SOTBW - 37

Maximón felt anxious but convinced himself that it couldn’t be true, so he continued to ignore Najane. He had successfully changed his heart, hadn’t he? He put the red heart into a box, wanting to avoid the pain as if he had caught some illness. So, the unease he was feeling now was just an illusion. He had confused it with the irritation caused by fatigue from overexerting himself in the field.

While waiting for Najane, he had forgotten that he needed to send a letter to Edwin. He no longer even wanted to send it. He couldn’t even remember what he had written in the letter.

Slowly, Maximón began to realize that something was wrong, and he drifted through days and nights as if in a daze. When he realized that Najane would never open his door, he understood that changing his heart had been meaningless. The reason? Maximón himself didn’t know.

In the past, he had felt an illusion of briefly becoming an ordinary person when he tore out the blue heart from his body, though it was all ruined because of Lucas.

But what did that matter? Maximón no longer feared Najane. Whether she pushed him away or not, it didn’t matter. He could ignore the disappointment that would come from the things Maximón Elgort had done.

Yes, Maximón was no longer…

“What does Najane mean?”

“In the ancient language of Elgort, it means ‘blue barley field.’”

“An ill-suited name.”

At that moment, in fact, the light from the torches and cannons shining on her profile was beautiful.

The truth was, Maximón had been running away. He was afraid that Najane would hate his selfish life. Every time he thought of Najane, unfamiliar and fearful emotions surfaced. He couldn’t admit that he needed her.

When Maximón noticed Najane sitting hunched in the corridor, smoking, he hoped it wasn’t drugs or a sedative. If she hated him enough to depend on such a deadly drug that would shorten her life, then…

Maximón lifted Najane’s chin. She lowered her gaze, as if exhausted by the situation. His heart raced. Maximón withdrew his hand like a frightened person, but she didn’t notice it.

“Are you still smoking that cheap drug?”

“No. That can’t be it.”

“You’re lying well, reeking of a horrible smell.”

“Why would I lie to you, sir? What benefit would that bring me?”

Najane once again lowered her head and laughed lightly. Maximón almost shouted at her to stop smiling that way, but he rubbed his face instead.

The words he had spoken to her earlier came to mind. He wanted to strangle himself. Facing Najane, the emotions he had desperately tried to ignore returned to him one by one, like a boomerang.

“Are you in heat?”

He asked, finally, in a desperate tone.

But Najane shook her head.

“No, I’m perfectly fine.”

“You came to my room five days ago. Are you telling me that your heat, which comes every other day, suddenly ended?”

“Did it? I don’t really remember. I’ve been so busy lately…”

“Are you asking me to believe that?”

Maximón, frustrated, spoke, then flinched. Najane looked at him silently and then slowly smiled. He knew that smile was a mask. She looked past Maximón, signaling that she wanted to end the conversation.

“Sir, don’t worry about this, just go back inside. It’s quite cold out here.”

As soon as her words ended, the sound of a cannon from the castle wall echoed. Cannons were usually only fired when monsters were overly concentrated in one place, or when a large number of corpses had infiltrated the walls.

If it had been the usual Maximón, he would have immediately looked at the castle walls at the sound of the cannon. However, the only person who looked toward the walls was Najane.

Maximón still kept his gaze fixed on Najane. Flames flickered all the way to the corridor where they were standing. Watching Najane staring into the distance, Maximón deliberately spoke coldly.

“It seems like you really don’t want to talk to me much.”

“That’s right.”

Najane looked directly at Maximón as she spoke. She truly despised how he suddenly tried to stir her up. She no longer cared to know what he was thinking. She had no room to accommodate his erratic behavior, nor did she have the heart to understand it.

With as cold a look as possible, she faced Maximón.

“Sir, I’ll stay here as long as I think I’m useful. I’ll enjoy the benefits of being a knight and then leave. Although I became a knight without any sense of duty, I won’t cowardly run away or neglect my responsibilities, so you don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’ll take care of my curse myself. Actually, the whole thing was strange from the start. So… please just leave me alone now.”

She said those words with emphasis. Maximón didn’t answer. He just looked down at her. Najane coldly smiled as she looked at Maximón’s emotionless face.

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“...What?”

“No matter how much I think about it, I don’t understand why you’ve changed so coldly. If you didn’t hate me, how could you...?”

As Najane raised her voice, she suddenly clenched her eyes shut and fell silent.

“Please, just go back to your quarters. Please.”

Najane thought Maximón would definitely get angry. Anticipating an outpour of harsh words, she quickly turned her head, but Maximón said nothing. Cautiously, Najane looked up at him.

Could it be that he was so angry that he couldn’t even say a word?

She just wanted the situation to end quickly. She was afraid of wasting more emotional energy and foolishly harboring vain expectations.

Najane bit her lower lip slightly, unsure of what to do, looking like a child being punished. In the shimmering darkness, Maximón looked down at Najane and quietly brushed his bangs aside. He turned to leave, but his feet didn’t move, and he found himself staring at her again.

In that brief moment, Maximón realized that he no longer existed within Najane. Their relationship had deteriorated to something worse than strangers, and he came to realize, one by one, that it all started because of him, and that he had gone too far to turn back.

He silently stepped back. In situations like this, he didn’t know what to do. In his life, he had never had the opportunity to make mistakes. Everything had always been at Maximón’s feet, and anything he disliked—whether it was a person or an object—was discarded or removed.

“...Sir?”

Since Maximón didn’t respond, she spoke. At that moment, another bell rang from the castle wall. Startled, Najane grabbed her sword and looked toward the walls. From afar, she could hear someone cursing, “Hey, you bastard! Don’t ring the bell at any time!”

For a moment, Najane was stunned but soon realized that the bell ringing had been a mistake by one of the sentries. After a brief sigh, she looked toward Maximón’s position, but by then, he was already gone.

________________________________________

Najane, who had been nodding off, jolted awake at the sound of birds flying overhead. The morning sunlight was brightly streaming into the courtyard in front of the main building. Rubbing her face, she got up from her spot. Thin smoke was rising from the castle walls.

Quickly clearing the sleep from her eyes, Najane grabbed her sword and headed to the field. There, countless soldiers were moving the corpses of the papal army. The bodies were being taken to the crematorium in the corner of the fortress for burning. It wasn’t unusual for many bodies to pile up, but this time, the damage seemed particularly severe.

Najane, staring at the bodies of the dead that were sizzling under the sunlight, watched a priest kneeling on the blood-soaked ground, praying. The surviving knights were weeping as they mourned the fallen soldiers. Seeing that scene disturbed her. It was the first time she had seen someone cry in the field.

As she watched the grieving people, she quietly clasped her hands. The content of her prayer wasn’t much, but she sincerely wished for peace for everyone here.

When Najane finished praying and opened her eyes, the winter sunlight was blinding. Just then, the sound of footsteps came from behind her.

Looking to the side, she saw a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, making a shadow over her eyebrows with her hand as she looked into the distance. Najane noticed the woman’s violet-colored eyes shimmering like jewels. It was such a beautiful color, almost so mesmerizing that she mistook it for a gemstone.

“How tragic. To think this war has lasted twelve years, isn’t it incredible?”

The woman was dressed in a priest’s robe. Najane followed the woman’s gaze and stared at the wall, stained with all sorts of blood. It was a scene she had seen countless times, but under the unusually bright sunlight, the wall’s desolation seemed even more grotesque. Najane lowered her gaze and then turned to the woman.

“Are you a priest who works at the infirmary?”

“Me? Well, I do work there sometimes. But not all the time. Anyway, that sword...”

The woman looked at the Holy Sword with an expression of curiosity. Najane quickly supported the sword with both hands and showed it to her. The woman glanced over the sword’s condition before looking at Najane.

“This must be the sword that the Archbishop gave to Maximón Elgort. Why do you have it?”

“Ah, it’s a long story. I... borrowed it for a while, I guess... Anyway, that’s the situation.”

“Hmm. Does the sword fit your hand well?”

“Yes, it’s very light, doesn’t freeze in winter, and it would be a waste to use it just to deal with corpses. It’s truly a magnificent sword. Would you like to take a look?”

“Thank you for saying so much.”

The woman smiled gently and took the Holy Sword. She drew the sword smoothly, and as she raised it high, the thin blade gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight.

Najane stared silently at the Holy Sword in the woman’s hands. Strangely, the sword seemed to shimmer as if dusted with silver powder. Was it always like that, or had she only just noticed?

Najane tilted her head slightly.

As the woman inspected the blade from different angles, she asked Najane a question.

“Isn’t the Holy Sword heavy?”

“I think it’s just the right weight. Other swords tend to strain my wrist, but I’ve never felt that with this one.”

“If you’re using this, then what is Maximón fighting with? Is he still using an ordinary sword to strike the Eucharist?”

“Probably...”

“Well, he’s so stubborn, he probably couldn’t use something so precious even if he had it. The sword has finally found its true owner.”

The woman smiled and handed the Holy Sword back to Najane. Najane hesitated for a moment as she put the sword back on her waist. The sword felt warm. Was it because it had been in the sunlight? As she gripped the scabbard, a warm sensation spread through her, as though she were holding a stone that had just been heated by a fire.

“By the way, you have a rather unusual tattoo on your chest.”

The woman pointed at Najane’s chest. Surprised, Najane followed her finger and immediately grabbed her jacket with a flustered expression. Could she be talking about the curse? Najane quickly composed herself. The woman’s finger lowered as she smiled softly.

“Oh, did I startle you by mentioning it suddenly? Sorry. I’m a bit special, so I can see things that others can’t.”

“....”

As she lowered her gaze, Najane didn’t know what to say. Was it because she was a priest and had noticed it, or perhaps because she was the one who had engraved the curse herself? Najane’s eyes hardened slightly. There was no one she could trust in this place.

Seeing her expression stiffen, the woman laughed loudly.

“You don’t have to be so wary. We’ll meet again.”

The woman draped her arm over Najane’s shoulder and whispered quietly.

“But remember this. The more you suppress that curse, the stronger the backlash will be. Right now, it seems like you’re holding up with medicine, but the cost will be steep the more you try to endure it. Do you understand? You might not get it now, but I’m telling you this for your sake. So...”

The woman trailed off and suddenly pressed her palm against the spot where the curse was. In that split second, a warm sensation rushed into Najane’s chest. Surprised, Najane slapped the woman’s hand away and stepped back. The woman gently patted Najane’s head and then gave her back a light tap.

“Well, I’ll see you again, Najane.”

The woman, now wearing a hood adorned with the symbol of the Holy Church, left the field. Najane stood still, jumping over the corpses as she watched the woman walk away. Had she told her, her name? Najane quickly blinked, replaying the image of the woman who had already disappeared from the field.

Now that she thought about it, the violet eyes were clearly a symbol of a divine ability.

Could it be...?

Her face turned pale as she quickly turned her body and looked toward the castle gates.

“Archbishop Gwyneth Spello...”

Only then did Najane realize the woman’s true identity, and she felt embarrassed, covering her face with her palm. The thought that she hadn’t recognized a divine ability user right away made her entire body flush with heat. Until that moment, Najane hadn’t realized what the woman had done to her body.