I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 66

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 66
They were once Imperial Knights, even if they were fugitives now. Surely they were already plotting their escape from within, plotting to break through the encirclement. But Ern had no intention of letting them.
‘Loam and the Red Liquor Medium—I must take them alive. No exceptions.’
He needed answers. He had to capture at least one of them—Loam or the Red Liquor Medium—in a state where he could interrogate them. He couldn’t afford to kill them through overzealous pursuit, nor could he allow them to take their own lives when cornered.
“Hold on, Ern. Wait a moment. What are you planning to do alone?”
Ern gave Marquis Mosley a brief signal and threw himself straight into the villa. The blade that slid from its sheath caught the light with unusual brilliance.
* * *
“I pretended to be mad and wore jewels all over, never thinking they’d actually be useful.”
Caroline removed two earrings and handed them to Udith. They were to pay for the lodgings where Udith and her companions would stay.
Fortunately, they passed through the city gates without trouble. The soldiers at the checkpoint didn’t question Caroline once—not when she arrived in a carriage bearing the Rainland Count Household crest and elegantly produced her credentials as the Countess of Rainland.
The carriage left the Capital and traveled for some time before arriving at the Prel Barony. Like most places on the route to the Harbor, it was crowded with people.
“The finest lodging you have, please.”
Udith carefully tucked the jewels into her pocket. There was no reason to refuse when she was offering to pay. And so Udith secured the best room at the most exclusive inn in the barony.
Caroline booked the adjoining room for Iluer and Tan as well. When Iluer and Tan saw the ornate furnishings and immaculately maintained space, they couldn’t close their gaping mouths. True, the Rainland Estate had been spacious and fine, but when they’d arrived, it had been covered in dust, thick with cobwebs—nearly abandoned. To step from such a place into this luxurious inn for the wealthy was enough to make anyone’s head spin. Iluer and Tan declared they wouldn’t leave their room until the next morning—they had to get their money’s worth.
Udith, too, couldn’t help but marvel as she threw herself onto the plush, enormous bed. Lying alone on the wide mattress, fidgeting a little, she felt oddly hollow. Had she grown so accustomed to sleeping beside Ern these past few days that this emptiness gnawed at her?
“Money’s not bad, I’ll admit.”
She mused to herself, but the vast bed—empty but for her—felt lonelier than it should.
“Though, Ern’s size does make a difference.”
The vacancy left by his absence seemed all the more acute. When the damp miasma eventually lifted and she was sleeping alone, she’d feel the same hollowness then, too.
“When Ern leaves the estate, things will feel bare for a while.”
Once he captured Loam and heard the answers he sought, Ern would likely leave the Rainland Estate entirely—would definitely leave. Where he’d go, she didn’t know. Perhaps he’d settle somewhere in the Capital.
But one thing was certain: he would leave. From the beginning, Ern had lived with her only because of the Red Liquor Medium and his cohort. At first he’d suspected her of being in league with them; later, he’d feared they might use or harm her. Once he captured them, there would be no reason for Ern to stay.
“Well, it was always going to happen anyway.”
She was being foolish, getting worked up over nothing. Udith drew in a sharp breath. Being around him day after day had made her grow attached. But wasn’t that natural? Anyone—even an animal—grows fond of those they live with under the same roof.
When was the last time she’d given her affection to anyone? Udith shook her head at the thought. Her past life held no good memories worth dwelling on. What use was it to reminisce? This unfamiliar sensation of longing and emptiness was making her think foolish thoughts. When Ern left, she’d feel hollow for a while, then sad for a time. But loneliness was familiar. She’d adapt quickly enough.
“But is Ern managing all right? He’s caught them by now, hasn’t he?”
Surely Ern hadn’t failed to capture the Red Liquor Medium’s gang after coming all this way.
“He’s not throwing his body around fighting again, is he?”
From the few times Udith had watched Ern fight, she’d come to understand why they called him the mad dog. He didn’t spare his own body. He thought it efficient to trade one arm for an enemy’s throat. Fighting with such a mindset naturally carried great risk of injury.
“Or he’s hurt again and will insist that pouring liquor on the wound cures it.”
Ern treated alcohol like a panacea. Whenever he was injured, he’d pour it on the wound and drink it. He called it a disinfectant and painkiller both, or something like that.
“At least Marquis Mosley is with him, so he should be managing reasonably well…”
Shouldn’t he?
Unbidden, the image of Cain—unable to so much as catch his breath in Ern’s presence—flashed through her mind, but Udith deliberately looked away from it.
* * *
“Ungh.”
Ern’s blade, which had cut through Loam’s thigh, now hung beneath his chin. Loam knelt on one knee, his body a ruin.
“Why are you holding back? You’ve never beaten me once.”
“…Heh. And if you think I’d surrender so easily to someone like you?”
Despite the blade that might pierce his throat at any moment, Loam laughed as though possessed by madness.
“May we bind the prisoner, sir?”
Ern stepped back slightly as two soldiers approached with rope.
Things were coming into order. In all, fifteen people had been taken into custody: the woman and child presumed to be Marquis Ferni’s lover, Loam, the Red Liquor Medium, and others.
Three of the prisoners who resisted most fiercely had been killed, but the key figures were captured alive. As the Red Liquor Medium was led away, Ern swung his blade through the air, flicking it clean.
…….
Blood droplets clung to the blade scattered into the void, and in that space, the gaze of the Red Liquor Medium met Ern’s. The Medium stared at Ern for a long moment before muttering, “He will come soon.”
“Why does he say such a thing when he looks at me?”
The moment Ern moved toward the Red Liquor Medium, Loam’s voice caught at his ankle.
“Every time that old man sees you, he mutters the same thing. Though I suppose it’s just an exclamation to him—probably means nothing. By the way, your skills have improved, haven’t they?”
Bound by rope, Loam regarded Ern with intrigue.
“Did you gain some enlightenment when you died?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Ern seized Loam by the collar—the helpless man offered no resistance. His eyes blazed with savage light.
“Ern, not here. This isn’t the place for it. There are too many eyes.”
Cain rushed over, urgently pulling at Ern’s arm. Loam let out a small, bitter laugh.
“That’s right—not here. And the conversation would be long.”
Ern released his grip roughly, his voice dropping to something cold and thin.
“A dungeon interrogation chamber would be just right for a talk like this, wouldn’t it?”
At Ern’s words promising a harsh interrogation, Loam laughed again.
* * *
Ern watched Loam climb into the prisoner transport carriage, then turned to Cain with quiet instruction.
“Keep a close watch—he might try to end this himself. Gag him if you have to, keep his teeth from meeting his tongue.”
“Right. You’re heading straight to the prison then?”
He’d meant to. There were answers he needed from Loam and the Red Liquor Medium—answers he’d waited long enough to hear. But as he stood there, Ern found himself hesitating.
“Ern, why no answer? Are you coming directly? I can assign a soldier to guide you.”
Yet something held him back from saying it. All morning, from the moment they’d fought in the mud until now, with blood-smell still sharp in his senses, Ern hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Udith.
It was foolish, he knew. The road to the Harbor was well-traveled—large merchant caravans passed through, there were towns along the way, relatively safe by report. But Udith had no proper escort. Even if she reached the Harbor safely, he couldn’t rest easy; the Harbor was a maze of vagrants and nameless drifters, a haven for criminals and lawbreakers.
If she met the Marquis Ferni’s wife’s sister directly upon arrival, perhaps it would be well enough. But he didn’t know when that woman was due to arrive. If he’d brought Henry along, at least… no. Ern raked a hand through his disheveled hair. The feeling came to him, cold and certain, that going to the Interrogation Chamber would be a waste.
“Keep them alive until I get back. If they die, you die.”
“Wait, wait—Ern. Get back? Where are you going?”
“I’m going out for a bit. Keep both of them breathing until I return, understood?”
“Does it hurt to speak plainly? Do you lose your tongue if you explain your plan? Just tell me, Ern—don’t go running off without a word!”
He’d already waited so long for answers. What was one or two more days? His mind was elsewhere anyway. He doubted he could conduct any real interrogation in this state.
“Where are you going? Ern, where are you going?”
“The Harbor.”
Ern, who’d been turning to leave, suddenly pivoted back toward Cain.
“I’m heading to the Harbor. You don’t go near there. Your men either.”
“Why would you suddenly head there?”
“Even if something comes up, don’t follow. Understood?”
With that warning delivered—whether Cain was bewildered or angry, Ern neither knew nor cared—he strode to Gold, tethered at a distance, and vaulted into the saddle in one fluid motion.
“Let’s go. To the person who gave you your name.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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