Delroz murmured quietly in response to Banteon’s reply.
“It seemed like you liked it.”
Come to think of it, Delroz often watched Banteon in silence. Considering his usual demeanor, it was hard to believe he was looking at him out of affection, which made it all the more puzzling. He was probably just intrigued—like one would gaze at a waterfall entranced or marvel at the stars in wonder.
Of course, the waterfall that cascaded down like a rainbow bursting through waves had been beautiful. It was Banteon’s first time ever immersing himself in the crystal-clear waters of a stream that reflected all the way down to his toes. The night sky, shining like a picture, was equally breathtaking. If someone could live surrounded by such scenery every day, they would surely be happy.
But for Banteon, who was raised in the city, no scenery was charming enough to make the creaking sensation of a hard spring mattress beneath his back worth tolerating.
“I’ve never even considered it.”
“Yeah. That’s how it should be.”
Why did every seemingly pleasant conversation have to end with a sarcastic jab? He was probably mocking him for carelessly pulling out a gold coin earlier and for speaking in a way that didn’t suit this place.
It was a mistake to think, even for a moment, that things were peaceful. Banteon rolled himself tightly in the blanket and turned the other way. Instead of the twinkling stars, he was now facing the mold-covered, weathered wall of the inn.
As expected, this place didn’t suit him.
Now that they had reached a village, he should be able to contact the Center once they made it to a larger city. He might also hear news of the Subjugation Squad left in the mine—and perhaps he’d be able to return soon.
With that thought, he fell into an unbelievably deep sleep despite the coarse blanket and the stiff pillow.
***
A soft breeze brushed past his ear. A faint light seeped through his closed eyelids. As he coaxed his heavy eyes open, the sunlight was already streaming brightly through the window, gently stirring the curtain.
As he tried to sit up, something unfamiliar brushed against his foot. Looking down, Banteon saw a fresh bandage and splint firmly wrapped around his ankle.
“You’re awake?”
Delroz had just finished washing up and was drying his hair with a towel.
“What is this?”
“The healer came by early this morning.”
It seemed a physician had stopped in while Banteon was asleep. What bothered him more than the treatment itself was the fact that changes had been made to his body while he was unconscious.
“Do you not know how to wake a sleeping person?”
He genuinely wanted to ask. If something needed to be done, couldn’t they just wake him? At this point, waking up to some new situation had become almost routine.
“You don’t know what you’re like when you sleep.”
“And what am I like when I sleep?”
“Not your sleeping habits… Never mind. It’s fine.”
He’d been told he slept like the dead—silent and still—but never that he had bad sleeping habits. Then again, he’d never spent the morning with someone he’d shared a night with. That was something he used to hear when he was a kid.
Still, judging by the untouched blanket and the neat condition of his clothes when he woke up, he could more or less figure out how he slept. With a disgruntled expression, he stepped down from the bed. His ankle felt noticeably better when it touched the ground.
“What time is it now?”
“Just past eleven.”
According to the map he’d bought yesterday, the village that could connect him to the Center wasn’t too far. If they moved promptly, they could arrive in a few days. If they could rent a car, they’d be there in just a few hours, but there was no way such transportation existed here. He studied the distance carefully, gauging how long it would take on foot.
“I’ve arranged for a carriage, so no need to walk anymore.”
“A carriage?”
“They still use those around here.”
An involuntary groan escaped him. They still used carriages? Even in regions where cars were scarce, there were at least railways or steam engines. He hadn’t expected much from this place, but a carriage? That was something he’d only ever seen in history books.
He knew there was a disparity between the capital and other cities, but not to this extent.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he walked into the bathroom. Though it wasn’t hot, Banteon’s cheeks reflected in the mirror were flushed with heat. He brushed his damp bangs away from his sweaty forehead and eased himself into the hot water-filled bathtub.
With no luggage to pack, getting ready didn’t take long. After putting on the uniform he’d dried overnight, he headed down to the first floor. Sitting at the counter was a different clerk than the one from the day before.
“Oh dear. Are you feeling better now?”
The clerk, now much more polite and energetic than yesterday, bowed courteously.
“We were so alarmed at dawn! That man stormed in, demanding a doctor with a terrifying—”
“Quiet.”
The clerk immediately shut his mouth into a straight line. Watching the exchange, Banteon could more or less piece together what had happened.
“Did I have another fever during the night?”
“…Yeah.”
His body had felt fine during the day, but apparently once the tension had eased, the pain had returned in the night.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Had Delroz simply said he didn’t wake him because he was sick, there wouldn’t have been any scolding that morning. But in response to Banteon’s question, Delroz only shrugged his shoulders.
“It was already taken care of.”
Now Banteon was starting to get a sense of what kind of person Delroz was. He meant well in his own way, but to Banteon, it came off as condescending.
“Still, let me know next time. Not knowing is worse.”
“Mm…”
Delroz trailed off, his gaze drifting toward the shop’s entrance. His furrowed brows tightened, then relaxed as if he’d made up his mind.
“Then don’t be surprised when we step outside.”
Leaving behind that cryptic remark, Delroz strode out the door. As he opened it wide, sunlight flooded in through the frame. Beyond it, where there should have been the same neat inn courtyard and fence as when they’d arrived…
“…What the…”
It was gone.
In its place were shattered wooden splinters scattered across the ground and uneven pits dug into the earth. In areas where the dirt hadn’t been cleared yet, dark red bloodstains remained.
Banteon frowned and looked around. Even the dirt near the pits was tinged faintly red. A moment later, the clerk who had followed them outside stopped in front of the bloodstains, scratching his head with an awkward smile.
“Ha… ha… It’s nothing. We tried to clean it all up, but I guess some got left behind. Please don’t worry about it.”
“That’s blood, isn’t it?”
“Well, we’re preparing for a feast soon, and we butchered a pig… Maybe it spilled over a bit.”
No matter how festive the occasion, no one slaughters pigs in the front yard at dawn.
The missing innkeeper. The staff, now speaking formally and bowing, unlike yesterday. The bloodstains in the yard. It all pointed to one thing.
“Did someone break in last night?”
“Yeah. Looks like the innkeeper ran his mouth about the gold.”
In the end, the innkeeper, tempted by greed, had talked about the gold Banteon carried. That drew in intruders during the night.
What happened after was easy to imagine. Even thousands of unmanifested couldn’t so much as scratch Delroz. They’d either died or been maimed so badly they’d never come back. They could turn over the whole yard, and the blood would still remain.
Banteon felt no sympathy for the night’s unwanted visitors. What disturbed him more was himself. No matter how ill he’d been, how could he have slept through something like this?
“You don’t hear anything once you’re asleep.”
“That can’t be true.”
“You slept like a baby while a bunch of those big guys were being smashed into the ground.”
Banteon wasn’t exactly a light sleeper, but he wasn’t unusually dull either. Still, the evidence in front of him was undeniable.
He shook off the swirling thoughts. Only a day had passed since arriving at the inn, yet so much had already happened. First, unfamiliar treatment—then an attempted robbery.
He exhaled deeply onto the dirt. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had to. The villages where commoners lived were full of things Banteon didn’t understand.
It had only been a day in this foreign place, but it was already clear. This was a world where the rules he knew no longer applied.
In the end, Banteon reversed the resolve he had once held so firmly.
Avoiding Delroz’s gaze, which was softly resting on him, he called out.
“Delroz.”
“What is it?”
“From now on, I’m dropping honorifics.”
Delroz raised an eyebrow but only nodded, as if it were nothing worth making a fuss over. There was no sarcastic “took you long enough” or “should’ve done that sooner.” That was a relief.
As the awkward silence lingered between the two of them, the carriage they had reserved clattered up to the front. It was a humble vehicle pulled by two horses. Banteon gazed at it curiously—it was his first time seeing one in real life. Much smaller and shabbier than the ones in books, it smelled unpleasant and looked terribly uncomfortable.
Noticing the slight furrow in his brow, Delroz asked, “If you hate it, I can carry you again.”
“…No, I’ll endure it.”
No matter how rough the ride, it was better than being piggybacked by Delroz all day. With reluctance in every step, Banteon climbed up the footrest and into the carriage, where he found stiff, cushionless seats. Delroz placed a blanket he’d ripped from the inn beneath him and sat down.
As the wheels began to turn, the blanket proved useless—the carriage transmitted every bump in the road straight through the floor.
***
Upon arriving at the next village, Banteon stumbled out of the carriage.
He’d bought some food in town, but couldn’t eat much. The whole way there, he’d been plagued by motion sickness. His stomach churned, and his head throbbed dully.
The village was built into a mountain, likely carved out from high terrain. The carriage had to descend a long, steep path to reach it.
