SWY 28

Sharhan’s heart pounded as he instinctively pulled Lestel into a protective embrace and crouched low. The thunderous sound had come from nearby. Staying low and tense, waiting to hear if it would come again, Sharhan finally stood up when all remained quiet. Thankfully, no further sounds followed.

“Grab what we need and get inside, now.”

There was a chance the sound had drawn the moving corpses toward the cabin. Better to avoid running into them.

“W-what was that sound?!”

Derry, gripping the metal rod, dashed out in a panic. Eyes wide, he frantically scanned the area like a squirrel on alert. Sharhan gestured for him to go back inside. Derry hesitated for a moment, knowing full well he wouldn’t be of any help in a fight, then trudged back into the cabin.

Just as Sharhan turned to fetch the firewood, he stiffened. Lestel’s arm was wrapped around him. He could’ve sworn he was the one hugging Lestel earlier, but somehow, their positions had reversed without him noticing. The thought that Derry might’ve seen them made his face flush red.

“Let go! How long are you gonna keep holding me?!”

“Just a little longer. I’m still shaken up. That boom scared me.”

Lestel’s voice was perfectly calm, which made Sharhan even more annoyed.

He moved to shove him off, but stopped.

‘He might actually be trembling inside.’

The sound had shaken him too, after all. His heart had been racing.

Sensing that Sharhan had softened, Lestel tightened his hold, going so far as to press his face into Sharhan’s neck. Sharhan felt the sharp touch of Lestel’s nose, then something warm and wet traced across his skin.

Lestel’s tongue.

“Wh-what the…!”

Too stunned to form full words, Sharhan leapt away, hand clapped to his neck, trembling with shock. Lestel laughed at the sight of him so utterly flustered.

“Sorry. My tongue slipped.”

“You crazy bastard, how the hell does someone accidentally lick someone’s neck?!”

“I didn’t mean to. It just happened. But hey, honey.”

“What?!”

“You act so innocent for someone who said they’ve rolled around in bed. You’re freaking out over one little lick. If that’s how you react to this, you’d probably faint if I kissed you.”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all! Don’t act like you’d be so calm either! And for your information, I’ve kissed plenty. I’m way past the point of getting flustered over that!”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really! I was just startled because I didn’t expect your damn tongue on my neck, okay? If my tongue just accidentally brushed your neck, you’d react the same way!”

“Nope. Not me.”

“Is that so? Then just wait. I’ll get you from behind when you least expect it.”

“Anytime.”

Humming with satisfaction, Lestel scooped up an armful of firewood. Sharhan narrowed his eyes at Lestel’s cheerful, springy steps.

‘Shit, I got goosebumps between my legs.’

When Lestel’s tongue had touched his neck, his thighs had clenched up. It was a reflex, but a very real one. He glanced down, then shook his head.

It was just shock and nerves. A guy’s cock is basically his second heart, right? So it wasn’t weird for it to react during an intense moment. Maybe even stiffen a little.

Sharhan rationalized it away, felt more composed, grabbed a few logs himself, and headed inside. The cabin was pitch dark. Derry had covered not just the windows, but every possible crack where light might leak. He’d even draped a blanket across an entire wall. Sharhan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I covered everything just in case, but now it’s too dark. Should we light the fire?”

“Wait a bit. That noise probably drew the dead toward this area.”

The chimney led smoke up and out through the roof, and since the corpses only reacted to light and sound, a fire should be safe, but Sharhan wanted to be sure before taking the risk.

Derry nodded and sat on the floor. After a while, unable to sit still, he started rummaging through the cabin. Lestel was absentmindedly swinging the axe through the air. Sharhan’s eyes had adjusted enough to see their faint movements in the dark.

“Taking the axe with you?”

“I think it might work better than a sword for fast, strong strikes. It wouldn’t hurt to have a backup weapon.”

Sharhan’s gaze landed on Lestel’s earring. The only three people who knew it was a magical artifact were the ones here.

“Use only the axe from now on.”

It was a long journey to Serman. Who knew what they might encounter along the way? It was best to save their trump cards, like the dagger Sharhan kept hidden at his ankle.

The habit of hiding weapons on his body had begun after Sharhan became a mercenary. It was advice from Abel, hide a weapon because one day it might save your life when you’re cornered.

Lestel didn’t need a long explanation to understand Sharhan’s intent. He simply nodded. Sharhan sat beside him and began cleaning his sword. If he didn’t maintain it regularly, it would rust or dull. Especially when the blade was stained with blood, it had to be wiped thoroughly, or the congealed grime would stick and make it difficult to draw from the sheath.

“Looks like they packed in a hurry. Other than clothes, there’s nothing useful here.”

Derry mumbled in disappointment, having found nothing worthwhile.

“You found clothes? Let me see.”

There were two sets left. The fabric was rough, and the leather vests – designed to wrap around the shoulders and torso – were just as coarse. The boots that reached below the knee felt no different.

They had clearly been tanned and crafted by hand. Still, they looked sturdy. Sharhan picked the better of the two and handed it to Lestel.

“Change into this.”

He offered Lestel the clothes and boots, excluding the robe. The clothes and shoes Lestel currently wore were soft and made of expensive fabric, but they were also delicate. On top of that, he had a brooch made of vivid violet amethyst pinned at his neck, an obvious lure for desperate eyes.

Sharhan had seen many times how good, ordinary people were driven to become bandits in extreme situations during the war. And the first target of a crazed bandit was always a wealthy noble.

Even though Lestel’s clothes were already stained and dirty, his appearance still screamed, I’m rich. This was a good opportunity to do something about that.

“……”

Lestel accepted the clothes with a disgusted expression, as if he were being handed garbage. But he began undressing without protest. Sharhan, who had been bracing himself to persuade him, turned away awkwardly.

How disgusting, Lestel muttered to himself.

The hunter’s clothes were coarse and irritated his skin, but what bothered him more was the fact that they had belonged to another man. Wearing something that had touched some stranger’s body made his stomach turn. Still, Lestel accepted them silently because he could roughly guess why Sharhan had handed them over. Contrary to Sharhan’s concerns, Lestel wasn’t just a naïve aristocrat.

With a face scrunched like he was donning rags, he reluctantly put on the boots and tossed his previous outfit into a corner without hesitation. Only the amethyst brooch he tucked into his pocket before turning away.

That was when he saw Sharhan standing at the window, having pulled back the cloth to peek outside. Lestel slowly looked him over from head to toe. Even in the dim interior, Sharhan stood out vividly.

His already well-built body had grown even sturdier during his mercenary years. His shoulders were broad, his waist slender, and his round, lifted buttocks looked like they’d spring back if grabbed. His long legs were flawless. A tight ache surged between Lestel’s thighs. The pants, which had been baggy – perhaps because the hunter had been heavier – now felt tight. Lestel clicked his tongue.

Even as he tried to force down his arousal, Sharhan remained completely focused on checking outside. He stood like a loyal knight guarding his lady, shouldering a weighty sense of responsibility.

Lestel knew this whole horrific ordeal must be uncomfortable and frightening for Sharhan too, but he was doing his best not to show it. The only time he’d slipped was when he worried about Iris.

Pretending to be brave in front of me… same as always.

Sharhan had taken the lead the entire time, constantly scanning their surroundings. When the moving corpses appeared, he was always the first to rush in. He never forgot to say, “Stay right behind me.” Not because they were bound by a contract, those words came naturally. Even when they were kids, Sharhan had feigned calm in front of Lestel while shaking inside.

He cried when he saw that stray dog, too.

There had been a time when a wild dog, hardened by life in the wild and almost wolf-like, appeared in the forest where they used to play. It had just given birth and was in a particularly sensitive state. Young Sharhan, terrified, burst into tears. But when Lestel ran over, he wiped his tears away and shouted, “Hey! Hide behind me!” like he hadn’t been scared at all.

Back then, Lestel had pretended to cry just so Sharhan would act like a protector. They fought nine out of ten times they met, but whenever Lestel acted weak, Sharhan would puff up and try to shield him, it was so adorable.

He’ll never know I was faking it. But when the dog really chased us, we both cried for real.

They hadn’t fought bravely that day. For two little boys, facing a wild dog protecting her pups was too much. Sharhan threw a rock to distract it, grabbed Lestel’s hand, and ran for their lives. A knight from the Ailun family had rescued them, finding the two kids sniffling and stumbling around. Sharhan had refused the knight’s offer to escort him home, walking back alone with firm steps. His back then looked just like it did now.

Lestel used the darkness as an excuse to gaze at Sharhan as much as he wanted. That back, always there to protect him, was reassuring. And at the same time, his heart ached, burdened by a secret he never wanted to reveal.