< 78. Mutual Desires >
*
Fernandez fixed his gaze on the cup of water Abel had handed him, slightly pulling his chair back as he sat down. Abel sat across from him, tilting her head curiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“…What do you mean?”
“Did a bug fall into your cup or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“…Hmm?”
Abel shrugged her shoulders and tapped the table lightly, trying to catch Fernandez’s attention. But he was still staring intently at the water in the cup.
Abel brushed her bangs aside and looked at his dark, sunken eyes. What’s he up to?
“When are you going to start talking?”
“…You ask first.”
“Why aren’t you looking at me?”
“Is that your question?”
“It’s an important one.”
Fernandez slowly raised his head at her words… but when he saw Abel with her arms crossed, he naturally shifted his gaze to the spear. Looking at her face made his heart race, and when he awkwardly lowered his gaze, his eyes landed on the soft flesh pressed by her arm.
‘Damn it.’
-Please act your age. Be mature.
‘You do it.’
-When I was in that situation in my past life, I had a son.
‘Damn it. Faijashi.’
Fernandez thought his soul was utterly useless. Faijashi, who only seemed to laugh and make lewd jokes to torment him, and the fragments of King Dane, who kept whispering to wipe Abel’s sweat and say something warm.
“I’m right here, Fernandez.”
-Swish.
Abel’s white hand waved in front of his eyes. Fernandez was startled and looked at her. She glared at him with a pout, her bangs hanging down.
“What on earth have you been thinking about lately?”
“How’s your spiritual energy?”
“…What?”
“After transforming into a dragon in Altberth, you must have taken some damage. Are you still doing alright?”
Caught off guard by his unexpected question, Abel hesitated before answering.
“I’ll be fine for the next hundred years or so. And a hundred years is enough, isn’t it? Humans live that long anyway, so I might as well think of myself as human now.”
Abel smiled softly as she spoke, looking at Fernandez with a teasing glint in her eyes, like she was playing with a child.
“Were you worried about me? Hehe, Fernandez.”
-Screech.
As Abel pulled her chair slightly closer, Fernandez moved back exactly the same distance. It was a Diemonica-like sense of space. And Abel, with her dragon’s perception, noticed that he had moved away without even a fraction of an inch of error.
“…Why are you moving away?”
“We were already this far apart.”
Well, they were. Abel looked at Fernandez, who was avoiding her gaze. Despite his decline, the aura of a soul that had reached demi-god status allowed her to quickly grasp the atmosphere around him—or rather, the atmosphere of his soul.
It felt oddly familiar. Just as she was about to speak, Fernandez quickly cut her off.
“Um, Abel. Have you ever heard of the desert or the Great Wilderness?”
“Rumors, yes.”
Abel frowned slightly. Fernandez quickly pulled out a letter from his pocket. It was sealed with the Empire’s wax seal.
“I’ve been invited there. Will you come with me?”
“…Hmph. You sly thing.”
Abel scrunched her face for a moment, as if pondering. Soon, she smiled brightly.
“If you put it that way, I can’t ask what I wanted to ask.”
She held the letter, frowned for a moment, then slowly brought it to her nose.
“Perfume…?”
“Ah, you’ll meet them soon. Someone from the Empire’s special forces…”
“Hmmm. A woman’s perfume.”
Abel put the letter back on the table without even opening it. She stood up and stretched for a moment. The white, toned muscles visible through her loose clothes caught his eye.
“I can’t open an invitation sent by a woman first. Come on, follow me. We need to warm up a bit.”
“…Abel?”
“I need to see the swordsmanship you’ve been practicing.”
No ulterior motives. Abel strode out of the room.
*
As soon as she stepped out of the monastery’s main gate, Angela chuckled and pulled out a pipe. At the same time, a man waiting by the gate approached and lit it with a spark from his fingertips.
-Sizzle.
“Phew. Damn ascetics.”
“How did your mission go?”
Angela curled one side of her lips into a fierce smile. The man opened the carriage door for her and politely stepped back. She climbed into the carriage and said,
“Get in, Brandon. This isn’t something to discuss outside.”
“Yes, Captain.”
-Creak. Thud.
The carriage rattled as it sped down the mountain road. Inside, Angela closed the curtains and lowered the iron bars. In the completely sealed space, she stretched out on a carpeted sofa.
“For a treasure those idealists were hiding, it’s not bad. We can proceed with the plan as originally intended.”
“The General is quite concerned.”
“I don’t care what that old man says, Brandon.”
“The Vaitas Church isn’t some small rural temple. The saint of the Temple of the Gods isn’t just some local youth.”
“And I’m not some country woman, and our special forces aren’t just a neighborhood watch.”
Brandon placed the ashtray at Angela’s fingertips. Angela twisted her hand slightly to shake off the ash and took another deep drag.
“Phew. If we both fail, whether it’s clothes or lives on the line, why are you so scared?”
“I’m fine, but Captain, you…”
“Kick. Stop it. You’re really trying to gild it, huh? This guy.”
Angela stood up, brushing the cigarette into the ashtray. She pulled out a pocket watch from her pocket and opened it. The intricate gears formed a strange pattern.
“If that saint ends up breaking, wouldn’t it be a burden?”
“If it’s fate to be a touchstone, then so be it. It’s done. Get ready. We’re leaving in four days. We’ll see what fate has in store for him then.”
“…Yes, Captain.”
*
Fernandez wrapped the bandages around his torn and split muscles and skin, biting off the end with his teeth. His luggage was mostly packed, and the weapons he received from the Martirio brothers were sufficient. Since becoming a 2nd-class interrogator, the restrictions on weapon issuance had significantly decreased.
-Knock knock.
“Ah, Kirhas. Come in.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Kirhas soon opened the door and entered. She stood cautiously at the doorway, looking at Fernandez with an uneasy expression.
“…What’s wrong?”
“Um, Your Excellency. I, well… I guess… Um, perhaps…”
“Ah, did you hear from Abel? Yes, we’re going to your hometown.”
“…I see.”
Kirhas bit her lip slightly and stepped into the room. Her ears drooped. She kept glancing at Fernandez’s luggage.
Unusually, she hadn’t prepared at all for the journey.
“What’s wrong? Sit here.”
Fernandez tapped the bed. Kirhas blushed slightly and sat beside him.
“Pull this for me. Ah, yes. Thanks. A bit tighter.”
Kirhas carefully pulled the bandage while looking at his bare torso. He was covered in wounds from his sparring with Abel, which had nearly left him in pieces. Seeing this, Kirhas frowned slightly.
She gently placed her hand on Fernandez’s scarred muscles. Beneath the thin skin, strong muscles pulsed with heat. A hero with the muscles of a bear and the heart of a lion…
“Abel went too far. We have a long journey ahead…”
“This is nothing. Kirhas, Diemonica recovers quickly. So, what’s the matter?”
“Ah, um…”
Kirhas tapped her tail on the bed, lost in thought.
-She’s anxious.
‘You can tell just by looking.’
-Idiot. If a beastman whose entire family was burned and sold into slavery appears with a human, her kin would surely welcome her warmly.
‘Ah…’
Among the proud beastman nobility, appearing with a human would make her seem like a prostitute who sold her body to humans. Kirhas was reluctant to enter areas where she might come into contact with her kin.
I was inconsiderate. Fernandez placed his hand on her head. A beat later, her ears perked up.
“Don’t worry, Kirhas. I have a plan.”
“…?”
“I won’t let you be humiliated.”
Kirhas Hearttaker, the Shield of the Wilderness. The great hero who formed the Federation of Beastman Nobles and stopped Karadskar. In her past life, she was no less than an idol to all beastman nobility.
Was it any different in this life? She had lost her homeland, been sold into slavery in human lands, and even fallen into the hands of heretics. But overcoming all those trials, she returned to her homeland.
Twenty years later, when Kirhas Hearttaker’s military flag stood tall in the wasteland, no one dared to scorn her as a ‘former slave.’ As one of her nemeses, Fernandez knew well how she had risen to that command.
‘The variable of the 50-year war.’
Fernandez closed his eyes and looked down at Kirhas, feeling his touch. Among her past achievements was the ‘breakthrough of the Ancient Temple of the Gods.’
An ancient ruin known only to her in this era. The secret stronghold of the now-extinct Kalani Clan. ‘The Fall of Kazak Kadán.’
If she could break through its depths and revive the Ancient Temple of the Gods, making a grand debut… In her past life, she achieved this after establishing her position, but for Kirhas, starting as a former slave, there could be no better stepping stone.
Kadán of the Hunt. The first god killed by Mumto. In his prime, it might have been different, but for Mumto, weakened and locked away by the Altberth incident, what could be more troublesome than the resurrection of the god he killed?
“…Yes, Your Excellency.”
Kirhas smiled brightly and nodded. Seeing her unwavering trust, Fernandez’s lips softened into a smile.
*
Abel sat cross-legged on the bed, bathed in moonlight. Melsildur was the god of dawn, and at this time, just before sunrise, her power was at its peak.
-Huu…
White steam rose from her lips. She felt her spiritual energy quickly assembling and aligning. How much of her life remained? If she didn’t push herself, maybe 200 years? If she lived more vigorously, perhaps around 100 years?
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Yes, it didn’t matter. 100 years was enough. If she could close her eyes in the place she desired, in the arms of those she cherished.
‘…Dain.’
Abel recalled the sword strike Fernandez had shown her during the day. Rough and crude, but it was undoubtedly Dain’s swordsmanship. Her swordsmanship. The one she had personally taught.
‘Dain, you met him yourself and gave him your sword.’
She looked at the old cloak hanging on her wall. It bore the seal of King Dain. She gazed sadly at the seal depicting a roaring lion.
‘Please, protect him to the end of this journey.’
Is it too cruel a request as a mother and teacher? Abel smiled sadly and closed her eyes. Far away, the sun was rising.
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