IARMDH Chapter 29

 

 

“This time, let me ask you. What did you do to my corpse?”

 

If Cliff—the one who killed him and personally handled his body—didn’t know, then who else would?

 

“I’m the one who should be asking. That day, I clearly confirmed you had stopped breathing and even ordered for you to be placed in a coffin.”

 

Cliff let out a deep sigh, exhaling the strong scent of alcohol.

 

“If you were me, would you just throw away the corpse you personally murdered anywhere? A corpse is evidence, after all.”

 

That made sense. To Cliff, Erne’s body was a reminder of his crime. A criminal would naturally want to hide even the smallest piece of evidence.

 

“Bring it.”

 

At Cliff’s command, the butler brought a pouch of money and placed it on the table.

 

“This is the compensation the Countess demanded back then.”

 

Although it was within Erne’s reach, Cliff personally picked up the pouch and handed it over.

 

“Take it. I’m sure you have a mountain of debts to repay.”

 

Erne was about to say something but stopped. Underneath Cliff’s fingers holding the pouch, he noticed something—a small, white piece of paper.

 

“Go on.”

 

For a brief moment, their eyes met over the pouch of money. Cliff subtly shifted his gaze toward the butler.

 

It was only for an instant, but there was fear in Cliff’s eyes. Erne didn’t miss it.

 

“…Fine.”

 

Erne reached out his hand. He felt the rough texture of crumpled paper against his palm.

 

“Take care.”

 

“I hope we never see each other again.”

 

Without looking back, Erne left the drawing room. The elderly butler personally held his horse’s reins and escorted him to the mansion’s gates.

 

Only after confirming the butler had completely re-entered the mansion did Erne unfold the small note Cliff had secretly passed him.

 

“A follower. In the mansion right now. Being threatened. Help.”

 

“He poisoned my drink, and now he’s asking me to save him?”

 

He really had no shame. Erne frowned as he crumpled the note in his hand.

 

Cliff had clearly been wary of the butler. That meant the butler was also one of the followers.

 

“I knew something was off ever since his body became like that because of the truth potion.”

 

A chronic illness? Erne had known Cliff for years. If that were true, there was no way he wouldn’t have known about it.

 

“The fact that he wrote a note instead of saying it out loud means there are more of them.”

 

After a brief moment of thought, Erne turned his horse toward the Mosley Marquisate.

 

This situation was going to be messier than expected.

 

***

 

“Stop staring. You’re going to burn a hole through my face.”

 

“How can I not stare when a man who was supposed to be dead is standing here alive? And what about the marriage? Is that real?”

 

Erne completely ignored Marquess Mosley’s question.

 

“Tell your men: Cliff Ackerman must be kept alive. If they act like fools, I won’t let it slide.”

 

“Judging by that temper, you’re definitely the Erne I know.”

 

The young Marquess shook his head in disbelief. When Erne had suddenly barged in, demanding to go capture the followers, Mosley had first thought he was seeing a ghost.

 

They said he was dead, yet here he was, chasing down followers even after death.

 

Mumbling in confusion, Mosley only snapped out of it when Erne grabbed his collar and shook him.

 

I have no idea what possessed him to come all the way here.

 

It was already shocking enough that Erne was alive, but now he wanted to go on a manhunt?

 

Still, since Erne insisted they needed to capture the followers, Mosley had no choice but to bring his soldiers along. His mind was still reeling.

 

This is all Erne’s fault.

 

Erne didn’t even give him time to process the situation.

 

 

“Did you catch Roam?”

 

“You were the one who tipped us off?”

 

“Yes. I even gave you the exact location. You caught him, right?”

 

“Well… about that…”

 

 

They hadn’t.

 

Even though they had moved as soon as they got the tip, the targets had already evacuated.

 

Upon hearing this, Erne exploded in anger, ranting about how they had failed even when the information had been spoon-fed to them.

 

Mosley had no excuses.

 

“You go to Cliff Ackerman. Leave the rest to me and my soldiers.”

 

“How reassuring.”

 

Erne narrowed his eyes at him.

 

Mosley barely swallowed the retort that almost escaped his lips—Then why did you even come to me in the first place?

 

But he held back. After all, he owed Erne his life multiple times over.

 

While Mosley’s soldiers surrounded the mansion, Erne slipped in through the back entrance.

 

From inside, someone shouted, “Who are you?!”

 

At that, Marquess Mosley drew his sword.

 

“All units, move in!”

 

***

 

Cliff was safely rescued by Erne. The butler, along with three other followers, was captured in the room directly below the parlor where Cliff and Erne had been talking.

 

Half-burned candles, the scent of burnt herbs, an inverted triangle drawn on the floor, and murky red gemstones—these signs made it clear that they had been conducting some kind of ritual.

 

“Oh, I have no idea what they were up to.”

 

Now visibly relieved after being rescued, Cliff shamelessly asked Erne for a glass of water.

 

“Don’t make that scary face. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

 

Although Erne didn’t want to deal with a drunkard, he handed Cliff a cold glass of water. Cliff gulped it down before suddenly breaking into a crazed, cackling laugh.

 

“That old man must have let his guard down.”

 

“Talk so I can understand.”

 

“The day I drank the truth potion, I realized I was under a binding curse. It wasn’t an illness—I was coughing up blood because of that curse.”

 

Cliff had ties to the followers even before the rebellion. They had often been his clients, helping him win trials and providing influential support from behind the scenes.

 

However, after the rebellion failed, Cliff severed all ties with them.

 

In retaliation, the surviving followers began blackmailing him, using evidence of their past dealings. As a result, Cliff was forced to provide them with escape funds multiple times.

 

“I never expected them to place a curse on me. It was designed to make me cough up blood and die if I tried to talk about them.”

 

“Then why did you go into seclusion for recovery?”

 

“That part was real. Apparently, they still found me useful enough to keep alive.”

 

Cliff couldn’t remember where he had been taken or what had been done to him.

 

“When I came to, I was in front of the capital’s gates, and my body was in this miserable state.”

 

The butler had told him that if he obeyed, he would regain his ability to walk. But if he didn’t, he would suffer greatly.

 

“But you know what, Erne? Turns out, people don’t die so easily.”

 

Cliff, who had been scowling while speaking about the butler, suddenly smirked.

 

“There was one particular follower I used to deal with—a higher-ranking one, even above the butler. He came to me and said that if I provided him with money, he’d free me from the binding curse.”

 

The butler had no idea he would be betrayed.

 

Cliff secretly handed over a hidden promissory note from his study to this high-ranking follower.

 

“And did he actually break the curse for you?”

 

“Yes. That’s how I was able to write you that note.”

 

The butler had placed an even stronger binding curse on Cliff, but he had been careless, occasionally leaving Cliff alone.

 

“When they told me to call for you, I knew it was my chance.”

 

If anyone could save him, it was Erne.

 

Just as Erne was about to ask about his own corpse, Cliff raised a finger to silence him, signaling that he should listen further.

 

“The first time I decided to kill you, the butler suggested getting poison from the followers. He said providing only escape funds wasn’t enough and that the followers were experts in such things.”

 

At the time, Cliff didn’t realize the butler was working with the followers, so he simply agreed and purchased the poison from them.

 

“In exchange, they asked for your corpse.”

 

“What did they want with my body?”

 

“How would I know? I didn’t ask. I just placed it in a coffin, and they came to collect it themselves.”

 

Cliff had assumed they would dispose of it properly. But then, out of nowhere, Erne had come back to life—imagine how shocked Cliff must have been.

 

“I’ve been thinking… I believe those bastards experimented on your body.”

 

“Experimented?”

 

“When I first sent an assassin after you, the butler didn’t object. But when I tried sending more assassins later, he stopped me.”

 

Isn’t that strange? Cliff absentmindedly fiddled with his water glass.

 

“It’s like they wanted to see if you could keep fighting off assassins.”

 

That wasn’t all. The butler was also the one who had summoned Erne to the mansion, handed him the compensation money, and given him just the right amount of information.

 

“All throughout our conversation, the butler was watching only you.”

 

That had actually made it easier for Cliff to slip Erne the note unnoticed.

 

“Even before they caught me, there were three spiritualists—followers—gathered downstairs. They were probably monitoring your reaction while we talked.”

 

Erne ran a hand through his hair, his expression growing tense.

 

“If you want more details, ask the butler yourself. Oh, and thanks for saving me today.”

 

Cliff grinned shamelessly, as if asking, Satisfied now?

 

“It’s too soon to relax. You still have ties to the followers, which means you could be charged with treason.”

 

“If someone is forced into aiding a crime under threat of death or severe injury, the law takes their circumstances into account.”

 

At Erne’s words, Cliff smoothly recited a legal clause.

 

“My legs may not work, but my brain still does.”