Episode-877
Chapter : 1753
The rain in the first timeline did not wash things clean. It only made the world feel heavier. It turned the dirt into mud and the stone into ice. It was a cold, unrelenting rain that soaked through clothes and settled deep in the bones.
In the study of a high tower overlooking the Ferrum lands, Viscount Rubel stood by the window. He watched the storm batter the glass. Rubel was a man who had spent his entire life waiting for a turn that never came. He was the younger brother, the spare heir, the man who stood one step behind greatness.
He hated it.
He hated the way the servants bowed lower to his brother, the Arch Duke. He hated the way the court looked past him. But most of all, he hated Lloyd.
"He is a failure," Rubel muttered to his reflection in the dark glass. "A boy with no magic. A boy with no spirit. And yet, because of his blood, he gets everything. The title. The land. The future."
Rubel poured himself a glass of wine, his hand shaking with suppressed rage. The Ferrum family was in ruins. The Arch Duke was dead. The Duchess was dead. By all laws of logic, Rubel should have stepped up to lead. He should have been the savior. But the laws of the kingdom were stubborn. As long as Lloyd Ferrum lived, Rubel was nothing more than an uncle.
"It isn't fair," Rubel whispered.
"Fairness is a lie told by the weak."
The voice did not come from the room. It seemed to come from the shadows in the corner, or perhaps from the back of Rubel’s own mind. It was a smooth, oily voice. It sounded like gold coins rubbing together. It sounded like a promise.
Rubel froze. He looked around the room. "Who is there?"
A shadow detached itself from the bookshelf. It didn't look like a monster. It shifted and twisted until it looked like a young man, handsome but with eyes that were too bright, too yellow. It was Mammon, the Devil of Greed, though Rubel did not know that name. He only knew that this being understood him.
"You are angry," the shadow said, walking closer. "You have every right to be. You are capable. You are strong. You have kept this family afloat while the boy plays at being a rebel. Why should you bow to a child who cannot even cast a simple light spell?"
Rubel gripped his wine glass tighter. "He is the heir. It is the law."
"Laws are written by men," the shadow purred. "And men can be rewritten. Or erased."
The shadow stopped right beside Rubel. It leaned in, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"The boy is changing, Rubel. Have you noticed? The stress is breaking him, but it is also waking something up. He is starting to bend metal without touching it. If he fully awakens... if he becomes the true Ferrum... you will never be the Duke. You will be a servant until the day you die."
Rubel’s face went pale. He had seen it. He had seen the way Lloyd’s anger seemed to make the room shake. He had seen forks bend when Lloyd was upset.
"What do I do?" Rubel asked. "I cannot just kill him. The King would investigate. The people would revolt if they thought I murdered my own nephew."
"You don't need to kill him," the shadow said, a cruel smile spreading across its face. "Not yet. First, you need to break him. You need to make him so crazy, so broken, that he destroys himself. You need to make him do something so reckless that the King executes him for you."
"How?" Rubel asked. "He is stubborn."
"Every man has a weakness," the shadow said. "The boy thinks he is alone. He thinks the world is against him. But he has a secret. A tiny, warm secret hidden in the woods."
Rubel frowned. "The cabin?"
"The girl," the shadow corrected. "Mina. The sister of his wife. The only person in this cold, miserable world who actually looks at him with love. She is his anchor, Rubel. She is the only thing keeping him sane."
The shadow placed a hand on Rubel’s shoulder. The touch was freezing cold.
"Take away the anchor," the shadow whispered, "and the ship will crash against the rocks."
________________________________________
Chapter : 1754
Miles away, in a small, hidden cabin deep in the forest, the world felt different. Inside the wooden walls, the roar of the rain was just a gentle drumming. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, orange glow over the simple furniture.
The Original Lloyd sat on a rug by the fire. He looked younger here than he did on the battlefield. The lines of stress on his face were smoothed out. He was cleaning his sword, but he wasn't doing it with the frantic energy of a soldier. He was relaxed.
Across from him, sitting in a worn armchair with a book, was Mina. She sometimes track him, and he doesn’t how she find him. However, Lloyd and she grew so close that, they are starting warm each other. Mina a widow, and Lloyd a broken man.
Mina was not like her sister, Rosa. Rosa was sharp, brilliant, and intense—like a diamond that could cut glass. Mina was soft. She had warm brown eyes and a laugh that made you want to tell her your best jokes. She wasn't a powerful mage. She wasn't a warrior. She was just... kind.
And to Lloyd, who had been treated like a mistake his entire life, that kindness was more addictive than any drug.
"You're scrubbing that metal so hard you might scrub it away," Mina said gently, closing her book.
Lloyd looked up and smiled. It was a genuine smile, rare and precious. "It’s rusty. Everything I own is rusty these days."
"It’s just a sword, Lloyd," Mina said. She reached out and touched his hand. "Come sit with me. The war isn't going to start tonight."
Lloyd put the sword down. He moved to sit by her feet, resting his head against her knee. She ran her fingers through his hair.
"I feel safe here," Lloyd admitted quietly. "Out there... everyone wants something. They want me to lead, or they want me to die, or they want me to be my father. But here... I can just be Lloyd."
"You are enough," Mina whispered. "Just as you are. You don't need to be a hero. You don't need to save the world."
"I want to save us," Lloyd said. "I want to take you away from here. Far away from the politics and the fighting. Maybe to the South. Or across the sea."
"We will go," Mina promised. "Soon. Once the winter passes."
It was a beautiful dream. It was a fragile, perfect little bubble of happiness.
And then, there was a knock at the door.
Lloyd stiffened. He grabbed his sword instantly, the peace vanishing from his eyes. He motioned for Mina to stay back. He approached the door slowly.
"Who is it?" Lloyd called out.
"A friend," a voice replied. "I have a message from the resistance."
Lloyd opened the door a crack. Standing in the rain was a young boy, soaking wet, holding a sealed scroll. It was a forgery, of course. A masterpiece created by Mammon and delivered by Rubel’s spies.
Lloyd took the scroll and read it quickly. His eyes widened.
"What is it?" Mina asked, stepping forward with worry on her face.
"It’s a tip," Lloyd said, his voice rising with excitement. "A supply caravan. Rubel is moving gold to pay his mercenaries. It’s unguarded. Mina, if I can take that gold... we could leave. We could leave tonight."
"Lloyd, wait," Mina said, grabbing his arm. "It sounds too easy. It’s pouring rain. Why would they move gold in a storm?"
"Because they think no one is watching!" Lloyd insisted. "This is my chance. I have to go. It’s only a few miles away. I’ll be back before dawn."
Mina looked at him. She had a bad feeling. A knot of dread tightened in her stomach. "Please don't go. Stay here. We don't need the gold."
"I need to do this," Lloyd said. He looked at her, his eyes full of a desperate need to prove himself. He wanted to be the provider. He wanted to be the man who saved her, not the failure who ran away. "I need to win, Mina. Just one win."
He kissed her on the forehead. It was a quick, distracted kiss.
"Lock the door," Lloyd said, grabbing his cloak. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."
Mina stood in the doorway and watched him run out into the storm. She watched him mount his horse and ride away into the darkness. She wanted to scream at him to come back, but she stayed silent. She didn't want to hold him back.