SOTBW - 133

Maximón approached the clerk who was carefully checking the records scheduled for disposal. Everyone working in the archive was busy. The clerk furrowed his brows as the shade fell over him and quickly stood up upon seeing Maximón’s face.

“Lord Elgort, what brings you here...?”

Startled, the clerk mumbled in an awkward voice, causing everyone who had been moving quickly to glance at Maximón and then return to their work. A ripple passed through the relatively quiet archive. The clerk quickly dusted off his wrinkled cloak and hurriedly stood respectfully in front of Maximón.

Maximón got straight to the point.

“I would like to review some records.”

“Do you have permission?”

“No.”

At Maximón’s straightforward answer, the clerk’s face became uneasy.

“Then...”

“I believe I have the right to review the records of the Nathan Armunzen case.”

“Even so, you still need prior authorization...”

“Should I speak to the director? In that case, I’ll need to summon him here. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, after all, since the incident.”

As Maximón scanned the surroundings while speaking, the clerk’s complexion turned pale. Summon the director here just to review a single record?

The clerk was greatly flustered by Maximón’s mischief. The director was not a political figure, but he disliked troublesome and complicated matters. Relations between Maximón and the government had soured due to the Nathan Armunzen case, and if the director was called here for something like this...

The clerk could almost hear the reproach of his colleagues, telling him to handle it flexibly. Although it was only in his imagination, he trembled with fear.

Maximón, seeing the clerk at a loss, approached the clerk as though he was really going to summon the director. Startled, the clerk rushed to stop him.

“Wait, just a moment!”

The clerk pulled back the railing to waist height, signaling for Maximón to enter.

“According to the rules, this is absolutely, definitely not allowed... but since it’s you, Lord Elgort, I’ll make an exception and grant you permission this time.”

As the clerk opened the door, he glanced quickly behind him at Maximón. Najane was watching from a few steps away. Maximón, seemingly not intending to bring Najane into the archive, smiled warmly as he took off his gloves and spoke kindly.

“Wait here for a moment. I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time.”

Najane waved her hand with a smile. Maximón smiled back and followed the clerk. He could not bring Najane into the archive. The records he was about to review were not about the Nathan Armunzen murder case but about Emaydis Powley.

After passing the guards and entering the interior, the smell of old books filled the air. Maximón, with his heightened senses, grimaced slightly at the ink scent lingering in the air.

The clerks, like mice chased by a snake, darted between bookshelves but froze upon seeing Maximón, quickly stepping back. However, most of the clerks simply walked on, clutching thick records to their chests, seemingly too busy to be startled or make a fuss.

The eyes that had been on Maximón quickly scattered. Though it was rare to see the commander of Romsoa’s knights up close, there was far too much work to sneak a peek.

Despite the vast size of the archive, there were fewer than fifty clerks working there. They were tasked with recording everything that happened at the Noctis government offices and courts, leading to busy days.

If a report came in about someone possibly disguising their identity, it meant overtime. They had no choice but to search through all the archive records to find the true name of the person who had forged their identity, working until the sun came up.

The clerk looked at the long rows of bookshelves, mulling over Nathan Armunzen’s name.

“Hey, hey, wait a moment!”

Suddenly, someone stepped in front of the clerk.

Maximón, who had been silently following the clerk, raised an eyebrow.

“Who was the person dispatched to the court last week? The judge requested to review the trial records, but the name and time of the recorder aren’t listed. Didn’t you go to the court that day?”

The clerk who had interjected asked in a hurried voice. The clerk guiding Maximón stared at the paper his colleague handed him with an expression of disbelief.

“It’s not listed? That can’t be. The person who went with me that day… Ah, but why would the judge request to review the records...?”

The clerk skimmed through the paper but flinched under the sharp gaze. It was only then that the two other clerks noticed Maximón’s presence.

Maximón, for the first time experiencing such treatment, looked bewildered. He wasn’t angry at the clerks for discussing matters with him left behind, but he was simply dumbfounded.

The clerk, with a flustered face, quickly apologized.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me guide you right away…”

“Just tell me the location. I’ll review only that and leave.”

This worked out better. After all, Maximón had no interest whatsoever in anything related to Nathan. If the clerk was around, it would be difficult for him to find Najane’s records.

The clerk, whether knowing Maximón’s thoughts or not, hesitated for a moment before pointing to the neatly arranged bookshelves.

“Do you see the letters attached to the bookshelves? Lord Nathan Armunzen is a noble, so his name should be written in red at the very front of the N section.”

“That’s easy.”

Maximón immediately headed to the spot the clerk indicated, signaling not to worry about him. The clerk watched him with a reluctant gaze before continuing his conversation with his colleague.

Maximón entered between the bookshelves, and once he confirmed the clerk’s attention had shifted, he silently moved. The clerks, initially curious when they saw Maximón, quickly turned their attention back to their work. Maximón, showing no sign of concern, casually stared at the books in the E section, as though he had business there from the start.

On the tag hanging from the binding, the names of people recorded in the book were listed. Maximón flipped through the tags, searching for names starting with “E.”

Emaydis wasn’t a common name. Considering the alphabetical order, he began searching from the middle. At the very end of the shelf, there was a book with its tag flipped over.

Maximón narrowed his eyes.

It was as if someone had known he was coming and had prepared this in advance...

With a cold, rigid expression, Maximón pulled the flipped book from the shelf. On the tag, Emaydis Powley’s name was clearly visible. Maximón held the book tightly in his hand and looked around. The clerks, absorbed in their work, paid him no attention.

He tapped the book with his fingers, his face twisted with unease as he opened the page with the flipped tag.

“...”

The moment the page opened, Maximón’s gaze froze. On one side of the page was a portrait that filled the entire space. The bright silver hair, the sparkling purple eyes like jewels...

The woman from the unfamiliar memory that had suddenly flashed into his mind— the woman he had inexplicably thought was Najane.

Maximón could not breathe for a moment. Why was this woman’s portrait in Emaydis Powley’s record? Who had placed this here...?

He felt as though he were being toyed with. With a confused look in his eyes, Maximón read the rest of the record. The page, which should have detailed the name, gender, birthdate, and more, instead contained sentences that had nothing to do with Najane.

“The record for this individual is kept separately in the Restricted Section of the Church’s Library upon request from the Holy Church. To review this record, permission from the Pope of the Holy Church and the Director of the Noctis Archives is required. Please visit the Restricted Section with their authorization.”

________________________________________

The archive resembled a massive library. People wearing cloaks symbolizing their work at the government office continuously moved between the bookshelves, sorting thick books or writing down new records.

Since Najane could not enter the archive, she sat at a desk in the outer area, waiting for Maximón. Children stood at the entrance leading deeper into the archive, pulling levers on the clocks at one-minute intervals.

The staff would check the time as they corrected records, noting the time the changes were made. Everyone seemed so busy that they barely had time to think. The archive wasn’t open 24 hours, so everyone was hurriedly trying to finish their work on time.

Although there were a few people who occasionally glanced at Najane sitting idly in the chair, no one scrutinized her like the guards at the checkpoint. They merely glanced at her with curiosity, wondering why a knight from Romsoa was sitting there, then quickly returned to their work. They seemed too busy to give her presence another thought.

Najane looked up at the glass window where the light scattered, then rubbed her thigh, warmed by the sunlight. For the first time, she felt at ease. Sitting still among the busy people, doing nothing like an outsider, was strangely comfortable, like slipping into comfortable clothes and lying on a sofa.

It felt a bit strange. Even though she was sitting there like a useless ornament, doing nothing to help, she didn’t feel the desire to join in with the people rushing around in a panic.

Najane absentmindedly watched the hurried people around her and realized that she was much more exhausted than she had thought.

She had been quite surprised when she found out that Daniel was leaving Noctis, but that was all. It had been a while since she had last seen Amelia, but she hadn’t bothered to look for her. She should have explained to Didina that things with Maximón were going well, but for some reason, she didn’t want to.

It wasn’t because she harbored any ill feelings. Najane still liked the three of them. She never hated them. It was just that in this moment, doing nothing and basking in the sunlight, passing time without any meaning, felt good.

Listening to the sound of footsteps passing by, Najane closed her eyes. Perhaps it was the sunlight, but her body felt lethargic. She felt that if she lowered her guard even for a moment, she might fall asleep.

It would be nice if someone would lend her a shoulder.

Naturally, she thought of Maximón. The thought of leaning on Maximón’s shoulder made her smile. She laughed quietly to herself, but no one was watching her.

No one cared about Najane. They didn’t watch her with suspicious eyes, nor did they eye her like a prostitute, nor did they look at her with envy because she wielded a sword. They simply passed by.

The people here treated Najane as if they didn’t care where she was or what she was doing.

Ah, yes.

She could disappear at any time…

“What would you do if I hurt you again?”

“Why did you risk ruining your life to save me?”

Dazed by the winter sunlight, Najane flinched and lifted her head. She felt a bit embarrassed for almost dozing off at someone’s workplace. She bit her lip and, glancing around, straightened her back.

For a moment, Maximón’s voice crossed her mind… Najane slowly blinked and stared at the interior of the archive. The thought of Maximón made the corners of her lips curl up naturally.

She had never really longed for anything in her life. She had hoped to live a normal and uneventful life, but from the start, her life had been distorted. She had long since given up on a quiet life.

What had she wanted since then? Oh, she had wanted to be recognized by Nellis. But that too had failed. Whenever she introduced herself to someone, she always had to say, “I am the adopted daughter of Nellis Powley.”

She could have been a good older sister to Luna, but she hadn’t been. When she had woken up in the unknown warehouse, she hadn’t thought about escaping with Luna. She had simply prioritized her own safety.

Since the moment she was born, Najane had been repeating resignation and regret. There had been times when she hated her powerless self and thought she should become someone useful.

But then, even after fighting hard, if she was treated like a prostitute just because she had a curse on her body, maybe it would be better to do nothing at all. There was a time when she wanted to be recognized through effort, but now, she didn’t want to anymore. What was the point of trying so hard for something?

She knew it was cowardly to run away alone, leaving Luna behind. But Najane was scared too. Just because she was born first, just because she was an older sister, didn’t mean she could do everything perfectly.

Just because she wielded a sword didn’t mean she could protect everyone. When she couldn’t even take care of herself, was it wrong to ignore someone asking for help and run away?

Najane recalled the moment she had thrown a stone in the black market. When she had thrown the stone at the man who had mocked her as a bitch from the window, there was a loud thud. It was the sound of the stone hitting with all her strength.

She hadn’t fought fairly. She had thrown the stone barbarically. Afterward, she had felt a brief sense of relief, but then her chest became heavy, as if she had a lump in her throat. She tried to shake off that uncomfortable feeling and consoled herself, telling herself it was in self-defense.

Then she had seen the people Maximón had knocked down and thrown to the ground. Maximón had punished them. They had mocked Najane, who had been preparing for battle, saving time to look for Luna, fighting against the sacred relics of the Serith fortress without hesitation.

Had Maximón been wrong? No, he hadn’t been wrong. Then, was Najane wrong? No, Najane’s actions had been right.

Maximón had subdued the guard, who had been leering at Najane with a sticky gaze, using violence. The guard’s face had been slammed into the wall repeatedly, until his nose was crushed. The sound of the guard’s face hitting the wall was the same sound as when Najane had thrown the stone.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Najane didn’t flinch as she looked at the bright red blood on the bricks. She didn’t stop Maximón. She just quietly looked at the other guards. They couldn’t even look at her, fearing they would end up in the same state.

Violence was another way to be free from the gaze of others… Damn, those disgusting gazes.

When the guard’s face was covered in blood, the checkpoint became eerily quiet, as if no one was there. Just like this place. Everyone was busy moving around, but no one looked at Najane. They all walked their own paths, just like the people in the archive.

The day Maximón’s skin touched hers, Najane’s body made strange sounds. Every time Maximón’s body collided with hers, there was a thud, thud, as if something was breaking. Najane was afraid of Maximón, but at some point, she began to look at him directly.

She was no longer ashamed to share a bed with him. After intertwining with him, drenched in sweat as if they had trained for several hours, she even felt a sense of relief.

At first, she was afraid. Afraid of being pointed at, of being ridiculed as a loose woman who slept with a man who had a fiancée, of being treated like a prostitute rather than a knight.

Najane knew. She knew the rumors that had been circulating since she started living in the private residence. If Najane had been disgusted by their living together, Maximón would have sent her back to the knights’ quarters. But Najane did not.

Now, it didn’t hurt when Maximón entered her with a thud; it was satisfying. Even as she was suffocated by his body, which was like armor made of muscles, she loved it when he thrust into her, so much so that she wanted to cry like a child.

Maximón’s sex was violent. With the single-minded determination to fill the void that had existed since the beginning of time with his own body, he endlessly thrust into Najane’s body, which repeatedly reached climax and convulsed without rest.

As if warning her not to be caught up in any other thoughts while she was with him, he thrust his genitals into her thousands of times, ejaculated wetly, and then had sex again. When she begged him to stop and pushed against his chest, he bound her wrists without a moment’s hesitation.

Maximón would pin her grasped wrists to the bed and repeatedly ejaculate into Najane, who was covered in semen. When she faced Maximón naked, she couldn’t think of anything. Even when she strained her lower abdomen to accept Maximón’s body, she would soon give in.

She was satisfied to the point of being blinded several times by the tender violence. Even when her reddened and swollen lower body festered, she loved Maximón. She loved Maximón, who had forcefully broken down her boundaries and invaded her.

Everyone feels the urge to be broken. Because they are frustrated, bored, tired, capricious, angry, want to run away, want to abandon the things they have barely managed to protect…

Najane recalled the faces of the guards who protected the private residence.

If Maximón had been by my side, would you have looked at me like that? If I had beaten you to the brink of death like Maximón did, if I had gouged out your eyes that admired my body, you wouldn’t have dared to look down on me. If I had established the hierarchy with violence from the beginning, I wouldn’t have had to fear your gaze.

Najane imagined the soldiers being beaten by Maximón and chuckled at the sight. The laughter, mixed with ridicule and self-mockery, weighed heavily on Najane’s heart for a long time before slowly disappearing.

The reason Najane couldn’t be sure that she loved Maximón’s attitude towards her was that he had once denied his feelings in a conversation with Gwyneth, and because he expressed his emotions in a way that was quite different from ordinary people.

When Maximón brought Nedin’s ears, when he presented the two white ears, matted with blood, like a gift, she only thought that this man was truly insane.

But that was love.

Confining Najane to the private residence, retaliating as soon as he was sure that Nedin was behind her kidnapping, cutting off the two ears and bringing them back, and yet not killing Nedin, all the unusual and lukewarm actions he had taken so far…

Najane, who had carefully reflected on Maximón’s actions, smiled calmly.

Like a child.

You were even more clumsy than me in understanding and acknowledging your own feelings.

Najane tilted her head as if she had received a revelation from God and stared at the glass ceiling. The colorful light was so blinding that she closed her eyelids, and darkness fell. The light still poured onto her face, but Najane did not open her eyes.

She simply remained immersed in the darkness, thinking of Maximón in the quiet light.

Maximón.

Maximón.

Maximón…

The man who saved me with violence and restored my freedom.

You have been… constantly… with the power that tramples on life… from the beginning…