SWY 129

It was Randall who kicked the dazed Alfredo and asked the question. In his arms was his son Ian, who now held tightly onto Samson’s hand.

“Sha-Sharhan! Alec! Save Alec! He should be outside… th-the corpses, they’re outside now, but Alec… Alec is still out there! He only listened to them because of me! He was with some of Katun’s people… please, he’s my only son!”

His uncle, who hadn’t grasped the situation in the chaos of Sharhan’s sudden appearance, turned pale as he finally noticed the uproar outside. Still bound, he wriggled and squirmed in desperation, crawling toward Sharhan as he pleaded.

But Sharhan looked away coldly. There was no reason to listen to anything his uncle had to say.

“Sharhan! Please… Alec is your brother!”

“My only sibling is Iris.”

“Should I shut him up?”

Samson, glancing between Sharhan and his uncle while quietly weighing their relationship, asked calmly. When Sharhan gave a slight nod, Samson picked up a rope from the floor and gagged the man.

His uncle now glared at Sharhan with a muffled mmph, but Sharhan ignored him.

‘So they really were people from Katun.’

He had suspected it after seeing the man who had recognized him the day he ran into Ardelle. It all fit now.

But he hadn’t seen Alec that day. If Alec had been with Katun survivors, then maybe the reason Sharhan hadn’t seen him… was because he was already dead.

It was only a guess, but even if it were true, Sharhan felt no sympathy.

“Why did you take the children?!”

Randall demanded again. Alfredo could only sob and mutter, “Gary.” Randall, eyes blazing, punched him hard in the jaw. Alfredo collapsed sideways, then staggered back up and glared at him with fury in his eyes.

“I’ll kill all of you! My son Gary died because of you bastards! My poor boy… he’s probably out there still waiting for me.”

Alfredo stood up suddenly. Blood still poured from the cut on his thigh, but it was as if he no longer felt the pain. He charged at Randall with murderous intent.

But of course, Randall wasn’t about to let himself get hurt. He beat Alfredo like a madman, kicking, punching, mercilessly.

Wham! Crack! The sound of fists and boots echoed through the storehouse, and blood splattered. Ardelle gently comforted the frightened children, whispering, “Close your eyes, cover your ears.”

Alfredo did manage to fight back a little, landing a few blows on Randall. As Sharhan prepared to step in, Samson handed Ian to Ardelle and jumped into the fight.

The two brothers let out the rage they had bottled up over nearly losing their son and nephew. But Alfredo, who had ruled through cruelty and force, wasn’t a weak opponent. He resisted fiercely, but with his battered body, he couldn’t last against the fury of the brothers.

Eventually, he collapsed, bloodied and gasping. Randall and Samson were both covered in bruises. Randall wiped his bleeding lips on his sleeve and asked again,

“I’ll ask one last time. Why did you take the children?!”

“For emergency rations for my son!”

Alfredo grinned as he answered. There was no trace of guilt on his face. Furious murmurs rippled through the people around them. Randall and Samson’s faces burned as red as flames.

“You sick bastard!”

“My son was hungry, so I brought him food! What father wouldn’t feed his child?! I have no shame! He’s only five years old! He can’t stand being hungry!”

“You lunatic! So when you kidnapped the children, you traded them for food?!”

“Of course! If you want people to obey, you just give them what they want!”

“You’re the kind of trash no one can ever forgive.”

“Trash?! As long as I control the food, I am king! I am nobility! In times like these, food is power! Sir Nine was the fool for trying to share it! Gary, my boy… he must be starving. I need to go and feed him…”

Sir Nine, that was the name of the knight Alfredo once served.

“Die!”

The voice was Goran’s. He charged at Alfredo with a blade in both hands, who knows where he got them, and stabbed him straight through the chest.

Alfredo coughed up a mouthful of blood but still smiled grotesquely. He glanced around as if memorizing the faces of those who had tormented him, ready to drag them down to hell with him.

Then, with one final spurt of blood, he collapsed and died.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it in.”

Goran panted, bowing his head. But no one blamed him. No one had intended to let Alfredo live anyway. Samson patted Goran’s shoulder, then returned to Ian.

“Is he… dead?”

“Yes.”

When Randall confirmed it, people began gathering around Alfredo’s corpse, clenching their teeth and kicking it.

“Serves you right!”

“He died too easily! He should’ve been torn apart by those things outside!”

Leaving the others to vent their rage on the body, Sharhan returned to Derry.

Ardelle and the children had gathered around him, checking on each other.

Lestel came over too, but stayed a step away. He didn’t come any closer. That subtle distance felt both uncomfortable and infuriating.

‘Why are you suddenly watching how I react? Why aren’t you clinging like you always do?!’

Sharhan didn’t know what the emotion burning in his chest was, a mix of sorrow, frustration, and aching heat.

“Mister, you’re scary…”

One of the kids flinched at the hard look on Sharhan’s face. Sharhan forced himself to smile and gently patted the child’s head.

The noise outside had begun to fade. Alfredo’s men had likely scattered, fleeing from the corpses. But the smell of burning was starting to seep through the storehouse cracks, and that was worrying.

“Doesn’t the burning smell seem stronger? Did the fire spread? I used oil from the animals we hunted to start it… I think it burned more than expected.”

“When I saw it just before coming inside, it seemed mostly under control.”

Even so, Randall’s face turned pale as he moved toward the door.

“The fire must have spread! The wall is hot!”

Others hurried over. When they touched the wall, it was indeed burning hot.

“If the fire spread, what do we do?!”

“The storehouse is made of wood. It won’t last long.”

“We should go outside and check.”

“I’ll go first,” Randall said. He took a deep breath and carefully opened the door. Sharhan and Lestel followed behind.

There were no survivors. As expected, anyone still alive had fled. Some corpses were eating people, others wandered dazed near the dying flames of the quarters.

“A corpse… it’s on fire.”

One of the burning corpses had collapsed against the storehouse wall. The flames scorched the wood in the shape of its body, if left alone, the fire would soon spread to the entire building.

“I’ll deal with that thing. Please take care of the rest.”

Randall walked toward the corpse pressed against the wall. Sharhan turned around to see Lestel, Samson, and Ardelle approaching. Without a word, the four of them began dispatching the remaining corpses.

Including the ones Goran had lured and those drawn by the noise, there were more than ten, but they handled them quickly by dividing up.

After Randall finished off the one on the wall, he extinguished the fire.

“Can we… come out?”

Peeking through the door, Peter asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

At Sharhan’s answer, Peter slowly stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air was mixed with ash and surrounded by corpses, but the boy looked relieved, breathing deeply again and again.

The others followed, hesitantly, but tears welled in their eyes at the sight of the open sky. Corpses might come again, but for now, no one stopped them.

Soaking in the cold dawn air, they savored their freedom, until the chill drove them shivering back inside. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours yet, and the wind was harsh.

“Not going in?”

It was Randall who asked Sharhan, who stood still, watching the smoldering ruins.

“You go ahead.”

“Be careful. I won’t lock the door, so come in whenever you need to.”

Randall didn’t press further. He just nodded, holding Ian close, and returned inside.

Now, only Sharhan and Lestel remained outside.

Though they felt each other’s presence clearly, neither spoke. The silence was so heavy it pressed against the chest.

Lestel, who stood two steps away, suddenly moved as if someone had nudged him and stepped closer.

Even then, Sharhan didn’t look at him. He just stared at the remains of the quarters, charred black, flickering with dying embers, just like his heart.

After another long silence, Sharhan finally asked.

“You… knew?”