Mendel looked back several times.
The forest had already fallen still, but that silence only made him uneasy.
Even though the wind had died, the metallic reek of blood lingered after them for a long while.
Mendel swallowed dryly.
“Is it really all right to… let him go like that?”
His voice was cautious.
Even taking into account that the battle had only just ended,
tension still remained in her eyes.
Aslo did not answer.
He walked on, lowering his sword and slowly steadying his breath.
Only after a moment did he speak.
“For now, there’s nothing we can do.”
It was a single, brief sentence.
Mendel understood what it meant.
Not because they couldn’t win—
but because he was an opponent they could not hold back without accepting the price.
Miryeong stopped walking.
“Ah— I don’t care anymore.”
Muttering that, she simply lay down on the ground in front of the abandoned house.
“Seriously… I can’t move even one leg now.”
Miryeong’s eyes were already closed.
Her breathing was not labored, but her body seemed to have stopped listening to her.
Erdin approached without a word.
“Lady Miryeong.”
When there was no answer, he lifted Miryeong up just as she was.
Only then did they see it.
The scrapes left across her arms, her side, and the patches of skin exposed beneath her clothes.
They were not deep, but there were far more than one or two.
Erdin’s brow furrowed.
“…You overdid it.”
“I know…”
Miryeong answered without even opening her eyes.
“But if I hadn’t, we really would’ve been finished.”
Aslo watched them in silence.
There was neither praise nor rebuke.
At the moment, neither was needed.
They went back inside the abandoned house.
Past the broken doorframe, into a space even quieter than before.
The heat of battle had vanished,
and what remained—
was only the fatigue piled up in their bodies and thoughts that had yet to be sorted out.
Aslo took a place deeper inside.
“We rest here for now, until Lord Rangnan arrives.”
No one objected.
For now, not moving was the best choice.
It was the moment the air inside the abandoned house touched her body.
Bido’s feet stopped.
She said nothing,
nor did she look around.
She simply took one step,
and could go no farther.
Her legs gave out.
Bido sank to her knees.
And then—
she threw up everything inside her.
Violently,
unable to hold it back.
Leaning against the floor as she retched,
Bido could not breathe properly.
Her back heaved, and her fingertips trembled faintly.
No one spoke.
Outside, she had endured it.
She had gripped her sword and stepped forward.
But once she came inside,
all that tension came undone at once.
The memory of facing an overwhelmingly powerful being.
And despite that, the moments when she had taken a step forward and stood on the battlefield.
Her still-young body
was far too overwhelmed to accept all of it.
Bido kept her head bowed
and tried to steady her breathing, but it would not go as she wished.
Aslo watched her from a short distance away.
He neither approached nor spoke to her.
Because he knew that, at least in this moment,
no one’s comfort would easily reach her.
After a while,
Mendel carefully approached.
“It’s all right.”
His voice was low.
A tone that neither soothed nor hurried her.
He crouched beside Bido and slowly held out some water.
“For now, just breathe.”
Mendel felt the rhythm of Bido’s heaving back through the back of his hand and waited in silence.
Bido’s breathing began to settle little by little.
The retching stopped,
but her body still would not listen.
Mendel undid his cloak and carefully draped it over Bido’s shoulders.
So that the chill from the floor would touch her even a little less.
Only then did the strength leave Bido’s fingertips.
Aslo watched until the end before turning his gaze away.
He said nothing.
But his judgment had already hardened.
This child had already set foot on the battlefield.
And—
she was paying the price with her body.
Bido was looking at the floor.
Not earth, not dust, but the wooden floor.
Her gaze would not easily pull away.
She had been afraid.
When she saw Aslo go down on one knee,
and when Miryeong’s attack was blocked.
But more than any of those moments—
what frightened her most was herself, taking that step forward.
It was not that she had not wanted to run away.
Nor was it that she had wanted to hold out.
It was just—
that if she only stood there in that place, it felt as though something would come to an end.
She still did not know what would end.
But she felt she understood one thing.
If the same situation came again—
she would take another step forward.
Bido quietly closed her eyes.
Her insides were empty, yet that thought alone was strangely clear.
How much time had passed?
Inside the abandoned house, a silence close to peace had settled for a brief moment.
Then—
from outside the door came a presence familiar to Miryeong.
Miryeong, lying on the floor, reacted with her ears first.
“Ah…”
Before she even opened her eyes, an irritated sound slipped out.
“I was sleeping so well…”
She raised herself up and muttered with one eye half-open.
There was no sign of wariness.
Instead,
her face was filled with the distinct displeasure of someone who had just been woken up.
Soon after,
three people carefully appeared beyond the broken doorframe.
Bido looked that way without thinking,
then found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the first person who entered.
Blue skin.
He was similar in height to a human,
but the thick, long tail extending behind his waist
made his nature clear.
A tail resembling a lizard’s.
His fingers and toes numbered only four each,
and the bridge of his nose was so low that he almost seemed to have no nose at all.
It was a race Bido was seeing in person for the first time.
The Dullam.
A man wearing loose clothes
and a turban on his head—
Rangnan.
Fine wrinkles had settled across his face,
and in those wrinkles was the calm unique to someone who had lived as long as they implied.
Behind him, a Haraya man entered.
Long white hair.
At a glance, his face resembled Miryeong’s enough to mistake him for her.
It was Muryeong.
But the atmosphere around him was entirely different.
The enormous axe slung across his back explained that difference at once.
Crude, heavy weight.
Muryeong looked around inside, then silently looked at Miryeong.
Feeling his gaze, Miryeong slowly opened her eyes.
And then—
Miryeong openly glared at Muryeong.
She said nothing.
But her expression alone was enough.
Why she was in this state,
and why Muryeong was perfectly fine.
Receiving that gaze, Muryeong froze for a moment.
He lowered his head ever so slightly,
then turned his eyes away as though nothing had happened.
Miryeong snorted.
“Hah.”
It was a low, short sound.
Rangnan watched the scene for a moment and said nothing.
There was no need to explain.
After them,
the last person entered.
Short orange hair.
A sturdy build, yet his movements looked excessively relaxed.
It was Melanie.
A single not-so-long sword was fastened at his waist,
and a chain was connected to the end of the sword’s pommel.
That chain wound once around his waist.
Equipment that looked as though it was meant for combat, yet somehow like a joke as well.
Rangnan looked around inside and said,
“It’s quieter than I expected.”
At those words, Miryeong answered while still lying down.
“Ahaha. We nearly died, you see.”
With her eyes closed, she added,
“So keep it down.”
Only then did Muryeong notice the wounds visible beneath Miryeong’s clothes.
He said nothing, but his brow furrowed ever so slightly.
Bido quietly watched the scene.
The people after the battle.
And—
faces she was seeing for the first time.
Bido glanced once more at Rangnan’s tail,
then carefully withdrew her gaze.
There were still far too many stories here that she did not know.
Melanie took a few more steps inside, then stopped
and glanced back outside the door.
Broken trees, gouged earth.
Traces that had yet to settle.
“Things looked pretty chaotic outside.”
The words were tossed out lightly,
but his eyes were assessing the situation.
“Something happen?”
No answer came.
Without opening her eyes, Miryeong said,
“Rangnan.”
There was no strength in her voice.
“I really thought I was going to die.”
She started to lift an arm,
then let it drop as it was.
“This time, it really wasn’t a joke.”
Only then did Rangnan shift his gaze.
From Miryeong, he swept his eyes once over the traces of battle—
and nodded.
“So it seems.”
His response was calm.
“Then,”
he continued,
“I would like to hear what happened,”
“from the beginning.”
At that moment, Melanie took a step toward Miryeong.
“Still, you made it back alive.”
There was laughter in his voice.
“As expected, the ‘White Weasel’ really is diff—”
But before he could finish—
Thud.
A dull sound rang out.
Miryeong’s fist struck Melanie squarely in the abdomen.
“Ghk—!”
Melanie doubled over and took a step back.
And yet,
over his pain-twisted face—
a smile spread.
“Wow…”
He steadied his breath and barely managed to continue.
“Looks like you’re still doing fine.”
Without opening her eyes, Miryeong said,
“I can’t die before you do,”
she said lowly.
“Melanie.”
Melanie rubbed his stomach and laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rangnan, who had been watching the scene, observed in silence for a moment—
then spoke again.
“So.”
This time,
there was no laughter in his voice.
“What happened?”
The air inside the abandoned house tightened slightly once more.