Is There Any Meaning? (1)
Splorch. The moment that sound reached me, I had no choice but to stop walking. There were limits to what a man could ignore, and the pus and blood pooling in layers inside my combat boots had well exceeded them.
So today's march ends here, I guess.
I thought that dully as I looked around for a suitable rock. Luckily there was one nearby—good enough to serve as both windbreak and makeshift chair.
Ssshk.
I leaned my back against it and pulled off my boots. The bandages wrapped around my feet in place of socks were soaked through, sticky with red and yellow.
Still, no need to freak out over it. Anyone who marched around in combat boots could see this coming from a mile away.
If I hadn't ridden horses or wagons for stretches of the journey, it would have hit me even sooner. Even with the walking time cut way down, corns and skin infections always showed up eventually.
So I calmly unwrapped the bandages. The feet that emerged looked grotesque: epidermis and dermis peeling in uneven ridges, the whole of them swollen and warped out of shape.
Add the crusted scabs of pus and blood here and there, and the open wounds already weeping freely, and it was clear these were not normal feet.
Rustle.
But like I said, this was only the inevitable—something that was always going to catch up to me sooner or later.
The severity might be new, but there was no reason to panic. I waited for the bandages to turn pristine again while I smeared ointment over my feet with brisk strokes.
Twitch.
In the process, those feet—warm but free of any pain—obeyed my will and flexed a few times.
I'd just been checking whether the nerves were fried or not… No purplish mottling, and they moved fine. Necrosis of the skin wasn't something I needed to worry about yet.
And for now, that was enough. I thought briefly of some baseball player who'd been hospitalized with cellulitis, then simply closed my eyes and let it go.
I deliberately ignored the fact that this wasn't a condition you could just shrug off. From where I stood, getting caught and killed by pursuers or dying from some complication like sepsis amounted to the same damn thing.
Once every bit of treatment was done, I lifted my head without much thought. I wouldn't be walking any farther today, so I figured I might as well catch my breath. These past few days I'd been obsessed only with the fact that I was running; I hadn't even checked where I was going.
"…Ah."
If I'd known the sky would look like this—luscious peach pink and iolite blue, blazing gold, and ash-gray clouds that seemed almost navy yet closer to pure monochrome—I would have raised my head a lot sooner.
"I wish I could take a picture of this."
The audacity of the color choices put any painter to shame and announced the greatness of nature in no uncertain terms.
I felt a fresh surge of awe and widened my field of vision a little more. Dozens of shadow-birds wheeled away in the distance, and a pitch-black mountain ridge stood in stark contrast against the golden horizon.
That black made the sky look all the more vivid by comparison.
Honestly the gap was so extreme it almost felt like stage scenery put up for effect.
"……."
But that faint sense of artificiality didn't matter. I burned the unpaintable sight into my memory and quietly savored the moment.
My sleep-starved, foggy head seemed to clear just a little.
Kyaa kkeok-kkeok-kkeok-kkeok.
Just as that fog was about to slide into true drowsiness, a bird's cry snapped me awake. Pursuers? The obsession that had settled in over the last few days spat the thought out before logic could intervene. Of course it wasn't them.
My frayed nerves settled again.
"Hah."
I pressed hard at the bridge of my nose, fully aware I was overreacting—though who the hell wouldn't, in a situation like this. The problems I'd been putting off were barging into the scrap of free time I'd finally been given.
Yet it was also true I'd focused purely on escape, claiming there was no room to think, and the worries rising now really did need sorting out for the sake of the future.
In the end I started weighing the possible tails that might still be on me. The first question was always the same: had they really chased me at all? And if they had, were they still at it?
If I went a little further, the next question would be about the make-up of those pursuers. For instance, were the ones sniffing out my trail the Hero's party, or personnel hand-picked by the Church? Things like that.
No answers came, of course. I'd never once laid eyes on the pursuers. On the first day I'd run myself ragged precisely because I judged that mounted chasers would put me at a disadvantage.
And that wasn't all. Even that hadn't felt safe enough, so I'd ridden the nights through on magic for four straight days. Only four days ago had I finally decided I might be clear and started sneaking in the meals and sleep I'd been skipping.
At this point, even if they had been following me, they should have lost the trail somewhere along the way.
And if they'd given up the chase from the start—well, that was something to be grateful for in its own right. Better my safety secured than all the hardship of the escape rendered meaningless.
"Still… you never know……."
Even so, I didn't let my guard down completely. I had neither the talent nor the experience for vanishing without a trace, and I had no idea how formidable professional trackers could be. That left me no choice.
And then there was magic. This world had magic, after all.
I could ease the tension a little, but I couldn't drop it entirely.
I leaned my upper body back against the arm propped behind me and slowly blinked. The darkening sky was beginning to hang a few bright new stars.
"…Cold."
Ssssshhh. The tall grass around me whipped violently in the wind.
Tap.
"……!"
A faint tap landed on the thin edge of my ear where it peeked through my hair. My eyes flew open by reflex and found only darkness—darkness that looked the same whether my lids were open or shut. Night, then… apparently.
But hadn't there still been a red tinge left in the sky just a moment ago……? There was no way it had gone pitch black between one blink and the next… right……?
The half-formed hypothesis kept stretching out, pulled thin by drowsiness. While I mumbled that I had to wake up, I had to wake up, my eyelids sank stealthily under the weight of the sleep demon. I was exhausted.
Thud.
Not long after, a dull weight began to land on my clothes as well. Even sleep-drunk as I was, this was past the point of ignoring.
In the end my lids lifted fully and my head rose. Tap. As if on cue, a fat raindrop smacked the bridge of my nose.
"Goddamn……."
There had been dark clouds off to the northeast, sure, but who would have guessed they were rain clouds—and headed this way, no less. If Deathbringer had been here he would have known ahead of time and we could have prepared. A pity.
"……."
No. I shouldn't call it a pity.
Choosing to leave him behind had been my decision, and the fact that we couldn't stay together any longer was karma he or I had brought on ourselves.
Yes. This was a perfectly just outcome.
"…Wonder if there's any place to get out of the rain."
I spoke the words aloud on purpose, trying to jolt my mind free of the fatigue piled up over eight days. It barely worked. Exhaustion from sleepless nights could only be cured by sleep itself.
So I left the haze alone and simply pulled the combat boots back on. My sticky eyes and trembling hands fumbled a few times, but the newly bandaged feet finally stuffed themselves into the boots.
Instead of sharp pain, a dull heat climbed up my legs.
Thud, thud.
Meanwhile the rain thickened, and the rising wind hammered my whole body. Maybe it was the open plain, but the wind felt especially fierce. Flap-flap. The three tails of my coat snapped and whipped through the blue-black air.
"…Good thing I didn't bring Frederick."
If I had, I wouldn't have been able to take care of him properly right now. Not just today—every one of the last eight days.
Leaving him there had been the wise choice after all. I praised past-me for it as I raised a hand. The rain, now so heavy it made opening my eyes hard, was blocked by my palm and streamed down under my collar. A slight shiver ran through me.
Still, moving had to be better than just sitting here getting soaked. I forced my leaden legs forward, step by careful step.
Squelch. The fact that luck refused to cooperate had nothing to do with me.
"Hah."
Without even the strength to curse, I wrenched my foot free of the mud. It wasn't the current rain that had made the ground this boggy; the area seemed damp to begin with… but this wasn't a swamp, so why the hell was it this sticky?
I shook the thick mud off my boots.
Ssshk.
Continuing this way was clearly a bad idea. I backed up, searching for a path of retreat. That I couldn't find one because I couldn't see a damn thing was, again, not my fault.
"…Wonder if lighting a lantern would give me away."
With my muddled reason I waged a fierce internal debate over whether to take out the lantern.
I knew it might give pursuers something to zero in on, but the combination of night and rain was pure poison for visibility, so I had no real choice. At this rate I'd die of exposure before anyone ever caught me.
"Please don't let them notice."
With rain this heavy the light shouldn't carry far, at least. Clinging to that thin hope, I finally hung the magic lantern at my waist.
The illuminated circle wasn't wide, so my field of view stayed limited, but it was better than before. At least I wouldn't step into a bog I couldn't see.
Whoooosh.
The lonely night, filled only with the roar of the downpour, soaked the path in a chill silence.
"……."
Just walking like this was going to wreck my mental health.
I was instinctively certain of that and cast about for something to occupy the time. Luckily a few topics presented themselves.
Roughly… the worries I hadn't finished sorting out before I dozed off. The pursuer problem, what to do from here on out—those headaches.
The former was already done. Yes, I'd fallen asleep mid-thought, but honestly even if I'd kept going there was no real solution waiting to be found.
The latter, though… was a topic I really needed to tackle soon. The excuse that the pursuit had kept me too busy was already wearing thin—if I absolutely had to rationalize, I could claim that any plan cooked up on four sleepless nights was bound to be half-baked, but still.
"…How am I supposed to live from now on."
I forced the words out just to break the quiet and turned the future over in my mind. It only made things feel more hopeless. The problem looked too answerless right now; that made it worse.
"Hah."
To cut down any chance of being tracked, I hadn't set foot in a single village or town these past eight days. The moment a silhouette even appeared on the horizon I veered hard the other way.
But how long could that keep working? I still couldn't light a proper fire, and my wild-foraging skills were pitiful. How long, exactly?
…I couldn't pin down the exact timing, but the day I would have to enter a city was coming soon. Even setting bare survival aside, the goal I'd run this far to achieve demanded it.
Obviously. Thoroughly examining this body of mine was going to require other people's help—whether that meant the knowledge they'd piled up or the memories of someone who knew this body's past. It would be necessary. Absolutely necessary. Someone in a city… or a village.
"……."
But when I looked at my own situation, a massive problem stood in the way first.
One: I was about to become a wanted man—not certain, but highly probable. Two, and worse than the first: I was a carrier of Demon Energy.
In other words, I could never escape the eyes of the temples. That was exactly why I'd gone so far out of my way to avoid cities and towns.
"Just imagining it already feels like shit……."
Calling the reaction oversensitive ignored everything that had already happened. The way temple eyes glared and followed the second I stepped into a village. The way people—mostly the Hero—could sniff me out from ten li away just because I carried Demon Energy. Scenes like that.
So of course the mental pictures that followed turned bleak. I quietly despaired.
"Fuck……."
But seriously, what the hell was I supposed to do? Far from any proper investigation, I was liable to get reported a dozen times over.
And what if the people who held the information decided I was something that needed killing and just kept silent forever? How was I supposed to dig out the truth then? At that point having pursuers on my tail would be the least of my problems.
I ran the worst-case scenarios ahead of time and got nothing but a choking sensation for my trouble. Not a pleasant feeling. The frustration sank a little deeper.
"So in the end the Demon Energy is the real problem……."
But I couldn't just give up because it looked hopeless. Fail to solve this and the road home would become extremely, extraordinarily, insanely hard.
"Damn it."
No, but seriously, how the fuck do I fix this?
I unleashed a Korean's national specialty—initiating—line after line while clawing at my hair. Whether it was the lack of sleep or the fact that the problem really had no answer, nothing came to mind. Just face-planting into a plate and dying sounded easiest.
"Hell, even a place I could rest my mind for a while……."
What wore me down most of all, though, wasn't anything else: the simple fact that I had nowhere I could safely think these thoughts, and no one I could talk them over with. Not a single one.
I finally understood why people who fled with neither house nor temple found it so crushing. I'd never once wanted to experience it firsthand.
Ssssshhh.
"……?"
Right as I kept forcing my sodden steps forward, a chill wind brushed my ear. It was subtly different from the rain-wind that had been blowing until now.
More than grass bending—something smoother and faster was moving…….
"……."
What kind of beasts roamed the plains? I rested a hand on my sword hilt as the thought crossed my mind. My spread-out sense still caught nothing. Nothing. Or was there?
Whoa mama. Yer a real knight, ain'tcha.
The presence appeared in an instant; I nearly drew on pure reflex. The only reason the blade didn't finish clearing the scabbard was that I identified the voice just as fast.
The half-drawn sword rattled back into its sheath.
…Nearly got myself killed, didn't I?
"…What is it."
You think you're the only one who jumped? I nearly shit myself too.
I forced that reaction down and sheathed the sword properly.
The hell are you?
A new voice cut in a moment later. The faint contempt and loathing under it stiffened my fingers.
You know that thing?
That thing. My lips twitched once at the word the newcomer had chosen. No sound escaped, but something I couldn't name definitely rose as far as my throat.
Yes'm.
…Explain.
Still… getting angry felt off. Judging by the way the voice carried, this being was probably the same sort as Sangun—an Ancient Beast, or something of that rank.
And if so, their dislike of me wasn't exactly strange. I did carry Demon Energy, after all.
Uh, well, see…….
In the meantime Sangun was explaining our connection to the owner of the voice. The events in the Great Forest, how I'd killed Biryuho and handed over the heart, the big stuff—plus, for some reason, the little detail that I'd bought him some dog-fruit snacks. Why bring that up?
Anyway, he's a real good person!
Still… the feeling wasn't bad. Yeah. This felt pretty damn good, actually.
I watched Sangun's tail thrashing around and felt the goodwill rolling off him the whole time he talked; the corners of my eyes softened just a little.
Really… it was fine.