The village was quieter than expected.
The moment they stepped inside the low wall,
the tension they had felt in the forest seemed to melt away as if it had been a lie.
A few roofs with smoke rising from them,
footprints left on the dirt road,
gazes stealing glances at Bido through half-closed doors.
There were not many people.
Miryeong led the way without a word.
She did not head toward the center of the village,
but walked along its edge.
It was a familiar route.
She did not look as though she was here for the first time.
“Stop here.”
Miryeong halted in front of a building that looked like an old storehouse.
There were no markings on the door.
Only, beneath the handle,
there remained a single long-scratched mark.
When the door opened a moment later, the inside was wider than expected.
The smell of straw mingled with the scent of old wood.
The moment the door closed,
Miryeong took one more step inside and said,
“We won’t stay here long.”
Erdin nodded.
Mendel was already checking the surroundings as he moved toward the window.
Bido stood there without a word.
The questions that had been clinging to her since the forest
felt as if they had finally gathered in one place.
The things piled up without being sorted
revealed their weight as she stepped into this space.
“That thing earlier... It’ll keep following us, won’t it?”
Bido spoke first.
Miryeong paused for a moment.
She did not turn her head,
but the delay in her answer was enough.
“Yes.”
It was a brief admission.
“It’ll probably start tailing us again once it meets up with that priest.”
Miryeong turned around and continued.
“It could have chased us alone. But it didn’t.”
Mendel added,
“Does that mean it’s that confident?”
Erdin nodded and said,
“In any case, it seems to be following whatever is inside that box.”
“That’s right. It must be the Mirkin the priest has.”
Miryeong said, looking at the box Bido was carrying.
“...Is this box really a sacred relic? Something like that?”
Bido said, tightening her grip on the box’s strap.
A brief silence passed.
Then Miryeong let out a sigh.
“...Who knows. The bastards of the Empire like to slap names on anything.”
Bido drew in a breath.
“But... this box... and me. Where were you trying to take us?”
Miryeong answered shortly.
“Eunwoldan.”
The air stiffened slightly.
Erdin and Mendel said nothing.
It was the silence of those who already knew.
Bido’s hand unconsciously clenched around the box strap.
“Then from the beginning...”
She did not continue,
stopping herself before the sentence could be completed.
Miryeong did not finish it for her.
Bido asked again.
“Did Master... know too?”
This time, Miryeong’s answer came even later.
“...He knew.”
“That guy is Eunwoldan too.”
The words fell more quietly than expected.
To Bido’s ears,
they sounded like an old door closing.
Her master had always offered no explanations.
But he had never lied either.
That fact felt even more uncomfortable now.
“Then why now...”
Bido lowered her head.
Miryeong did not answer for a while.
That silence was closer to waiting than avoidance.
“I don’t know the details either, but...”
“The situation has changed. I think we’ve been tailed.”
Bido’s breath caught for a moment.
“For now.”
Miryeong continued.
“We can’t go to Eunwoldan like this.”
Erdin said in a low voice,
“The moment we let them follow us, the main base is finished.”
Mendel added without taking his eyes off the window.
“We can’t stay here long either. And we don’t have much time to prepare.”
For a moment, the conversation broke off.
There was no plan.
No conclusion either.
There was only one thing that was certain.
This was not a place they could remain in for long.
Bido felt the weight of the box again.
No one had yet said where they had to go.
But
everyone knew they had to move.
—
At the entrance to the village, the forest path ended.
Beyond the wall, low roofs could be seen,
and smoke was rising in thin wisps.
A place where people lived.
And yet, now, it was far too quiet.
Adel stood still at that boundary.
He made no attempt to brush away the dust that had settled over his crimson armor.
His sword was still pointed toward the ground,
and his gaze remained fixed within the forest.
A little while later,
footsteps sounded from inside.
They were not fast.
They were neither hurried
nor cautious.
Even so, there was clearly
no strength in those steps.
The priest emerged at the end of the forest path.
His red priestly robes were not in disarray,
but his breathing was uneven.
Beside him, his attendant followed a few paces behind.
The priest took a few more steps and stopped.
He pressed a hand to his temple,
then slowly exhaled.
Though the time he spent with his eyes closed was brief,
a faint tremor remained in them when he opened them again.
“The direction has not changed.”
The priest spoke first.
His voice was low,
and he did not put force into it.
“However... the burden has grown heavier.”
He did not continue.
Instead, he shook his head very slightly.
Adel understood what it meant.
“You mean this is as far as we go today.”
After a moment of silence, the priest nodded.
“If I continue any further, the accuracy will collapse.”
“And... there is a high chance that I will collapse first.”
Adel looked at the priest.
His gaze lingered for a long time, as if checking his condition.
They could force their way onward.
But all they would gain from that was an incomplete pursuit and exhaustion.
Adel turned his head and looked at the village.
Inside the wall.
Light.
The presence of people.
This was not Imperial land.
It was a place beyond their gaze,
a place beyond their reach.
“We will not enter the village.”
Adel said.
His tone was closer to a conclusion than an order.
“There is no reason to hurry now.”
The priest bowed his head without a word.
It was a sign that he respected the judgment.
“We have secured the direction.”
Adel added.
“And even if they run... they won’t get far.”
He looked toward the village once more.
Traces that had already disappeared.
And yet, it did not feel as though they had been cut off completely.
“We camp here tonight.”
The words were short.
The attendant moved at once.
He began preparing camp while checking the surroundings.
The priest stood in place,
caught his breath once more, then said,
“...How arduous.”
Adel did not answer.
He stood as he was, without changing the direction of his sword.
The village was right before them,
but tonight,
it was not their destination.
The direction leading beyond the forest.
The hazy trace left by an unseen target.
Adel etched it into his mind.
There was no need to hurry.
For now, he would only wait.
—
Miryeong did not move for a long while inside the storehouse.
She pricked up her ears,
twitched her nose, and sharpened the edge of her senses.
She was simply feeling that the village was too quiet.
There was no presence from those pursuing them.
So completely that it was unsettling.
Mendel turned his head from the window.
“No sign of anyone.”
Erdin asked quietly,
“Did they stop for a bit?”
Miryeong shook her head.
“No.”
“It’s not that they stopped. It’s that they can’t come.”
Bido looked at her.
Miryeong checked outside the storehouse once more.
The direction where Adel had been standing,
the place where the forest had split.
“They joined up with that priest or whatever he is.”
“And... there’s no sign they’ll come this way right away.”
Mendel narrowed his eyes.
“Does that mean they can’t pursue us immediately?”
Instead of answering,
Miryeong let out a short breath.
“Probably... In my experience, the priest has reached his limit.”
Erdin crossed his arms.
“He’s a paladin. Careful judgment must be part of it as well.”
“...For now, the pursuit has stopped.”
It probably had not stopped completely.
Miryeong knew that too.
But it was not “right now.”
Miryeong looked at Bido.
“Get ready.”
Bido nodded.
She had already hoisted the box onto her back again.
Where they were going had not yet been decided.
But everyone knew they had to move.
The storehouse door opened.
This time, the ones being chased moved first.
As night deepened, words grew fewer.
Miryeong was leading the way at the front,
while Erdin and Mendel moved with distance between them.
No one looked back.
Bido felt the box once more.
The weight slung over her shoulder.
The sensation of the chain touching her skin.
Each time she took a step,
there was a vibration, swaying ever so slightly.
It was still there.
It had not disappeared,
nor had it grown lighter.
The forest was dark.
But it was not completely asleep.
The sound of insects,
leaves brushing in the wind,
the cry of a beast far away that sounded once, then ceased.
Even as she walked through all of it,
Bido’s breathing did not grow particularly ragged.
Earlier,
it had been the same when the air had pressed down.
Like the others, her breath should have choked,
and her body should have sunk.
But it had not.
She did not know why.
She tried to think about it, but no answer came.
Bido lowered her gaze.
The chain, the box, and
the unseen something that was supposed to be inside it.
People had come chasing after it.
The Empire’s paladin had called it a sacred relic.
But she still did not know what it was.
Her master had not explained.
If she did not ask, he did not speak.
That fact, now, felt a little uncomfortable.
Bido opened her mouth,
then closed it again.
She decided not to ask for now.
Because she vaguely knew it was not a question that would yield an answer.
Instead, she watched her feet and matched her steps.
Miryeong’s footprints.
Erdin’s breathing.
The moment Mendel stopped, then moved again.
She could feel that they were not being chased.
Very clearly.
But that did not mean she felt relieved.
Bido gripped the box more tightly.
It was still heavy.
And strangely,
that weight now felt as though it had become her own.
She did not know where they would end up going.
She did not know what awaited them either.
Only one thing was certain.
Now,
the box was not the only thing at the center of this matter.
Bido raised her head.
The night road continued on.