The rain gradually subsided, and the eastern sky began to glow with a fish-belly white.
On the road outside the forest, the puddles from the rain had slowly seeped into the soil. But the stark red bloodstains on the ground weighed heavily on the hearts of Rudeus and Sylphie.
Alan had been gone all night. A whole night.
Inside the carriage that Alan had split in two, Sylphie crouched in a corner near the crack, staring at Alan's luggage beside the carriage. Strands of white hair were stuck to her face, her eyes unfocused.
She had experienced too many firsts this night.
The first time she had killed someone.
The first time she had faced a life-or-death crisis.
The first time... she had watched helplessly as Alan's neck was sliced open.
She had been thinking all night, was Alan's injury really okay? Was he just putting on a brave face? Would it have been better for him not to chase after the assassins in his condition? Her thoughts were a tangled mess. There were no answers.
The person who usually answered her questions was on the other side of the world, unable to respond. The other had chased after the assassins and had yet to return.
Alan... had not come back.
Why was she just curled up in the carriage? Because she was now afraid of blood. Ultimately, no matter how much she imitated Alan's calm demeanor or studied Roxy's expressions, she was still just a seven-year-old child. The journey of life had just begun for her. In the original story, she was someone who would have simply wailed when she was separated from Rudeus a few months later. How could she possibly cope with the current situation?
And when she saw the bloody organs, severed limbs, and shattered bone fragments on the ground, her stomach churned. Was it because of the corpses? But she had clearly tried not to think about the corpses, not to think about death, just sitting quietly in the carriage. Not thinking about anything. Just thinking about Alan's face.
Yet that only made her feel worse. Her stomach churned even more violently. Why?
No one answered her. So she could only hug her knees and stare into space.
Rudeus's reaction was the complete opposite. He sat on a nearby carriage wheel, staring intently at the bodies of the kidnappers he had killed with his own hands.
His reaction last night had been very fast. When he felt the carriage being attacked and realized he had to fight back, his first instinct was still hesitation. After all, at this point in time, Rudeus was even less integrated into this world than Alan was. He couldn't yet accept this 'isekai' life being suddenly mixed with dripping blood, the image of death laid out so plainly and gruesomely before him. And he had been the one to do the killing.
In the original story, he had always been reluctant to kill, always trying his best to avoid it, a behavioral logic that was particularly obvious before the Shirone Kingdom battle.
Then, while he hesitated, he saw Alan slice a kidnapper from hand to arm, piece by piece, like Zenith slicing potatoes. Finally, he cut off the man's head. It was so clean.
In that instant, reflected in his eyes through the rain, the shut-in recalled the moment in the snow valley when Alan had thrown him to Paul. The falling rain in his eyes seemed to turn into the snow of that day, and on the other side of the flurries and wind... was the moment just before Alan and Sylphie fell into the valley.
In that single moment, Rudeus's body moved. Action preceded thought. His magic swelled within him without needing much conscious effort, and his hand was already in front of his face without him needing to lift it.
Ice blades shot from his palm. Even through the heavy rain, they accurately pierced the 'kidnappers' around the carriage ahead. It was just like the countless times he had 'sparred' with Alan. Because only by improving his accuracy could he even touch the corner of Alan's clothes.
By the time he realized what he had done, those people had already fallen into the rainwater. It was only then that he realized that killing could be so simple, so free of psychological burden. In fact, after he had killed them and ran towards Alan, he felt he had 'succeeded'. This time, he certainly hadn't been left behind.
It was like the situation in the snow valley. At that time, Alan had saved him simply because he 'wanted to', so he did. High in the air, his body's movements seemed to outpace his thoughts. While he was still panicking, Alan had already made a choice. And this time, he chose to kill because he wanted to save them. In the rain, his body's movements also outpaced his thoughts, and the ice blades shot from his palm. He understood how Alan had felt then.
And then, his hand had grabbed at empty air again.
So now, he could only force himself to look at the corpses on the ground, to force himself to accept the 'aftermath' of killing.
As for worrying about Alan, he wasn't worried. He had already worried enough in the snow valley. After that worry, that dawning realization, that despair, after imitating Alan's interrogation and preparing to 'judge' himself by forcing Lilia, what had he seen?
He had seen the tangible image of death that was the entire snow valley. He had seen a lake of blood. The bodies of monsters bobbed up and down on the sea of blood. Alan had stood among them, holding his broken, chipped sword.
He had said only one thing. "There will be no monster tide next year."
So Rudeus believed in him. No matter if he waited here for ten hours, ten days, half a month, or longer. Alan would come back, holding the assassins' heads, and look at them.
And he would say those words. "There will be no more assassinations."
He was just that kind of person, a person who could say beautiful things. How could he die in a place like this? How could he die in a place like this?!
Rudeus slammed his fist on the carriage wheel beside him, jumped down, kicked a nearby corpse aside, and turned to speak to Sylphie. "I'm going to find Alan!"
Sylphie blinked in a daze, the light returning to her eyes. She looked up at Rudeus. "Okay."
The two of them stood up from beside the carriage and walked towards the edge of the forest.
A figure was already standing there. Her fiery red hair was soaked and matted, her clothes drenched, but she still held her head high, arms crossed, staring intently into the woods, her lips pressed firmly into a downward arc. Beside her, an exhausted cat-girl kept trying to comb her hair, only to be impatiently swatted away time and again.
"Lady Eris, please don't worry too much. They will come back. Lord Ghislaine is so strong, she will be fine."
Eris didn't speak, only glaring more intensely at the shadows in the forest.
Philip leaned against the carriage beside her, watching the forest in silence just like Eris. His face seemed calm, but his wide-open eyes, flashing with conflict from time to time, and the fact that he had stood in the rain all night without seeking shelter, all showed that the mayor of Roa was far from calm on the inside.
Rudeus walked past the three of them, glancing at Philip. The latter, noticing his gaze, met his eyes. Rudeus's lips parted as if to say something.
Just then, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps beside him. It was the sound of Sylphie and Eris starting to run at almost the same time!
Rudeus was stunned for a moment, realized something, and whipped his head around to look into the woods.
The dawn after the rain began to burn across the horizon. Two figures, one tall and one short, emerged from the edge of the forest. The fiery red light burned on their silhouettes, obscuring their faces.
Rudeus froze. He wanted to run, but his legs felt weak, and he ended up sitting on the ground with a thump. But in his eyes, the figure holding two heads was so familiar, so anticipated. Still accompanied by the image of death. Still so impossible to ignore.
He heard his own voice coming from his throat.
"Thank goodness..."
"Thank goodness..."
Sylphie stumbled as she ran to Alan. Before he could say anything, she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. The latter blinked, a little at a loss. Before he could say anything, a pair of small, cold hands touched the side of his neck.
The next moment, Alan felt the body in his arms go 'limp', as if she had confirmed something, and the tension that had been building all night finally relaxed. Then came the sound of crying, desperately suppressed, yet very clear, trickling into Alan's ears.
He froze for a moment, looking down at Sylphie's messy white hair, the strands catching the fiery colors of the dawn. It reminded him of the moonlight at the bottom of the snow valley.
Alan was silent for a moment, then reached out and hugged Sylphie, burying his head in her hair. "Sorry for making you worry."
The morning glow after the rain coated the two of them. It was reflected in a pair of fiery red pupils.
Whose gaze was that?
(Author's Note)
Even when I'm not in the mood, writing emotional scenes is still surprisingly fast. It's ridiculous. I guess that's the difference between what I'm good at and what I'm not. But it needs some setup, so there's a lot of stream of consciousness. Also, the fiery red pupils, that's definitely admiration. Eris doesn't understand romantic love at this point, don't read too much into it...
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