The Banquet of Blood (1)
Kallen and Ellie were enjoying some rare time alone together in the woods.
"Mmnh… Kallen…"
The two of them had long since grown accustomed to pressing their lips together and sharing each other's warmth.
As if answering Ellie's plaintive little whimpers, Kallen reached out and drew her slender body deeper into his embrace. The arm that had been roaming her waist crept slowly upward, and his fingers were just about to glide softly over the swell of her chest—
"Kallen… that feels nice… Hah?!"
Ellie let out a shriek utterly unbefitting the moment and slapped his hand away. Kallen blinked up at her with a sheepish, wide-eyed expression. Somewhere along the way, Ellie had covered her chest with both hands and was now glaring at him with all the resentment she could muster.
"I told you it's still not allowed. Do you want to die?"
"Oh, come on. We're engaged now."
"Not properly yet, we're not. Until we hold the wedding ceremony in front of my teacher, it's absolutely off-limits. Don't even dream about it."
"…"
At Ellie's flat refusal, Kallen's eyebrows drooped pitifully. Seeing the unmistakable sulk spreading across his face, Ellie finally realized her mistake.
Throwing a cautious glance his way, she slithered over to where he sat with his shoulders sagging.
"It's not much longer now, is it? You can't even wait that much?"
Then, in a voice soft as a soothing lullaby, she tried to coax him out of his funk.
"I'll make you pumpkin pie later. I'll even pile in extra sugar and butter, just for you. So cheer up, okay?"
"…"
"Wh-what's the big rush anyway? You already have me now… I'm, I'm yours, aren't I…?"
Just spitting out such an embarrassing consolation made heat flood Ellie's face as well. Fortunately, her desperate efforts seemed to bear fruit—Kallen, who had been staring at the ground, lifted his gaze slightly.
Then he asked her, very quietly.
"So after the ceremony, it's allowed?"
"Uh, huh? I— I mean, yes…?"
Ellie nodded along, utterly bewildered. She had no idea what he was getting at, but her plan for the moment was simply to soothe the sulking man in front of her.
Kallen pondered for a moment, then opened his mouth again.
"Then how far is allowed?"
"Wh-what?"
Caught completely off guard by the question, Ellie found herself genuinely thinking it over. After a long, solemn deliberation, she murmured to herself.
"Well… maybe touching… or maybe su—?!"
And it was only then that Ellie realized exactly what words were coming out of her own mouth. She whipped her head around to find Kallen already grinning ear to ear, staring straight at her.
Only now understanding that she'd been toyed with, Ellie scowled and smacked him across the back again and again with merciless hands.
"Hey!! You did that on purpose!!"
"You gave permission yourself, didn't you?"
"Shut up!! Don't even dream about it!! From now on, kissing is banned too!! And here I was trying so hard to make it up to you…!"
"Sure, sure. But come nightfall you'll just come crawling to my tent again—"
"I said nooo!! Die! Just die already!!"
Ellie's flushed face was now beyond distinguishing from a freshly harvested sweet potato. The two of them rolled around in the grass, tangled together, wrestling for a good long while.
"Phew… ah, that was fun…"
Catching his breath, Kallen flopped onto his back and spread his arms wide, giving Ellie a meaningful look. She, arms folded tight, glared down at him—then silently turned her head away. But when she sneaked the tiniest glance back, Kallen was still lying there with his arms open, waiting. Only then did Ellie play the reluctant one, unfolding her arms and crawling into his embrace.
Nestling naturally into his chest all the same, she muttered in a vaguely dissatisfied voice.
"You were definitely like a puppy at first. When did you get so lecherous?"
"You're the one who named me a wolf."
"Honestly…"
She didn't have the energy left to stay angry. All Ellie could manage was one long, dramatic sigh.
And so they lay side by side in comfortable silence, savoring the rare peace—until Ellie suddenly propped herself up on one elbow and spoke.
"Oh, right. I had that weird dream again last night."
"What dream?"
"The one where this bright, warm light wraps around my whole body. And I heard a voice, too."
"A voice?"
"Yeah. Something like… 'The world shall be bathed in light'? Or whatever. And then it just kept—"
"It said… what?"
Ellie furrowed her brow all the way down and fell into earnest contemplation. Watching her, Kallen chuckled and waved it off as nothing.
"How do you have dreams like that so often? Last time, you said you dreamed about me lying in another woman's lap. What on earth do you think about all day…"
"Don't talk about it like it's nothing. This is serious for me."
Ellie shot back sharply.
"Do you have any idea how scared I was back then? Some black-haired woman had you lying in her lap, stroking your forehead. Her eyes were bright red and her skin was so pale it made my skin crawl… And no matter how much I screamed, you wouldn't wake up…"
"Good grief…"
Kallen shook his head. These days he was living proof of what the men at the tavern always grumbled about—women dragging their dream-talk into reality just to torment their men.
At his dismissive attitude, Ellie pursed her lips and pinched his arm.
"It has to be a revelation. Are you secretly cheating on me? With someone in the corps?"
"Like that would happen. I spend all day with you, doing this."
Kallen shot her an incredulous look.
"Besides, who in our mercenary corps even has black hair?"
"Th-that's true, but… and look at this!"
Ellie, who had been stammering awkwardly, suddenly raised her voice and undid the bandage binding one of her arms. What emerged was skin without a single blemish, smooth and unmarked before Kallen's eyes.
"This wound here. See how it's gone without a trace?"
"Huh?"
Only then did Kallen's expression turn to genuine confusion.
On their last mission, Ellie had carelessly taken a slash from a cursed blade, leaving a wound that refused to heal. It had only been a shallow split in the skin, so they'd simply dressed it as a stopgap, planning to have it properly treated in the next territory they passed through.
And now that wound had vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed at all.
"How is this possible? A cursed wound just healing on its own—it defies all reason."
"…Maybe it was just a rusty blade?"
"Alisha confirmed it was definitely a Morphia-grade demonic blade. You know how sharp her eyes are."
She'd verified it directly with the corps' healer—there was nothing left to argue. Kallen began to sink into troubled thought, certain that something truly strange was going on.
But then he looked at Ellie's frightened face, and he quickly changed his mind.
Whatever else was true, comforting a woman trembling with fear was unquestionably his job.
"Well, either way, the wound healing is a good thing, right? It wasn't festering or anything."
He pulled Ellie into his arms and smoothed her hair back with his hand as he spoke.
"Don't worry about it too much. If it still bothers you, we can ask the priests later. We're stopping by a temple anyway, aren't we?"
"…Yeah."
Only then did Ellie's face relax with relief, and she buried her face even deeper into Kallen's chest—
When a bell tolled noisily in the distance, signaling the end of their free time.
"Ugh, already…"
"Time really does fly…"
With faces etched in naked reluctance, the two of them dragged themselves up and made their way back along the path they'd come. By the time they returned, the mercenary camp was in full swing, everyone busy breaking down the encampment.
"Look at that girl—drool practically dripping down her chin. While her elders are out here working themselves to the bone… tsk tsk."
At the vice-captain Ayli's jab, Ellie instinctively wiped at her mouth. Only when she saw Ellie take the bait did Ayli finally burst out laughing.
"Both of you, behave yourselves in front of the captain, got it? Lately her old-maid hysteria's been worse than ever, and—oof!"
Ayli, mid-cackle, abruptly found herself slammed face-first into the mud. Lenart had crept up behind her and booted her over, now glaring down at her with an irritated look.
"You're the one who needs to behave. I let you run your mouth too long and now you keep climbing all over me… good grief."
Lenart heaved a long-suffering sigh. Kallen, surveying the bustling camp, asked her in bewilderment.
"Lenart. What's going on? I thought we weren't moving out until next week?"
"That was the plan… but I think it'd be better to move up the schedule."
Countless fighting forces—mercenaries and adventurers alike—had poured into the north, yet the war effort was deteriorating by the day.
The barbarians beyond the great wall and the remnant beastfolk were trouble enough, but now demons were pouring from rifts opening on every side.
Groundless rumors had even begun to spread that some enormous black magic was being prepared in the north, and the chaos at the front lines was spiraling beyond all control.
The Successor of the Sword's party was performing valiantly, to be sure, but plugging a front that wide with a handful of people had been impossible from the very start.
"From what I hear, they're searching for the Saintess."
"The Saintess?"
"A prophecy supposedly came down to the main body of the Church of Aten… So the temples must be on full alert. If the one blessed as the Saintess dies before they can awaken, then it's simply all over. The Successor's party is probably prioritizing that search above everything else…"
"I hope they find her…"
Even after Lenart's explanation, Kallen merely nodded along with detached curiosity, as if it were someone else's problem.
Not a single living soul in the empire had laid eyes on the Saintess firsthand. The last one had appeared some two hundred years ago, when the empire teetered on the edge of ruin.
The word meant nothing to him—nothing stirred at all.
"Anyway, the front line keeps getting pushed further and further back. Best to slip away before it reaches us. We've done all we can here."
The mercenary corps' supplies had already run bone-dry. In Lenart's mind, they had fought long enough—there was nothing left to regret.
"Besides, this place is far too close to the East. Things are quiet for now, but if the winds shift, who knows when another plague might come blowing through."
The eastern reaches of the continent had long since become a land of death, unfit for human life.
As if reducing the eastern kingdoms to rubble weren't enough, the plague that had swept through the empire and sent even the Emperor into his eternal sleep still raged unchecked.
Every word out of Lenart's mouth was sound reasoning. Kallen nodded along without a second thought.
"So where are we headed?"
"Further down. Toward the Talaran Mountains."
Lenart answered without a moment's hesitation.
"That's elven ranger territory, so conditions are far better than around here. And since it borders Caliburn, we can always head there to winter over if it comes to that."
The Caliburn Fief, home of Elysion Academy, was counted among the few genuinely pleasant places left in the empire.
At the name surfacing after so long, Kallen found himself glancing at Ellie without quite meaning to.
Ellie, who had been listlessly kicking at the dirt with an air of total disinterest, caught him looking and tilted her head in confusion instead.
"What are you staring at?"
"…Nothing."
Kallen simply shook his head. Lenart soon came up behind them both and slapped them briskly on the back, shoving them forward.
"Now! You two get moving and help with the packing! If we're leaving by tonight, we've got to hurry!"