The Human Hunter Kizzel (4)
Leaving the forest behind, a valley came into view. The smooth, polished stones rolling beneath his feet seemed to force the boy to adopt the same attitude as the flowing water. But Akasa could not. Ignoring the trail he was leaving behind, he pushed his already bursting lungs to the limit.
He passed through the valley and crossed the stream.
Beneath the ever-green pine trees, birds that had come to see off the dead—to lighten the burden of the departed—flapped their wings in surprise and took flight.
Was the sight of a child in a mother’s embrace a gesture of consideration from the one who followed?
Retracing every step of the path, he finally reached the campfire where he had spent the night with Hisoral.
Only then did Akasa let out his breath and his sobs.
He had shed enough tears while running, but now, like a broken faucet, Akasa continued to weep uncontrollably.
Urnil quietly called the boy’s name, then turned their gaze toward the surroundings. It was the consideration the boy needed.
It was unbelievable. The person who had been laughing and talking with him just a while ago was dead. The adult who had promised to protect him had kept that oath in the short time they had together.
Akasa knew the stories from old tales where young heroes died, unable to keep their promises of return.
In the stories he heard as a child, he had thought it would have been better if the heroes had returned.
He had considered unfulfilled promises to be a terrible thing.
But today, Akasa realized deep in his bones that the fulfillment of a promise could be just as painful.
Akasa realized his own situation with agonizing clarity. He was, in the end, a boy dropped into the strange land of the outcasts. He had to survive. That alone was a promise too heavy for him to keep, and yet—
'Live, my son.'
At the same time, those were the last words of his father he remembered.
Akasa made a resolution.
He would survive, no matter what. He would simply survive endlessly and keep that promise.
At Urnil’s words, Akasa nodded and stood up. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly.
Urnil cleared a path for the boy’s heart. Akasa spoke in a trembling voice.
"You couldn't save him, could you?"
"Right? Urnil?"
Urnil was the one who had cleanly healed even the wound where the wolf had bitten into the boy’s stomach, using only the Essence obtained from a few stones. Now, having accumulated far more Essence through the Sun’s Ferryman and the Red-Heart Tree, Urnil had enough to save Hisoral, even excluding what had been consumed.
But was that truth necessary right now?
Urnil added quickly.
Akasa sniffled and nodded.
"……Yes. I know."
Akasa nodded. Even though he had to avenge Hisoral, the pressure of having to kill someone still weighed on him. But Hisoral had no intention of leaving all that burden solely on the boy.
Akasa wiped his eyes with his palm and followed the instruction.
"This is……."
On the ground a little away from the campfire, there were foot traps made by weaving bushes, and sharp, carved wooden stakes were embedded in the ground everywhere. He hadn't even known they were there. Akasa had only been looking at the immediate vicinity of the campfire.
Fortunately, that was something Akasa knew. It was Oil-Water Grass. Plants that would burn surprisingly easily if ignited were secretly surrounding the campfire area.
Because Akasa had only walked on the paths he knew, he had never dreamed that even these things had been prepared.
This was the dying Martial Priest’s final gift.
"I will never let this go to waste."
Akasa began to move busily to prepare for the enemy. And the small god contained within the bracelet whispered advice to him.
* * *
The day passed, and the time of sunset arrived. Kizzel had not yet attacked. Urnil spoke to Akasa, who was hiding in confusion.
"Typical……?"
Akasa asked vaguely in a deep, muffled voice.
An advantageous situation. Akasa knew that environment well. He had once escaped by taking advantage of such an environment himself.
"It’s night."
Akasa looked up at the sky at Urnil’s words. Even though the sun had been shining just a moment ago, a gloomy energy was approaching from afar.
Thinking about what Urnil had said earlier, even with his young mind, Akasa could understand what that meant.
"The raid will come tonight."
Akasa nodded and quietly moved his stiff body to loosen it up. There was almost no noise. Even the sunset, which had been shouting red as if to prepare for the darkness, had fled.
In the descending twilight, Akasa meticulously examined the darkness of the forest. The darkness, different from the desert, greeted him strangely. No matter how much moonlight and starlight there was, the forest at night was as dark as if shadows were rising and walking.
Because of the dense branches and leaves, he couldn't see moving things clearly.
But he could hear well. Between the cries of small insects and the rustling of leaves, a very faint growl could be heard.
Urnil signaled. Akasa waited quietly. Until the sound came even closer.
"Grrrrr!"
"The scent is coming from nearby. Find it straight, you wolf bastard."
He felt as if his body were sinking into a swamp. It was the voice of the man who had been with the wolf. It was the first time he had heard the murderer’s voice. A voice too ordinary for a young man. But Akasa could feel the thick malice within it.
"Woof! A-woo-oo!"
The black silhouette of the wolf, howling aggressively, entered Akasa’s eyes through the dense branches. And the shape of the person next to it as well.
It was the moment Urnil said that.
There was a pop sound. It was a sound that not only Akasa but even the wolf that came with Kizzel could hear. But what surprised them was not the sound, but the light that filled the surroundings. Flames, defeating the authority of the darkness, flickered with terrifying heat. Fire that scorched the air suddenly erupted from all sides.
This was the arrangement Hisoral had made just in case.
In that short moment when Kizzel was surprised by the powerful light and the wolf recoiled, Akasa was already falling from the tree. His body, infused with Essence, protected him from the high-altitude fall.
"Hiyah!"
"Kuh!"
The sword, carrying the falling speed and Akasa’s weight, pierced through the wolf’s back and came out the belly. The soft body of the wolf acted as a cushion, so there were no major wounds on his body, but the dull impact shook Akasa’s frame.
Akasa pulled the sword down and hurriedly backed away, but he missed the handle. Once the deeply embedded sword was caught in the muscles, it was much harder to pull out than he had thought.
"Whoa, what a surprise. You were in the tree? Are you okay after jumping from that height?"
A chilling voice. Akasa looked at Kizzel. Perhaps because vital organs had been pierced, the wolf couldn't even whine; it was making a boiling sound in its throat and sticking out its tongue.
"Only good for filling the belly. Useless thing."
Kizzel swung the wooden stick in his hand, striking the wolf’s ribs and head. The wolf, trembling as blood gushed out, went limp. It was dead.
Kizzel grinned and looked at Akasa. At the same time, his hand moved quickly toward the wolf’s back. The wolf had fallen with its back to Akasa, and the handle was sticking out diagonally toward the ground.
At Urnil’s words, Akasa lunged. A downward strike, crashing down with force from above, flew as if to shatter Kizzel’s shoulder. Kizzel hurriedly stepped back, and Akasa’s strike hit the wolf’s body. A sound like hitting a wide board of meat exploded in his ears.
"Amazing. You’re not an ordinary kid, are you?"
Kizzel said, smirking with lips reddened by the firelight.
"You’re a kid who looks like he has excellent meat quality."
Goosebumps rose on Akasa’s arms. Akasa gripped the staff tighter and shouted.
"You murderer! Because of you, the mister died!"
"Ah, that guy. His meat really didn't taste good."
It was a situation where a boy, not even half his height, was confronting an adult with a staff. But Kizzel could not approach lightly. He was a hunter.
A hunter knows how terrifying cornered prey can be. Therefore, he should have subdued him in one go, but this time, he couldn't.
Akasa asked in a voice swirling with anger, fear, fighting spirit, and countless other emotions.
Communication was impossible. Even among those exiled from the land ruled by the monarch, Kizzel was someone who could never be integrated or understood. Akasa was flustered by a feeling of dizziness. Soon, Akasa realized it was because of excessive anger.
Urnil’s timely advice followed. Akasa took a deep breath to exhale the breath that had become as rough as the flames burning around them. Then, he finally opened his mouth to ask again.
"Why?"
"Hmm?"
"Why do you eat people?"
Kizzel looked at Akasa with a face that couldn't understand.
"Do you need a reason to eat something delicious?"
"Wha……t……?"
Akasa couldn't hide his shock.
They were the same species. That was why, even though he was an enemy trying to take his life, Akasa had believed he could find a reasonable motive for the murder. As someone who had been chased himself, he had wanted to hear even a trivial excuse that the fear of the pursuer had turned into anger.
But no. Kizzel was not the same kind of person.
That thing was an Exile.
The flames, fueled by the Oil-Water Grass, were gradually weakening. Kizzel opened his mouth at the edge, near the fence of fire.
"There were many who chased me before. Priests, soldiers, and so on. None of them could understand my cannibalistic habits. I think it’s funny. I am an Exile. I don't need norms, and survival is life and the goal itself. Is there a law that says you shouldn't eat humans?"
"Even beasts don't do that!"
Akasa shouted as if in desperation. Kizzel mocked Akasa’s words.
"Really? Isn't it that you don't know? Can you be sure that a beast in extreme hunger wouldn't tear into the corpse of its companion?"
Akasa could not answer. Even the god protecting the boy had no words for that question.
"You are like me, kid."
Akasa retorted furiously.
"Don't make me laugh! Someone like you, a murderer, and me……!"
"Puhahahaha!"
Kizzel laughed. Akasa, who had been speaking, stopped in surprise. The laughter, which erupted so clearly that one couldn't believe it belonged to a murderer, soon reached the point where he was bending over. Even when the laughter subsided, Kizzel continued to chuckle for a while, his shoulders shaking. Akasa felt something burning inside his heart.
"What’s funny?"
"Haa, ha, interesting. You really are a kid."
"I asked what’s funny!"
Akasa shouted at the mismatched answer. Then Kizzel opened his mouth, spinning the wooden stick in his right hand.
"Look here, kid. Curious why I said we’re the same? Then I’ll tell you."
Kizzel added with a grin.
"You were abandoned, too."