Chapter 182: The Letter and the Mess Left Behind
Watching Lilith Kant’s figure vanish into thin air alongside Viscount Kant, Gawain looked somewhat surprised.
He hadn’t expected Lilith Kant to be a product of the nightmare as well.
Originally, he had assumed Lilith was a living person—the only lucid “dreamweaver” in the entire castle. But clearly, his judgment had been off.
He and Amber approached the massive stone crypt and saw the two skeletons inside, along with the viscountess’s body—preserved by magic, yet untouched by decay. Only then did it dawn on him: Lilith Kant was truly dead. Perhaps she sacrificed her life to activate this dreadful dream ritual, or maybe to better “reach” her husband and son. Either way, she had truly given up her life.
The figure wandering the northern tower’s dungeons, the one carrying a lantern through the castle’s corridors—that was merely her shadow. No wonder the viscountess, as a “dreamweaver,” hadn’t left the castle in thirty years. It wasn’t because she refused to leave, as Gawain had thought, but because she simply couldn’t.
But none of that mattered anymore. The dream had ended. The sunlight of the real world now shone upon this dark, ancient fortress. Dreamweavers and dreamwalkers alike had returned to where they belonged.
What remained was only a tangled mess in the waking world.
Amber was still a bit dazed. This incredible adventure had left her mind in a jumble (though, to be fair, her thoughts were often scattered). Staring at the crypt and the three bodies inside, she finally blurted out, “So… we’ve actually been tangled up with three dead people all this time?”
“It’s this entire land that’s been entangled with them for thirty years,” Gawain shook his head. “The Ever-Sleepers… they really are the most dangerous of the three dark cults.”
“A guy climbing out of a coffin, looking at three people lying in coffins, lamenting how evil cults ruin lives… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more supernatural than this in my life,” Amber muttered, as if spooking herself. Then she glanced down and suddenly perked up. “Hey, Gawain, there are some papers here!”
A few enchanted parchment sheets, faintly glowing, lay scattered in front of the crypt—right where Viscount Victor Kant had disappeared. Gawain picked them up in surprise and saw the viscount’s handwriting:
“This is… left by Viscount Kant?”
“Left by him? Is it a letter for you?” Amber blinked rapidly. “Quick, see what it says!”
“It is a letter, but not just for me. There are also letters addressed to the king and public notices,” Gawain said, flipping through the parchments quickly. The neat script came into focus:
“I am Victor Kant, Viscount of the Ansu Royal House, lord of Kant Town and its surrounding fields, manors, and villages in the southern region. By the name of my ancestors, I swear that all I say is true, and these facts must be made public to warn the world.
“My family has been cursed by the Ever-Sleepers.
“The cultists have corrupted my lands with their wicked ritual magic. For thirty years, countless innocents have perished in these rituals. My wife was controlled by dark sorcery, and my soul was not spared the curse—I became its accomplice…
“If not for the help of Duke Gawain Cecil, I would never have found peace. The duke answered my call, risking his life to lift the curse that hung over me and my family…”
“To His Majesty the King—Your loyal vassal sends greetings. This will be my final secret letter to you regarding the events in the Kant domain…
“The events unfolded as described. I swear on my last shred of humanity and my family name that all is true.
“I have no heirs or direct relatives to inherit my title or estate. My wife is the same. Only a distant nephew remains, but he is mentally unfit to bear noble honor. Therefore, according to the kingdom’s laws, I will return the ancestral lands to the crown. But before that, I must repay Duke Cecil’s kindness—this is a debt of salvation.
“I hereby offer all my wealth, except the lands—this includes the castle’s library, treasures, antiques, and six pioneering farms in southern Kant not part of the fiefdom—to Duke Cecil as a gift, granting him full rights to dispose of them as he sees fit.
“All wealth produced by my lands this year, except the portion owed to the crown, is also gifted to Duke Cecil.”
Alongside a public letter to the southern nobles and a secret letter to the king, there was one addressed specifically to Gawain:
“Duke Gawain Cecil, by the time you read this, my soul should have found peace.
“I feel only joy and calm about this ending, no bitterness. If there is any regret, it is that I failed to fulfill my promises—I swore to reverse my family’s decadence, to avoid the cruelty of the new generation of nobles, and to emulate your pioneering ancestors by developing the land, sheltering refugees, and protecting the innocent and poor. But in the end, I failed miserably.
“I am grateful that before my soul was completely swallowed by darkness, you appeared in time to dispel the shadow over this land.
“In my youth, I regarded you as a role model and idol. I even dreamed of becoming a knight like you—charging into darkness to carve out a new home for the people. That’s why I established the six farms in southern Kant. Perhaps that is the only bright spot in my miserable life.
“If fate had allowed, meeting you under different circumstances might have been the proudest moment of my life. I would have gladly given up my title and wealth to become your squire, following you to the frontier lands beneath the Dark Mountains to fulfill the dreams I could not.
“But none of that will come to pass.
“Besides the castle’s possessions and those six farms, I can think of no other way to repay you. However, I believe you will be interested in some intelligence about the Ever-Sleepers.
“For years, I lived as a puppet within the dream, my thoughts controlled and guided. Perhaps because I was exposed to their power too much, the moment I regained free will, I glimpsed some truths behind this ‘curse.’
“Beware—the Ever-Sleepers’ conspiracy is far bigger than just the Kant domain. The horrific sacrifices in this castle are only one ‘node’ in their grand plan, which they call a computational node. Their plan requires many more souls and victims…
“Their scheme may spread across the entire world, dragging all intelligent beings into an abyss of no return.
“But their actions are not without traces. From what I have discerned, each ‘computational node’ requires many living humans as ‘consumables.’ In the south, they may capture refugees secretly to meet ritual needs, but in places with fewer refugees and better order, careful observation of disappearances and population shifts can reveal their trail.
“I have reported these matters to His Majesty the King. At the same time, I hope you remain vigilant against the cult’s resurgence near you—in this declining southern kingdom, you are the people’s last hope.
“—Victor Kant, a sinner who once truly wished to be a good man.”
Gawain’s eyes moved over the words, flipping through the parchments until the last sheet appeared.
Amber’s sharp eyes immediately noticed it didn’t look like a letter. “Hey! This one doesn’t seem addressed to anyone!”
“That’s right. It’s a lord’s decree, meant to be posted publicly in the domain,” Gawain read the contents carefully and sighed softly. “He freed all debts owed to the Kant family by the people, emancipated all serfs and castle servants as free individuals, and declared they have the right to leave the domain freely.”
Amber blinked, suddenly recalling something Gawain had said before. “Hey, I remember you saying that emancipation should be gradual or something…”
“Exactly. It should be gradual. Freeing serfs outright can strip them of the basic protections landlords provide. Without proper land redistribution and support systems, these newly freed servants, relying only on a small severance, won’t last long. They’ll soon lose their freedom again, ultimately selling themselves back into servitude or slavery,” Gawain shook his head. “But Victor Kant wasn’t some naive idealist. He must have known this, but he had no choice. The Kant family is gone, and with the Ansu royal administration’s current inefficiency, a new lord probably won’t arrive for a year or two. According to Ansu law, all property in the castle belongs to the noble personally; servants have no private property. So during this interim, those left behind by the old lord are the most miserable. They either try to survive on their own—which is illegal for serfs—or steal from the castle to sell, which is also a crime.
“That’s why Viscount Kant freed them all and gave them the right to leave—at least leaving them a way out.”
Amber paused, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “Feels like… a huge mess to clean up!”
“It definitely is a mess, but someone has to deal with it,” Gawain said with a grimace. “And I have a feeling it’s fallen on me.”
Amber gave him a cheeky wink. “So it’s good to be us—usually, we finish the job and just walk away, no need to worry about the aftermath. Except when we’re slow, and someone else has to clean up after us…”
Gawain shot her a look and grabbed her arm. “Yeah, you took your time digging up that grave last time, so now you’re coming with me to clean up this mess.”
(End of chapter)