HEO 7

The face beneath the black robe was concealed by a hood. The figure was smaller than Red Eagle. Though small for a Stoll, if he was the wolf man’s companion, he couldn’t be ordinary. In any case, he had to seize this moment to quickly take the prince and flee…

The men surrounded the wolf man and shouted toward them.

“We’ll handle this! You guys take care of the prince!”

Once again, weapons whipped toward Wolf. There was no time to flee.

“Die!”

Four men thrust their weapons forward simultaneously.

“Wolf!”

Red Eagle howled and clutched Wolf’s leg tightly. The latter closed his eyes.

I don’t want to die! But I probably will.

…….

…….

This is strange.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Did my head fly off too fast to feel the pain? But the feel of that prince’s forearm gripping my leg is vividly real…

Could it be… I’m not dead yet?

Wolf opened his eyes slightly. Far away, the wolf man was tangled in a fight with several others. Clang, clang, clang, the clashes of axes, swords, and spears rang out.

The wolf man swung his axe and shouted at his comrade.

[Silver! Dammit, what are you doing! Help me!]

[I did. The rest is up to you, Bingapsu (Hard shelled beast).]

The black-robed figure waved a hand dismissively and moved on. The attackers, already overwhelmed dealing with the wolf man, lacked the strength to challenge the black-robed figure as well. Wolf looked down. Four men who had charged toward them lay sprawled out together. Each had a dagger lodged in the back of their neck.

The black-robed figure’s doing? How from that distance…

The black-robed figure approached. The face hidden beneath the hood was obscured by the backlight.

The dagger thrower was indeed the black-robed figure. While the thick cloaks and garments of others fluttered like linen handkerchiefs in the fierce wind, the black robe only stirred slightly at the hem. Probably because multiple daggers were sheathed inside the robe, making it heavy.

As the black robe drew nearer, Wolf grew dazed. The darkness beneath the hood gradually faded, revealing that face…

It was a youth. Platinum blonde. Eyes the color of Alice blue. A ring-shaped tattoo stretched long from above his right eye to the center of his cheek. His face was cold and sharp, like a honed blade. Yet, the very instant that blade sliced through his retina, Wolf’s body burned hot. It felt as though someone had poured oil inside him and lit a fire.

Why… am I like this?

The boy stopped before the corpses. About three or four steps away. His Alice blue eyes, which had been sweeping the surroundings like a broom, came to rest on Wolf’s face.

Their eyes met.

He didn’t look away.

He stared.

Wolf endured the awkward feeling and met the boy’s gaze. Even after a long moment, his eyes didn’t drop. It felt like his face was being soaked in Alice blue paint. Finally, Wolf twisted his head first to avoid his eyes.

Why is he staring like that? Is it because there’s so much blood on my face?

Was this strange feeling akin to when the sun wouldn’t rise even after noon? The moment the boy’s face entered his vision, an indescribable sensation took hold of Wolf’s body. It wasn’t heat, energy, or a shiver. It was too bizarre, like a black moon, to even find a name for.

The changes occurring within his body weren’t limited to that. Dizziness. A pounding heart. A brain whose thought processes had ceased. It felt as if he were under a spell.

He had no idea how much time had passed. Wolf kept his head turned, only his eyes moving, sending hesitant glances toward the boy. The boy was still staring at Wolf.

Wolf quickly lowered his eyes. It was all questions, from start to finish. Why he’d wondered if the boy was still looking this way. Why he’d insisted, stubbornly, on turning his own eyes to check. Why he’d been swept by such relief the moment he confirmed the boy’s gaze remained fixed on him… Could it be the boy felt the same? Did he want me to look at him?

Stop it. What stupid thoughts are you having?

Finally, the boy withdrew his gaze from Wolf. He bent down and slowly pulled out each dagger stuck in the men’s necks, one by one. His hand movements were indifferent, as if he were pulling carrots from a garden.

Blood trickled down the blades. The boy wiped the daggers on his forearm cuffs before tucking them inside his robe. As Wolf had guessed, several daggers were secured within the robe’s lining. He also wore a sword at his waist. Unusually, it was about a third shorter than a standard blade.

Only then did Wolf’s entire body shiver. As beautiful as a fairy-tale spirit, the boy was a killer. He belonged to a world different from this one… the so-called world of adventure.

The boy raised his face after drawing and wiping the fourth dagger.

“Hmm…”

He tilted his head slightly. The dagger pointed at Wolf.

“You. Are you Brown Goose Prince?”

“Huh? What?”

Stunned, Wolf asked back. The boy frowned and repeated.

“You. Are you Purple Hen Prince?”

Wolf gasped. The pronunciation might be awkward, but the boy’s words were the common language of Atania.

“You know our language? Are you from Atania?”

“Me? Can’t you see this?”

The boy snorted and pointed to the tattoo near his eye with his dagger. Wolf’s face turned red, and he slumped his shoulders.

“Hey. Can you hear people talking? Are you White Rooster Prince.”

“……I’m not a prince. And the prince’s name is Red Eagle. Your Highness, are you all right?”

Wolf helped Red Eagle to his feet. Red Eagle stared blankly, looking only at his own feet. The boy pointed his dagger at Wolf again.

“Fine, forget about Prince Red Dove. What are you?”

“I’m his attendant. But why do you keep mispronouncing the prince’s name?”

“Because it’s fucking hard, you bastard. In Stoll, it’s Neador. Six fucking letters. You get confused too, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Actually, I get confused a lot.”

Wolf played along with the boy. He didn’t know who he was, but he was the savior who’d rescued them.

“Hmph. Who cares what the name is. You can fight, right?”

“No.”

“Don’t bullshit me, bastard. I saw everything. You have keen eyes.”

The boy’s tone was as rough as a corpse cart driver’s. Wolf waved a hand.

“No, I really can’t fight. Earlier was just luck. But who’s that warrior over there?”

He asked the most urgent question first. The boy tapped his own cheek with his dagger.

“Didn’t you hear the guy whose skull flew off? The prince’s mom hired Bingapsu as a bodyguard. She paid him a mountain of gold coins.”

“Bingapsu? That warrior over there?”

Wolf pointed at the wolf man. The wolf man had already finished off all his opponents and was now wiping the blood off his axe.

“He took down that many people alone. That’s amazing. What’s his name? Ah, is Bingapsu his real name?”

“No. It’s a nickname I gave him. That bastard’s name is…”

The boy paused, staring blankly into space for a moment before shrugging.

“Well, it’s probably more than four characters. I just call him Bingapsu.”

The entire Stoll might be like this, but the boy seemed to have a poor memory. At the very least, his memory was definitely bad. Wolf grabbed Red Eagle’s shoulder and shook him.

“Did you hear that, Your Highness? Our reliable bodyguard is protecting us.”

“Ah, yes.”

Red Eagle nodded blankly, still looking dazed. The boy, who had been looking back and forth between Wolf and Red Eagle, suddenly burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! Ha ha! Puhahaha!”

“Why are you laughing?”

Wolf asked, stunned. The boy mimed drawing a straight line across his own forehead with a dagger.

“Your bangs. They’re fucking hilarious. Only snot-nosed kids wear their hair like that around here.”

“What?”

Wolf bristled. To his eye, the boy’s hairstyle made him look like a beggar in front of a plaza statue. Though only his messy bangs were visible beneath his pulled-down hood, that alone was enough to earn him warnings from Atania mothers: “Stay away from boys like that.”

“We’re Atania people! All Atania boys wear hair! Don’t you dare mock…”

“You and the prince are Stolls.”

The boy interrupted Wolf. The latter faltered, he raised his voice.

“No! The Prince is a Stoll, but I’m an Atanian.”

“You’re joking. You’re obviously a Stoll at a glance? Your features alone make you a typical Stoll man.”