Episode 123
It was obvious what fate awaited him, stalling the spies alone until Lizan could make it safely out of the mountain.
Even to Lizan, who knew nothing of such things, there was nowhere on this mountain to hide oneself. With his entire body exposed to the enemy’s sight, he would have to fight a one-against-many gun battle, and once both sides had spent the single bullets loaded in their guns, he would have to charge in with a blade before they had time to reload and fight hand-to-hand.
Even now, fresh blood was dripping from this man’s forearms and back… in this state.
And yet how could he be so calm? How could he promise, without hesitating even once, that he would get her out, at least? It was so unbelievable that she felt dizzy.
The shock soon turned into a sense of betrayal. His resolve to save only her did not make Lizan grateful or happy. This was not right. It wasn’t. It made no sense. She hated it. All of this felt like a lie.
Only then did Lizan realize it too. She had also never imagined a world in which Ezekail had disappeared.
If one of them were to die first, Lizan had believed without a doubt that it would be her. She had committed a great wrong, and the foundation of her life was weak. She had always been the one more easily swept away by the storms of the world. She had never once imagined that the officer of Valdemaera might meet his death halfway up a mountain, fighting a lonely battle against spies. If someone had told the Lizan of the past about this future today, she would have thought it a delusion conjured by those who envied Ezekail.
“If I didn’t, you would disappear from this world… That frightened me more, Lizan. I had already lived in a world where you existed, so I could not bring myself to live again in a world where you had vanished.”
Now she understood what that fear was, the fear that made it impossible to endure without saving someone.
Had the emotions that had been so tangled and chaotic she had to leave him been washed clean away? No. She still hated him a little. She resented him, and it felt burdensome too. As long as wounds remained in her, there would surely be days when she turned the past over in her mind. But this was not a pain that could be resolved in a short time anyway. It would be a task they had to spend time on together, slowly unraveling it.
For that, they first had to live.
They had to live together.
Live, and try forgiving the mistakes of the past. Live, and try healing their hearts. Live, and try finding the courage to love again. Then… if they lived like that, perhaps one day they could become happy.
Yes, they would become happy.
Who could know? Perhaps that day would come sooner than expected.
“Even if the surprise sniping has worked so far because of luck, it’s only a fluke. They must be seething with rage by now. So don’t hesitate and go. That way I won’t be distracted. And a pension is set to be issued in your name. I’ve instructed Mongkam to handle it for me, so you should be contacted soon….”
Instead of trying to send only her away like this, as though it were nothing.
If her voice had come out, she would have said she hated it, but with the easiest means gone, her chest felt stifled. Now she wanted to speak. With her own mouth, she wanted to reveal her thoughts, her feelings, directly.
It was so suffocating that it felt as if a ball of fire had lodged inside her.
All she needed was a single word, yet she could not say that one word. She had no idea how to get back the language she had lost…
Lizan wrapped her arms around Ezekail’s neck. When she pulled him toward her, Ezekail was drawn in without understanding why.
“…Lizan?”
Then she pressed her lips to his, stopping the mouth from which only words she did not want to hear kept pouring out.
She did not linger long. Lizan knew well that they did not have the time. Those men would return soon, and they had to prepare for what came next as quickly as possible.
Even so, even in that brief breath, the warmth was vivid.
That was enough.
It was not even their first kiss, yet Ezekail could not hide how dazed he was. It must have been rare for him to be so flustered in the middle of an urgent battle. As if he could not believe the sensation left on his lips, he touched the surface that had met hers, then raised his eyebrows slightly.
Lizan, on the other hand, pulled her lips away firmly and snatched up one of Ezekail’s rifles. It was a declaration of war that she would share the burden he carried.
Having come down to the north armed in order to protect Lizan, he had stuffed every pocket of his clothes with gunpowder and bullets packaged for single use. Folded scraps of paper rustled even in the pockets of the outer garment Lizan was wearing.
Lizan took out the gunpowder and examined it closely. Since she had never loaded a gun before, she hesitated for a moment.
Do I just pour this in?
It was just as she was wondering.
“That means you don’t want me to say things you don’t want to hear, right?”
“….”
“Do you know that the way you get angry makes my heart race terribly? I’d be grateful if you got angry like this often from now on.”
At the joking tail end of his words, Lizan shot him a glare.
But the softened atmosphere lasted only a moment.
“Are you truly not going to leave?”
Instead of answering, Lizan gripped the rifle resolutely.
“Of course I’ll do my best, but it will be dangerous.”
She knew that. It didn’t matter.
“If you are still all right with that, then stay by my side.”
Only now did he say something so obvious. Lizan nodded willingly.
Ezekail took the rifle from her hand.
“But staining one’s hands with blood is my work. Your hands are clean hands that saved me. Don’t carelessly hold a gun in hands like these. I’ll be the one to kill people.”
He finished loading it with practiced ease, then supported Lizan. If he was going to get Lizan out of this place before the spies returned, they had to move immediately.
Lizan followed him without showing the slightest sign of difficulty. Unlike usual, she descended the slope with long, brisk strides, almost running. Even so, they were not moving fast enough, and unease crept in.
She took off the slippery slippers and stepped barefoot onto the cold ground. It was much better. She, too, had spent years in a dormitory halfway up this mountain. She was used to mountains. Sharp stones and gritty grains of sand cut into the soles of her feet, but Lizan focused on running without even a moment to feel the pain.
“Lizan, get on my back.”
Afraid their escape route would be discovered, Lizan held the slippers against her chest as she followed him. When Ezekail noticed her desperate terror, he tried to offer her his back, but instead of quietly climbing on, Lizan pulled him forward. She did not even know how to use a weapon, so if a fight broke out, she would be of no help. She could not become dead weight on his back as well.
Lizan gathered her skirt in one hand and moved her feet diligently. Branches that sprang up scratched her ankles and calves.
If only they could descend the mountain like this, she would ask for nothing more.
But it seemed to be a hope that could not come true.
Ezekail suddenly wrapped his arms around her and rolled down the slope. It happened in an instant.
Bang, bang—the clamorous sounds of gunfire tore at her ears. With a ringing whine, her hearing vanished for a moment. Lizan did not even see when Ezekail had raised the rifle and fired. She had worried that if they suddenly came face-to-face with the spies, she might be so startled she would faint, but all of it had been needless concern. Once it happened, she did not even have the presence of mind to be shocked.
Clutching her numbed ears, Lizan urgently looked ahead. Behind the two men who had collapsed after being struck by Ezekail’s bullets, the three surviving spies and Levian relentlessly aimed at the two of them and pulled their triggers.
Unlike Ezekail, who had chosen to reduce the enemy’s numbers with the fastest possible first shot because they were at a disadvantage in head count, Levian, who had several subordinates with him, took the exact opposite strategy. They split into pairs and fired, buying time for the remaining men to reload.
Levian’s strategy was effective. Ezekail, who had to protect the woman, could not rashly close the distance and was busy throwing his body in every direction to throw off their aim.
“There’s no need to panic. The longer we drag this out, the more the situation is absolutely in our favor. Let’s just not get careless.”
Levian encouraged his men as he reloaded the barrel he had just emptied. Even if every shot missed, as long as they continued firing from this side, they could prevent Major Valdemaera from approaching and preserve their strength, so it was to their advantage. Even while being pushed back, the man who had been tempered by long years on battlefields kept his body lowered and used the shadows, making it difficult to aim at him carelessly.
The woman was barely visible. It was because Major Valdemaera held her close and covered her with his own body to what seemed a desperate degree.
In any case, now that the big fish had appeared, she was nothing more than a small fry.
Levian narrowed his eyes and aimed at the man with careful hands. Bang. The moment he pulled the trigger, he felt it.
This time, he had hit him.
Ezekail pushed Lizan behind a thick tree trunk. A searing heat rose from the bullet that had torn into his thigh, but he did not so much as blink. If he had feared such things, he would never have served as a soldier. It was merely that one more scar had been carved today over countless others.
He held a bullet between his lips and poured the gunpowder Lizan handed him with trembling hands into the muzzle. She must have been clutching it tightly all this time, for the paper wrapping the gunpowder was warm with her body heat.
“Lizan, stay down.”
Lizan’s nightclothes, which had been quite neat when she left the dormitory, had turned pitch-black as she rolled across the dirt. At a glance, they were difficult to distinguish from the shadows.
He earnestly hoped that the darkness of this night would hide her well.
And that it would hide her eyes as well. Today, Lizan had probably seen more corpses than she had in all the years she had lived.
Bullets fired by the approaching enemies embedded themselves in the tree bark. Though she flinched at the chips that flew off, Lizan quietly curled up just as he had instructed.
A battle of attrition could not be dragged out for long.
Ezekail listened to the signs of people approaching as if to surround the tree. One, two, three, four. Perhaps Akenaus, not being a soldier, had been excluded from the encirclement; there were four sets of footsteps, each of a different weight.
Now.