The sound of snow being stepped on rang out.
As you step on the pure white snow and move forward, at some point the snow field is not as pure white as it is. The snowy field was stained with dark red blood. Blood and flesh. And a broken weapon.
If you walk along the blood stream.
If you follow the corpses of your brothers lying around.
There is ‘it’ at the end of the walk.
It is chewing and swallowing something while making a crunching sound. Blood and saliva flowed from its wide open mouth.
Geek.
The thing that was chewing up and devouring the human slowly raised its head and looked at Lark. Lark also looked at it. He engraved its appearance in his eyes.
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The left half of the body is covered in fur.
The right hemisphere is a mixture of all kinds of living things.
The only thing intact is a half-body, but that makes it even more bizarre. There was something there that was neither an animal, nor a human, nor a demonic beast. Every time it moved its mouth, sticky blood dripped onto the floor.
black beast.
Barta, the king of demonic beasts.
Lark slowly closed his eyes, remembering that nightmare-like existence in his eyes. When I open my closed eyes, there is no snow or nightmare. What I saw was a familiar ceiling. The ceiling you see every day.
Just like that, Lark woke up.
Flash.
Lark blinked several times and slowly stood up. No, he tried to stand up. When he tried to exert force, his whole body screamed, so he could only bob his head slightly.
“If I move like that, will the wound only get worse?”
As Lark was moaning from the pain that felt like cutting his body with a knife, someone’s voice rang in his ears. Lark turned his head slightly to the side.
“Are you awake?”
Saint, Natida.
She was looking down at Lark.
2.
After waking up, Lark had to take some time to assess the situation. His body was wrapped in bandages, and empty potion bottles were strewn about on the shelf.
‘The body… can’t move.’
It was difficult to even lift a finger.
Well, I expected something like this to happen since I kept moving without stopping even though I was injured. Rak gave up on getting up and just turned his head to glance at Natida.
“···How long did I sleep?”
“I think it’s been about two days.”
Natida rubbed her eyes and let out a long yawn. When I looked closely, I noticed that her eyes were quite wide. Like someone who hasn’t slept in days.
“Don’t try to move. “You have to lie down all day today so you can move tomorrow.”
Natida laughed bitterly.
“It will take some time. “I’m not good at healing.”
She let out a self-mocking laugh.
“It’s funny, right? “She’s a saint by name, but the thing she’s worst at is healing miracles.”
It wasn’t particularly funny.
Lark is a wizard who learned from an eccentric professor who crushes enemy skulls with his bare hands. She’s a saint whose specialty isn’t recovery.
“······.”
Lark looked at my hands in silence.
Natida was holding Rak’s hands and infusing them with divine power. Lark felt a sacred power like an autumn wind, cool rather than warm, circulating through his body.
Natida said she has no talent for healing.
The broken body was recovering quickly. As a result of repeated heating, the damaged blood vessels and torn muscles were returning to full health.
“Thank you.”
“What. “I need to help you recover.”
“This is also like this…”
Lark took a deep breath.
Just because I fell asleep for two days doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what happened before. I still remember it when I close my eyes. Encounter with a beast. Brothers who died.
And, countless demonic beasts heading north.
When he saw the group of demonic beasts heading towards the castle wall, Lark felt something collapse inside him. Because I had a clear picture in my mind of the North becoming a sea of fire.
‘···While heading towards the castle wall.’
You become able to move your body.
A while later, when he was heading towards the castle wall, Lark was already half-confident in his heart. A lot of people would have died. Lark looked towards the inside of the castle wall, feeling as if it might collapse at any moment.
That a miracle happened.
That no one died.
And the saint who caused the miracle spoke calmly. It was thanks to someone excluding the commander from the battlefield. Those words made Lark feel like he had been saved, even if only a little.
“For protecting the North from a horde of demonic beasts.”
And, muttering, Lark added.
“… for making sure the brothers’ deaths were not meaningless. “I wanted to thank you for that.”
Thanks, Natida said.
Who is it thanks to? It probably meant himself and the warriors, including Oyakal, who stopped the beast. That single word was more precious to Rak than anything else.
“Is there anything to be thankful for?”
Natida smiled and answered.
“Fighting difficult battles and making battles easy were all done by Confucius. “I think all I did was clean up after it.”
Natida felt a little uncomfortable about being thanked. Because he always thought he wasn’t worthy of it.
“Things might have been better if Lord Kalt had been dispatched instead of me, or if someone else had come here.”
Rania had many talented subordinates, and Natida knew that among them she was not very good. She thought that Rania had killed her out of half-pity.
“If someone else had come…”
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“I am grateful to you.”
Rak interrupted Natida.
Natida blinked and glanced at Rak.
“I am grateful not to anyone else who was not there, but to you who protected the North when and where it was most needed.”
Lark spoke clearly.
Lark can’t say things back. Lark put exactly what he felt into his mouth and spoke decisively.
“Thank you again.”
Natida inadvertently burst into laughter as she looked at Lark, who wanted to lower his head, but couldn’t because his body couldn’t move, so he just nodded. Because it was quite a comical sight.
“Sorry for the serious tone…”
Lark just blinked at the sight of her laughing. Natida lowered her head slightly and her shoulders trembled slightly. Just for a moment.
“Huh, haa…”
She let out a long breath and smiled.
Unlike usual, an unaffected smile.
“If you think so… well, then can I ask for a little compensation?”
“Anything you can give me.”
Natida is the one who protected the pride of the warriors.
Lark answered in a serious voice, and Natida waved her hand, saying it was really no big deal, and stretched out her right hand.
“Five hours.”
“···yes?”
“Holy sword, five hours.”
In short, it was a request to be exposed to the light emitted by the first holy sword for five hours. Lark’s expression immediately cooled. Natida looked at Rak and slowly folded one of her fingers.
“Well, then four hours…”
“Whoa…”
“Han, can you no longer sigh? “You can ask for about four hours, okay?”
His appearance suddenly became servile.
Lark answered with a long sigh.
“I’ll just let you bask all day. Speak when you want.”
“Ha, all day?”
Natida’s pupils opened wide.
Heh, her lips slightly parted.
“2, 24 hours…”
Even just imagining it seemed like drool was flowing from between her slightly parted lips, as if she was having fun. Glancing at her drugged appearance from beforehand, Lark looked truly sorry for her.
3.
Fortunately, the bodies of the warriors whom Lark protected until the end were safely secured. When Lark could barely move his body, a funeral was held for the fallen.
A warrior among the warriors recognized by the Grand Duke.
A funeral to commemorate the deaths and sacrifices of those who knew pride and honor. She also arrived at a time when mourners were gathering.
Stand tall.
At her appearance, all mourners stopped. All attention was focused on her when she appeared at her funeral. With her eyes focused, she walked towards her coffin.
Rania van Trias.
There is no one who does not know her face.
Moreover, she participated in the funeral wearing a uniform that was like a symbol of a warrior. That means that he came here to pay his respects as a ‘warrior’ rather than as an acquaintance of Lark or Rania as an individual.
“······.”
She offered flowers in silence and bowed slightly in front of the coffin. The series of processes was so smooth and natural that it was not the body movements of someone who had done it once or twice.
After repeating it several times, I got used to it.
But familiarity never meant lightness. She truly expressed regret over the deaths of the warriors and paid tribute to the value of their deaths. Her head turned as she offered her flowers while everyone watched.
“Thank you for visiting.”
Lark was standing there.
Rania winked with a bitter expression.
It was a signal to talk after the funeral. As she passed by Lark, Rania lightly tapped Lark on the shoulder. It was her comfort as a teacher.
* * *
“It’s been a while, Professor.”
“Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve heard the word ‘professor.’”
When the funeral was somewhat over, Lark arrived at the reception room where Rania was waiting. Rania glanced at Lark and nodded her head.
“Has it been almost three years? He seems to be a bit taller too. It seems like I gained more muscle. “You’ve grown a lot.”
“It doesn’t seem like the professor has changed at all.”
It wasn’t flattery, it was real.
Even compared to three years ago, Rania hasn’t changed at all. What has changed is the atmosphere. Rania chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m a little young.”
during? Weren’t you in your early to mid twenties?
While thinking about that, Lark inadvertently remembered that ‘Raniel’, not Rania, was twenty-eight years old just before retirement. Well, even if you can’t do it now…
“Definitely, the appearance of someone in their 30s…”
“It’s not?”
“yes?”
“No.”
Rania cut off Lark’s words like a knife.
That voice was even chilling.
As if someone had hit the nail on the head.
“I’m not in my 30s.”
“yes···?”
“Lark, what am I called in public?”
“You are called a warrior, the strongest warrior.”
“Not that, my name.”
“Rania van Trias?”
“okay.”
Not Raniel, but Rania.
“I’m not in my early twenties, but in my mid-twenties. “It means you are definitely not in your 30s.”
No, but that’s still a bit much.
This was the moment when Lark was about to retort something. For the first time in a very long time, Lark’s intuition rang an alarm. My intuition, strengthened as I reached the level of a superhuman, was saying this.
Shut up.
If that’s the case with the professor, then that’s it.
Have we forgotten that refuting means death?
It’s an iron rule that I’ve forgotten since I haven’t had to face it in three years. Lark shook his body slightly and nodded.
“Yes, that’s right.”
The professor is in his mid-20s.
Only then did Rania nod with satisfaction.
She said, ‘Sometimes when I look at the Raniel van Trias document at the library, it says he is 31 years old. Is that incorrect information? ‘I’ll always be in my 20s.’ She muttered… but Lark decided to pretend not to hear that muttering. There are some stories in the world that are beneficial not to hear.
‘···But why do you look at your own documents?’
Although he had more than one question, he decided to ask it quietly and move on. Because my intuition was telling me that it was better to do so.
fantasy,
