#045

Having circled the castle, they reached the vicinity of the main gate. Cullen’s horse whinnied and stopped. The slowly brightening gray clouds illuminated the approaching corpses. Making grotesque moans, they were like a single, massive lump of flesh.

“There are… so many.”

Arne said in a shrinking voice. Despite his earlier composure, he seemed disgusted by the sight before him. Cullen, too, had never seen such a scene. The pressure from the overwhelming numbers was immense.

“You go first.”

Cullen said, shaking the thick, dark red blood from his longsword. Arne, holding a torch with trembling hands, nodded. He took a deep breath.

“Follow me closely, Your Highness.”

Arne spurred his horse towards the corpses. Perhaps due to extreme nervousness, he forgot to make the loud noises planned and threw the torch at a nearby group of corpses. The torch, falling in a parabola, landed on one of their heads. A brief flame flared up.

With a growl, the corpse with completely rotted eyes turned its body sharply. Responding to one, the majority began to follow suit.

Arne froze in surprise and faltered, while the corpses began to move rapidly. With a ‘Guaaaah!’ sound, they bent their upper bodies and charged indiscriminately.

“Arne!”

At Cullen’s shout, Arne belatedly turned his horse’s reins. The horse, sensing the threat to its life, kicked off the ground without any further urging from Arne.

Next was Cullen. He rode alongside the pursuing figures, as if herding a pack of beasts, and shouted loudly.

“There’s more here!”

Holding the reins with one hand, he threw the torch far. The torch reached those still not distracted, clinging to the main gate.

Finally, the central corpses also turned their heads. Hundreds of empty eyes shot towards Cullen in a line. The hand holding the reins tightened. His mother’s image flashed briefly in his mind.

He felt as if his mother were mixed in with them.

“Snap out of it!”

The rapidly moving corpses charged at Cullen’s horse. With a clear voice in his head, Cullen flinched, regained his senses, and swung his longsword. The sharp blade, brought down with great force, cleanly cleaved the charging corpses.

Kicking the horse’s flank, Cullen began to run. He unconsciously glanced back briefly. There was Kiyen, staring at him expressionlessly. The voice in his head was clearly his.

It’s alright.

A faint sense of relief washed over Cullen. Mother was not among them. She was next to his cabin, with Father and Sasha.

Shaking his head, Cullen began to catch up to the receding Arne. The corpses, distracted by the loud shouts and moving horses, soon followed the two in a horde.

The ground trembled.

The sound of hundreds of corpses running echoed through the city. A foul stench, forming a black mass, clung terrifyingly to Cullen’s rear. Dodging collapsed stone walls, fallen trees, and bushes, he gradually increased his speed. The wind stung his cheeks.

As if they had become a single large mass, the cursed bodies stuck close behind Cullen like rolling balls. Even as they began to ascend the mountain, their speed did not decrease; it increased. That was good. He had to bring as many as possible up.

A suffocating chase ensued. His heart pounded as if it would burst.

Cutting down the corpses clinging to Arne’s back as he rode ahead, Cullen grew closer and closer to him. Arne’s plain black robe fluttered.

As the horse stumbled slightly while turning right on the mountain path, Arne momentarily faded into a faint blur. He spat a short curse and quickly turned his horse’s reins.

Twigs scratched his cheeks and neck, drawing blood. The corpses followed him faithfully. As if he were the vanguard of the undead.

As the long chase continued, the sun slowly began to appear. Seeing the sunlight filtering through the clouds, Cullen urged his horse to its limit.

Whispering a short encouragement, his vision finally caught sight of the black cave entrance in the distance. It was smaller than the one he had seen before, but still sufficiently massive.

Cullen prepared himself slowly. Jumping off a horse at full gallop was practically suicide. It was nearly impossible for anyone but an experienced person like Cullen. Therefore, Arne should have turned his horse’s reins by now.

However, Arne did not stop. He was riding towards the inside of the cave.

“Arne, stop!”

Arne glanced back briefly. He lowered his eyebrows mournfully and gave Cullen an apologetic look. He could see his lips move.

Thank you.

Seeing that, Cullen’s insides twisted. He gritted his teeth. His mind raced. In a brief moment, Cullen made a decision.

“Damn stubbornness!”

Cullen shouted and began to push his horse to its limit. He kicked its flanks roughly, increasing its speed. Arne gradually grew closer. His mouth felt dry.

A thousand thoughts scattered through his mind. As Lasano had said, Arne might be an observer, and even if he survived, he wouldn’t escape execution.

However, Cullen did not want to see that foolish priest die before his eyes.

Managing to catch up to Arne’s side, he held the reins with one hand and leaned his body to the left. Tilting himself as much as possible, he took a deep breath. Arne, seeing Cullen catch up, frantically shook his head. The moment he saw that, Cullen let go of the reins and threw himself. His long arms roughly grabbed Arne’s body.

With force, Cullen pulled Arne and they fell. With tremendous impact, they rolled wildly on the ground, finally stopping just beside the cave entrance.

“Ugh,” Cullen swallowed a short groan at the overwhelming pain that struck him sequentially. His arm tightly holding Arne’s body, or his spine, seemed to have broken as they hit the rocky ground.

“Cullen, why, why did you…” Arne said, coughing. Having rolled together, he was also not unscathed.

Cullen watched until the end as their frightened horses leaped into the cave. He saw their flowing manes.

Kiyen will dislike this.

Facing death, Cullen thought this. He managed to lift his head and look back. A giant shadow, darker than the cave, was rushing towards them.

“Do not seek solace in death. Arne, you at least have someone left to apologize to.”

Arne bit his lip tightly. With a face like a lost child, he said in a trembling voice.

“But Cullen, because of that, you too will die. Because of me, I…”

Arne’s voice was soon drowned out. The sound of hundreds of approaching corpses engulfed them. It was true. He had told Arne not to die, but being trampled by so many meant there was no answer other than death.

Before he could even draw his sword with his one good arm, the corpses with open mouths fell upon him. The stench of death filled the air. The shadow was larger than the mountain.

Just then.

From afar, he felt hot air.

Cullen reacted instinctively. He immediately covered Arne’s body. Shielding Arne, whose eyes widened in surprise, with his own body, Cullen squeezed his eyes shut.

It was after that the storm created by the flames swept through. An immense heat, as if it could melt even the soul, engulfed Cullen. Before he could even register it, sweat beaded all over his body.

A crimson inferno poured down with the sound of a typhoon. The mountain path leading to the cave, the earth they stood on, the corpses that had been covering Cullen, all burned to black.

It was a wondrous and terrifying miracle.

The fire, pouring down like flowing lava, burned everything in its path. Grass and trees melted away without a trace. The corpses that had been crushing them turned into blackened lumps of ash and flew into the cave. The cave swallowed the raging flames.

His ears went deaf.

The mountain was quiet. Cullen lifted his head, panting. His back stung as if he had a burn. Hadn’t he said magic didn’t work on him? Yet, the heat just now was so intense that it wouldn’t be strange to melt and die like this. He felt dizzy.

“Arne, draw your sword……”

Arne seemed to have fainted. Cullen could see his neck, which he hadn’t been able to fully cover, and his robe burning. He might even be dead. He let out ragged breaths and barely managed to push himself up. His vision was blurry. The burning pain all over his body made it difficult to even distinguish what was in front of him.

It was then that the cave began to collapse. Crackle, he heard the sound of it starting to crumble, and saw the floor of the mine slowly sink into the ground. He didn’t know the exact method, but Cullen instinctively knew what he had to do.

The sword must be buried. So that such a thing would never happen again.

Cullen staggered to his feet and rummaged through Arne’s waist. He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain that shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

When he turned his eyes, he saw the hanging sword. There was no time. He snatched at a pouch. The moment he grabbed it, a green light began to flow. A chill crept up his hand. Illusions flickered before his eyes like flames.

Gritting his teeth, Cullen crawled towards the cave entrance. Gale and Roach, who had been burning to death in response to the flames, kept flashing in his vision. He felt nauseous.

Nevertheless, he moved. Mustering his last strength, Cullen raised his trembling arm. Then, he threw the pouch. Far, very far.

The pouch, flying in a curve, fell into the black darkness of the mine. Cullen swayed. It was at that moment that the ground beneath him gave way.

The ground Cullen stood on must have been connected to the mine entrance, as the floor began to collapse. He turned his head to check. By a hair’s breadth, the ground where Arne lay was fine.

He didn’t have the strength to leap.

Cullen admitted he had pushed himself a little too hard. It was his mistake. He had reached out for something he didn’t need to bother with. He hadn’t intended to get involved in someone else’s affairs to this extent in the first place. Shouldn’t he have been focused on his mother’s revenge? This was different from his usual self.

He saw darkness. Feeling his body float and begin to fall, Cullen let out a faint sigh. In the moment before death, what came to mind were his dying family, the mercenaries waiting for him, and Kiyen.

A strange lingering thought raised its head then.

If he died like this, would Kiyen return to the palace? Would he have to spend an unimaginable number of years alone there again? Someone who smiled so beautifully even at a small name.

He didn’t want that.

To leave alone a Dragon who, weary of solitude, foolishly walked into a trap.

But he no longer had the mental capacity to think. The pain he had tried to forget rushed back. He hadn’t burned to death, but many parts were broken. The exhaustion from two full days without proper sleep finally caught up with him. His eyelids felt heavy.

Just as he was about to fall into that endless darkness.

“I told you you couldn’t die in a place like this.”

His waist was snatched. In his hazy consciousness, Cullen struggled to blink. He saw white, flowing blond hair. The scent of lilies, always so neat, wafted. It washed away the stench of the corpses.

Kiyen.

He wanted to call his name, but it was hard to open his mouth. Kiyen’s hand slowly approached his face. Before the large white hand covered his eyes, he saw a green light spreading through the air. The entire sky was enveloped in green.

Then, a warm hand closed his eyes.

“From now on, I must keep you out of my sight.”

So that he wouldn’t cause any more unnecessary trouble.

The words that followed were faint, and he wasn’t sure if he had heard them correctly.

Cullen chuckled softly to himself. Whether it was a delusion or not, he strangely didn’t dislike Kiyen scolding him. A sense of relief washed over him. Slowly, as if it were swallowing him.

With that, his consciousness flickered out.