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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To ‌‌‌support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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Chapter 74
He tilted his head to one side. His damaged senses occasionally misfired.
He waited for the droning sound to fade before brushing past the Unknown Woman and stepping into ‌‌‌the Barracks.
Whether medicinal herbs had been burned throughout the night or not, the dim space ‌‌‌was thick with the acrid smell of smoke. Yet woven within it was another scent—strange and elusive, like fruit on the verge of decay. ‌‌‌
It was an odd fragrance that had begun emanating from her skin at some point.
He held his breath for a moment, then slowly drew in the air. Quietly, he called out to her.
"Talia."
No response came. Yet he could sense her presence.
His eyes moved busily as he stepped into the cluttered space scattered with bowls, wine bottles, and cups. Then he stopped upon seeing a heap ‌‌of clothing piled beside the disheveled bed.
He bent ‌‌down before a large chest placed to one ‌‌‌side of the Barracks.
As he carefully opened the lid, ‌‌a small form curled into ‌‌‌a ball came into view.
His body reacted strangely again. It felt as though his chest had been kicked by a horse's hoof.
He steadied the turmoil within ‌‌and placed his hand ‌‌upon her shoulder.
The Unknown Woman, who had buried her head upon her knees, lifted it.
Beneath her damp eyelashes lay eyes of pure blue untainted by any impurity—like those of a creature dwelling in the deep sea. Clear tears glistened across her translucent skin.
He cupped her damp cheeks and gently caressed her slightly reddened chin before tilting her withdrawn head slightly backward.
There were several thin scratches along her delicate neck, as ‌‌‌if she had been scraped against something. As he examined them closely, ‌‌a fractured voice spilled from between her blood-tinged lips.
"Did you... ‌‌defeat all the monsters?"
He gazed into the Unknown Woman's eyes once more.
Her submerged deep blue irises wavered precariously.
He recalled the first time he had met those eyes.
The day he had regained color—it was the first light he had ever seen.
A sensation of tightness gripped his throat. He drew in a long breath and lifted his rigid body.
Supple, soft arms wrapped around his neck as though it were the most natural thing. A thin whimper dampened his taut skin.
"I thought you were being taken again."
Barcas tightened his arms around her. ‌‌‌
Never again would that happen.
The words that had lingered on his tongue flowed back down his throat. Since the incident, he had found himself swallowing words constantly in her presence.
Those swallowed words accumulated like sediment in his belly, layer upon layer.
With a frown creasing his brow from the uncomfortable sensation of a stone pressing upon ‌‌‌his insides, he gently stroked her intermittently trembling, narrow back.
Her rigid body gradually relaxed and clung to him more softly. When he lifted her ‌‌‌head from ‌‌‌his shoulder to look at her face, he saw her eyes closed as though exhausted.
He smoothed her drooping golden eyelashes with his thumb, then adjusted her slipping body and quickly scanned the room.
He spotted a coat hanging on the tent's support pole. He snatched it and draped it over her body, then stepped outside.
As he quickly crossed the Campsite, several mounted warriors ‌‌who were busily dismantling the Barracks sent curious glances his way. He ‌‌‌‌pulled the coat up to cover her head.
Since she had been less than five cubits tall, the men had cast ravenous gazes upon her like starving stray dogs. And this woman, though she ‌‌feared it, sometimes exposed herself defenseless before their eyes—as though she welcomed being torn to shreds.
He pulled her closer against his chest and quickened his pace as if to shake off the irritating stares.
Once inside his own Barracks, he laid her upon the Bedroom ‌‌and noticed her body had become noticeably gaunt over the past several months.
A sigh caught in his throat.
What irritated him was that her emaciation was leading her beauty in a dangerous direction. As Barcas let his gaze ‌‌‌‌slip along her thin neck, ‌‌‌lean shoulders, and prominent collarbones, he turned his eyes toward the entrance of the Barracks.
The young Attendant who had followed him to serve was staring at her. His half-dead nerves suddenly sharpened to a point.
He dismissed all the attendants and firmly secured the entrance. It wasn't a particularly ‌wise decision. The barracks was now suffused with the sweet, intoxicating fragrance she exuded.
A strange thirst, as though his throat were parched, made him swallow hard against the dryness of his mouth.
As he roughly raked his damp hair back with an irritable glance, the pale cheeks stained with tear tracks burned themselves into his ‌‌‌vision.
Words she had uttered years ‌‌‌‌ago in terror echoed through his mind.
"He... he did that to me. As though addicted, I could only... I could only keep seeking him out..."
He bit gently at the soft flesh inside his cheek with his molars. A faint taste of blood bloomed on his tongue.
He tapped his temples lightly with his fingertips before retrieving the coat he'd left in one corner of ‌‌‌the room.
Upon stepping outside, the metallic scent of blood ‌‌‌filled his lungs.
As he ‌‌‌breathed it in deeply to cleanse the stale odor lingering in his throat, Barakan, now fully ‌‌armed, approached his side.
"Preparations are nearly complete. Once we clear your barracks, we can depart immediately. ‌‌‌‌Shall we dismantle it now?"
"In an hour."
Barcas, who had paused briefly, spoke in a subdued voice.
"We'll depart after taking a moment to rest."
A smile of amusement flickered across the nobleman's lips.
He responded with a light shrug and casual tone.
"As you command."
The man immediately turned to relay instructions to his subordinates.
Barcas sat upon a water flask, gazing out toward the Norden Plain, which lay faintly visible through the densely clustered trees.
A ‌‌‌dry wind swept harshly across his cheek.
A familiar scent drifted through the ‌‌air.
When had he smelled it before?
As he searched through the haze of memory, the distant howl of a wolf reached his ears.
He turned his ‌‌‌head.
A mournful cry stretched long from the forest's edge.
* * *
Her weakened body could not endure ‌‌the long journey and fell into continuous fever.
Talia, gazing up at the swaying ceiling, tossed ‌‌‌restlessly and breathed in shallow gasps. Though the carriage ‌‌‌‌moved at a pace scarcely faster than walking, even that faint vibration was torture to her.
Talia clutched her head as ‌‌‌‌a ‌splitting headache threatened to cleave her skull.
Then, a sharp horn blast sounded from outside. Had they finally reached their destination? She struggled to rise and peered out the window. Through her fever-hazed vision, the ‌‌‌vast expanse of the plains stretched before her.
At the unfamiliar sight, Talia's eyes widened. A deep verdant grassland stretched endlessly, as though touching the sky itself. A gust of wind swept violently across that lush meadow.
She opened the window and cooled her feverish face against the cool breeze.
"That is Kalmor."
At ‌‌‌‌the sudden voice, she turned her head with a start, and a nobleman riding alongside the carriage came into view. ‌‌He drew closer and offered a familiar smile.
"I am ‌‌‌‌‌Tyron. We were introduced before—do you remember?"
She kept her ‌‌lips firmly sealed, shooting only a ‌‌‌‌wary glance in his direction. The ‌‌‌nobleman's smile dimmed slightly. After a moment ‌‌of probing observation, the man, undeterred by her coldness, continued gently.
"You seem quite unwell."
"...."
"We should arrive at Laedgo Castle soon. Do you see the fortress walls there?"
The man pointed ahead.
Talia followed the direction of his ‌‌‌finger with her eyes.
At the horizon's edge, fortress walls of ‌‌‌‌ashen gray rose into view, as though sculpted from ash and sand. I craned my neck ‌‌‌‌out the carriage window to observe them more closely.
Laedgo Castle appeared as ‌if constructed from colossal boulders stacked ‌‌‌‌upon one another.
Thick outer walls, devoid of ornamentation, rose in unbroken succession around the base of the hill, and above them stood fortified towers and bastions of varying heights, their forms defined by nothing but austere, geometric lines. ‌
I found myself wrapping my arms around my neck.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming bleakness of the place where I would spend my days ahead. A chill crept up my spine.

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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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