“It doesn’t look like they’re pursuing us right away.”
Muryeong said in a low voice.
It was the sort of sensation one could feel without looking back.
The forest was quiet.
It was not quiet because there were no sounds.
The things that should have been there were missing.
No chirping insects, no birds crying in the distance.
Only the sound of wind brushing the leaves remained, as if forcing itself into every gap.
The cloth between Melanie’s fingers was growing damp little by little.
Without slowing his pace, Rangnan glanced at Melanie.
Melanie was pressing one hand to his abdomen,
and his breathing was shallower than usual.
“Can you keep moving?”
Rangnan asked.
Melanie forced the corners of his mouth up.
“It hurts like I might die.”
After taking a breath, he added,
“But I won’t die right away.”
He tried to make it sound like a joke,
but the end of his words trembled faintly.
Beneath Melanie’s clothes,
there was a mark seared hard into his abdomen.
A place where the flesh had sunk in.
Instead of bleeding, its color had changed.
Rangnan looked away and said nothing more.
Mendel quietly matched pace beside him.
There was the sound of him adjusting his grip on the waterskin again and steadying his breath.
Muryeong’s steps suddenly stopped.
He raised his head slightly,
reading the direction in which the forest wind flowed.
“Close.”
Rangnan shifted his gaze.
“It’s Miryeong.”
At those words, Melanie let out a short breath.
Mendel’s shoulders lowered a little as well.
They changed direction.
This time, they did not conceal themselves,
but moved toward finding one another.
Before long,
quick footsteps came from between the trees.
It was Miryeong.
She was the first to reveal herself,
and the first to make a sound.
“Hey—”
Miryeong’s gaze fixed on Melanie, and her words cut off midway.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Her voice sharpened.
Melanie shrugged.
As if trying not to show the side that hurt, he spoke deliberately more lightly.
“There was this lady knight.”
Miryeong narrowed her eyes.
“She was way faster than you.”
Melanie added with a laugh.
Miryeong’s hand flew out at once.
Then, with a sharp smack, she struck Melanie on the head.
“You think this is a time to laugh?”
Melanie frowned and said,
“Hey, I’m a patient right now.”
At that, Mendel cleared his throat,
and Rangnan nodded a beat late.
“We’ll talk later.”
At Rangnan’s words, Miryeong clenched her teeth and turned her head.
“Let’s find Bido first.”
As she said that,
Miryeong had already begun moving again.
Miryeong took the lead without a word.
Even without bothering to look at the traces left on the forest floor,
the scent remaining in the air pointed the way.
Instead of simply inhaling,
Miryeong drew it all in as though swallowing it in one breath, then exhaled slowly.
Wet earth.
Broken branches.
The short, hot breath left behind when a person had urgently kicked off the ground.
And over it,
another faintly mingled texture.
Bido’s scent.
And, very thinly,
a cold aftertrace.
It was different from the smell of metal.
Miryeong tilted her head more deeply.
“Mm.”
Short, like certainty.
She tilted her head several times, as though confirming the direction.
Her steps were not fast,
but there was no hesitation either.
“There was a fight here.”
Miryeong said.
“One side was heavy,”
“and the other was in a hurry.”
Aslo silently examined the surroundings.
There were certainly traces left behind, but no presence.
Miryeong read the scent once more.
After drawing in a breath,
she pointed a little farther ahead.
“That way.”
Mendel asked,
“Do you think Sir Bido is all right?”
Miryeong nodded.
“He moved in a hurry.”
“But still—”
She cut herself off,
and checked the air once more.
“There’s no scent of being chased.”
At those words, Rangnan’s gaze briefly hardened.
“Then he likely went to the promised place first.”
Rangnan made that judgment.
It was still too early to be relieved,
but it was enough to decide their direction.
“We’ll maintain our speed.”
At his words,
the group began moving again.
—
A small cave in the forest.
The inside of the cave was not as deep as expected.
Still, it was deep enough that the interior could not be seen from outside.
Bido and Erdin sat with their backs against the wall.
They caught their breath without speaking,
at a distance where only the sound of each other’s breathing could be heard.
There was no way to know how much time had passed.
Even the noises of the forest that had been coming from outside
had, at some point, stopped reaching their ears.
Bido opened his mouth first.
“…Will it be all right?”
Erdin turned his head.
“Pardon?”
“Whether it’s okay for us to keep waiting here.”
Bido’s gaze remained on the cave entrance.
There was no sign of anyone pursuing them right away,
but there was no certainty that it was over either.
Erdin thought for a moment, then said,
“If it’s Lady Miryeong, she’ll find us before we move.”
The words were closer to comfort,
but it was a judgment leaning more on experience than certainty.
Bido nodded.
But his expression did not ease.
His body felt a little heavy.
Each time he breathed in,
he still could not clearly tell where his own breathing began and ended.
Bido did not put that sensation into words.
Because for now, he judged there was no need to.
Bido absentmindedly rolled one shoulder.
The strap pressed into the flesh behind his back,
and that pressure felt strangely unfamiliar.
Only now did the fact that the box was gone feel real.
What had vanished was only its weight,
and yet the empty space felt heavier instead.
Bido tightened the knot with his fingertips.
As if tying it firmly would make things all right.
And yet,
each time he breathed out, a very faint “tremor” followed from his back.
Afraid Erdin might notice, Bido took his hand away.
He was not well enough to say he was fine,
and not enough had been confirmed for him to say he was not.
Then,
a sound came from outside the cave.
Footsteps treading on fallen leaves,
and after them—
a familiar voice.
“Hey.”
Bido stiffened,
then immediately rose to his feet.
“Bido.”
This time, it was clearly Miryeong’s voice.
A moment later,
Miryeong’s face appeared at the entrance.
“Good thing you were here.”
At the same time she said it,
Miryeong’s gaze turned to Bido.
Behind her,
Rangnan and Muryeong,
Mendel, and Melanie appeared one after another.
Melanie was still pressing a hand to his abdomen,
and Mendel was half a step behind him, matching his pace.
A short silence passed,
and Miryeong’s gaze lowered to Bido’s back.
Once,
then more closely.
“…The box?”
At that question, Bido spoke first.
“The sword I was originally using broke.”
His voice was calm,
but that was as far as his explanation went.
Miryeong’s eyes widened slightly.
Then,
her gaze went back to Bido’s back.
There was no box there.
Instead,
only one sword that should have been inside the box was quietly strapped there.
Miryeong closed her mouth.
Rangnan said nothing.
He looked once at Bido,
then once more at the sword behind his back.
There were neither questions nor judgment in that gaze.
Only silence,
accepting the situation as it was.
“Let’s go in for now.”
Rangnan said.
“It would be best to rest for a moment.”
No one objected.
—
On the other side of the forest,
the paladin’s party gathered again.
The two knights who had rejoined first gave brief reports,
and the soldiers then relayed the situation.
The words that they had lost them were repeated,
but Adel’s expression did not change much.
“The priest is coming.”
He simply said that.
With that one statement,
the atmosphere of the group settled.
Before long,
escorted by the guards, the priest appeared.
Adel asked at once,
“Can you begin tracking immediately?”
The priest did not answer.
He closed his eyes for a moment
and fiddled with the fragment of bone in his hand.
The priest placed the bone fragment he held in the center of his palm.
A small, white shard.
And yet inside it, there seemed to remain not light,
but an old heat.
His eyes turned red.
His fingertips trembled briefly,
and the priest slowed his breathing as if trying not to let that tremor be noticed.
Ordinarily, at this stage, it would grow faintly warm.
Heat like a single needle scraping the skin.
And that heat should gather in only one direction,
forming something like a “pull” within his palm.
But—
this time, there was nothing.
It was cold.
From beginning to end, the bone
was simply bone.
By now, it was a familiar task.
A procedure he had repeated countless times until now.
However—
nothing happened.
The priest’s face hardened.
He checked the bone fragment once more,
then shook his head.
“…I cannot find them.”
At those words,
Adel’s gaze fixed on the priest.
“What do you mean?”
“The holy relic is not responding.”
The priest said in a low voice.
“The target… is not being recognized.”
The priest could not continue and swallowed his breath for a moment.
The words “not being recognized”
sometimes did not simply mean “far away.”
He gripped and released the bone fragment again.
As if confirming the sensation left in his palm,
like someone trying to find proof that he was wrong.
“It may be outside the range.”
The priest added cautiously.
His next words grew even quieter.
“Or… it may be concealed.”
Those words blurred in the air,
unable to add “intentionally, by someone” to the end.
Adel’s gaze hardened even more coldly.
Concealed.
That did not mean a flight,
but that someone “could hide” them.
For a moment, silence flowed between them.
Adel did not understand those words.
And,
the fact that he did not understand them made him furious.
“I increased our forces.”
He said in a low voice.
“To reduce the variables.”
The priest lowered his head.
“And yet,”
Adel continued.
“you are saying we can no longer find them?”
His gaze turned back toward the forest.
Adel clenched his teeth.