stone into ice. It was a cold, unrelenting rain that soaked through clothes and settled deep in the bones.

  In the study of a high tower overlooking the Ferrum lands, Viscount Rubel stood by the window. He watched the storm batter the glass. Rubel was a man who had spent his entire life waiting for a turn that never came. He was the younger brother, the spare heir, the man who stood one step behind greatness.

  He hated it.

  He hated the way the servants bowed lower to his brother, the Arch Duke. He hated the way the court looked past him. But most of all, he hated Lloyd.

  "He is a failure," Rubel muttered to his reflection in the dark glass. "A boy with no magic. A boy with no spirit. And yet, because of his blood, he gets everything. The title. The land. The future."

  Rubel poured himself a glass of wine, his hand shaking with suppressed rage. The Ferrum family was in ruins. The Arch Duke was dead. The Duchess was dead. By all laws of logic, Rubel should have stepped up to lead. He should have been the savior. But the laws of the kingdom were stubborn. As long as Lloyd Ferrum lived, Rubel was nothing more than an uncle.

  "It isn't fair," Rubel whispered.

  "Fairness is a lie told by the weak."

  The voice did not come from the room. It seemed to come from the shadows in the corner, or perhaps from the back of Rubel’s own mind. It was a smooth, oily voice. It sounded like gold coins rubbing together. It sounded like a promise.

  Rubel froze. He looked around the room. "Who is there?"

  A shadow detached itself from the bookshelf. It didn't look like a monster. It shifted and twisted until it looked like a young man, handsome but with eyes that were too bright, too yellow. It was Mammon, the Devil of Greed, though Rubel did not know that name. He only knew that this being understood him.

  "You are angry," the shadow said, walking closer. "You have every right to be. You are capable. You are strong. You have kept this family afloat while the boy plays at being a rebel. Why should you bow to a child who cannot even cast a simple light spell?"

  Rubel gripped his wine glass tighter. "He is the heir. It is the law."

  "Laws are written by men," the shadow purred. "And men can be rewritten. Or erased."

  The shadow stopped right beside Rubel. It leaned in, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

  "The boy is changing, Rubel. Have you noticed? The stress is breaking him, but it is also waking something up. He is starting to bend metal without touching it. If he fully awakens... if he becomes the true Ferrum... you will never be the Duke. You will be a servant until the day you die."

  Rubel’s face went pale. He had seen it. He had seen the way Lloyd’s anger seemed to make the room shake. He had seen forks bend when Lloyd was upset.

  "What do I do?" Rubel asked. "I cannot just kill him. The King would investigate. The people would revolt if they thought I murdered my own nephew."

  "You don't need to kill him," the shadow said, a cruel smile spreading across its face. "Not yet. First, you need to break him. You need to make him so crazy, so broken, that he destroys himself. You need to make him do something so reckless that the King executes him for you."

  "How?" Rubel asked. "He is stubborn."

  "Every man has a weakness," the shadow said. "The boy thinks he is alone. He thinks the world is against him. But he has a secret. A tiny, warm secret hidden in the woods."

  Rubel frowned. "The cabin?"

  "The girl," the shadow corrected. "Mina. The sister of his wife. The only person in this cold, miserable world who actually looks at him with love. She is his anchor, Rubel. She is the only thing keeping him sane."

  The shadow placed a hand on Rubel’s shoulder. The touch was freezing cold.

  "Take away the anchor," the shadow whispered, "and the ship will crash against the rocks."

  ________________________________________

  Chapter : 1754

  Miles away, in a small, hidden cabin deep in the forest, the world felt different. Inside the wooden walls, the roar of the rain was just a gentle drumming. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, orange glow over the simple furniture.

  The Original Lloyd sat on a rug by the fire. He looked younger here than he did on the battlefield. The lines of stress on his face were smoothed out. He was cleaning his sword, but he wasn't doing it with the frantic energy of a soldier. He was relaxed.

  Across from him, sitting in a worn armchair with a book, was Mina. She sometimes track him, and he doesn’t how she find him. However, Lloyd and she grew so close that, they are starting warm each other. Mina a widow, and Lloyd a broken man.

  Mina was not like her sister, Rosa. Rosa was sharp, brilliant, and intense—like a diamond that could cut glass. Mina was soft. She had warm brown eyes and a laugh that made you want to tell her your best jokes. She wasn't a powerful mage. She wasn't a warrior. She was just... kind.

  And to Lloyd, who had been treated like a mistake his entire life, that kindness was more addictive than any drug.

  "You're scrubbing that metal so hard you might scrub it away," Mina said gently, closing her book.

  Lloyd looked up and smiled. It was a genuine smile, rare and precious. "It’s rusty. Everything I own is rusty these days."

  "It’s just a sword, Lloyd," Mina said. She reached out and touched his hand. "Come sit with me. The war isn't going to start tonight."

  Lloyd put the sword down. He moved to sit by her feet, resting his head against her knee. She ran her fingers through his hair.

  "I feel safe here," Lloyd admitted quietly. "Out there... everyone wants something. They want me to lead, or they want me to die, or they want me to be my father. But here... I can just be Lloyd."

  "You are enough," Mina whispered. "Just as you are. You don't need to be a hero. You don't need to save the world."

  "I want to save us," Lloyd said. "I want to take you away from here. Far away from the politics and the fighting. Maybe to the South. Or across the sea."

  "We will go," Mina promised. "Soon. Once the winter passes."

  It was a beautiful dream. It was a fragile, perfect little bubble of happiness.

  And then, there was a knock at the door.

  Lloyd stiffened. He grabbed his sword instantly, the peace vanishing from his eyes. He motioned for Mina to stay back. He approached the door slowly.

  "Who is it?" Lloyd called out.

  "A friend," a voice replied. "I have a message from the resistance."

  Lloyd opened the door a crack. Standing in the rain was a young boy, soaking wet, holding a sealed scroll. It was a forgery, of course. A masterpiece created by Mammon and delivered by Rubel’s spies.

  Lloyd took the scroll and read it quickly. His eyes widened.

  "What is it?" Mina asked, stepping forward with worry on her face.

  "It’s a tip," Lloyd said, his voice rising with excitement. "A supply caravan. Rubel is moving gold to pay his mercenaries. It’s unguarded. Mina, if I can take that gold... we could leave. We could leave tonight."

  "Lloyd, wait," Mina said, grabbing his arm. "It sounds too easy. It’s pouring rain. Why would they move gold in a storm?"

  "Because they think no one is watching!" Lloyd insisted. "This is my chance. I have to go. It’s only a few miles away. I’ll be back before dawn."

  Mina looked at him. She had a bad feeling. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach. "Please don't go. Stay here. We don't need the gold."

  "I need to do this," Lloyd said. He looked at her, his eyes full of a desperate need to prove himself. He wanted to be the provider. He wanted to be the man who saved her, not the failure who ran away. "I need to win, Mina. Just one win."

  He kissed her on the forehead. It was a quick, distracted kiss.

  "Lock the door," Lloyd said, grabbing his cloak. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

  Mina stood in the doorway and watched him run out into the storm. She watched him mount his horse and ride away into the darkness. She wanted to scream at him to come back, but she stayed silent. She didn't want to hold him back.

  Chapter : 1755

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  She closed the door and locked it.

  But a lock on a wooden door is nothing to a man with an axe.

  From the tree line, Rubel watched Lloyd ride away. He smiled. It was a sad, twisted smile.

  "He took the bait," Rubel said to the empty air.

  Behind him, twelve men stepped out of the shadows. They were not ordinary bandits. They were Shadow Knights—mercenaries clad in black armor, paid a fortune to do a job that required no mercy.

  "Go," Rubel commanded. "Make it messy. Make sure he sees exactly what his failure cost him."

  The knights drew their weapons and walked toward the cabin where the light was still warm and inviting.

  ________________________________________

  The storm grew worse. The thunder cracked like a whip across the sky, shaking the ground.

  Lloyd rode hard. The mud flew up from his horse's hooves, coating his cloak. He reached the location mentioned in the scroll—a narrow pass near the old river bridge. He waited.

  And he waited.

  The rain poured down. An hour passed. Then two. There was no caravan. There was no gold. There was only the wind howling through the trees.

  Slowly, a cold feeling started to creep up Lloyd’s spine. It wasn't the cold of the rain. It was the cold of realization.

  He looked at the scroll again. The seal looked real, but the ink... the ink was running slightly in the rain. Royal ink didn't run.

  "A fake," Lloyd whispered.

  His heart stopped. Why would someone send him out here? Why would they lure him away from the cabin?

  "Mina."

  The name tore out of his throat. He spun his horse around so fast the animal almost slipped in the mud. He kicked its sides, screaming at it to run.

  The ride back was a nightmare. Every shadow looked like a monster. Every clap of thunder sounded like a scream. Lloyd prayed. He prayed to the gods he didn't believe in. Please let her be okay. Please let me be wrong. Take my arm, take my title, take anything, just let her be safe.

  He pushed the horse until its heart nearly burst. He tore through the forest, branches whipping his face, drawing blood.

  When he broke through the tree line and saw the clearing, his world ended.

  The cabin was gone.

  It wasn't just burned; it was demolished. The roof had collapsed. The walls were smashed inward as if a giant had stomped on them. The door was lying in the mud, splintered into a hundred pieces.

  "Mina!" Lloyd screamed. He leaped off the moving horse, hitting the ground and rolling. He scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud, running toward the ruins.

  "Mina! Answer me!"

  There was no answer. Only the sound of the rain hissing on the smoldering remains of the fire.

  Lloyd tore at the wreckage. He lifted heavy beams with a strength he didn't know he had. He threw aside broken furniture. He cut his hands on shattered glass and rusty nails, but he didn't feel it.

  He found her near the hearth.

  She was lying on the rug where they had sat just a few hours ago. But the rug was no longer white. It was soaked red.

  Mina was gone.

  The attack had been brutal. They hadn't just killed her; they had made sure she suffered. They had made sure that whoever found her would be scarred for life. Her eyes, once so warm and brown, stared up at the broken ceiling, empty and glassy. Her hand was outstretched, reaching toward the door, as if she had been waiting for him to come back.

  Lloyd fell to his knees.

  A sound came out of him. It wasn't a word. It wasn't a cry. It was a raw, animal noise—a howl of pure, absolute agony. It was the sound of a soul ripping in half.

  He gathered her into his arms. She was cold. So cold. The rain mixed with the blood on her face, making pink streaks that ran down to her neck.

  "I'm sorry," Lloyd sobbed, rocking her back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should have stayed. I shouldn't have left you. I'm sorry."

  He buried his face in her hair. It smelled of smoke and rain now, not the lavender soap she used.

  Chapter : 1756

  He sat there for a long time. The grief was a physical weight, crushing his chest, making it impossible to breathe. He wanted to die. He wanted to lie down beside her and let the cold take him too. He felt small. He felt weak. He felt like the failure everyone said he was.

  See? a voice whispered in his head. It wasn't Mammon this time. It was his own self-hatred. Everything you touch dies. You cannot protect anyone. You are weak.

  Yes, Lloyd thought. I am weak.

  Why are you weak? the voice asked.

  Because I care, Lloyd thought. Because I have a heart. Because I feel pain.

  Then get rid of it.

  The thought was sudden. It was sharp. It didn't feel like a thought; it felt like a command.

  Lloyd stopped rocking. He stopped crying. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in Mina’s blood. The blood was cooling, becoming sticky.

  He remembered the iron. He remembered the rust on his sword. He remembered the feeling he had sometimes, the strange buzz in his blood when he was angry.

  Rubel was watching.

  Lloyd didn't see him, but he felt him. He felt eyes on his back. He looked up toward the hill overlooking the clearing.

  He saw the movement in the trees. He saw the glint of armor.

  The grief inside Lloyd didn't vanish. It didn't go away. Instead, it froze. It was compressed under the weight of his rage until it turned into something else entirely. It turned into a black hole. A void.

  Lloyd stood up.

  He didn't stumble this time. He didn't slip in the mud. His movements were mechanical. Precise. Unnatural.

  He laid Mina down gently, arranging her hands so she looked peaceful. He took his muddy cloak off and covered her face, shielding her from the rain one last time.

  "Goodbye, Mina," Lloyd said. His voice was different. It wasn't the voice of a boy anymore. It was flat. It was devoid of emotion. It sounded like metal grinding against metal.

  He turned toward the hill.

  From the shadows of the forest, the twelve Shadow Knights emerged. They walked into the clearing, their black armor gleaming wetly in the storm. They formed a loose circle around him, their weapons drawn, confident that they were facing a broken, unarmed boy.

  Lloyd didn't look for an escape route. He didn't reach for the rusty sword at his hip.

  He simply stood there, letting the rain wash over him. But deep inside, the switch had been flipped. The grief was gone, replaced by a cold, mathematical calculation of trajectory and mass. The weeping heir had died in the mud with Mina.

  The thing that stood in the rain now was a monster. A machine of logic and death. And it was waiting for them to make the first move.

  Inside Lloyd’s mind, a catastrophic system failure was occurring. The grief was too massive, a jagged spike of data that his consciousness could not process. He saw Mina’s face—the warmth of her smile, the way she looked in the firelight—and then he saw the blood on the rug. The contrast was a fatal error. The pain was so intense that his brain, in a desperate attempt to prevent total psychological collapse, triggered an emergency override.

  It was like a massive circuit breaker tripping in a power plant to prevent a total meltdown.

  This pain is inefficient, a voice whispered in the cold, dark corners of his subconscious. It wasn't a demon or a system voice; it was the raw, stripped-down core of his own intellect, the Earth-trained engineer taking control of the broken noble. Emotional variables are causing a 98% drop in combat readiness. To survive this interaction, all non-essential human data must be quarantined. Initiating the ‘Black Box’ protocol.

  Lloyd’s perspective shifted. The world stopped looking like a tragedy and started looking like a blueprint. The rain wasn't a metaphor for sadness anymore; it was a liquid medium with a specific viscosity and conductivity. The men surrounding him weren't murderers; they were biological targets with structural weaknesses in their armor.

  "Hey! I'm talking to you, garbage!" The leader of the Shadow Knights shouted, his voice muffled by the heavy black steel of his helmet. He stepped through the mud and shoved Lloyd hard in the chest.

  Lloyd stumbled back, his boots sliding in the muck. But as he looked up, the knights stopped laughing.