Chapter 247 - Will It Mean Anything? (1)

SQUELCH.

When I heard that sound, I finally had no choice but to stop. There were limits to what I could ignore, and blood and pus pooling in the bottoms of my boots exceeded them.

Was this as far as I could march today, then?

With that thought drifting vaguely through my mind, I searched for a suitable rock. Fortunately, there was one nearby. It would serve as both a windbreak and a seat.

I settled against the rock and slipped off my boots. The bandages I had wrapped around my feet for lack of socks were sodden with red and yellow.

But there was no need to recoil in horror. This was more or less inevitable when you wore combat boots everywhere.

If I hadn't ridden horses and carriages during our travels, it would have happened sooner. After all, even with so little time spent walking, I'd still developed corns and eczema.

So I calmly unwrapped the bandages. The exposed feet were grotesquely swollen, with patches of skin peeling away down through the dermis.

Add the crusts of blood and pus and the wounds that had already split open and were freely bleeding, and there was nothing more to say. These were not healthy feet.

RUSTLE.

But as I'd said, this was simply inevitable. Something that would have happened sooner or later.

This was the first time it had been this severe, but there was no need to panic. As I waited for the bandages to become as good as new, I smeared ointment over my feet.

My feet twitched a few times at my command. They felt hot as I treated them, but there was no pain.

I was giving them a cursory check for nerve damage... There were no purple blotches, and they moved just fine. I probably didn't need to worry about skin necrosis yet.

And that should be enough for now. I recalled a baseball player who'd been hospitalized with cellulitis, then simply closed my eyes and let the thought pass.

I deliberately ignored the fact that this wasn't something to take lightly. From my standpoint, dying at my pursuers' hands or dying of a related complication—sepsis, for instance—amounted to much the same thing.

Instead, once I'd finished treating my feet, I lifted my head without any particular thought. Since I didn't think I could walk any farther today, I intended to at least catch my breath. It was also true that I'd been so fixated on escaping these past few days that I hadn't checked where I was going.

"... Ah."

Still, yes. Had I known I would see a sky adorned in luscious peach pink, iolite indigo, blazing gold, and ashen clouds so nearly colorless despite their bluish tinge, I would have looked up sooner.

"I wish I could take a picture."

Nature proclaimed its grandeur with color choices bolder than most painters would dare.

Moved anew by the sight, I let my gaze widen. Dozens of silhouetted birds flying far away and a pitch-black ridgeline contrasting with the golden horizon came into view.

That black was such a contrast to the sky.

Honestly, the disparity was so great that it looked a little like stage scenery set up for dramatic effect.

"..."

But that subtle incongruity hardly mattered. I quietly savored the moment, engraving a sight I couldn't even preserve in a drawing into my memory.

My sleep-fogged head seemed to clear a little.

KEE-YAWK. YAWK, YAWK, YAWK.

But just as that fog threatened to turn to drowsiness, a bird's cry startled me awake. Was it a pursuer? The obsession that had taken root over the past few days spat out the thought without bothering with logic. Of course it wasn't.

My bristling nerves settled again.

"Hah."

Aware that I'd grown oversensitive—though who wouldn't in this situation?—I pressed firmly between my brows. The troubles I'd put off were relentlessly encroaching on this brief respite.

But it was true that I'd focused solely on fleeing, telling myself I had no time to think. And the concerns surfacing now were things I would eventually have to consider for the sake of my future.

In the end, I began thinking carefully about whoever might be on my tail. The first questions were, naturally, whether anyone had actually pursued me, and if so, whether they were still doing so.

If I took it a step further, the next question would probably be who my pursuers were. For example, was it the Hero's party following my trail, or people the Order had handpicked? Things like that.

But no answers came. Of course they didn't. I hadn't seen a single pursuer's face. That was because I'd run desperately on the first day, judging that I might be at a disadvantage if they chased me on horseback.

And that wasn't all. Even that hadn't reassured me, so I'd spent four full days running through the nights, relying on magical energy. It was only another four days ago that I'd begun allowing myself a little of the food and sleep I'd been skipping, thinking I might finally be safe enough.

At this point, I thought they would have lost me along the way even if they had followed.

If they'd given up the chase from the outset, well, that was something to be grateful for in its own right. Having my safety guaranteed mattered more than whether all the hardship of fleeing had been pointless.

"Still, you never know..."

Of course, that didn't mean I felt completely at ease. I had neither the talent nor the experience to evade pursuit—in other words, to erase my tracks completely—and I had no idea just how capable professional trackers were. I couldn't help it.

Besides, magic. Magic existed in this world.

I could relax a little, but I couldn't let my guard down entirely.

Leaning back on my arms, I blinked slowly. A few bright stars were beginning to appear in the steadily darkening sky.

"... It's cold."

RUSTLE.

The wild grass rising around me swayed fiercely in the wind.

TAP.

"...!"

A faint tap struck the sliver of my ear exposed between strands of hair. I reflexively opened my eyes, only to find darkness hardly different from what I'd seen with them shut. It seemed to be... night.

But hadn't there still been some red in the sky just a moment ago...? It couldn't have gone pitch-black in the time it took me to close my eyes and open them... could... it...?

Drowsiness kept dragging out the theory taking vague shape in my mind. Even as I muttered that I needed to wake up, needed to wake up, my eyelids gently lowered beneath the onslaught of sleep. I was tired.

PATTER.

Soon, though, I began to feel faint, dull impacts against my clothes as well. This had gone beyond anything I could ignore, however sleepy I was.

At last, my eyes opened fully and I raised my head. A perfectly timed fat raindrop struck the bridge of my nose.

"Fucking hell..."

There had been dark clouds far to the northeast, but who would have thought they were rain clouds—and heading this way, at that? If Deathbringer had been here, we could have known in advance and prepared. A pity.

"..."

No. I shouldn't call it a pity.

Leaving him behind had been my choice, and our inability to stay together was a consequence he—or I—had brought upon ourselves.

Yes. This was a perfectly just result.

"... I wonder if there's somewhere to shelter from the rain."

I deliberately spoke aloud to rouse my mind from eight days of accumulated exhaustion. It didn't do much. Only sleep could cure the fatigue of sleepless nights.

So I left my foggy mind alone and put my boots back on. My gritty eyes and shaking hands caused a few fumbling attempts, but I finally crammed my freshly bandaged feet inside.

Rather than a sharp pain, a dull heat traveled up my legs.

PATTER. PATTER.

Meanwhile, the rain grew heavier, and the strengthening wind battered my entire body. Perhaps because this was open plains, the wind felt particularly fierce. The three tails of my coat flapped through the blue-black air.

"... Good thing I didn't bring Frederick."

If I'd brought him, I wouldn't have been able to take proper care of him at a time like this. In fact, not just today, but for the past eight days.

Better to have left him there. It really had been a wise decision. Praising my past self's choice, I raised a hand. In mere moments, the rain had grown so fierce I could barely keep my eyes open. It struck my shielding hand and ran down inside my collar. I felt a little chilled.

But surely moving like this was better than sitting still in the rain. Forcing my leaden legs to move, I carefully made my way forward.

My foot sank deep. It wasn't my fault that luck wasn't on my side.

"Hah."

Without even the energy to swear, I pulled my foot out of the mud. It hadn't turned soggy because of this rain; the ground seemed to have been wet to begin with... It wasn't a mudflat, so why was it this boggy?

I shook the thick mud off my boot.

I eased backward. For now, I shouldn't keep heading this way. I stepped back and searched for a route around. Once again, it wasn't my fault I couldn't find one because I couldn't see a thing.

"... Could I bring out a lamp without getting caught?"

With my muddled mind, I fiercely debated whether to take out a lamp.

It wasn't that I didn't understand what a lead this might give my pursuers, but the combination of night and rain was disastrous for visibility. I had no other option. At this rate, I felt like I'd die in the rain before my pursuers caught me.

"Please don't let them find me."

At least rain this heavy ought to keep the lamplight from spreading too far. In the end, I hung a magic lamp at my waist with that modest hope.

The lamp's reach was short, so my visibility was still limited, but it was better than before. At least I wouldn't sink into mud because I couldn't see what was underfoot.

SHHHHH.

The silence of the night, filled only with the sound of pouring rain, soaked the road in chill.

"..."

Just walking on like this didn't seem good for my mental health.

Instinctively certain of that, I searched for something to pass the time. Fortunately, there were a few suitable subjects.

Roughly... the concerns I hadn't resolved before falling asleep. Troubles like my pursuers and what I should do next.

And the former was already settled. Yes, I'd fallen asleep while thinking about it, but frankly, further thought wouldn't produce a solution.

The latter, on the other hand... really was something I needed to address soon. So much so that even the excuse of being too preoccupied with pursuit was becoming embarrassing—though if I insisted on justifying myself, I could always say, "How sound could any plan made after four sleepless nights possibly be?"

"... How am I going to live from now on?"

Insisting on speaking aloud to break the silence, I pondered what lay ahead. But that only left me feeling more lost. Especially since, right now, the problem looked utterly hopeless.

"Hah."

For the past eight days, I'd avoided villages and cities entirely to give my pursuers fewer chances of finding me. Never mind going near one; the moment I spotted even the outline of a village, I'd veered away.

But how long could I keep this up? When I still couldn't even build a proper fire and lacked the skills to forage in the wild, just how long?

... I couldn't pinpoint exactly when, but soon I would have to visit a city. Even setting survival aside, that was especially true considering the goal I'd gone so far as to flee to accomplish.

Of course. How could I possibly investigate this body thoroughly without other people's cooperation—whether through their accumulated knowledge or the memories of someone familiar with this body's past? I would need them. Absolutely, absolutely need them. Someone in a city... or a village.

"..."

But considering my circumstances, there were major obstacles to overcome first.

The first problem was that I would soon be a wanted man—not certain, but highly likely. The second, and an even greater obstacle than the first, was that I possessed demonic energy.

In other words, I couldn't escape the Temple's notice. That was also why I'd gone to such lengths to skirt cities and villages.

"Just imagining it is already fucking awful..."

Given everything that had happened so far, this was hardly an overreaction. For instance, the way Temple personnel had glared and watched me whenever I entered a village. Or how they could locate me from over ten li away simply because I harbored demonic energy—though it had mostly been the Hero doing that.

With all that, the scenarios that followed in my mind could only be negative. I quietly despaired.

"Fuck..."

But seriously, what was I supposed to do? Forget conducting a proper investigation; one wrong move and everyone would be reporting me.

And what if, by some chance, the people holding the information decided I was something that needed to be killed and kept their silence forever? How would I uncover the truth then? At that point, having pursuers on my tail would be the least of my worries.

Considering the worst possibilities in advance accomplished nothing but making me feel suffocated. It wasn't pleasant. My frustration deepened.

"So it all comes down to the demonic energy..."

But I couldn't give up just because things seemed hopeless. If I didn't solve this, the road home would become very, very, very difficult.

"Damn it."

No, but seriously, how the fuck was I supposed to solve it?

I tore at my hair, piling on the "No, but" openings that were practically a Korean national trait. Whether because I hadn't slept or because the problem truly had no answer, I couldn't come up with a single thing. It felt like the easiest option would be to plant my face in a dish and drown.

"If I at least had somewhere I could stay without worrying..."

But what made this hardest of all was that I didn't have a single place where I could think about these troubles in peace, or a single person to discuss them with.

I felt I finally understood why people on the run, with no home and nowhere to go, struggled so terribly. Not that I'd ever wanted to experience it firsthand.

SSSSSH.

"...?"

But as I trudged steadily onward, sodden step after sodden step, an eerie sound of wind brushed past my ears. It was subtly different from the wind and rain I'd been hearing until now.

Not merely wind stirring blades of grass, but something slicker and faster moving...

"..."

What kinds of beasts roamed the plains? With that thought, I rested a hand on my sword hilt. My senses, spread wide, had yet to pick up anything. Nothing. Or was there?

["Well, I'll be. It really is you, Sir Knight."]

At the presence that appeared in an instant, I nearly drew my sword on reflex. The only reason I didn't complete the motion was that I quickly recognized the voice.

The blade rattled against its scabbard, narrowly escaping being swung.

["... Did I nearly get myself killed?"]

"... What is it?"

You think you're the only one who got a fright? So did I.

Suppressing those feelings, I slid my sword back into its sheath.

["What are you?"]

An unfamiliar voice cut in the next moment. The contempt and disgust faintly underlying it made my fingers stiffen.

["You know that thing?"]

That thing. My lips moved once at the new speaker's choice of words. No sound escaped, but something I couldn't identify had certainly risen into my throat.

["Yes."]

["... Explain."]

But... I couldn't quite get angry. Judging by the way the voice reached me, I suspected this being was of a similar kind to the Mountain Lord—a primeval beast, or something of comparable standing.

And it wouldn't be entirely strange for such beings to find me unpleasant. I did harbor demonic energy, after all.

["Uh. Well, you see..."]

Meanwhile, the Mountain Lord explained our connection to the owner of the voice. The events in the Great Forest, how I'd killed Biryuho and handed over his heart, and so on. Those were the major points, but he occasionally added little things, like how I'd bought him pickling melons. I had no idea why he was mentioning that.

["Anyway, he's a really good person!"]

Still... it didn't feel bad. Yes, this felt rather nice.

Watching the Mountain Lord's tail waving enthusiastically, feeling the goodwill that had suffused his entire explanation, I let the corners of my eyes soften faintly.

It really did feel nice.

Is It a Problem If the Protagonist Is a Roleplay Fanatic? (Serial)

Author │ Hae Inseol

Publisher │ Kim Juhyeong

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