My Ruin to You - Chapter 99

The sun hung at its zenith, yet the winter forest, barely clinging to its light, remained dark and gloomy. A slanting ray of the feeble winter sun draped over the roof of a lonely abandoned house at the foot of the mountain slope.

The house had clearly been deserted for years—its roof sagging in places, windows shattered, and the door half-collapsed.

Inside was even bleaker. Faint light seeped through the cracks, glinting wetly off bloodstains soaked into the rotten wooden floor. In one corner sat a massive wooden cage, its door hanging open. Inside, scattered iron stakes and purposeless chains bore witness to its former use. And against the deepest wall of the cage, curled into himself, was the bandit who had once played leader.

What had once been a place for extorting nobles and wealthy merchants had now become a hell that was stealing his life away.

In less than a day, he had lost all his fingers. That brat hadn’t been part of the deal. He’d thought to sneak the young lady away and claim the ransom for himself—but whether the kid had vanished into the earth or soared into the sky, there was no trace left to follow.

The longer she stayed missing, the closer he crept to death. He’d confessed everything he knew about the boy, offered every possible hiding place he could think of—but if Roseline wasn’t there, the torture resumed. Pleading ignorance only brought more pain. Any hope of leaving alive had long since withered. Even the creak of the half-broken door in the wind made him flinch and tremble.

Creeeak—

The door swung open, and a tall figure stepped inside. Creak, groan. The parched floorboards let out mournful sighs under his boots as his black cloak swayed indifferently. The bandit, drowning in terror, whimpered helplessly: “Forgive me. Please—just kill me, Your Highness.”

“Point.”

Valen entered the cage and dropped a map. When Merrick followed, placing a lantern beside it, the faint light rippled over the drawn mountain ranges, valleys, and winding paths. Some spots were marked with an “X” and a name.

The mountains weren’t particularly treacherous, but their sprawling ridges and dense forests made finding someone determined to hide nearly impossible.

“Choose carefully. I’ve no intention of letting you die gently before she’s found.”

The moment that icy voice fell, the bandit—his hands clumsily wrapped in bloodied cloth—froze mid-reach over the map. The Grand Duke’s words were absolute. He didn’t know where that brat could be hiding, and if torture was inevitable, he’d planned to beg for a quicker death—but now, a chill crawled down his spine, every hair on his body standing on end.

“Here.”

A black military boot tapped a spot on the map.

“Your wife and children were here, weren’t they?”

“Y-Your Highness—!”

“I’m accommodating your level. Why hesitate?”

The bandit, who had once taken hostages to get his way, now begged for his family’s lives with snot and tears streaking his face. His sobs cut off abruptly as his trembling fingers scrambled over the map.

“H-he mentioned finding a usable cave recently!”

“A cave?”

“Y-yes! The entrance was narrow—barely enough for a person—but he said it was deep and spacious inside… S-somewhere around here…”

His bloodshot eyes darted over the map until his quivering hand stabbed at a corner.

“H-here! Right here!”

“I’ll verify it.”

Merrick knelt, examining the indicated area. The blunt finger pointed to a ridge some distance from the abandoned house—near one of the “X” marks. Gathering the map and lantern, Merrick rose.

“I’ll dispatch knights to search.”

When Valen extended his hand, Merrick silently returned the map. “This is the location,” he said, tapping the estimated cave position with a fingertip.

“I’ll go.”

Crushing the map into a fold, Valen turned without another glance at the bandit. Sunlight filtering through the branches scattered over his black hair and cloak as he stepped outside. A day and a half—he hadn’t slept a single moment. The bloodshot edges of his eyes and the sharp line of his jaw carved an even fiercer aura. Like those nightmare days when he hadn’t known if Roseline was alive.

“…We couldn’t find the young lady. Forgive us, Your Highness.”

Giorno dismounted and bowed. Roycen, arriving shortly after, did the same in silence. Valen passed them without a word, his only movement the clenching and unclenching of his bony hands. Just the briefest glance, yet Giorno and Roycen stiffened as if struck.