Niklaus closed his eyes for a moment, as if the wind meant nothing to him.
But inside, he was thinking about how they would enter the duchy. The entry wouldn't be easy at all.
He and Ethan set off toward the capital's border, heading to the duchy. Walking on snow was extremely annoying, but he was used to it. Snow had been part of his daily life in his past existence, in the place where he used to live.
Finally, they approached the border gate that separated the capital from the duchy.
The guards were there, standing rigidly at the entrance, their eyes watching strangers as if weighing their worth before allowing them to pass. Here, there was no room for mistakes.
Niklaus studied the guards carefully from beneath his hood. He hid his face well. Red eyes were known throughout the entire empire as belonging only to the second prince. And that was a very annoying thing.
He thought about how they would cross. Then he said calmly: "You're the master. I'm your servant. We were robbed by bandits, and our wagon was destroyed."
Ethan stopped resisting the wind, looked at him for a moment, then smiled sideways as he brushed some ice off his shoulder.
Ethan, with a sarcastic smile: "Wait… wait a second. Did you just say that… I, the owner of this scruffy face, would be the honored noble? And you, looking like that despite the storms, would be my servant? You must be joking!"
Ethan studied Niklaus carefully, who didn't even respond. Then he lifted his chin slightly, as if already trying to slip into the role, but even so, he couldn't resist a sly smile.
They approached the guards, whose stares cut through them.
Ethan had fully entered his role. He lifted his head slightly, as if he were a noble born to be a master, and spoke with unwavering confidence.
Ethan: "Well then, servant. Because of your recklessness, we've been looted by barbarian bandits. How will you compensate me for everything I've lost because of your rashness? And now I'm homeless because of you. How am I supposed to enter the duchy now?"
Niklaus didn't move from his spot, like a stone thrown on the road.
Ethan turned to the guards, who had hesitated after hearing his words. He said in a condescending tone: "I need to enter the duchy. I have business here, and I have no time to waste at the gate. I was robbed, my identification stolen, because of your failure to secure the roads properly. I'll be sending a special complaint to the emperor about this."
The guard looked at them nervously, then said: "Don't worry, sir. We'll take care of it. Please forgive our negligence. Please, enter."
Ethan was smiling on the inside. Mentioning the emperor had indeed worked well. Still, the other guards continued to eye them with suspicion.
Niklaus and Ethan finally crossed into the duchy.
Once they were far enough away, Ethan couldn't contain himself. He turned to Niklaus with a wide grin.
Ethan, cheerfully: "Did you see that? We entered the duchy, and I looked like one of the great nobles!"
But Niklaus didn't respond. He just kept walking, as if the entire scene had been of no importance to him.
---
When they arrived at the heart of Vandemir, the scene before them was completely different from the harsh wilderness they had left behind. Vandemir was a city draped in nobility in every detail, but beneath that ancient aura, life pulsed with movement and stories hidden among its alleys.
The smooth stone streets stretched like arteries feeding the city's heart, under the feet of passersby whose appearances varied between merchants, knights, and common laborers. The stones were old but polished by the thousands of footsteps that had trodden them through the ages, their silent marks telling the stories of the history that had passed through here.
On both sides, buildings rose with their ornate facades. Some told the tales of wealthy families, while others were simple but alive with the spirit of their inhabitants. Balconies overflowed with flowers, shop windows were open displaying their goods, and banners bearing the symbols of the duchy and the empire fluttered from the tops of towers scattered among the neighborhoods.
The central market of Vandemir was a beating heart of activity, merchants shouting out their wares: silken fabrics from the southern lands, fragrant oils carrying the scent of eastern gardens, jewelry glittering in the daylight, and ancient books holding secrets for those who could read them.
Amidst this noise, there was a quieter side, where children ran through the alleys, their laughter echoing off the old walls. Some chased each other in a game that seemed like it would never end, while others sat on the edges of stone paths, drawing shapes with chalk on the ground.
In one of the squares, a musician played a mournful melody, his fingers dancing over the strings of his oud as if telling an old story through notes. In front of him, a few onlookers had stopped to listen, while others tossed small coins before continuing on their way.
Ethan, with his sparkling eyes, watched the scene with obvious wonder.
Ethan, with a wide smile as he looked at the market: "This is real life, my lord! The sounds, the smells, the noise that makes everything pulse… Don't you think it's wonderful?!"
But Niklaus did not comment. He simply watched the scene with quieter, more cautious eyes.
For him, cities always had two faces—one that pulsed with life, and another that hid secrets beneath its bright layers.
He looked at one of the side alleys, where there were eyes watching, faces that didn't belong to this noise, standing in the shadows, as if they were part of the city's invisible fabric.
Niklaus, in a low voice, as if speaking to himself: "All of this is just a surface."
But Ethan, of course, wasn't interested in the hidden face of things.
Ethan, laughing as he headed toward one of the stalls: "Well then, my honored lord, I think I need some royal food now! A great master like me cannot go hungry!"
---
Evening crept slowly over the Duchy of Vandemir, the sun scattering its last rays over the ancient buildings, painting their edges with a golden glow before disappearing behind the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat, flowing through the narrow, lively alleys. But for Niklaus and Ethan, those smells were like a hidden torture, reminding them of how hungry they were.
Hunger alone wasn't grinding them down—it was the exhaustion that had settled into their bodies after long days of travel. Walking through mountains and barren roads, without the comfort of good food or deep sleep. Snow had crushed their footsteps in the early days, while cold winds slapped their faces mercilessly, and there was nothing to do but keep going.
At first, their provisions had been enough—just water and pieces of bread. But water and bread wouldn't sustain them for days. They ran out that same day, and hunger began to assert its dominance, turning from a simple sensation into a suffocating weight in their stomachs.
Now, here in Vandemir, life was loud around them, but inside them there was only an emptiness begging for a single morsel to fill the gap.
Ethan looked toward one of the food stalls, his eyes shining with hungry desire: "My lord, if we don't stop here, I'll be forced to eat my cloak! Or maybe I'll start begging… I think I have the skills to convince people that I need charity!"
Niklaus, quietly, though hiding exhaustion in his voice: "If you try begging, we'll end up chased out of the city."
Ethan, with a dry smile: "At least I'd get to eat despite that…" He put his hand on his stomach, which was growling with hunger.
Niklaus knew the only solution was to find a cheap place to eat. So he headed toward one of the stalls where a large-built man stood, with messy brown hair and a thick mustache, watching customers with scrutinizing looks before serving them hot dishes.
Ethan stopped in front of the vendor and reached out for a piece of bread, but the man wasn't interested in giving anything away for free.
The vendor, in a rough voice, watching Ethan warily: "The duchy doesn't give away food for free, noble sir. Everything here has a price."
Ethan looked at the few coins he had left, then gave a forced smile, trying to bluff.
Ethan, in an exaggeratedly confident voice: "Ah, don't worry, I have money… but how about a deal? You give me some food, and in return, I'll tell you a great story that will make you forget the cold of this evening!"
The vendor looked at him for a moment, then chuckled deeply.
The vendor: "Your stories won't fill my stomach, young man. But I appreciate the attempt."
Ethan pulled out the remaining money Niklaus had given him along the way. Niklaus stood beside him in silence, watching the scene as if calculating the options available to survive in the city without needing to risk more spending.
In the end, they got some hot bread and a bit of soup. It wasn't a royal feast, but it was enough to restore some of the strength the past days had drained from them.
After finishing the food, the next question began knocking on their heads: where would they spend the night? They didn't have much money, and a fancy inn wasn't an option.
Ethan, walking beside Niklaus, looked at one of the inns and read the sign aloud: "The Golden Star Inn… looks classy, doesn't it?!"
Niklaus, quietly without looking at him: "We can't afford it."
Ethan, with a heavy sigh: "Fine, then let's look for something less flashy and more suited to our miserable state."
The two continued searching until they reached a small inn on the edge of the market. Its walls bore the marks of time, but it seemed like a practical place for those not seeking luxury.
They went inside, where the innkeeper welcomed them—a middle-aged man in simple clothes. He looked at them as if measuring their ability to pay before speaking.
The innkeeper: "A small room? Or a shared room? Prices vary. If you're looking for something cheap, I have a decent place."
Niklaus looked at Ethan, who seemed ready to throw himself onto the nearest bed without argument, then nodded.
Niklaus: "The cheapest room will be enough."
And so, after a grueling journey, and after negotiating for food and shelter, they finally found a temporary refuge in the heart of Vandemir. But this city gave no comfort for free. Niklaus paid a silver coin to the man, who took it immediately and hid it away, then handed them the key.
Ethan took the key and entered the room. There was no moment of hesitation: he threw his exhausted body onto the bed. He let out a long sigh, as if this worn-out mattress was the most comfortable thing he had felt in weeks.
As for Niklaus, he remained standing, his eyes silently observing the room's details. The space was small, its walls cracked, and parts of it carried a faint smell of moisture. A narrow window on the side barely let in any light, and the wooden table in the corner had its edges worn away by time. Not a place fit for a prince, but suitable for someone who wanted to disappear.
He sat on the bed opposite Ethan, showing no clear expression. But inside, his thoughts churned. What after this day? They had only a little money left, and the road to the Forest of Death was still far away. Weeks separated them from their final destination, and every step consumed more of their resources.
In the middle of his reflections, Ethan's voice came through, with its usual sarcastic tone.
Ethan, laughing as he looked around: "I can't believe this… The second prince of the Valderin Empire, Niklaus von Valderin Theodore Oblivion Azura, is now broke and will sleep in this shabby room?!"
Niklaus lifted his gaze to him for a moment, then replied in a quiet voice, without any mockery or irritation.
Niklaus: "Better than sleeping in the open."
That surprised Ethan more than he had expected. He had expected Niklaus to ignore his comment as usual, but to respond so calmly? That was unusual.
Ethan, with an astonished smile: "Wait, have you finally decided to speak instead of just shooting me your usual silent glares? Maybe a miracle is happening here."
But Niklaus didn't respond to his joke. He just stayed still for a moment, then rested his back against the wall and began to think. Not about food, nor about the few coins left with him, but about something deeper.
Ethan's words echoed in his mind. Why did he see this room that way? For Ethan, perhaps it was just a shabby room, but it was far better than what he had been used to as a slave, when his sleeping places had been cold cells, without bedding, without safety.
But Ethan didn't know that Niklaus, too, saw this place as luxurious compared to what he had lived through in the past.
In his past life, there hadn't even been rooms this bad. There had been cages, cold metal rooms, a morgue in all its harsh details. Places not meant for sleeping, but only for survival.
He remembered the early days in the lab, when he was a child among dozens of other children. Children who had no names, only numbers engraved on metal bracelets around their wrists.
In one phase of the training, they would gather the children and throw them into dark chambers deep in the forest, where predatory beasts roamed among the trees, breathing softly, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The test was simple to those who ran it: "If you can sense danger even while asleep, you'll survive. If you're weak… no one will ever see you again."
Long nights, he was forced to sleep in places where death lurked, where any uncalculated nap could mean something crawling through the darkness, approaching without him noticing.
How many children didn't survive? How many would disappear in the morning, leaving behind only silence?
Sleeping in that place was a daily battle, not a rest. There was no warmth, no roof for protection. None of the children there even knew what any of that meant. And Arthur was like them. A person who always lived by breathing, not by true living. Just that his heart beat and his lungs breathed. Nothing more.
Niklaus pushed his thoughts away from a past that was of no use to him now.
Ethan, putting his hands behind his head as he looked at the ceiling: "Well, my prince, since we're trapped in this situation, we need to think of a plan for tomorrow. We don't have much money, and we don't know how we're going to get by in the coming days."
Niklaus looked at him for a moment, then closed his eyes, as if rearranging his thoughts.
Niklaus: "We'll find a way."
Ethan, with a heavy sigh: "That usual answer that offers nothing… but fine, I'll trust those cold instincts of yours, because I don't have any other choice."
Niklaus looked at Ethan for a second, thinking: How talkative he is. It's not like I told him to come with me—he came on his own.
He pushed those thoughts away.
The room sank into a heavy silence. Ethan fell into a deep sleep. Meanwhile, Niklaus still sat on the bed leaning against the wall, as if his body had lost the ability to resist after the long days of exhaustion and hunger. He hadn't intended to fall asleep like that, but he found himself sinking into a slumber he couldn't resist.
But sleep wasn't rest for him. It was a door to memories he didn't want to open.
---
Niklaus stood in a space with no boundaries, as if the entire universe had folded in on itself. No ground beneath him, no sky above—only a heavy void pressing on his chest. In front of him, shadows moved. No clear shape to them, just dark entities writhing as if part of an endless darkness. They weren't mere ghosts, but something stranger.
They were calling to him. Not in intelligible words, but whispers seeping into his soul, inviting him to cross over to them, toward that darkness that seemed to be waiting to take him back without return.
But he wasn't alone.
On the other side, there was a group of people. He couldn't see their faces clearly, but they stood there, as if representing something he hadn't yet grasped.
At the front of the group stood a woman.
Her black hair fell like a quiet veil, and her gentle eyes carried deep sorrow, but despite that, she was not afraid.
She was looking at him, reaching her hand toward him. Her voice flowed to him through the darkness:
"Don't listen to them… you are stronger than they are."
"Don't let them take you. Don't weaken. You can overcome them!"
But the shadows grew stronger, trying to pull him toward them, like invisible hands wrapping around him, pushing him toward nothingness. Meanwhile, the woman kept shouting, her eyes tearful, her voice trembling, but she did not retreat.
"You are strong… you are stronger than you think… don't give in to them…"
"I… love you."
The words stopped there. As if silence itself had frozen for a moment.
Niklaus woke up suddenly.
His body jerked, his chest rising and falling rapidly, drops of sweat slipping from his forehead. He took a deep breath, but the feeling of suffocation didn't entirely fade. His hand was stretched out, as if trying to grasp something that wasn't there.
The dawn light was about to break, faintly seeping through the dilapidated window. But the morning cold was nothing compared to the cold he felt inside.
He remembered—though confusedly.
That woman… Empress Elisia… Niklaus's mother.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to absorb everything.
---
Ethan, despite being asleep, hadn't been in a totally deep slumber. In the quiet of the night, he heard scattered sounds—something unusual.
It was Niklaus's voice, but not as calm as he was used to hearing.
Fragmented sounds, jumbled words: "No… I can't… I cannot do that…"
He heard heavy breathing, restless movement, then—a soft friction sound, as if a hand had reached out to grasp something invisible.
At first, he didn't understand. But he felt a strange tightness in his chest.
His master was not usually like this. He didn't move in his sleep. He didn't talk.
So, for the first time, he felt genuine worry for him.
He raised his body slightly, about to call out to him. But when he noticed that Niklaus was starting to wake, he acted quickly, returning to the position of a sleeper, as if he hadn't heard anything.
Niklaus wiped his face with his hand, from his forehead down to his chin. He stayed silent for a moment, staring at the wall as if his mind was still in the dream.
Then he stood up, pushing away that disgusting feeling inside him caused by these incomprehensible dreams.
He looked through the window at the faint dawn light. The scent of fresh bread was beginning to seep from somewhere in the city, mixing with the cold morning humidity.