Home / The Life I Refuse to Waste / Chapter 21

Chapter 21: What He Left Behind

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“All right. You've answered almost all of my questions, Hera,” Zeldryn said.

Hera remained standing where she was.

Zeldryn didn't continue immediately.

His gaze shifted toward the candle on the table.

The small flame moved gently whenever the night wind slipped through the gap in the window. Every now and then, it leaned to one side before slowly straightening again.

Zeldryn watched it while going over everything he had just learned.

About himself.

About the Giorry family.

About this mansion.

And about the kind of life Zeldryn had lived before he woke up in this body.

Most of the questions that had been filling his head were finally beginning to get answers.

Although somehow, the more answers he found, the stranger the previous owner's life seemed.

Zeldryn looked away from the candle.

“Maybe just a few more questions.”

Hera immediately straightened slightly.

“Please ask, Lord.”

Zeldryn gave a small nod.

There was one thing that had actually been bothering him since earlier that afternoon.

“Why hasn't a single servant come to my room since I returned from the hall this morning?”

Hera blinked.

Zeldryn continued.

“No one brought me food. No one checked on me. No one even knocked on the door.”

“And I was injured pretty badly.”

Hera looked confused for a moment after hearing the question.

But the confusion quickly disappeared.

She remembered that the person standing before her had supposedly lost most of his memories.

Things that every servant in this mansion had long considered normal were no longer something Zeldryn knew.

“Well, Lord...”

Hera lowered her head slightly.

“Actually, that was a rule you created yourself.”

Zeldryn raised an eyebrow.

“My rule?”

“Yes, Lord.”

Hera nodded.

“In the past, you forbade servants from entering your room without permission.”

“The servants were only allowed inside when cleaning the room, changing the sheets, lighting the candles, or doing other work that specifically required them to enter.”

“Other than that, no one dared come inside.”

Zeldryn fell silent.

So that's why.

No wonder the room had been so quiet since that afternoon.

Even though his condition still hadn't fully recovered.

He had spent quite a while alone in the room, even trying to sense mana, yet not a single person had come to check on him.

At first, Zeldryn had assumed the servants simply didn't care much about him.

Apparently, he had created the situation himself.

But Hera wasn't finished.

Her expression slowly changed.

Her previously calm gaze dropped toward the floor.

The hands clasped together in front of her tightened slightly.

“Back then... when I had just started working here...”

Hera's voice became quieter.

“I once brought food to your room.”

Zeldryn watched her.

Hera paused for a moment before continuing.

“At the time, I still didn't fully understand the rules you had set.”

“I thought that since it was time to eat, I should bring food to your room like a servant normally would.”

Hera's fingers moved slightly.

“But you became extremely angry when you saw me enter with the food.”

Zeldryn could already guess what came next.

Unfortunately, his guess was right.

“You beat me that day, Lord.”

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The room fell silent again.

Zeldryn said nothing.

His eyes briefly dropped toward Hera's hands.

The bandages wrapped around both of them were still clearly visible beneath the candlelight.

Those injuries weren't from the incident Hera had just described.

Yet for some reason, seeing those bandages while hearing another story about the old Zeldryn left an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

He looked away.

“Then how did I normally eat?”

Hera answered almost immediately.

“You usually went to the kitchen yourself, Lord.”

“To the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

Zeldryn frowned slightly.

Hera nodded again.

“Whenever you were hungry, you would go there and order the kitchen servants to prepare whatever food you wanted.”

“Sometimes you would also take ingredients from the kitchen yourself.”

Hera paused.

As though she was deciding whether the next part was worth mentioning.

In the end, she continued anyway.

“And... sometimes you would make a mess of the kitchen and its ingredients whenever the food they prepared wasn't to your liking.”

Zeldryn remained silent for several seconds.

Then he slowly sighed.

Of course.

Everything was starting to make more sense.

The servants hadn't been neglecting him.

They were simply following rules Zeldryn himself had created.

In fact, they were probably deliberately staying away from his room because they were afraid of doing something that might anger him.

Thinking about it now, his habit of suddenly appearing in the kitchen whenever he got hungry was probably a nightmare for the servants working there too.

Especially if the old Zeldryn really used to wreck the place whenever the food wasn't exactly what he wanted.

Zeldryn leaned back slightly.

Piece by piece, the smaller details of the previous owner's life were beginning to fit together.

And so far...

Almost all of them were terrible.

Zeldryn raised his head again.

“All right.”

Hera focused her attention back on him.

“One last question.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Zeldryn went silent for a moment.

The events in the hall that morning flashed through his mind again.

Aeglo.

Henry.

The servants.

The guards.

And the words that had slipped from his mouth at the time.

He still remembered saying that he didn't care whether those two lived or died.

Back then, Zeldryn hadn't thought much about what would happen after he left the hall.

Now, he was starting to wonder.

“What happened to Aeglo and Henry after this morning?”

Hera immediately fell silent.

The change in her expression was obvious.

But Zeldryn found it difficult to describe.

There was a hint of sadness.

Yet at the same time, part of her seemed relieved.

Two emotions that should have contradicted each other appeared on her face at once.

“Aeglo is dead, Lord.”

Zeldryn didn't move.

Even though he had already understood that possibility when he gave the order that morning, hearing it directly still felt different.

“Dead?”

“Yes, Lord.”

Hera lowered her head.

“After you left the hall, the guards and servants began beating both of them.”

“Because you said you didn't care whether they lived or died, no one stopped them.”

Zeldryn listened without interrupting.

“Even some of the servants and guards who had been outside the hall were called inside.”

“They took turns punching and kicking Aeglo and Henry.”

Hera's voice remained quiet.

There was no pride in the way she told the story.

But Zeldryn couldn't hear any pity either.

“Then one of the guards kicked Aeglo in the chest.”

“Aeglo was thrown backward and fell.”

“At first, everyone thought he had only passed out.”

“But when they checked him, he was no longer breathing.”

Zeldryn stared at Hera.

“And after that?”

“After Aeglo died, the guards started holding back against Henry.”

Hera took a small breath.

“Henry eventually lost consciousness.”

“Between the wound from his severed finger and all the punches and kicks he received, he couldn't remain conscious any longer.”

Zeldryn still remembered Henry's finger being cut off in the hall that morning.

He didn't ask any further about the injury.

“He's still alive?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Where is he now?”

“The guards took him to the holding cells near the village.”

Zeldryn slowly nodded.

At least now he knew what had happened to both of them.

Aeglo was dead.

Henry was still alive and locked up.

Simple.

Yet precisely because it was so simple, Zeldryn didn't know how he was supposed to react.

He didn't know Aeglo.

He didn't know Henry either.

Everything he knew about them came from what they had done to Hera and what he had personally witnessed that morning.

Zeldryn looked at Hera again.

Only then did he notice something.

Her hands were trembling.

Very slightly.

Almost impossible to notice unless someone was paying close attention.

But this time, the trembling was different from what he had seen several times before.

Hera didn't look afraid.

She wasn't stepping backward.

Her shoulders weren't tense.

There was no panic in her eyes as she tried to figure out whether she had just said something wrong.

It was the opposite.

It looked as though something that had been pressing down on her for a long time had finally been lifted, even if only slightly.

Zeldryn watched her for several seconds.

Then he chose not to say anything.

He didn't know what Hera truly felt about Aeglo's death.

And he didn't think he had the right to force her to explain it.

Zeldryn looked away.

“All right, Hera.”

Hera immediately straightened again.

“I've gotten all the answers I need for now.”

“Thank you, Lord.”

Zeldryn gave a small nod.

“I'll probably still ask you a lot of questions after this.”

“Whether it's about the Giorry family, this mansion, or other things I should already know.”

For now, you're the only person I can ask without raising too much suspicion.

Hera looked at Zeldryn for a moment before lowering her head again.

“I'll answer anything I know, Lord.”

“Good.”

Zeldryn paused.

Then his voice became slightly heavier.

“But remember what I told you earlier.”

Hera's body immediately stiffened.

“No one can know that I've lost my memories.”

“No matter who asks.”

“Servants.”

“Guards.”

“Even members of the Giorry family.”

Zeldryn stared at Hera seriously.

“If even a single word about this leaves your mouth...”

He stopped.

There was no need to finish the sentence immediately.

Hera already knew exactly what he was implying.

“You know what will happen to your family, don't you?”

Hera's eyes widened slightly.

But only for a moment.

She immediately bowed deeply.

“Of course, Lord.”

“I already made my promise.”

Hera's voice sounded much firmer than before.

“I'll take this secret to my grave.”

Zeldryn didn't respond.

He only nodded once.

Hera understood it as a sign that their conversation was over.

She straightened herself again.

Then bowed one more time.

“In that case, I will take my leave, Lord.”

Hera turned around.

Her footsteps slowly carried her toward the door.

The faint sound of her shoes against the floor echoed through the quiet room.

When she reached the door, Hera extended her hand toward the handle.

But before opening it, she stopped.

Only for a moment.

Zeldryn, still sitting on the bed, watched her back.

Hera said nothing.

She simply took a small breath before finally opening the door.

Air from the hallway immediately entered the room.

The light from several candles outside slipped through the opening as well, making the room slightly brighter than before.

Hera stepped outside.

But before leaving completely, she turned around one last time.

“Good night, Lord.”

Zeldryn looked at her.

“Good night.”

Hera lowered her head.

Then she slowly pulled the door closed from the outside.

The light from the hallway grew thinner.

Little by little.

Until only a narrow line remained across the floor.

Click.

The door closed.

Hera's footsteps could still be heard from the other side for several seconds.

Growing farther away.

Growing quieter.

Until they disappeared completely.

Zeldryn was alone again.

Once more, the room was illuminated only by the dim yellow glow of the candle on the table.

Hera's voice was gone.

There were no more questions he needed to ask tonight.

Only the occasional sound of wind slipping through the gap in the window.

Zeldryn remained sitting on the bed.

His eyes stared blankly ahead.

In a single night, he had learned more about the previous owner of this body than he had throughout the entire day since waking up.

And somehow...

The more he learned about the old Zeldryn Giorry, the more problems seemed to be waiting for him in the future.

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