Two days passed.
The forest around the abandoned house.
Erdin readjusted his pack.
The food they had secured was adequate.
Enough to last them a few more days,
but not so heavy that it would hinder their movement.
“This should be fine.”
Erdin spoke.
Miryeong nodded.
Her body had fully recovered.
There was no strain in her steps or her breathing.
“That ended faster than I thought.”
“Yes.”
Erdin glanced around once, then continued.
“There’s no good in staying outside too long for no reason.”
When the abandoned house began to come into view again,
the sound of metal striking metal came from the clearing ahead.
The moment Miryeong heard it, she knew who was there.
“They’re at it again.”
Bido and Melanie were in the clearing.
Bido had lowered her stance with her sword in hand,
while Melanie moved leisurely, her chain hanging loose.
Melanie noticed Miryeong and lifted her head.
“Oh.”
Then she said as if it were nothing.
“I’m hungry. Hurry up and feed me.”
Miryeong’s face immediately hardened.
“Make it yourself.”
Her words were short and tinged with irritation.
“Ah, how cruel.”
Melanie laughed, but she did not stop the sparring.
The chain moved and lightly knocked Bido’s sword aside.
Bido did not lose her grip on the sword entirely, but her balance wavered.
“Hey!”
Miryeong shouted.
“We’re sparring right now.”
“That’s why I’m being careful.”
Melanie casually parried Bido’s sword.
“See? She’s not hurt.”
Bido caught her breath and took her stance again.
She said nothing, but her gaze did not waver in the slightest.
Erdin quietly said to Miryeong,
“Let’s go inside quickly.”
Miryeong glared at Melanie for a moment, then turned her head.
“I’m not cooking.”
“Then I’ll do it.”
Melanie said with a smile.
“But I can’t guarantee the taste.”
“That’s even worse.”
Miryeong grumbled.
Meanwhile,
Aslo approached the clearing.
“That’s enough.”
It was brief.
Melanie withdrew her chain, and Bido lowered her sword as well.
Only then did Miryeong let out a breath.
“Food first.”
Melanie nodded.
“I agree.”
The air in the clearing loosened slightly.
Bido rolled her shoulder once,
and wiped the sweat from her palm.
It was a familiar motion, but she was always wary of that familiarity.
Complacency always came from familiar gaps.
Bido loosened her wrist and planted the tips of her feet again.
Then she traced back the sensation of the spot where the chain had grazed past.
The breath that had been late, the balance that had shaken,
the one empty beat.
She made a brief vow to herself that she would not make the same mistake twice.
Bido gripped her sword again.
In a moment when no one was watching,
she adjusted the strength in her hand a little deeper.
—
Inside the abandoned house.
The fire was lit in the place they had already used several times.
The ashes had been cleared, and the stones had been stacked again.
Even without anyone saying it, it seemed clear that this was not a place they would be leaving soon.
Erdin set down his pack and first opened a slightly damp sack.
Inside was the carcass of an animal they had just hunted.
Its warmth had not yet fully faded, and the smell was distinct.
“We’ll have to dress it first.”
Erdin spoke briefly.
Miryeong checked the sack placed beside it.
It was what they had been eating for the past few days,
so the amount of dried meat had noticeably decreased.
The grain sack was not so low that the bottom could be seen,
but they had reached the stage where they had to count what remained.
Mendel had fetched water.
Faint traces of repeated trips along the same path remained on the ground.
“Raw meat is difficult to keep for long.”
Erdin said.
“I know.”
Miryeong answered immediately.
Her voice already sounded as though the calculations were complete.
Melanie sat beside them and began to dress the animal carcass.
Her knife work was practiced, and she skinned it with skill.
“We’ll roast the legs and eat them right away,”
“and dry the rest?”
“Yeah.”
Miryeong said.
“We need something to eat now, too.”
“Sure, sure.”
Melanie deftly cut off the legs first.
Aslo sat a little way off, watching the range touched by the firelight.
His gaze seemed to measure their perimeter, calculating how far to illuminate and what to leave in darkness.
Bido was beside him.
Her sword was propped against her body,
and her hand did not leave the hilt.
Even after training ended, her posture did not relax easily.
Miryeong looked at her once and said nothing.
A thin porridge was slowly boiling in the pot.
There was not much grain.
So the grains appeared here and there, sparse, while there was more water instead.
It was closer to something that soothed the stomach than something that filled it.
Above the fire, the meat they had dressed earlier was roasting.
Each time fat dripped down, the fire flared lightly.
“Who’s going out tomorrow?”
Melanie said.
“I’ll go by myself.”
Erdin answered at once.
“We have enough meat for now,”
“so I think I only need to pick some fruit.”
Miryeong thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Fine, then.”
No one had given an order,
and no one had declared responsibility.
It had simply become natural to move that way now.
Miryeong flipped the meat and said,
“Let’s eat.”
At those words, everyone quietly shifted into place.
Mendel ladled out the porridge first.
The bowls were not large,
and the portions were divided moderately.
Erdin first set a bowl of porridge in front of Rangnan.
Then, in order, he placed bowls in front of the others as well.
Miryeong and Muryeong were given only bowls of roasted meat.
Miryeong looked at Bido.
“You’re half Haraya.”
“But every time I see you eat like a human, it’s kind of fascinating.”
“Ah… yes. I’m used to this.”
Bido answered as if it were nothing.
Melanie laughed and said,
“You’re all beasts, really.”
“Eating nothing but meat.”
The moment those words ended,
Miryeong’s fist drove into Melanie’s shoulder.
“Shut up and eat.”
“Ow, ow… yes, yes.”
Melanie was still laughing as she rubbed the shoulder that had been hit.
At that moment,
the corners of Bido’s mouth lifted ever so slightly.
It was a change so brief that even she did not notice it.
Mendel saw it and blinked.
“Lady Bido… I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”
Bido flinched at those words.
Miryeong withdrew the glare she had been directing at Melanie and glanced at Bido.
“You’re different from Aslo.”
She spoke as if grumbling.
“That one doesn’t even know how to smile.”
Melanie burst into laughter, and Erdin turned his head away.
The sound of spoons touching bowls and the crackle of fire continued.
Bido finished her porridge and chewed the meat once more.
And before she naturally set her bowl down,
she checked the position of her sword once.
Miryeong merely watched her quietly.
For now, that felt like the obvious thing for her to do.
When the meal was over,
Bido cleared the bowls and swept her gaze over everyone’s movements once more.
Without anyone needing to go first,
each person was doing what they had to do.
Even without coordinating it out loud, the order did not break down.
It had always been that way when she was with Aslo.
He moved first, and Bido followed after him.
She had never thought that method was wrong.
Now, it was a little different.
Even without someone standing at the front, this place was being maintained.
Bido briefly looked down at the sword she had leaned beside her.
The sword was still heavy, and the existence of the box in the corner was still uncomfortable.
That fact had not changed.
And yet, when she thought of this place, the first emotion that arose was not tension.
Bido went back out to the clearing.
The motion of gripping her sword had become far more natural than before.
Melanie corrected her posture once while passing by,
and Erdin briefly pointed out the position of her feet from a distance.
Aslo said nothing.
He merely nodded when the moment came for something to be corrected.
In that way, time passed.
Before they knew it, the sun had tilted beyond the abandoned house,
and the temperature of the air had noticeably dropped.
The fire was put out, with only half left burning.
Miryeong fell asleep first,
and Muryeong began keeping watch alone through the night.
There were no particular words exchanged.
It was an order they had already repeated several times.
Their surroundings grew quiet.
Bido counted Muryeong’s footsteps.
Once, twice.
When the rhythm that seemed like a rule returned, her mind settled.
Muryeong stood along the line where the firelight did not reach.
His ears moved first, and his gaze followed afterward.
When the wind brushed past, the blades of grass cried out, and distant branches shook belatedly.
Among those sounds, he distinguished human footsteps from animal ones.
Bido felt relief as she watched his back,
then realized that the relief would not last long.
So she tried to breathe even more quietly, more deeply.
Soon, only the sound of breathing and burning wood remained.
Each person returned to their own assigned place.
No one had deliberately widened the distance,
nor had anyone gathered closer.
Their places had simply settled that way.
Bido could not fall asleep easily.
Even with her eyes closed, the weight of the sword remained in her hand,
and she remained conscious of the direction where the box had been placed.
Nothing happened today, either.
Bido repeated that sentence to herself.
Even though they were words she clung to in order to feel at ease, they somehow caught in her throat.
Growing used to something resembled letting one’s guard down.
That peace now felt unfamiliar instead.
And that fact weighed on her strangely.
For now, she simply hoped that nothing would happen tomorrow, either.
And at the same time, she now vaguely knew what that hope was directed toward.