A few more days passed. While Murphy was recovering, he heard from Hank that two more grooms had struggled their way back to the castle from the Twilight Mountain Range.
One was an old groom named Sic, and the other was a younger groom named Carl.
Their condition was said to be even more pitiful than Murphy's had been. Old Sic had eaten something bad while fleeing and was now so thin he was just skin and bones. He didn't even have the strength to stand and could only lie on his straw mat all day.
And while Carl was conscious and could move, his right arm was severely fractured. It was crudely splinted with branches and cloth strips, and he broke out in a cold sweat from the pain with every step.
Their return also provided the castle with some fresh gossip.
People marveled at their luck but also pitied their plight.
With Hank's help, Murphy first went to visit Carl.
The young groom was leaning against a straw mat, his right arm re-splinted with a few wooden boards tied on with coarse cloth strips. His face was unnaturally pale.
"We got separated in the forest," Carl said, his voice weak. "I hid in a hollow tree for two whole days before I dared to come out..."
Murphy listened to his story and quietly comforted him, telling him to focus on getting well.
Then he went to see Old Sic.
The old groom's condition was even worse. His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones jutted out, and he lay on his straw mat without even the strength to speak.
When Murphy approached, Old Sic just twitched a finger, a faint whimper escaping his throat.
Given the medical technology of this era, he probably wouldn't last much longer.
This couldn't help but stir a sense of shared misfortune within Murphy.
However, the peace was soon shattered.
The news first came from the stables, laced with incredible shock and fear.
"Did you hear? That Carl... he, he stole something!"
"Stole something? What could a groom possibly steal?"
"Not just some ordinary thing!" The person spreading the news lowered their voice, but couldn't hide the mix of excitement and terror. "It was a badge that the follower, Jimmy, kept hidden on his person! Silver, with a small Sapphire set in it! Lord Kelvin interrogated it out of him!"
When Murphy heard this, his heart sank.
Jimmy. That was the follower who had been shot in the head and killed at the very beginning.
The rumor spread like wildfire through the lower levels of the castle.
The details grew clearer. The badge was apparently a family heirloom that Old Jimmy had passed down to Jimmy, and it held immense significance.
When Jimmy was shot in the head and the enemy attacked, Carl was suddenly overcome with greed. He had rifled through Jimmy's corpse and secretly hidden the badge.
Perhaps he thought that in such a chaotic situation, no one would notice a small badge, and that this piece of precious metal and gemstone would be enough to earn him a small fortune.
Carl had underestimated the methods of the nobles and Knights.
Under the sharp gaze of Hawkeye Kelvin, Carl revealed a flaw in his story and was forcibly taken away for interrogation.
The interrogation took place in the dungeons; no one knew the specific details.
But according to a Guard from the dungeons, who slurred his words after a few drinks, Carl had been beaten black and blue, with all ten of his fingers crushed.
He had been clever enough to bury the badge outside, but under severe torture, he finally revealed its hiding place.
Attendant Old Jimmy personally led a group to dig and, sure enough, found the family badge right where Carl had said it would be.
The sentence came swiftly.
Stealing a follower's relic, especially at such a sensitive time, was not just theft. It was a grave provocation against the dignity of the Knights and the entire noble system.
...
At noon, Murphy was leaning against the window, breathing in the sunlight and feeling the faint circulation of "Qi" within his body, when an unusual commotion arose from outside.
He pushed open the small window and saw a squad of fully armed Guards escorting a figure toward the main gate of the stable area.
The figure was hunched over, almost being dragged forward. A broken arm wrapped in filthy rags peeked out from under tattered clothes, and his face was covered in purple bruises and dried blood.
It was Carl.
In the open ground before the castle gate, a gallows had already been erected.
Many servants and soldiers were ordered to come and watch. Carl being paraded to the stable area had been a form of notice, meant to serve as a warning to others.
Murphy was naturally in the crowd as well. He saw that even Old Sic, who was paralyzed in bed and unable to move, had been brought on a stretcher by two soldiers to be forced to witness the execution.
Carl seemed to have completely lost his wits. He didn't struggle or beg for mercy, just stared blankly at the gray sky.
Old Jimmy stood before the gallows, his voice cold and imposing. "This lowly groom dared to desecrate the relic of a Knight's follower! Jimmy's badge represents the honor of our family. How could a peasant like this dare to touch it? He is to be hanged today so that everyone understands the consequences of offending the dignity of a follower!"
As the noose was placed around his neck, Murphy watched closely, searing the scene into his memory.
Then he saw Carl's body twitch slightly in the air. The light slowly faded from his vacant eyes until they were completely empty.
Like a broken doll, swaying gently in the wind.
Most of the surrounding servants wore gloating expressions, chattering amongst themselves.
"Serves him right! A groom daring to steal from his betters!"
"Exactly! He should have known his place!"
"Someone like him who doesn't know the rules was just asking to die!"
The body hung there for a full day, only taken down after nightfall.
No one in the castle could ignore the gruesome sight, yet everyone seemed accustomed to it, as if it were just another ordinary scene in castle life.
Afterward, Murphy returned to his room and silently closed the window, plunging the room into complete darkness.
His heart beat steadily in the darkness, not with excessive fear, but with a cold tranquility.
He thought of the bag of Gold Coins and Silver Coins belonging to Tommy Han that he had buried outside New Forest Town.
At the time, he had done it merely out of caution, not wanting to carry too many traces of things that didn't belong to him.
'It seems that wasn't enough,' he thought. 'Without Breathing and Guiding to alter my breathing and heartbeat, I wouldn't be able to hide any plans under Kelvin's Hawkeye.'
'Breathing and Guiding?'
He gently touched his external wounds, feeling the new, vibrant power already active beneath his skin.
He reaffirmed his chosen Path.
Hide, Cultivate, wait.
Until he possessed enough power to truly control his own destiny, he absolutely could not make a single misstep.
Carl's fate was the best possible warning for him.
...
Another week passed, and no more grooms returned from the Twilight Mountain Range.
Life had to go on, and the somber atmosphere that had enveloped the castle gradually dissipated.
Someone saw the Lady Baron smiling in the garden for the first time in a long while. It was also said that Attendant Old Jimmy had found a new lover and was often seen laughing and chatting with a young woman in the tavern.
As for Murphy?
Although there had been rumors that Murphy and Hank would be assigned to the public stables, the official transfer never came. Only Bart was sent there.
After Murphy's injuries "gradually improved," he returned to work in the stables.
But things were very different now.
Yor's warhorse was lost forever in the Twilight Mountain Range, so he and Hank no longer had an exclusive mount to care for. They could only do odd jobs.
The high-quality oats, plump soybeans, and dried fish—warhorse feed from which they could have reasonably skimmed a little—were now out of their reach.
One afternoon, Murphy was pushing a cart of hay across the castle's rear courtyard.
He happened to run into Tom, Jack, and Will, who were washing laundry.
The moment the three servants saw him, their hands involuntarily paused.
Tom was the first to react. He quickly stood up and said, a bit awkwardly, "Murphy."
He hadn't wanted to greet him, but Murphy was a groom, after all, a station above low-ranking servants like them.
Having lived in the castle for so long, Tom understood the ways of the world and knew the importance of maintaining superficial relationships.
Jack and Will hurriedly greeted him as well, their eyes flickering, not daring to look directly at Murphy.
Murphy gave a faint nod and kept going, pushing his hay cart without stopping.
He could feel three pairs of eyes following him closely from behind.
He paid them no mind, however.
Only after he was some distance away did Will lower his voice, a hint of resentment in his tone. "Look at him, acting like he's somebody important."
Jack glanced around warily to make sure no one was listening before chiming in. "What's he so smug about? I heard Lord Yor's legs are crippled. His Path as a Knight is over. He and Hank are about to be sent to the public stables. Let's see how high and mighty he acts then!"
"Exactly," Tom said with a sneer. "Once he's in the public stables, let's see if he can still..."
Before he could finish, all three of them suddenly fell silent, their gazes turning in unison toward the castle gate.
Not long ago, they had witnessed Carl's hanging with their own eyes.
The young groom who had stolen the badge had had all ten of his fingers crushed during his interrogation. Covered in wounds, he had ended up hanging from the gallows like a rag doll, swaying there for a full day.
Will unconsciously touched his own neck, his voice turning hoarse. "We... we should probably keep our mouths shut."
Jack swallowed nervously. "Carl only stole a badge and ended up like that. If someone heard us bad-mouthing..."
The three exchanged glances, seeing the fear in each other's eyes.
In the castle, gossiping about a Knight—even a crippled one—was a serious offense.
Tom was the first to snap out of it. He deliberately raised his voice, "We haven't finished today's laundry yet. We need to hurry."
The other two took the hint and immediately buried their heads in their work, scrubbing furiously as if nothing had happened.
But their trembling hands and pale faces betrayed their inner fear.
This scene happened to be witnessed by a passing Steward.
He stopped, his stern gaze sweeping over the three servants. "What are you doing? Working so slowly! If you don't finish your work today, none of you will eat!"
"Y-yes, Lord Steward."
The three answered in unison, their hands moving even more frantically.
At dusk, Murphy went to the well to fetch water as usual.
There, he ran into Bart, who was also fetching water.
The groom who had been transferred to the public stables looked much more haggard.
Murphy asked, "How are things at the public stables?"
Bart shook his head with a bitter smile. "I have to care for six or seven horses a day, but the pay is only half what it used to be. And no matter how well you care for those draft horses, they'll never be as sleek and shiny as a warhorse."
He glanced at Murphy with envy. "You guys, on the other hand... even though Lord Yor's legs are injured, he still managed to keep you in the main stables."
Murphy shook his head slightly. "I don't know anything about that."
He paused for a moment before offering some comfort. "There will be more warhorses in the future. With your experience, you'll definitely get to care for them."
Bart understood Murphy's implication. The castle had suffered heavy losses, and the Lord Baron would sooner or later recruit new followers. It was just something that couldn't be said openly.
"I hope so, but the Northern Trade Route..."
He sighed at this point. "But none of them are as capable as Lord Yor."
Then, the next morning, as Murphy was cleaning the stables, he saw that very same capable Lord Yor.