The Cursed Tribe and the Warrior Who Dreamed of Salvation
"Uh, u-um… wait! D-do you, wanna w-wash up t-together? We probably won't have many chances to talk just the three of us like this anymore… s-so if you keep watch for us…?"
Selina's face flushed redder than an apple as she made her shocking proposal. Adelin Aynis gaped in shock, her mouth hanging open as if to prove the conversation had utterly derailed, trying to process if she'd heard right.
And then… I worried that backing down now might mess up the dynamic we'd had so far—one where they'd shown zero interest, shoving me away even harder whenever I approached. After pretending to mull it over for a moment,
"Sure, whatever. I was planning to wash up anyway—works out fine."
I casually stripped off my outer layers and slipped into the pond first. What started with her utterly out-of-left-field suggestion became a done deal, reality setting in as Selina waded in with a rough white cloth, Adelin staring blankly at her before half-losing her mind and following suit.
Splash!
The pond water was chillier than expected. The three of us instinctively kept a set distance apart, claiming spots along the edge. For a long stretch after, only the occasional chirp of crickets echoed over the moonlit ripples. No one could bring themselves to speak first amid the awkward silence.
That was when it happened.
"U-um, Kail."
Selina finally broke the suffocating tension.
"This just popped into my head, but… does mixed bathing like this hold any special meaning on the continent? Y'know, between men and women?"
It was a completely random question. I answered without a second thought.
"Doesn't seem like it."
"Oh… I see…"
Selina hugged her knees, staring at the water's surface.
"In Talian, bathing mixed with the opposite sex—or another race—is taken pretty seriously. Like a vow to protect them no matter what… something along those lines."
"…"
She cautiously turned, gauging my reaction. Her silver cat ears, damp with water, perked up, betraying a mix of anticipation and anxiety.
So what's your angle here?
Was she thinking this was me vowing to protect her? Or her vowing to protect me? Either way, it was exhausting nonsense. I drew a firm line.
"Not why I got in, so get your head straight, Selina."
Her ears flattened against her head at my unhesitating reply, and she deflated instantly.
"Ah… yeah, sorry…"
They stuck flat to her skull, and she dunked half her face into the pond without another word.
Glug, glug.
Tiny bubbles rose and popped on the surface.
"…"
"…"
Heavy silence blanketed the pond again. After some more time passed,
Adelin, who'd been half-zoned out with her face submerged, hesitantly spoke up.
"When you meet Daren… what do you plan to do?"
Her iridescent eyes stayed fixed on the water.
"You've probably sorted your thoughts by now, at least roughly."
"…Who knows."
I'd settled on Daren the great warrior's fate enough to give a firm answer, but for some reason, the words stuck in my throat. I brushed it off vaguely.
"Haven't nailed it down yet. But based on what we know… yeah, I'd have to kill the guy."
"…"
"A great warrior worshiping the demon race? He'd be as tricky and dangerous as any of the Seven Demon Lords."
Adelin let out a small sigh and nodded at my calm statement of fact. She knew his power better than anyone, so she didn't argue.
Ten minutes or so later, the tiring talk wrapped up. No reason to linger in this weird, awkward vibe any longer—I figured it was time to head out and started to rise.
But right then,
Adelin and Selina had crept right up to me, gently grabbing my arm and wrist from both sides.
"Wait, just a bit longer…"
"Can't we talk a little more? It's been so long since it's just been the three of us…"
Their hands, soaked from the pond, touched my skin. I scowled, glancing down at the two women alternately.
Beneath their water-dotted lashes, their upturned eyes gazed at me—brimming with the same intense guilt and regret as always, and a desperate yearning for atonement.
Ah.
The moment our eyes met, something bubbled up unbidden in my gut, beyond my control.
These people who'd shoved me into the depths of hell, deceived and ignored me utterly. Who'd left even Raysilla with wounds too deep to heal easily. Now offering that nauseating, affectionate gaze.
As the vile remnants of that past flickered before me, long-suppressed disgust and vengeful fury surged wildly once more.
No time to think rationally.
My hand moved on its own, control lost.
Slap—!
"Eek!"
"Ah…!"
Painful groans sounded, but I didn't care. I stepped out of the pond as if to say don't grab me again, dripping water everywhere. I threw on my outer clothes haphazardly over my wet body and looked down at the two collapsed on the ground.
"Know your place. Our relationship hasn't changed since that day two years ago."
"Ka, Kail…"
"Above all, it's disgusting. Truly."
With that, I turned without regret and headed back to camp.
…
In the cold center of the pond, Selina and Adelin stared at Kail's retreating back, then blankly at their own hands, flung away into the air.
The backs of their hands swelled red and burned, but they couldn't even whimper. Physical pain was nothing compared to this.
Kail's gaze as he'd looked down at them. That brutally shattered stare, filled with contempt and loathing—it was his true feelings, slicing their hearts like a blade.
"Hic…"
Selina broke first. She swallowed a choked sob and dunked herself head to toe into the pond.
Splash—!
When she resurfaced, her face was drenched. Transparent liquid streamed endlessly down her silver hair—was it tears or just clean pond water? Even she couldn't tell, soaked through completely.
Adelin said nothing, leaning limply against the small rock where Kail had sat. The ruler of the Magic Kingdom, once the haughtiest mage of all. She couldn't even cry aloud, just hung her head powerlessly, letting droplets fall—drip, drip.
A full moon larger than usual bathed the Diben tribe in bright light that night. In the center of the massive tomb where the last of the barbarians slept, Great Warrior Daren sat slumped, staring blankly at the moon. His wife approached cautiously.
"Daren… how's your leg?"
"……"
He glanced indifferently at his right leg, sensation long gone, then looked at her.
"No more fighting for me—unless I use that, maybe."
"I see."
"How're the kids, Eris?"
"…Still not good. The Bottomless Hunger Prison and Greedy Erosion Fall curses left by the monster children are only getting stronger."
"I… see."
Daren took in his wife Eris's face a moment longer with a lonely expression, then turned back to the round moon in the night sky.
And sank into deeper thought than anyone else.
In the end, even after all this effort, is the curse's chain inescapable?
Most believed the great barbarian tribe had simply failed to adapt to the times, dwindling naturally to extinction.
But the truth was far different.
What dragged them to ruin was none other than Bottomless Hunger Prison and Greedy Erosion Fall. A curse trapping them in endless, unfillable starvation, and a twisted predation where the body weakened further with every bite devoured.
Unable to endure the infinite hunger, the barbarians lost their minds and tore into their own kin. Devouring their own only hastened their pathetic downfall, bodies crumbling weaker still.
In that hellish slaughter, only the half-barbarians untouched by the curse escaped the horrific paradise.
They resettled in the harsh northern continent lands, becoming the Diben tribe of today.
For a time, the Diben seemed to forget the nightmare, living peacefully in their new home.
But decades ago, the cursed bloodline remnants—thought fully eradicated—reawakened in the tribe's children.
Mutated into an even stranger form. Those afflicted took on demon-like traits, sating their ravenous hunger only with fresh human blood and mana.
Even feeding couldn't escape fate. Greedy Erosion Fall persisted: the more blood and mana they consumed, the faster their bodies rotted and withered.
Don't eat and go mad; eat and watch your flesh crumble. An agonizing dilemma, a true hell.
The tribe withered once more. He had to watch even his own blood turn monstrous, gasping for breath.
In that despair, the sole freak perfectly fused with the curse, suffering no backlash: Great Warrior Daren.
You won't hear this, Kail, but by way of excuse… that was all we—no, I—could do.
Daren's eyes, fixed on the moon, sank into the darkness of the past.
To save his children writhing nightly in agony, skin tearing; the villagers slowly withering and twisting.
Before becoming the comrade of Kail, who called himself a hero. Long ago, he'd knelt before Harennes—already allied with the Demon King and Seven Demon Lords—begging for a deal. That desperate memory squeezed his heart with guilt once more.
