Wounds That Never Heal

“This is information about the slave trader I got from beating up that pursuer earlier. Take it and head to the imperial palace. Prove you’re a Sculpted Soul Master and ask for help.”

Dan stared down at the small scrap of paper that had fallen into his hand, then clenched his fist. The crisp sound of paper crumpling echoed sharply.

The woman had asked him to take good care of her. But he had no intention of listening, and Dan himself wanted the man dead.

So the conclusion was simple.

‘Adults don’t need guardians.’

He would follow the man, build his strength, and uncover his weaknesses until he came of age.

The standard age of adulthood was twenty, but in some cases eighteen was enough. Given his situation—having lost his entire family and needing to stand on his own—the latter standard would suffice.

His seventeenth birthday had passed just recently. One year left. The moment he became an adult, he could begin moving in earnest to kill the man.

Creak.

The old floorboards groaned under his steps.

The innkeeper, who had been blankly watching Raven ascend the stairs, finally noticed the new guest and turned her head in a hurry. With a cheerful “Look at me, spacing out like that,” she launched into her standard greeting.

“Welcome. Here for a meal?”

Dan shook his head.

“Ah, then a room? How many nights will you be staying?”

……How many nights had Raven said he would stay?

Dan unfolded one finger based on the information he had overheard and focused on the view through his Sculpted Soul. The black bird perched on the tree outside showed him the interior of the room Raven had entered.

Then his eyes widened.

‘……What—’

An unexpected sight—or rather, sudden information—made his pupils tremble with confusion.

“Here’s the room key… Guest?”

Raven had removed his upper garments, apparently to change the blood-soaked bandages, and was rolling up his pants to unwrap them.

The countless horrific scars covering his torso were shocking enough, but Dan’s gaze locked onto the wounds revealed as the bandages came off.

The injuries looked exactly as they had when first inflicted—blood still streaming freely, as if they had never begun to heal. Even the fresh scratches Dan himself had left during their earlier struggle continued to bead with blood.

‘His wounds… don’t heal?’

These were wounds that should have scabbed over long ago. The smaller marks scattered across his body also looked freshly made. There was no other conclusion: every injury simply refused to close.

‘I already knew he wasn’t ordinary, but……’

Just what was his true identity?

While following Raven here, Dan had observed and analyzed him more thoroughly than anyone. He already knew the man was somewhat strange to be called “human.”

After all, they had traveled an entire day without rest.

‘He never uses the bathroom.’

‘He doesn’t sleep.’

‘He doesn’t eat.’

That was why Dan had been certain tricks like ambushes or poisoning food wouldn’t work.

Skipping rest, sleep, and meals could be explained away for a single day, but the absence of basic bodily functions was incomprehensible.

As someone who had nearly lost Raven multiple times while tailing him, this sense of wrongness hit Dan especially hard. If he hadn’t been a Sculpted Soul Master—or if his soul fragment hadn’t been a winged creature—he would have lost the trail long ago.

And now this new information: “His wounds don’t heal.” Dan’s expression hardened.

‘Is he… really not human?’

But other races still ate and relieved themselves the same way. He had never heard of any species whose wounds refused to close.

“Guest!”

“……!”

“Finally snapped out of it? How can you space out with someone right in front of you!”

“…….”

“Good grief. Here’s the key. Go up and find the room with the matching number. You look exhausted—get some proper rest while you’re here.”

Dan stared at the key for a moment, then silently climbed the stairs Raven had taken, the growing suspicion tucked away in his chest.

‘……I’ll figure it out if I watch a little longer.’

There was still plenty of time.

Once inside the room, Raven stripped off his shirt and tied back his bothersome hair to change the blood-soaked bandages.

The exposed torso was a mess.

Covered in scars of every size, it looked even worse because of the fresh scratches from his earlier encounter with Dan.

The moment the bandages came off, blood welled up from countless places, casting a strangely heavy atmosphere over the quiet room.

“No need to rush. I can’t die anyway.”

Despite the heavy presence of the Guardian Spirit, Raven’s expression remained calm.

Not only could he not die, he would never run out of blood. His body, frozen in time, maintained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its blood volume, so blood loss posed no hindrance to his activities.

With an indifferent face, he rolled up his pants and began wrapping fresh bandages around his bleeding legs.

“It just hurts a bit and gets in the way, that’s all.”

……Silence fell.

The heavy air lingered as the quiet stretched on. The long silence continued until Raven finished changing all the bandages. Then a new message appeared, only to vanish abruptly.

A low, subdued voice echoed in his mind.

[That pain is the problem.]

The voice was thick with sorrow and frustration, heavy with complicated emotions.

Raven, startled by the sudden voice, rolled his eyes. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he changed the subject as if nothing had happened.

……More importantly—

“I need to win that bet with Death soon. Then I won’t have to bother gathering herbs.”

“If I cut off the injured parts and die, then come back to life, that should work.”

Honestly, cauterizing the wounds with fire would be faster and easier, but he simply didn’t feel like it. If he had to suffer burns anyway, dying and reviving was preferable.

“In that sense, Ancestor.”

Raven’s green eyes curved gently, filled with laughter.

“Can you give me a hint about your name now?”

“……Ancestor? Brother?”

There was no reply.

“Brother, are you… angry?”

“You’re really not going to say anything?”

“At least give me an answer……”

He had told Raven again and again to value himself more.

Offended by the blatant disregard, the Guardian Spirit fell completely silent.

After finishing with the bandages and putting his clothes back on, Raven lay on the bed and waited for night to fall.

He called out to the Guardian Spirit a few times at first, urging a response, but when none came, he eventually gave up and stretched out.

In the unfamiliar, awkward silence, he fiddled with the folded paper and let out a soft sigh.

‘I know I was wrong.’

In the past, when he had treated himself carelessly, the Guardian Spirit—who had sent countless messages telling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him to stop—had finally spoken with his own voice.

It had been when Raven kept dying and reviving to deal with annoying wounds, until Death finally blocked that method.

Unable to leave things as they were, the Guardian Spirit had spoken in a rather stern tone. Having witnessed Raven’s self-loathing after causing countless deaths by opening the Gates, he had said it to give value to someone whose self-esteem was at rock bottom.

[Child, I was a hero of the Mythological Era. I gave my entire remaining life to one thing alone, without placing value on myself or anything else, and died for it.]

If such a being began to love again, began to look at something else—

How great and heavy must the value of that target be?

[If you have no confidence in yourself and cannot feel your own worth, then think of me, who loves you.]

[……]

[Think of the value of the one whom even a hero of the Mythological Era—who abandoned even himself—now cherishes with all his heart.]

Though the firm tone might have seemed like a demand, it was clearly a request, an earnest plea.

It was his final move, his greatest effort to somehow give Raven value so he could live a human life.

Raven knew what it meant for the Guardian Spirit, who was reluctant to reveal himself, to say such things.

‘That’s why I’ve been restraining myself somewhat.’

Since he could no longer recover even after dying and reviving, there had been no more conflicts, yet that very fact seemed to have made him careless.

To make such a mistake.

“Ancestor.”

“Brother.”

Grumble.

It seemed he would have to wait a little longer for the Guardian Spirit’s anger to subside.

At least he still lent his eyes as usual—that was something to be grateful for. Rolling his eyes that saw the world so clearly, Raven unfolded the paper in his hand.

It contained the same information about the slave trader that he had given to Dan, filling his vision.

‘Good thing I didn’t kill him right away.’

It had been troublesome, but it was fortunate he had shown some patience, extracted the information, and then killed the man. After all, there hadn’t been much else to do while Dan dug the grave, and he hadn’t wanted to dirty the boy’s hands so soon. Regardless—

The face that had been furious, demanding why Dan had killed the man instead of letting Raven do it, resurfaced in his mind, but he ignored it and closed his eyes.

‘Thanks to that, I can leave Dan behind without any problems.’

So it was fine.

One day, Dan would forget “Raven.”

Even if the memories of “Raven” faded, the memories of the slave trader and the information on the paper would remain. The advice he had given would stay somewhere in the boy’s mind as well. That would become another path for the child who had lost his target called “Raven.”

Thinking of Dan, who had set his sights on killing him, Raven frowned again as he looked at the paper.

‘……I really should visit the imperial capital at some point.’

Something seemed to be wrong there.

Either the imperial authority had weakened, or there were those aiming to weaken it. Whatever the reason, the situation didn’t seem good.

If the Empire were solid, such scum wouldn’t be able to operate within its borders against its own citizens……

‘I thought it would last ten years, but it’s not going to collapse exactly after ten years, is it?’

The Empire’s fall would be troublesome.

Other small kingdoms were one thing, but if the Empire collapsed, the repercussions would surely spread across ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the entire continent. An era of war to rebuild power and national strength would begin.

‘……If war starts, most of the combat-capable forces will have to go to the battlefield.’

Naturally, the manpower available to deal with the Gates would decrease.

Since humanity was already struggling just to handle the Gates, fighting a war while closing them was impossible. If war broke out, the number of victims from the Gates would obviously increase.

‘That can’t happen.’

People dying in war didn’t matter much.

But there must be no deaths caused by the Gates.

‘I don’t want to, but since I have to go anyway……’

As Death had said, there was someone he needed to meet at least once, and to find information about the Guardian Spirit’s name, he had to go to the capital where the head of the information organization was located. Therefore, despite his reluctance, Raven decided that after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠visiting the Elven Territory, his next destination would be the capital.

‘Well then, time to move.’

Still lying down, he glanced toward the now-darkened window, then lowered his gaze to the crow dozing on the branch.

Yes, it was about time the bird got tired. Continuously using a Sculpted Soul was no different from using one’s brain without rest.

He had known the crow was watching him even after he entered the room. That was why Raven had waited until dark. Taking advantage of the moment the crow’s gaze left him, he grabbed the room key and quietly opened the window.

Since he had no luggage and nothing to retrieve from his body, there was nothing to get caught on. He stepped onto the wide windowsill and jumped out—only to meet the glossy eyes of the crow.

“…….”

“…….”

“Ah.”

……He had been caught.