The Fool
Ever since they arrived in Limis—no, perhaps even long before that—Jing had made a single resolve. No matter what happened, he would not blame Ratel. And even if they came face-to-face, he would never lose his temper.
—Take up the sword and plunge it in!
But the moment he followed that voice's command and plunged Sierra's Sword into the black mass, Jing had to retract every single one of his resolves. As the strength drained from the deepest recesses of his body, seeping out from between his very muscles, Jing spat out a curse—a rare occurrence for him. Even as he lost consciousness, the image of the reckless fool who had initiated this madness flashed through his mind, forcing him to make a brand-new vow: The moment I open my eyes and see Ratel again, I am going to smack him hard on the head.
"Squeak!!! Squeak!!!"
However, it was Jing who got smacked first. Feeling a tiny hand tapping firmly on his forehead and soft fur tickling his face, Jing slowly opened his eyes.
"Squeak, squeak!!!"
As Jing blinked, the face of a tiny squirrel filling his entire field of vision welcomed him.
"Squeak, squeak, squeak!!!"
Jing frowned, thinking that while he had no idea what it was saying, it was clearly overjoyed to see him. He raised a hand to gently push El out of his face, only to realize that his body was suspended quite high in the air.
"What in the..."
Feeling an unpleasant sensation as if someone were hoisting him up by the scruff of his neck, he looked behind him. A dagger was driven deep into the wall, pinning his clothes firmly to it. What on earth is this? His confusion was quickly resolved when he spotted Lia dangling to his right. Just like him, she was suspended in the air, the collar of her clothes pinned to the cave wall. Unlike Jing, however, she was still unconscious.
"What kind of brainless idiot..."
He looked around to find the face of the thoughtless bastard who had hung human beings up to dry like salted herrings.
"Squeak, squeak, squeak!!!"
It was El's tiny hand that stopped him. With a roughness that belied its size, the squirrel began tugging at Jing's hair.
"Ouch! Kid, you might not understand this, but for humans around my age, every single strand of hair is precious—"
He was calmly explaining the value of human hair to El when he suddenly trailed off. The squirrel had grabbed his face and forced him to look in a certain direction. There, rising from the massive mound of flesh on the floor, was a strange protrusion. Though it was made of the same black mass, it was writhing much more violently than the rest of the mound, as if trying to swallow something whole. Realizing that the height of the protrusion was roughly half that of an average man, Jing didn't waste another second.
He yanked out the dagger holding him up and threw himself downward. The black flesh squirmed, trying to snag his legs as he landed, but its sluggish movements were no match for his agility. Reaching his target in an instant, Jing slashed the black mass with his dagger. It split in two for a brief second, but quickly squirmed back together, sealing the wound.
Jing clicked his tongue, sliced the mass open once more, and thrust his hand inside. Pushing past the slimy, clinging substance that wrapped around his arm, he reached deeper until his fingers finally brushed against a solid, skeletal human frame. It was indeed a person. And he had a very strong suspicion about who it was. Grabbing what felt like a shoulder, Jing pulled with all his might.
But with half the body already submerged and a persistent downward pull dragging it deeper, pulling him out was no easy task. To make matters worse, the squishy ground beneath Jing's feet kept sinking, making it increasingly difficult to find proper leverage.
"Damn it, wake up!"
Jing yelled, pouring all his strength into the hand gripping the shoulder. The moment his shout echoed through the cave, the shoulder in his grasp flinched. Realizing the person trapped inside had regained consciousness, Jing's face lit up.
"If you're awake, help me out here! You don't want to die like this, do you?!"
The shoulder squirmed, and then suddenly shook Jing off. The recoil sent Jing stumbling backward. As his hand slipped free from the black mass, a brilliant light erupted from within the mound. The squirming black flesh writhed and split apart as if in sheer agony.
As the black substance receded like thick soup, the figure inside finally revealed himself, and Jing let out a sigh of relief. A face framed by messy black hair slowly emerged. The aura of light radiating from his hands gradually faded, plunging their surroundings back into darkness. Yet, even in the dim cave, his golden eyes shone with piercing clarity.
Though his face was pale, suggesting he was utterly exhausted, he otherwise seemed perfectly fine. He wasn't bleeding, and all his limbs were intact. Seeing him in such surprisingly good shape made Jing feel a bit foolish for worrying so much, leaving him with a tangled mess of relief and exasperation. Then again, seeing that the boy didn't have a single scratch on him made him want to laugh, so perhaps relief won out after all.
Jing reached out to the boy, who was still standing in the middle of the black mass.
"Don't just stand there dazed. Come over here. We need to get up to somewhere safe."
Ratel's eyes tracked Jing's outstretched hand. But he made no move to take it. His cold gaze drifted away from Jing as he took a step forward—but not toward him. Instead, taking a step back from Jing, Ratel raised the sword he was tightly gripping. Only then did Jing realize that the weapon in his hand was Sierra's Sword.
"Hey, Ratel. You look exhausted. Stop this and get out of there."
Jing called out to him again, but Ratel moved as if he were completely deaf. Since Ratel had far better hearing than Jing, there was no way he hadn't heard him; this was a blatant snub. Ignoring Jing entirely, Ratel plunged the sword straight back into the black mass. Jing knew all too well how agonizing that experience was. At the same time, he finally understood why Ratel's face had been so pale.
"Ratel. I know you're in a hurry, but pushing yourself like this when you're already running on empty won't achieve anything. You need to rest, even if it's just for a moment."
But Ratel merely stared silently at Sierra's Sword. Watching the black flesh surge around the blade, Jing realized the boy was forcing his power out. Comparing it to how the black mass hadn't even budged when Jing had exhausted all of his own strength, he could tell just how absurdly massive an amount of energy was being drained from Ratel. If left alone, the boy might actually die.
"Damn it all."
To stop this lunatic's madness, Jing lunged forward and grabbed Ratel's hand, which was still gripping Sierra's Sword.
"I told you to let go of this!"
But Ratel wouldn't let go. If anything, he only tightened his grip on the hilt.
"Squeak, squeak!!!"
Having scrambled down from somewhere, El scurried up Jing's arm and onto Ratel's shoulder, squeaking frantically right into his ear. Despite everyone's desperate efforts to keep him alive, Ratel never hesitated to throw his life on the line. Always.
A vein throbbed on Jing's forehead. The new resolve he had made earlier had long since vanished from his mind. But whether he remembered it or not, the outcome would have been the same: Jing was going to smack Ratel on the head.
Thwack!
A crisp, satisfying sound echoed as Jing's fist connected with Ratel's head. It was a knuckle-strike to the crown of the head—a blow he had never even dealt to his own son. Driven by sheer, unadulterated force, the hit finally made Ratel look up at Jing. It was by no means a light tap, so the pain must have been considerable. Meeting the sheer irritation burning in Ratel's eyes, Jing took a deep breath.
"Didn't I tell you it was dangerous?!"
"..."
Startled by Jing's roaring anger, Ratel merely stared at him blankly, unable to spit out his usual sarcastic remarks. But Jing had no intention of stopping there.
"Do you not even understand the basic fact that your life is precious?! How many times do I have to tell you? Stop doing dangerous things!"
As he watched Jing vent his long-brewed frustration, Ratel's lips parted slightly.
"You said you wouldn't get mad..."
He mumbled, highly uncharacteristic of him, making Jing scowl.
"What was that?"
At Jing's sharp question, Ratel snapped back to reality.
"What do you think you're doing all of a sudden?"
Returning to his usual expressionless self, Ratel glared at Jing, his face hardening.
"That is my line."
Normally, Jing would have sighed and taken a step back, but not today.
"You didn't even keep your promise to wait for me until morning! Why on earth do you never think about the consequences?! Are you that eager to die?!"
"What kind of crazy bastard wants to die?"
Ratel scowled, causing Jing to practically jump like a coiled spring.
"The way you're acting right now is exactly like someone who wants to die!"
Seeing Jing so worked up, Ratel fell silent, quietly staring at him. In that moment, he looked so much like a boy his age that Jing found himself lowering his voice.
Looking at Ratel was like watching a fiercely blazing fire. A flame that would eventually leave nothing but ash behind. What's worse, this foolish boy couldn't even tell if he was the fire or the firewood.
"...At least don't charge ahead alone like this. If El hadn't woken me up this time, we would have been in serious trouble."
Jing spoke in a softer tone, seeing a hint of reflection in Ratel's demeanor. But Jing always seemed to forget one crucial fact: Ratel was still Ratel.
"Even if you were here, it's not like you could destroy the holy relic. Why would I need to wait?"
Jing stared blankly at Ratel, who had just uttered words that were entirely inappropriate for the situation. The only reason he didn't get angry at such a blunt remark was because he knew Ratel's usual temperament. Having seen this wretched brat pick fights with people plenty of times, Jing knew that he wasn't trying to be provocative; he was simply stating what he believed to be a plain fact.
Still, being told to his face that he was useless didn't exactly feel great. While Jing was debating whether he should smack the brat one more time, Ratel continued.
"Don't worry. I don't die easily. I can keep going until the holy relic is destroyed."
Only now did Jing realize just how deeply twisted this young boy's mindset was. He cradled his forehead with one hand.
"Ratel, I feel like I've said this multiple times already, but please, open your ears and listen to me this time. I am not worried about whether or not you can destroy the relic."
Jing spoke as slowly and clearly as possible so that this fool of a boy could understand.
"The one I am worried about is you. Not just me, but Lord Ran, Lia, and even this tiny squirrel—we are all worried that you might get hurt."
Ratel seemed to have heard him.
"And like I said, even if I get hurt, I heal quickly."
The problem was, he had only heard the words, without understanding a single thing.
"Squeak..."
El's dejected squeak perfectly mirrored the exhaustion in Jing's heart.