Once they left Schia behind, the road quickly changed its character.
Human traffic dwindled,
and the dirt beneath their feet grew rougher.
The farther they got from the city, the lower the noise became,
and wind and the sound of water took its place.
Bido looked ahead several times before finally opening his mouth.
“...This is the right way, isn’t it?”
Miryeong answered without stopping.
“Yeah.”
Her tone said less that she was confirming it, and more that she already knew.
“It’s the direction people deliberately avoid.”
“So traces remain more clearly.”
Even after hearing that, Bido still did not feel entirely at ease.
“We already passed the worksite,”
Bido said.
“Is it really all right to go this far away...?”
Without turning her head, Miryeong said,
“If you’re doubtful, you can go back.”
Bido slowed for a moment.
“...No.”
The corners of Miryeong’s mouth rose ever so slightly, then fell.
“Then,”
she said.
“Trust only me and follow.”
As the two of them went farther, the road narrowed even more.
Rocks increased on both sides,
and the ground began to slope gently downward.
It was then.
Miryeong’s steps slowed by the slightest margin.
Bido noticed the change immediately.
“Why?”
Miryeong did not answer.
Instead, she lifted her head and drew in a deep breath of air.
The cold scent of water blowing from the valley was clearly mixed into it.
And amid that,
there was another scent, so faint it was nearly imperceptible.
Miryeong’s eyes narrowed.
“...Blood.”
The word slipped out almost like a breath.
The smell of blood was not raw.
It was thinly spread with water,
a smell pressed into damp earth not yet fully dried.
If smelled once, it was easily forgotten,
but when breathed in a second time, it left the taste of iron on the tip of the tongue.
When the wind from the valley brushed past, the scent of water came first.
Blood followed after it.
It was not a cold smell,
but the smell made when cold water had cooled blood.
Miryeong wrinkled the tip of her nose ever so slightly.
Her ears lifted once, then immediately lay flat.
That brief movement seemed to mean, “confirmation complete.”
Bido swallowed his breath.
Her gaze combed over the ground.
Between stones, wet grass, places where footprints had been erased.
Rather than “someone was hurt here,”
the thought that came first was, “someone made someone get hurt here.”
His hand found the hilt of his sword on its own.
It was not the amount of blood,
but the direction of someone who had left blood behind and still had not stopped,
that first sent a chill down the back of his neck.
For a moment, Bido felt his heart beat one count late.
“It isn’t much.”
Miryeong added.
“There are also traces of it being washed away.”
She slowly looked toward the valley.
“But,”
“This is the place.”
Only now did Bido feel the weight of those words.
This was no longer the stage where they could suspect whether they had taken the wrong path.
Miryeong no longer followed the road.
She moved her feet and turned toward a direction where people did not pass.
It was a path descending through grass and stones.
Bido hesitated briefly, then followed her without a word.
After a few steps downward, their view opened all at once.
It was a small valley.
Water flowed between the rocks, making a low sound.
The color of the water was not murky,
and only the parts touched by sunlight gleamed faintly.
Miryeong looked toward the valley for a moment, then shifted her gaze farther down.
Only then did Bido see it as well.
Beside the valley,
beneath overlapping rocks, a small darkness had opened its mouth.
It was a cave.
The entrance did not look large.
If one lowered their body, a single person could barely go in and out.
There were no signs nearby that people had stayed there for long,
but even so, it felt somewhat unnatural to call it untouched by human hands.
Miryeong took one more step closer.
“Here.”
It was a short word.
Bido steadied his breathing and looked into the cave.
He could not see inside.
Only darkness untouched by light continued inward.
The sound of the valley water wrapped around the cave entrance and flowed past.
Though the sound was not loud,
strangely, it seemed as if no sound could be heard from within.
Miryeong drew in the air again.
The scent of water came first.
And behind it,
the faint scent of blood remained, clearer than before.
“Now it’s certain.”
Miryeong said.
“It’s inside that cave.”
Bido did not deny it either.
He merely tightened his grip a little more on the sword in his hand behind his back.
Miryeong raised a hand in front of Bido, signaling for him to stop for a moment.
“Follow from behind.”
It was brief.
She bent her body first and entered the cave.
Her steps were slow,
and she moved while carefully checking the ground.
Bido steadied his breath and followed after her.
The inside of the cave was darker than expected.
The light entering from the mouth was completely cut off after only a few steps.
Damp air touched his skin first.
The sound of the valley water struck the cave walls and echoed low.
At first, it felt like a narrow passage.
But after a few more steps, the air changed.
The ceiling gradually rose,
and the pressure of the walls loosened.
It was then.
A faint light appeared in the darkness ahead.
The flame was not large.
It was not swaying in the wind,
but burned quietly, as if someone had just lit it.
Miryeong slowed her steps even further.
Before setting down each foot, she always paused briefly.
Bido realized he was gripping the hilt of his sword without meaning to.
As they slowly approached the light,
the inside of the cave was revealed.
The space was wider than expected.
The floor was flat,
large enough for several people to stay.
And there were people inside it.
People who were not moving.
It took Bido some time to count them.
Two were human,
and one was a Haraya.
All three had fallen in different positions.
One looked as if he had tripped while fleeing,
and another sat slumped against the wall, head hanging down.
Miryeong slowly approached the nearest corpse.
“...They look like mercenaries.”
She did not touch it.
There were no clear wounds visible on the outside.
No traces of being cut or stabbed.
Instead, the skin was discolored in places.
Dark red, or ash gray.
Marks of necrosis remained, as if the flesh had rotted.
Bido wanted to turn his head away, but could not tear his eyes from it.
There were hardened bloodstains at the corners of the mouth,
and the same traces remained around the eyes.
Vomiting blood.
Not once,
but several times.
Miryeong said in a low voice,
“These aren’t signs of a fight.”
Those words were neither relief nor explanation.
They were simply an accurate judgment.
Bido felt a chill run down his spine.
What had happened here was not a fight.
Bido’s gaze stopped on the Haraya’s corpse.
Without realizing it, she took one step closer, then stopped.
“...No way,”
Bido said quietly.
“This person isn’t Mr. Hajin, right?”
It was a question,
but mixed within it was the desire to deny it.
Miryeong looked down at the corpse and said nothing for a moment.
She tilted her head slightly to check the face.
“Who knows.”
Miryeong said.
“For now, we can’t be certain.”
Those words were neither reassurance nor a conclusion.
Bido let out a long breath.
But his heart did not grow lighter.
It was then.
Miryeong’s gaze moved past the corpses,
deeper into the cave.
The light trembled ever so slightly in that direction.
Miryeong raised her hand,
stopping Bido again.
“Stay still.”
She silenced her steps and moved one pace farther forward.
Deeper inside the cave,
at the boundary where the light reached, something moved.
At first, it looked merely like a shadow.
But soon,
they could tell it was a person.
They were not collapsed.
Nor were they completely motionless.
Miryeong’s voice dropped very low.
“...Farther in,”
“There’s one more.”
Only then did Bido’s heart regain its pace.
A living person.
Here,
still.
Miryeong immediately lowered her stance.
She moved very slowly toward a rock where she could hide herself.
She gestured to Bido.
It was a signal to stay behind her without making a sound.
From inside the cave came the sound of feet dragging across the floor.
It was not regular.
Rather than steps,
it was closer to movement that had lost its direction.
The light shook.
Beyond that light, a single silhouette appeared.
The shape of ears could be seen.
Even in the darkness, it was the unmistakable outline of a Haraya.
Bido’s breath caught in his throat.
“...Mr. Hajin?”
The words were cautious.
They were less confirmation than a feeling of wanting to hold on.
At that moment, the silhouette stopped.
And silence flowed through the cave.
Then, soon, a hoarse breath could be heard.
“What... are you...?”
The voice was cracked.
It had no strength,
and no direction.
As the light came a little closer, the face was revealed.
The eyes could not focus properly,
and the hands were trembling.
The fingers gripping the fire were tensed with excessive force.
When Bido tried to take a step forward, Miryeong immediately stretched out an arm to stop him.
Then,
Hajin suddenly raised his voice.
“I didn’t do it.”
The words spilled out as if bursting free.
“I...”
“I never meant that.”
He shook his head violently.
“Suddenly...”
“Suddenly, everyone...”
The words did not continue.
His breathing grew ragged,
and his shoulders heaved heavily.
“I wasn’t trying to run away,”
“I wasn’t trying to kill anyone.”
As if trying to hold on to his own words,
Hajin kept repeating the same things over and over.
“I just...”
“I came to settle things.”
The light trembled.
Beneath that unstable glow,
Hajin’s face had completely crumbled.
Miryeong shifted her center of gravity ever so slightly backward.
Instead,
without taking her eyes off him for even an instant, she said very quietly,
“Don’t move.”
Whether those words reached Hajin or not was impossible to know.
Inside the cave were three corpses,
and one living person.
And an air that had not yet ended
remained, still unsettled.