Meruem did not leave Komugi's side for a single moment.
Using the cloth Edrin had given him, after carefully explaining how to use it, Meruem wiped the burning sweat from Komugi's forehead every fifteen minutes. The gesture had become automatic, almost sacred, as if stopping—even briefly—might worsen her condition. His movements were precise, controlled, yet behind them lay a growing urgency he refused to show.
To Meruem, Komugi now gave meaning to his existence.
He could no longer imagine a life without Gungi, without those silent matches where thoughts clashed more fiercely than fists, without this fragile human who had shaken the very foundation of what he believed himself to be. How could he continue to exist in the human world without her? Without this human who had affected him more deeply than any battle?
The cart suddenly jolted on the steep road, snapping Meruem out of his thoughts. The beasts pulling it instinctively quickened their pace to regain balance. Time was slipping away. Every minute felt heavier than the last.
Night eventually fell. Despite the urgency, the group was forced to stop briefly to let the beasts rest. A fire was lit outside, but Meruem remained inside the cart, seated beside Komugi. He did not move away from her.
Edrin returned shortly after, holding a water flask.
"Here… for the cloth."
Meruem nodded silently and took it.
After a moment of hesitation, Edrin spoke again.
"Let me take over for a bit… Meruem, right? May I call you that?"
Meruem replied without looking up, his voice calm and distant.
"No. It's fine. We will take care of her ourselves. Call us whatever you wish. It makes no difference."
Edrin smiled awkwardly.
"Ah… alright. Thank you, Meruem."
He gently patted Meruem on the arm—a casual, familiar gesture. Meruem turned his head, slightly surprised.
"Oh—sorry!" Edrin said quickly, pulling his hand back. "I hope that didn't bother you. We usually do that between friends. We are friends, right?"
The word lingered in the air.
Meruem did not answer.
But inside, his thoughts stirred.
Strange…
We could have condemned him for such an action. And yet… we did not. We even… appreciated it.
Friendship.
Among humans, it seemed to hold immense importance.
And Komugi…
How does she see us? As a friend? Or merely as a king?
The question rooted itself deep within him. At that moment, Meruem made a silent vow: he would do anything to hear the answer directly from Komugi's lips one day.
Edrin eventually left the cart, scratching his head with an embarrassed smile.
"I wonder if he really considers me a friend now…" he muttered as he walked away.
At dawn, the group was already back on the road.
A race against time had begun.
Edrin leaned into the cart, his face tired but resolute.
"Meruem, we're close. Just a few more kilometers."
"Understood…" Meruem replied absentmindedly.
His actions had become instinctive. He wiped the sweat from Komugi's face as she let out faint groans, each one piercing his chest like a blade. Yet he endured, unmoving.
His thoughts grew heavier.
She suffers because of us.
If she remains by our side… will her suffering only deepen?
Meruem, now seeking truth beyond strength, could no longer ignore this reality. Would Komugi truly be safe with him? With a being neither fully human nor entirely Chimera?
Until now, playing Gungi with her had been everything.
But now, her future weighed on him like an unfamiliar burden—one he could not discard.
Gradually, the scent of the sea reached them.
Distant voices echoed on the wind.
Seagulls circled above, crying sharply as they traced the road ahead.
The journey did not become easier. Several times, Meruem was forced to leave the cart to hunt down wild beasts that attacked the convoy. Each time, he returned immediately to Komugi's side, as if an invisible thread bound him to her.
The merchants hurried as best they could, driven by fear and urgency alike.
Finally, the port of Mitene appeared on the horizon.
Cries of relief broke out among them.
But the tension did not fade.
Not yet.
Inside the cart, Meruem watched Komugi's chest rise and fall unevenly. Her skin burned beneath his fingers, and her breathing was shallow, fragile. For the first time since his rebirth, Meruem felt something dangerously close to helplessness.
Strength alone could not solve this.
Power alone was not enough.
His mind returned to Aldebran's words, to the ancient seer who resided in Mitene, to the promise of Nen knowledge untouched by time. Hope, thin and fragile, clung to him.
Hold on, he thought silently.
Just a little longer.
The cart slowed as the terrain leveled near the outskirts of the port. Wooden structures emerged through the morning mist, accompanied by the sounds of ropes, waves, and human activity. Life continued here, unaware of the quiet struggle unfolding within a single cart.
Meruem adjusted the cloth once more, his movements gentle despite his strength.
"Komugi…" he whispered, a name that now carried more weight than any title he bore.
If she could hear him, if she could understand, he hoped she would know this truth:
That the King of Chimera Ants was no longer walking forward for conquest, nor dominance, nor destiny alone.
But for her.
And perhaps—For the fragile, unfamiliar bond humans called friendship.
As the convoy entered Mitene, Meruem lifted his gaze toward the bustling port, uncertainty tightening around his chest.
Whatever awaited them here would change everything.
And he was ready to face it.
Even if the answer he sought would reshape who he truly was.