SWY 135

He was talking about the uncle. At Samson’s question, Sharhan’s expression turned cold.

“We’ll take him with us.”

If they left him behind, someone softhearted might set him free. Sharhan didn’t want pity to become a lifeline for that man.

“Understood. Then I’ll–”

“I’ll go.”

“I’ll do it.”

Lestel handed his empty bowl to Ardelle, entered the storehouse, and came back out carrying the uncle over his shoulder like a wild beast caught in a trap. His eyes were red, likely from crying after hearing Sharhan say his son was dead. What now remained in his gaze was fear, terror, despair, and resentment. He let out muffled whimpers as if asking for help, but no one dared to interfere.

“It would’ve been nice if you could rest another day before leaving… It’s a shame to part like this.”

Prompted by Samson’s words, people came over to say goodbye.

“Please be careful.”

“Thank you for saving us. Stay safe.”

“Mister, are you really leaving?”

“Lord Sharhan, Lord Lestel. I’ll recover quickly and catch up to you soon.”

“Take care out there.”

Sharhan and Lestel patted the heads of the villa children who sniffled and wiped their eyes. To the others, they offered only a bow of their heads before mounting Thunder and Lightning.

“Lestel.”

After riding in silence for about an hour, Sharhan called Lestel’s name and brought Lightning to a halt.

“Are you going to do it here?”

Lestel, understanding without needing it explained, pulled the uncle down from Thunder’s back. With a thud, the man hit the ground, his eyes filling with fear.

“Sh-Sharhan! W-what are you planning…? Is my son really dead? You lied, didn’t you? Let me go! I’ll go find him myself!”

Sharhan removed the gag, and the uncle, trembling in fear, began pleading.

“He’s dead.”

“You’re lying! Let me go! W-what are you going to do?!”

Seeing Sharhan step forward, the uncle flinched and started shaking uncontrollably.

“What are you so scared of? You think I’ll kill you here and now?”

“P-please… spare me…”

“If you can bring my parents back to life, I’ll let you live. How about it? Do we have a deal?”

There was no way to bring the dead back, meaning there was no chance Sharhan would spare him.

“Th-that’s nonsense. How can I bring back the dead?!”

“Then the deal’s off. And I have no reason to let you live.”

“Shar-Sharhan, please…”

“I’ll do it.”

As Sharhan reached for his sword, Lestel stepped forward. He spun his bloodstained axe threateningly, as if ready to split the uncle’s skull right then and there.

“No.”

“I’ll–”

“I said no.”

Sharhan stopped him, frowning, then looked down at the uncle. He still harbored a sliver of hope, Sharhan sneered. Then he kicked the tree stump behind the man with full force.

Thud. A deep, echoing sound rumbled through the forest. Understanding his intent, Lestel kicked a tree nearby, adding to the noise.

“Wh-what are you…!”

“You’re not even worth killing. So go ahead and pay for your betrayal alive. Let the dead tear you apart piece by piece. Reflect on your sins in the agony of having your flesh ripped off.”

Soon, the low, rattling moans of the dead echoed through the trees. The sound of corpses drawn by fresh prey. Sharhan waited until the first ones began to appear, then climbed back onto Lightning.

“Let’s go.”

“Shar-Sharhan! No, please! Don’t leave me here!”

Ignoring the desperate screaming behind him, Sharhan sped away. Even as the man shrieked his name at the top of his lungs, Sharhan never looked back. There was not a shred of sorrow or pity in him.

***

“Let’s rest here.”

Lestel pointed toward a cave. Sharhan glanced at the sky to check the time, then silently dismounted. They needed a safe place to spend the night before the sun went down.

He tapped the cave entrance with his sword hilt. A corpse, growling and snarling, lunged out from the dark. Lestel yanked Sharhan’s robe back and swung his axe.

With a thud, the body collapsed, thick brain matter splattering. It had been a woman in her early twenties.

Inside, another corpse struggled to crawl forward. A man with both legs missing and a huge chunk torn from his side. A ring on his dried, clawing fingers matched the one the woman wore. They must have taken refuge together in this cave.

Sharhan drove his sword through the man’s skull and dragged the body out.

Then they gathered what they could to build a fire, twigs, dry leaves, withered brush. Thunder and Lightning were let loose to graze freely.

Lestel started the fire, striking a flint to spark the leaves, then feeding it until the flames roared. The cave soon filled with warmth. Though the floor was cold and damp, the warm air made it bearable for a night’s rest.

Sharhan and Lestel stared into the flickering flames without a word. Neither broke the silence. The air warmed, but the space between them remained cold and stiff.

Not even when they were bitter rivals had they felt so distant. Right now, Lestel felt farther away than ever.

Sharhan glanced at him. Lestel was chewing his lip like he wanted to say something, unsure how to begin.

‘Didn’t you say you’d be shameless?’

When he was being pushy, it was infuriatingly shameless, but now that he was hesitant and cautious, that irritated Sharhan too. He sighed, frustrated with his own wavering feelings, and looked deeper into the cave.

It was wide. The darkness stretched so deep inside that it looked like a gaping monster’s maw, waiting to devour anything that stepped too close.

“Looks like the Ice Cave.”

Startled by the sudden voice, Sharhan turned to see Lestel also gazing into the darkness.

“…Yeah, it does.”

The Ice Cave had also been a place too deep to see the end. Even as kids, they’d never dared to explore the deepest parts, not even with the reckless boldness of childhood. It had been too cold, too terrifying.

“If we’d gone to the end, would we have realized it was a ruin?”

“Probably not. You can’t even get in without the heirloom, apparently.”

“The marquis must be going crazy looking for it.”

Lestel pulled out the brooch. The reason they kept Iris alive and locked up was probably because they thought Sharhan had taken the heirloom. They’d planned to use her to trade once he returned.

Given how desperately they’d been collecting amethysts, it was clear how badly the marquis wanted to access the Ice Cave ruins.

When Sharhan reached for the brooch, Lestel flinched and clutched it tightly, then shoved it deep into his coat as if it were his lifeline. Seeing him protect it that fiercely, Sharhan couldn’t bring himself to demand it back, even though it was his family’s heirloom.

He remembered Lestel saying he survived those three years by holding onto it. Maybe he still thought of it as the last thing connecting them.

“Do you want to eat?”

“Yeah.”

Sharhan didn’t comment on Lestel’s awkward attempt to shift the mood. He just pulled out the food from his pack, boiled potatoes and meat.

The villagers had boiled the meat in plain water for Sharhan and Lestel, leaving it out of the soup pot to preserve it. But it was unseasoned, gamey, and dry, and hard to chew. Still, it was precious food. They had to eat it.

Holding his nose, Sharhan forced it down. After finishing the potatoes and drinking water, he finally felt full.

He tossed more wood on the fire and lay down on the cold cave floor.

After a long while, he felt Lestel carefully lie down behind him. The cold air from the back of the cave was blocked, and warmth slowly reached Sharhan’s back.

Feeling the heat wrap around him, Sharhan spoke impulsively.

“I might kill the marquis. No… I will kill him.”

Now that he knew who murdered his parents, not taking revenge would be a disgrace to them. Once Iris was safe, he would kill the marquis.

“Do it,” Lestel said.