I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 79

After the wardrobe door shut, Enoch had counted to one hundred fifty.

From the quiet outside, sudden screams broke out. Men and women alike cried out sharply, their voices filled with pain and terror, as if they were being attacked.

Wrapped tightly in blankets, Enoch couldn’t see what was happening. His nurse had warned him not to move too much, not even to shift his weight enough to make the wardrobe shake. Remembering her words, he stayed as still as he could.

Bang!

A loud crash echoed through the room. Whatever had hit the door sent vibrations all the way into the wardrobe where Enoch was hiding.

Gasp!

Startled, he nearly let out a hiccup, something that often escaped him when nervous.

But he forced himself to stay quiet. If he hiccupped now, he would forget that he had already counted to five hundred, and he didn’t want to lose track.

Bang!

Another loud crash. This time, the wardrobe door cracked open just slightly. A sudden shaft of light startled the boy, making him blink several times.

As his eyes adjusted, he peered through the narrow gap.

Everything beyond the wardrobe door was red.

Enoch had decorated his study in his favorite color, blue. So why was everything outside glowing red?

Then, beyond the shape that had been banging on the wardrobe, blood sprayed.

A few droplets spattered through the gap and struck his eye, bringing with it a burning, stinging pain.

“Agh!”

It felt like his eye was on fire. He desperately wanted to wipe the sticky, hot feeling away.

But he didn’t dare make a sound.

Not just because the nurse had told him to stay quiet. At seven years old, he already understood enough of the world to grasp what was happening.

Enoch kept counting, trembling.

He reached five thousand, then six thousand, then seven. Still, the screaming and chaos outside didn’t stop.

Pretending he had lost count, he started again from one.

Only when complete silence finally settled over the manor did the boy muster the courage to come out.

The nurse who had held him gently just moments before now lay still, her eyes peacefully shut, as if sleeping. Her son, who had been clutching her hand, was motionless beside her.

Out in the hallway, he saw his family. Their eyes were wide open.

Relieved, thinking they were still alive, Enoch ran to them.

But they weren’t alive. Their eyes were open, but they had not awakened.

“Mother, Father… Brother, Sister. Please, someone answer me. The nurse won’t wake up. The knights won’t wake up either…”

Crying, he clung to them, desperate to believe it was all just a bad dream.

He was still young, but old enough to understand what death meant.

“Why won’t you wake up? Why won’t you say anything? Why… why aren’t you breathing?”

But accepting death was something he wasn’t ready for.

So he kept calling to them, over and over, denying what he saw.

Only when he saw insects crawling over their lifeless eyes, only when the stench filled his nose, did he realize what he was holding.

They weren’t his family anymore.

They were bodies.

With a terrified scream, he dropped them.

That was when he knew. The people he loved were gone.

He ran, through the hallways and past the corridors. No one stopped him, not a single servant. Not a single voice told him not to run, not to shout.

He knew instinctively that going out the front gate was dangerous.

So, he turned and ran into the woods instead.

Snow swallowed his feet with every step, but he didn’t care. He just kept going.

Where should I go?

He asked himself again and again as he ran through the silent, snow-covered forest. He didn’t stop, even when his feet went numb.

Eventually, he came to a small harbor town.

Yes, here. I’ll ask for help here.

I’ll tell them my family was murdered. That everything I loved was burned to the ground. That I have nowhere else to go.

I’ll ask them to catch the ones who did this. I’ll beg them to punish the killers.

And I’ll ask them to let me stay.

Enoch had barely regained a spark of hope, driven by his desire to punish the ones who had destroyed his family. Despite his blistered and swollen feet, he walked with determination.

But no one listened to him.

To the busy townspeople rushing to their jobs, the ragged boy’s words seemed no different than a beggar pleading for money. His courage looked like desperation to them.

When Enoch realized no one would stop and listen, he began to cry quietly as he wandered through the streets.

“Is there really no one who will help me?”

He sniffled as he rested in the corner of an alley. A few homeless men nearby were reading newspapers. One older man, frowning as he read, suddenly shook his head and raised his voice.

“What could the great Callete family possibly have lacked to commit treason? It’s disgraceful.”

He clicked his tongue and tossed the newspaper into a trash bin.

Enoch, hearing the familiar name, rummaged through the trash to retrieve the paper. It was the front page of the kingdom’s most well-known publication. The headline screamed the downfall of his family.

“The Final End of House Callete, Accused of Treason.”

Labeled as traitors.

“Treason? That’s not true.”

Enoch cried out, staring into the sky as if searching for something to make sense of it.

Treason was evil. His tutor had told him many times that betraying the ruler was as unforgivable as defying the gods. He could not believe that his family, the people who raised him with love and honor, could commit such a shameful crime.

There had to be a mistake. Maybe someone had framed them.

He made up his mind.

Now that everyone from House Callete was gone, he would be the one to reveal the truth. He couldn’t let his family’s name be buried with lies. It was already painful enough that they were gone. But to be remembered as criminals was too much to bear.

Three days later, he arrived in the Letius Empire.

His next destination was the imperial palace.

He stood in front of the palace gates, watching the guards closely. His clothes were filthy, his body thin and trembling, and the knights stationed at the entrance eyed him suspiciously.

It was clear they wouldn’t let him in just because he asked.

He pretended to walk away, then quietly hid behind a large tree nearby.

He waited there until the sky shifted from bright day to burning sunset, then faded into black night.

He saw the guards starting to nod off. He knew he wouldn’t make it far, but even a few seconds might be enough.

He ran.

When the knights reached out to stop him, he shoved past them and forced his way through the gates. He ran as fast as he could, dodging hands and shouts behind him.

Eventually, he was cornered.

The boy was surrounded by armored guards. They looked like solid walls of steel. Enoch, still small and weak, had no way through them.

He was grabbed and thrown to the floor.

Unexpectedly, he was brought directly before the emperor.

On his knees, breathless and trembling, Enoch heard the emperor and the knights discussing what to do with him. They were deciding what punishment he deserved for trespassing into the palace.

His chest was tight from being held down. It felt like his lungs would burst.

Panting, crying, he looked up with a strained expression.

The emperor was staring down at him with cold eyes. Enoch saw something in that gaze. It reminded him of the lessons his family once taught him. In that moment, he realized what kind of fate was waiting for him.

“Please, Your Majesty. I need your help.”

His voice trembled as he shouted. He couldn’t die. Not like this. He had to live. He had to clear his family’s name. He had to prove that they had been innocent.

“I am Enoch Callete, the youngest and only surviving son of House Callete. My family was destroyed by a false accusation of treason. Please, help me. Please, save me from this injustice.”

He emphasized the words “false” and “injustice,” hoping they would mean something to the emperor. A true ruler should understand the pain of the weak and defend them.

But the emperor’s face remained unmoved. He looked down at Enoch as if to say, “So what?”

The emperor raised his hand and told the knights to be silent. Then he resumed his conversation, still deciding how the boy should be punished.

Realizing the danger, Enoch screamed once more.

“I will be your dog.”

He couldn’t be thrown out. He had to hold onto this last chance. He needed a foothold for revenge, no matter how humiliating.

“I will serve you. I will do anything. Just please, use me. Let me be the dog of the emperor.”

He would survive. Even if it meant becoming a dog.

Letius Emperor XXIV found the boy’s proposal amusing.

But nothing in this world came without a price. So, the emperor gave Enoch a condition.

If he wanted to prove his worth, he would have to fight. Before turning thirteen, he would need to enter the fighting pits and win first place against the other boys.

The fighting pits. They were exactly what the name suggested. A place where fighters were treated like dogs.

Enoch didn’t understand it fully. But blinded by the need for revenge, he agreed.

The next day, he was sent not to a prison, but to a place even dirtier, darker, and more violent.

Support