Linia Took in a Child - Chapter 4: The Pursuer (5)

Hilton Slode was the oldest living mage in the Empire. While he wasn’t renowned as one of the most powerful practitioners of magic, his vast knowledge and experience far surpassed that of many others.

Before leaving for Damon County, Hilton had entrusted his life’s work—books and research materials—to his apprentice, fearing he might not survive this mission. It wasn’t a mere concern of bad luck; Hilton was certain that only extraordinary fortune would bring him back alive.

The danger was clear. Edwin Schpenhardt, the man they were pursuing, had already proven capable of unspeakable atrocities. He had brutally murdered the Empire’s most accomplished mage, his own grandfather, leaving the body so mutilated it was unrecognizable.

Moreover, three skilled mages who had pursued Edwin were found dead within days, their deaths a chilling reminder of the threat he posed. Despite the fear gripping the magical community, Hilton had volunteered for this operation.

He hadn’t done so out of recklessness. If no one stepped forward, the Imperial Court would undoubtedly conscript someone against their will. Hilton understood the younger mages’ reluctance; they had their futures ahead of them. If someone had to sacrifice themselves, he believed it should be someone like him—an old man nearing the twilight of his life.

Carrying this sense of duty, Hilton arrived at Damon County. But when he finally came face-to-face with the boy, a chill ran down his spine.

The boy appeared ordinary on the surface, yet the immense magical energy radiating from him was anything but normal.

‘This isn’t the kind of power an average mage could possess…’

The magic surrounding the boy’s body felt unnatural, almost alien. Hilton couldn’t help but suspect that this power wasn’t even the boy’s own.

‘Could it be… magic stolen from others?’

The thought was horrifying but plausible. The act of stealing magic was akin to murder. Only a deranged mage—or a prodigy with unparalleled mana sensitivity—could perform such a forbidden act.

Though Hilton had never seen or attempted this himself, he had read about it. Over a century ago, there had been mages who practiced this dark art, using it to kill others and absorb their magic. One of them had even disguised his wife’s death as a heart attack after draining her mana.

Hilton recalled a particular detail from his research: on the night of the murders in the Schpenhardt household, a servant had reportedly died of a heart attack. Most had dismissed it as unrelated, focusing instead on the Duke’s death. But Hilton had been intrigued by the coincidence.

His suspicion was solidifying into certainty. Edwin, once hailed as a prodigy of magic, could have easily learned and mastered such a technique.

‘But… weren’t the books containing this knowledge destroyed?’

Hilton knew the Empire had declared such texts forbidden and burned them long ago. Even in his youth, Hilton had only heard about these practices from his mentor. Where could Edwin have possibly learned them?

One thing was clear: Edwin wasn’t merely a madman killing for pleasure. He was killing to gain power—using his magic to fuel even more murders. Left unchecked, he would continue to grow stronger, leaving a trail of death in his wake.

By the end of the dinner, Hilton’s hands were clammy with sweat. He couldn’t even recall how he had managed to eat.

Returning to his guest room, Hilton sat in deep thought until the appointed time arrived. As night fell, he quietly left the mansion and climbed into a waiting carriage. Inside, a dim lantern illuminated Russell Damon and Linia, seated across from him.

After a few minutes of silence, Russell finally spoke.

“Now, please tell us—was that boy truly just a boy?”

Hilton met their anxious gazes and slowly began to speak.

“…I could hardly believe it myself,” he admitted. “He’s mastered the art of disguising himself so perfectly as a child.”

“Then… are you saying…”

“Yes,” Hilton said gravely. “That boy is Edwin Schpenhardt. Without a doubt, he is not an ordinary child.”

His words left Russell and Linia speechless. Silence filled the carriage, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the horses’ hooves.

The carriage continued its journey, eventually stopping in front of an inn on the outskirts of the estate. In the inn’s lobby, a knight awaited them and led the group to a room at the far end of the second floor.

Inside the room, the head of the Imperial First Knight Division, Trakan, was seated at a table, flanked by three deputy commanders.

Russell greeted them with formal pleasantries before taking a seat. Linia followed and sat beside him, though her mind was still reeling from Hilton’s revelation. Accepting this truth felt almost impossible, yet the conversation around her moved swiftly and decisively.

“It is confirmed—he is Edwin Schpenhardt. Proceed with the plan as originally discussed. I will ensure the mansion is vacated by early tomorrow morning.”

Russell’s words hung heavy in the air.

“Thank you for your cooperation. Once the premises are cleared, we’ll initiate the operation immediately,” Trakan, the captain of the Imperial First Knight Division, replied with a firm nod. He then turned to his knights, ready to dive into the specifics of the plan, but Hilton interrupted, his voice weighted with concern.

“…Before you go any further, I must insist that you listen to me. This isn’t feasible—at least, not yet.”

Trakan furrowed his brows, his gaze sharp. “What do you mean by that?”

“We need to reconsider the plan,” Hilton said gravely. “Judging by the magnitude of his magic… I honestly don’t think we stand a chance. Even I, having seen him with my own eyes, cannot gauge the extent of his power.”

Hilton’s words caused a ripple of unease. From his perspective, no number of knights, no matter how skilled, would be sufficient to subdue Edwin without a countermeasure against his magic.

“If we proceed without a proper strategy, it will be a massacre. That’s my belief.”

Trakan’s expression hardened, though his words remained respectful. “Your concern is noted, but I think it’s unnecessary. The Imperial First Knight Division, the finest in the Empire, wouldn’t be wiped out by a single individual.”

Though his tone was measured, his gaze carried a quiet reprimand for what he perceived as Hilton’s cowardice.

“Unless you have a better solution, we will proceed with the operation as planned. Delaying to devise a new plan isn’t an option at this point,” Trakan continued, his jaw tight with frustration.

Hilton pressed on, undeterred. “Even so, forcing the operation despite knowing the risks—”

“Do you suggest we let him slip through our fingers again?” Trakan interjected, his voice dropping low. “He’s evaded capture multiple times, slipping through the grasp of every net we’ve cast. For all we know, he might already be aware of our movements.”

His clenched fist pressed harder against the table, his restraint barely holding back the urge to slam it in anger.

“May I remind you, Mage Slode, that it was our knights who inflicted the injury on his shoulder, not the mages,” Trakan said coldly.

In his mind, Hilton’s objections were nothing more than the excuses of someone too afraid to face the danger head-on. To Trakan, the mage’s presence was already barely tolerable—a single old mage sent to assist them after so many younger ones refused. His interference now was little more than an annoyance.

“You were summoned to confirm his identity. That task is done, and your services are no longer required. You are free to return to the capital.”

Trakan’s tone left no room for further argument. He immediately turned to his sub-commanders to resume their strategy.

“We will proceed as planned. Ten knights, including myself, will breach the mansion first. The remaining knights will secure all exits and prepare for any attempts to escape.”

“Understood, Captain,” one of the deputies replied.

Linia sat frozen, her hands clenched into tight fists on her lap. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped imprints that stung painfully. She focused on the sharp sensation, using it to steady herself as she fought against the rising tide of fear and despair.

But then, Trakan spoke words that shattered her fragile composure entirely.

“The target will likely be disguised as a child. If you see the child, eliminate them on sight.”

For a moment, Linia felt as though she were underwater, the world around her muffled and distant. The captain’s command echoed in her mind, stark and cold.

“Eliminate them on sight.”

* * *

Ruin stood silently by the window, gazing down at the mansion grounds below. The moonlight illuminated the scene clearly. He could see her stepping back inside after a late-night trip outdoors. Russell, the man who had accompanied her, was still by her side. The mage who had been with them earlier was nowhere to be seen, likely regrouping with the others.

Still concealed in the shadow of the curtains, Ruin continued to watch them. He couldn’t quite make out her expression from such a distance, which frustrated him. After a brief exchange with Russell, she disappeared into the mansion.

Once she was out of sight, Ruin moved to the bed and sat down. Time ticked by, yet he remained still, his small frame unmoving, his expression void of emotion.

Eventually, Ruin rose to his feet. He stepped into the darkened corridor, his short legs moving at a measured, deliberate pace. Everything about this body was inconvenient—it was small, weak, and slow. But as he walked, he reminded himself that this would be the last time he would need to endure such limitations.

“I should’ve asked her for a kiss,” he thought idly.

There was regret, not for his inevitable discovery, but for not pushing her further, for not taking advantage of her kindness more while he had the chance.

Finally, Ruin reached her door. He turned the knob.

The door was unlocked.

Moonlight spilled softly onto her bed, where she sat curled up, her head buried in her knees. Ruin stepped inside.

He knew she would no longer fall for his facade after her conversation with the mage. She wouldn’t waver at the sight of his childlike form anymore. Yet, he still approached her as the boy, still holding onto the role he’d been playing.

“Linia.”

Her slender shoulders trembled at the sound of his voice. She didn’t respond. But Ruin continued, his tone soft and childlike.

“I had a scary dream just now.”

He sat down in front of her, looking up at her motionless form. Her thin arms clutched her knees tightly, her fingers trembling as they gripped them like a lifeline.

“When I woke up, all I could think about was you. Can you hold me? I’m scared…”

No response.

“Linia? Can’t you hold me?”

The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint sound of his voice. Ruin’s mind wandered as he gazed at her. By dawn, the knights and mage would storm the mansion. He wondered what her expression would be then.

Would she feel relief, knowing he was about to die? Would she despise him, loathe him for deceiving her all this time? Was that why she refused to look at him now—because she found him disgusting?

“Ruin.”

Her voice cut through his thoughts, faint and unsteady.

Ruin lifted his crimson eyes to meet hers. To his surprise, there was no hatred or anger in her tear-filled gaze. Instead, it was marred with confusion, sorrow, and an unbearable sadness.

“Run.”

Her whispered plea was so soft it almost dissolved into the stillness of the room.

“Please… don’t ask me anything. Just… run away.”

For a moment, Ruin was stunned. This was not the reaction he had expected. Her words lingered in his mind as he tried to make sense of them.

After a pause, he raised his pale, delicate hands, gently cupping her face. His small fingers trembled slightly against her cheeks.

Then, he leaned in and pressed a brief, soft kiss to her lips.

Linia’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before slowly reopening, her expression a mix of shock and resignation. Ruin, meanwhile, smiled radiantly, his angelic face aglow in the moonlight.

His hands fell away as he stood and turned toward the door. Linia watched his small figure disappear through the doorway. She couldn’t tell if letting him go was the right decision or a terrible mistake.

As the door clicked shut, silence returned to the room. Only the cold light of the moon remained, softly blanketing the spot where Ruin had just been.