By Zephyria =======
Wolf closed his eyes. He counted backward from twenty to one and then opened them.
Silver was lying diagonally across the bed. His face, turned to one side, was densely covered in burn scars. Everything had returned to its place. The tattoos around his eyes that looked like smudged charcoal, and the mouth pulled to one side.
Wolf squeezed his eyes shut once more and opened them. Silver’s ruined face remained unchanged.
Was that natural? Was it supposed to be this way? Which one was the real face? No, I’m an idiot for even thinking this. There’s no need to doubt; the face covered in burn scars is the real one. But… stop it, you bastard!
“Well, it could happen.”
Wolf gave a casual shrug and picked up the teapot. Contrary to his voice, which held a hint of a laugh, the hand holding the teapot trembled violently. Tea splashed outside the cup.
“I must have inhaled too much Narcotic Herb smoke and fallen into a hallucination. Right?”
He asked Byeoruki stealthily, pretending to talk to himself. The answer came back.
〔Correction. Your current physical condition is confirmed to be normal.〕
Damn it, it wasn’t?
Wolf set the teapot down. His hands were shaking too much to pour the tea. He closed his eyes tight, steadied his breathing, and muttered silently. Calm down, you just saw things. You suffered through a fever for a full day, and as soon as you recovered, you did hard labor without even swallowing a piece of bread, and then you ran through a downpour at night. It would be weirder if you didn’t see things. Right?
Wolf gripped the teapot again. This time, he poured the tea accurately. He gave Silver another cup of tea and laid him back down.
Before long, Silver’s breathing improved. At the very least, it was much better than before he drank the tea. Steam steadily billowed from the Thyme Pot, and the room was warm. He had done all the first aid he could. The rest was up to Silver.
Wolf stood up, rubbing his face with both hands. He went outside to wash his flushed face with rainwater before returning. He checked on Silver one more time and lay down beside him.
The bitter scent of thyme and the astringent aroma of willow drifted like a school of fish. It felt like the streets of Levenon in late autumn. Crushed and abandoned tangerine peels used to fill the alleys with bitter and astringent smells. Wolf couldn’t close his eyes and simply stared at the ceiling. His pounding heart wouldn’t settle. Endless thoughts linked together like chains.
Was that pretty face really a hallucination? Yeah, it was a hallucination. There’s no way Thunder, who possesses monstrous strength, would also have outstanding looks. But while it’s true people see all sorts of things when they’re tired, isn’t that too convenient an explanation? If it really was a hallucination, it’s almost a shame… Why do you care if it’s not even your face, you bastard. You saw with your own two eyes that he returned to a face covered in burn scars! That’s the end of it!
Wolf closed his eyes. That very face appeared. It was pale and beautiful, like a white statue guarding a dark sanctuary. It was a face that sent a sharp, tingling ache through somewhere in his chest the more he looked at it.
I know that face.
Wolf fell into a delusional thought. And quite seriously at that.
I’ve seen it before. But where? When?
His suspicion first turned toward his dreams. Maybe he had seen it once while napping. Because if he had seen such a beautiful face in reality, there was no way he wouldn’t remember.
Wolf let out a scoff and rolled onto his side. Sleep didn’t come easily. Only when Silver’s breathing had completely settled did his consciousness drift away.
* * *
A battering ram slammed into the castle gate. Warriors let out a roar. The Bronze-beaked Hawk pointed a greatsword toward the castle and shouted.
‘Stop this fucking rain!’
Huh…?
Wolf snapped his eyes open. A dazed sense of confusion washed over him. Why was his father spouting such nonsense in the middle of a fierce battle? Why was he lying down instead of fighting? And why was the surface beneath his body so hard?
Don’t tell me I died… Gasp!
Damn it, get a grip! Silver!
Wolf started to push himself up but hesitated. Silver was sitting with his back against the opposite wall. A blanket covered him up to his waist, and he wore a human-skin mask on his face. Pale blue eyes visible through the eye holes stared back at him.
“My, brother. You didn’t die after all?”
Wolf spoke in a tone that sounded deeply disappointed. Silver, who had been as motionless as a sarcophagus, finally moved. He slowly raised his arm and flicked up his middle finger.
“Existence confirmed. I’m sleeping.”
Wolf started to flop back down but paused. A blanket was covering his body. The blanket he had draped over Silver last night had returned to him.
Wolf lifted the blanket slightly.
“Thanks for this.”
Silver said nothing.
Lying with his arm as a pillow, Wolf rolled his eyes to survey the surroundings. The angle of the grey sunlight falling through the window indicated it was early morning.
Since the nursing had ended after midnight, he had slept quite a while, yet the fire in the brazier was burning strong. A thin stream of white steam rose from the Thyme Pot. While he was asleep, Silver must have put charcoal in the brazier and refilled the Thyme Pot with water. It was natural, considering he probably hadn’t fully shaken off the fever in that time, but…
However, Wolf remembered clearly. Silver was the kind of guy who would lounge around nonchalantly even in a gutter with a hole in the roof. For such a guy to get up and put charcoal in the brazier in a disheveled state the moment he woke up? Refill the pot with water? Even cover his noisy companion with a blanket?
Hmm. I get it.
Are you paying back your debt?
It must have been awkward to say thank you out loud. Silver was the type to pay back through actions. The type who wasn’t used to receiving consideration from others, nor giving it. The middle finger flicked his way was a clumsy shield characteristic of that type. He understood completely. Wolf often felt the same way—the desire to build a wall between himself and others.
Wolf closed his eyes. Instead of sleep, memories of the past few days rushed in like warriors marching toward a fortress. Looking back, it was absurd.
What is this?
When he first clashed with Silver on the ship, the impression had been so strong that he thought he wanted to see him again. There were nights he spent facing the storm while thinking of those eyes. Yes, he had wanted to meet him again. He wanted to share a warrior-like exchange, like striking each other’s heads with fists until skulls cracked. But the reality?
Everything had defied his expectations. Waking up on the beach only to have a human-skin mask fill his vision (he would deny until the day he died that he let out an unsightly scream the moment he faced that sight up close). The fact that Silver wasn’t the pirate captain but a mere lackey. Even the fact that he and Silver had crossed paths once a long time ago.
He had craved a fight where greatswords clashed and blood splattered, but in reality, all he did was nursing. Brewing willow bark tea and letting him inhale thyme steam. How wonderful.
This unpredictability was perhaps natural. Fortune or misfortune doesn’t arrive with a warning. Had he ever once expected to be dragged into a damn skeleton wraith den?
Looking at it differently, this flow was useful. It would be advantageous to accumulate debts like this now, in preparation for when he eventually revealed to Silver that he was an ‘Attendant.’ However, he couldn’t roll around in this drug den forever. He had to make a decision quickly.
But seriously, what was with that pretty face? Was it a hallucination after all? Yeah, it was a hallucination! I told you to stop it, you idiot! Why are you being so persistent!
He couldn’t continue his thoughts. Suddenly, it became noisy outside. Someone was kicking the door of the lodging violently. Calculations whirred in Wolf’s head. Some other facility must have collapsed like melting snow in this godforsaken downpour!
Wolf and Silver’s eyes met. In Silver’s tense eyes, Wolf’s inner thoughts were reflected: ‘Are they going to make us do hard labor again?!’
Wolf quickly gestured to the spot beside him. Without a word, Silver flopped down next to Wolf. The two lackeys in perfect unison yanked the blankets up to their necks and let out groaning moans of pain.
Right on cue, the door slammed open. Two pirates stormed into the room, eyes glaring. Both held axes and were dressed in rags. And not just any rags, but the worst kind of rags that even the riffraff of the docks would hesitate to wear. They even emitted a stench that defied imagination. Agh, my nose! Did those guys swim in a pile of shit!
The two lackeys simultaneously pinched their noses shut. Wolf shot a glance at Silver, conveying the meaning: ‘Do you want to take the lead?’ Silver firmly shook his head.
“Brothers… what… is going on…? We’re… sick…”
Wolf spoke in a fading voice, turning only his head. The hand clutching his nose was naturally hidden by the blanket. Silver supported him from the rear, coughing loudly.
“Yesterday at the galley… we both caught a chill while drawing water… With these frail bodies, labor is simply… uh, what’s this?”
Without warning, one of the pirates swung an axe down toward him. By a hair’s breadth, Wolf rolled to the side. The axe slammed deep into the bed.
95 – Hell’s Execution Order