Chapter 337: Whose Neck Will the Noose Tighten Around?
“If hanging those ignorant people could fix all the mistakes, then this world would be far too kind,” Gawain said with a wry smile, shaking his head as he listened to Lady Ropeni. “They were merely incited or bribed accomplices.”
“But they’re even more detestable than the masterminds,” Lady Ropeni Grant said coldly. “My husband stood up against tradition and rules for their sake, giving those who had only ever wallowed in the mud a chance at a decent life. Yet they were deceived by little lies or bought off with a bit of money, and suddenly transformed into a mob—storming the castle, looting its treasures, attacking their own lord!”
Amber, who had been quietly listening, finally couldn’t hold back. She stared at Gawain and Lady Ropeni in disbelief. “Wait, are you saying that most of the rioters who attacked the castle were actually the very people the Viscount Roman helped?”
“Exactly,” Gawain nodded. “That’s the conclusion I drew based on your investigation. It matches what I expected from the start. Once I learned about Viscount Roman’s specific reforms and the subsequent mob attack, I knew it would unfold this way.”
Lady Ropeni looked at Gawain with a mixture of suspicion and doubt. Having calmed down somewhat from the emotional pain of revisiting old wounds, she began to question his true intentions. “Why do you say that?”
Gawain didn’t answer directly. Instead, he posed a new question: “Do you want to know why your husband failed?”
Lady Ropeni hesitated, then took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Why should I discuss these long-past events with you?”
“If you understood the laws Cecil is currently implementing, you probably wouldn’t ask that,” Amber interjected. “The Cecil territory is also gradually freeing serfs and slaves, and land redistribution is happening alongside it…”
“My husband already failed at that once. I never thought anyone would try the same thing again,” Lady Ropeni said, staring at Gawain. “Now that you know what happened here years ago, it’s best to stop while you still can. Such heretical acts…”
“There’s nothing wrong with heresy itself. Your husband failed because he made three critical mistakes,” Gawain interrupted, shaking his head. “First, he moved too fast. Second, his grip wasn’t firm enough. Third, he kept the people in ignorance.”
As he spoke, he turned toward the wall behind the desk, gazing at the oil portrait of Viscount Roman Grant, who smiled faintly from the canvas.
“He was a pioneer, a bold reformer. But like many pioneers, he made grave errors. He tried to correct the flaws in the Ansu system and unleash the power of the people, but he lacked a sound plan. He threw all reforms together without considering their interactions or the gradual nature of social transformation. His reforms threw the order into chaos. If I’m right, those newly freed serfs and slaves caused turmoil early on because they had neither land nor property. That’s why your husband had to redistribute land prematurely, which only made things worse.”
“Second, he didn’t have enough strength to resist the backlash. He failed to secure a loyal armed force and underestimated how fiercely the traditional nobles, whose interests were threatened, would fight back.”
“And finally, the most fatal mistake—he never told those freed people why all this was happening.”
Gawain paused, then looked Lady Ropeni in the eyes. “His noble pride blinded him. He never truly understood the lowest commoners—their thoughts, their knowledge, their logic. He assumed they would grasp this great cause as he did. He gave land and rights to the people intending to improve their lives, but to the common folk, it was just another ‘charity’ from the highborn. If lords could give handouts, so could others. If lords could take benefits, so could anyone else.”
Lady Ropeni murmured, “How could they think that way…”
“How couldn’t they? That’s how it’s been for centuries. The nobles’ thunder and rain are their gifts; the lowly don’t need to think, only to endure silently. For hundreds of years, that’s what this noble-ruled society taught them,” Gawain said with a soft snort. “So I’m certain that when they were stirred up to storm the castle, they felt no guilt whatsoever. And when you later put them on the gallows, they wouldn’t feel wronged in the slightest.”
Silence fell over the study. For a long time, Lady Ropeni, Gawain, and Amber said nothing.
Finally, Lady Ropeni broke the quiet. “So, you came here just to talk about this? To help me understand how a disaster from years ago unfolded?”
Gawain smiled faintly and shook his head. “I just came to see a friend I’ve never met.”
He meant Patty, though Lady Ropeni likely assumed he referred to Viscount Roman. But that didn’t matter.
Turning back to the portrait of Viscount Roman Grant, Gawain studied the faint smile.
Just as he had thought, the world didn’t revolve around him, a traveler from another time.
There would always be those who awaken, those who dare to defy convention—like the wild mages who studied the essence of magic decades ago, or Viscount Roman Grant who launched reforms ten years prior.
That reform failed. Due to inexperience, limited vision, and mental constraints, Viscount Roman’s new policies collapsed within a few years. He was branded with many negative marks, becoming a cautionary tale cursed by demons. If not for the noble system’s need to save face, his fate might have been even worse. His brief reform became a lonely, romantic idealist’s solo—ununderstood and unrecorded.
But pioneers do exist. Before Gawain rose from the grave, there had already been one.
That was why Gawain came here to speak so much with Lady Ropeni Grant.
His original goal was simply to confirm Patty Grant’s existence and whether this land had been tainted by the Sleeper’s corruption. But after Amber’s investigation into the events years ago, he adjusted his plans.
He withdrew his gaze and nodded slightly to Lady Ropeni. “Lady, if you truly want to hang those who killed your husband, you should keep your noose ready. Wait for the right moment, and put it around the right neck.”
Lady Ropeni met his gaze quietly. “I’m afraid I don’t have such a noose.”
They held each other’s eyes for a moment before Gawain’s lips curved into a slight smile. “That’s perfect. I have one.”
Without waiting for her reply, he continued, “May I see Patty?”
“Of course,” Lady Ropeni nodded. “She’s always admired you.”
“I can’t keep my little admirer waiting,” Gawain chuckled. “Lead the way.”
With Lady Ropeni guiding them, Gawain and Amber arrived at the door to the young girl Patty’s room.
“She hasn’t been well mentally these past days, but she’s improved recently,” Lady Ropeni said as she opened the door. “Maybe she’s happy to hear you’re coming… When my husband was alive, he often told Patty stories about you.”
The wooden door, decorated with yellow and white tassels, swung open. Gawain stepped inside and saw Patty sitting in the center of the room, staring blankly out the window—through a wide crystal pane, gazing at the starry sky beyond the castle walls.
The room had many large windows. The castle’s walls here had clearly been heavily remodeled. Near the ceiling, Gawain even spotted a skylight—a rare feature in traditional castles—that let the midday sun flood the room.
“The doctor says she needs more sunlight—the magic in sunlight helps ease the itching and pain in her skin,” Lady Ropeni whispered.
Gawain recalled Patty’s words in the Dream City: she needed to enter the dream world to sleep well because of the itching and pain.
But there’s no sunlight at night.
At that moment, Patty finally heard the noise at the door. Her head jerked toward the sound, then her face lit up with a radiant smile. “Uncle Gawain!”
Lady Ropeni hurried forward, turning Patty’s chair around and correcting gently, “It’s Duke Gawain.”
“Uncle is fine. It makes me feel like I’m seven hundred years younger,” Gawain laughed, waving off the correction. Then he approached Patty. “See? Just like we promised, I came to visit you.”
The little girl blinked happily. “Yeah!”
Then, curious, she asked, “Uncle, did you really come back to life? The maid said the great hero who founded the country rose from the grave…”
Gawain glanced at Amber with a half-smile, then nodded to Patty. “Of course.”
“Really? You can come back to life!” Patty’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Then can Daddy do it too? He loves telling your stories! He’d really want to meet you…”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gawain saw Lady Ropeni’s fingers clutching the chair’s back tighten until they turned white.
“I don’t know if your father can come back like I did, but one day, we’ll all meet somewhere,” Gawain said softly, patting Patty’s hair. “If he knew you met me so early, he’d be very jealous.”
(End of chapter)