Enough with Dying as an Extra chapter 29

* * *

“Why on earth is the Count acting like this?”

When no one dared to answer, it was Vega, the knight commander who had known Haen the longest, who finally responded.

“No one knows. He just… suddenly started acting like this one day. …Well, some say it’s out of guilt because he played a part in killing the former Duke. But honestly, only he would know the truth.”

“Suicide… wasn’t it?”

“Wow, I can’t believe there’s still someone who thinks it was suicide. And of all people, that fool is working under me? This is just exhausting!”

At the mention of “playing a part in the killing,” someone asked, and one of the knights let out a bitter laugh.

Vega, who had been quietly tolerating the commotion, finally spoke up.

“…You do know the former Duke was imprisoned for eight years, right?”

“Huh? Yes, of course.”

“In the solitary cell at the very end of the prison. That place… It wasn’t meant for people who could be simply executed, but for those who had to die regardless. He wasn’t put there for punishment or reflection—he was put there to die. Just to die there.”

And the one who contributed the most to putting him there… was the Count.

Vega had been just a regular knight when it all happened, watching everything unfold from the sidelines.

The countless crimes that had, in truth, all been committed by Letiyan.

The victims those crimes had left behind—including Vivisian.

The people who had condemned Vivisian as a criminal, unaware of the truth.

And leading them all at the forefront—Haen.

Now that he laid it all out, it struck him even harder just how utterly wretched they had all been to a single person.

Vega, despite being one of the perpetrators, shamelessly found himself pitying Vivisian.

His death had not been as sudden or incomprehensible as some claimed.

It had been a fate meticulously woven from suffering, like threads interlacing a loom.

And Vega knew that every person standing here shared the same guilt toward Vivisian.

He was a man who had lived his life being cursed at until the very end.

Even now, one could argue that regretting and repenting changed nothing.

But at the same time, because he was gone, regret and repentance were the only things left to do.

As they silently stacked their regrets upon someone who would never hear them, someone suddenly murmured,

“I heard the former Duke was incredibly intelligent. Could it be… he killed himself hoping for this outcome?”

It was a question no one could answer.

Vega glanced at the tightly shut door of Haen’s chamber and let out a small laugh.

“Who knows? How could the living ever understand the thoughts of the dead? …Maybe he just kept thinking about it over and over until he went mad—just like the Count.”

“…Do you think things will ever get better? This can’t go on forever. The territory is a mess, the heretics—something has to be done about them…”

“Hah, who knows. To be honest, we spent years tormenting an innocent man until he died. How could things possibly get better so quickly?”

Vega laughed as if the very idea was absurd.

And he wasn’t wrong—no one could refute him.

They had thought his death wouldn’t matter.

And yet, everything was crumbling because of it.

Death was irreversible, and with Vivisian’s death, everything that had once seemed eternal was sinking—the glory of House Teian, the brilliant future of a single man.

✽ ✽ ✽

A few days later, Lejun woke up to the frantic shouts of knights outside.

There was nowhere for him to go even if he left his bedroom.

There was a secret passage, but the person beyond that door knew the passageways of the castle better than Lejun himself.

All he could do was curl up in a corner of the bed and pray that the intruder wouldn’t come inside.

Becoming a Duke had not changed the person he was.

As time passed, paranoia had crept in, convincing him that everyone saw him as pathetic.

He had no one around him. He had to endure everything alone.

For nearly ten minutes, he remained frozen, unable to hide the fear on his face.

The voices outside rose in desperation—pleas and accusations filling the air.

“The Duke’s chambers are off-limits! Kill me instead, if you must!”

“Count, please, get a hold of yourself! There’s not much time left until dawn—just hold on a little longer!”

Countless other words reached his ears, but as Lejun anxiously stared at the door, a sudden realization struck him.

“…It’s quiet outside.”

His instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.

Panicked, he scrambled out of bed.

“The underground passage—I have to get to the underground passage.”

It was said that even those who had been trained in navigating the tunnels since birth sometimes got lost inside them.

That thought had once made him swear never to use them.

But now, it was his only choice.

Lejun moved in a frenzy, unaware that his slippers had fallen off.

Just as he reached for the secret passage door, he heard the sound of his bedroom door creaking open behind him.

No one had died—yet.

But it was only a matter of time.

Every attempt had failed before, but the intruder who had just entered his room was someone who had always been utterly sincere when it came to killing.

Perhaps he would be the first to die by this person’s hands.

Faced with an undeniable reality, Lejun’s expression darkened.

Then, as if to confirm his fears, the cold blade of a weapon touched his neck.

“If you don’t want to die, don’t move, Your Grace.”

The voice was eerily calm—too composed for a madman.

Anger flared within Lejun at the thought that this man had been lurking somewhere, just waiting. He sneered.

“If you kill me, what happens to the empty Duke’s seat? Count De Winter, isn’t this House Teian the thing you cherish most? You dragged me here to get rid of Vivisian, so who did you bring in this time to get rid of me?”

His tone was far too light for someone speaking as a Duke.

Lejun had never suited the title.

He had always thought he was unfit for it. Haen chuckled faintly.

“As expected, Your Grace doesn’t suit that position.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who put me here.”

Lejun laughed, as if trying to force Haen to face reality.

But Haen remained silent, and Lejun, realizing he wasn’t actually amused, let the laughter fade.

“…You brought me here. Said I was gentler than someone like Vivisian, that I understood the struggles of the common people better. Said no one would ever be above me again. That I could have everything I wanted, that people would look up to me with admiration.”

You never told me about the misfortune I would have to endure!

I was foolish and ignorant, and I believed every word you said!

The more he spoke, the more his fear of death turned into violent trembling from rage.

People who couldn’t admit their own mistakes directed their resentment at the only one still alive.

And the one who stood at the very front, taking the brunt of that hatred—was none other than Lejun, the Duke who had cast aside Haen and Vivisian to claim the title for himself.

Lejun, having never experienced the full weight of public resentment before, found this entire situation utterly unbearable.

“You told me Vivisian was a bad person. That even if I wasn’t perfect, I would still be loved as Duke.”

Lejun murmured like a man lost in a dream—then suddenly, his face twisted in fury as he demanded,

“Then why am I the one who ended up being the villain?”

“……”

“Say something, Haen de Winter. Go on, make an excuse!”

It was unbelievable.

What he had thought was a lifeline had actually been rotten all along, and that rotten rope had led him not to salvation, but to a hell disguised as heaven.

Lejun was an adult. In the end, everything had been his choice.

Every word spat at him was an attempt to shift all the responsibility onto him, and yet, Haen showed no reaction.

He didn’t even smirk mockingly the way he usually did with Vividian.

He simply stood there, sword in hand, listening in silence.

“You’re so desperate to keep living, even if it means being pathetic?”

Lejun’s face stiffened at the unexpected scorn.

Since when had expressing his grievances become something pathetic?

Unable to say anything out of sheer bewilderment, he fell into a heavy silence.

Haen, who had been watching him in quiet contemplation, slowly lowered his sword.

“I’ve changed my mind. Not yet.”

“…What?”

Lejun turned slowly, his voice uncertain.

Haen, who had been staring blankly into the void, flicked his gaze toward him at the question.

His expression was so devoid of emotion it sent a chill down Lejun’s spine, and then—Haen’s lips curled ever so slightly.

“Who knows?”

Not long after those words left his lips, the door burst open and knights stormed in.

Sunlight was beginning to creep in beneath the curtains covering the window.

Dawn was breaking.

Surrounded by knights, Haen spoke with a clear voice.

“How dare you attempt to assassinate the Duke? Even as the Count of de Winter, this is an unforgivable crime. Your Grace, please sentence me to a month in prison and claim compensation from me for the damages.”

Hurry up.

In that moment, Lejun caught a glimpse of something hidden behind Haen’s composed expression.

He finally opened his mouth.

“…Imprison Haen de Winter.”

As if entranced, he repeated Haen’s words verbatim.

The moment his sentence ended, the knights seized Haen’s arms and led him away.

Yet, even as he was surrounded and restrained, he obeyed the command without resistance.

* * *