SOTBW - 44

It was night.

As always, the Romsoa Knights stood guard at the fourth wall. Najane was absent, but no one spoke her name. Whether by fortune or misfortune, neither the knights nor the soldiers had the time to think about her. With the number of the Seriths growing exponentially, they were barely surviving each night.

A young boy, looking no older than fifteen, trembled as he held a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. His wrist was tightly bound with a shield, enough to defend against a single blow, but as the soldiers who had surrounded him scattered to deal with the corpses, he was left alone in an instant.

Terrified, the boy tried to calm himself, convincing himself that he would be fine as he rushed toward a corpse that a soldier had just felled. The lower half of the body, like a dragonfly with its wings severed and neck cut off, struggled, reminding the boy of a scorpion. He hurriedly used the torch to cauterize the cut surface.

The foul, horrible smell of burning blue flesh and blood filled the air. The boy wrinkled his nose at the stench, reminiscent of rotten pork left to rot under the scorching summer sun.

The boy tried to breathe only through his mouth and quickly glanced around. Screams could be heard from all directions. One corpse latched onto a soldier’s face, tearing the helmet apart, and began chewing on the exposed head.

The soldier screamed, struggling desperately to pull the corpse off, but in no time, his face was completely surrounded by tentacles, and he could do nothing but flail about. As a horrific wail echoed, more corpses, searching for an easy meal, immediately swarmed onto the soldier.

The soldier’s armor was easily torn apart by the corpse’s claws. As the soldier fought to survive, corpses clung to his body, tearing away at his flesh. Staggering, the soldier finally collapsed face-first onto the cold dirt ground.

The boy, witnessing the carnage, slowly took a step back but collided with someone. Startled, he looked up to see seven yellow eyes gazing down at him. It was a Greater Corpse. The enormous creature, so large that the boy had to tilt his head back to see its face, quietly smiled at him.

The boy tried to run. Fighting these monsters was madness.

But he couldn’t move. As he tried to flee, his head was gently severed and fell backward. He stared blankly at his own body as it crashed to the cold, frozen ground. The Greater Corpse opened its mouth, shaped like a cross from chest to abdomen, and loudly chewed through the boy’s body.

Around its gluttonous mouth, severed fingers fell, blood trickling down. After finishing its meal, the Greater Corpse raised its head, looking for its next victim. With a sharp swoosh, its head was severed. Maximón cleaved the creature’s body in half, and then turned to look at the remaining boy soldiers who had stopped in their tracks.

The boy soldiers, overwhelmed by Maximón’s brutality, froze. The mercenaries who had taken control of the field were searching for the Cerise’s eyes in the Greater Corpse’s orbs but found Maximón instead, and halted in their tracks.

He snatched a torch from a hesitating soldier and thrust it into the creature’s throat. The massive body of the Greater Corpse was quickly engulfed in flames. Maximón’s cold gaze turned to the knights responsible for the rear guard.

“Useless bastards.”

He briefly glanced at the knights who had arrived late, then turned his back. The knights, unable to respond to Maximón’s reprimand, said nothing. Over the past few days, Maximón had shown unprecedented skill, but the knights were fatigued and unable to perform as usual.

With the number of Greater Corpses steadily increasing, the rear guard was rapidly collapsing. Fortunately, the fourth wall was holding thanks to Maximón, but if things continued like this, Romsoa might fall just like the other knight orders.

Maximón glared at the great wall where the Greater Corpses were descending and picked up a sword and spear from the ground, one after the other. Corpses with their heads pierced by the spears screamed in agony as they fell to the earth. He swiftly cut down several approaching corpses with a single strike, and without realizing it, his thoughts turned to Najane.

Had he ever thought about someone this much before?

Had he ever longed for someone this much, even during the battle with those damn Seriths?

Maximón gritted his teeth and quickly beheaded the head of a Greater Corpse charging toward him. Blue blood poured over him like winter rain.

He glared at the Seriths, drenched in the blue blood. The Greater Corpses, who had been rushing toward the Romsoa knights, paused in fear. For a brief moment, Maximón’s eyes gleamed a pale, silvery color.

He charged at the hesitating Greater Corpses, swiftly severing several of their heads. Cutting off the tails that came at him like heavy iron maces and the hands used as weapons, even the strongest of the Greater Corpses were reduced to little more than giant pigs for a brief time. The knights, mostly stationed at the front, immediately raised their shields and charged as soon as Maximón cut off the hands of a Greater Corpse.

The limbs, sticky with blue blood, slowly grew cold. As the winter night deepened, white breath escaped from the knights’ mouths.

Winter battles were truly the worst. With the relentless onslaught of the Greater Corpses, they couldn’t rest for a moment. Their limbs grew weak, their chests felt as though they would burst from labored breaths, and the constant attacks from the corpses behind them kept their nerves on edge. Only Maximón and Belshua remained clear-headed at the front lines.

At that moment, a white light flashed from the area around the third wall. Many turned their gazes toward it before resuming the battle.

It was Taylor Elderkerth. Having been suffering from severe pain after overusing his sword energy in the past few days, Taylor had come to the field to assist the Recheo Knights.

From a distance, cheers of welcome for Taylor could be heard. Maximón gazed quietly at the sword energy Taylor unleashed, taking down more than five of the Seriths in one go. For a brief moment, as the brilliant sword energy flashed through the darkness, he thought that Najane had escaped from her mansion.

The thought that Najane had ignored his words and managed to get outside filled him with a rush of anger and disappointment. But as soon as he realized it was Taylor using the sword energy, he quickly regained his composure. “That damn idiot,” Maximón cursed inwardly, hitting an approaching creature with his fist.

Why is Maximón obsessed with Najane? He doesn’t know. He never seriously thought about it.

He just needed Najane. But when she asked him if he loved her, he was certain the answer was no.

Maximón doesn’t love Najane. This is definitely not love. Maximón had no idea what “love” even meant.

He had never understood how to love, so how could he possibly love Najane Schnicks?

He had learned about affection through Edwin, but he had never loved a living being. What he wanted was to monopolize Edwin Elgort’s paternal affection, not to love Edwin Elgort.

Even now, if it meant taking Edwin’s attention, he would gladly sacrifice someone. But he didn’t want Najane to die. In fact, he wished for her to live a long life. Maximón loved being with Najane, kissing her, and having sex with her.

Why?

He couldn’t answer this question easily because he had never seriously thought about such things. Then, he suddenly remembered that he still hadn’t replied to Edwin’s letter.

He had forgotten again because he was thinking about Najane. He had forgotten to reply twice. This was shocking. Edwin must have been waiting eagerly for the letter...

At that moment, Maximón realized that Edwin and Najane were similar. Yes, they were alike. Both of them were self-sacrificing, generous, and forgiving.

Edwin was a lord who had the duty to execute criminals every season, but he gave those who showed repentance a chance. Some criticized Edwin for being too soft. But looking back, it was precisely because of his nature that Edwin had always embraced Maximón and forgave Lucas.

Maximón thought that Edwin was the only one who could accept him. Even if he didn’t understand that Maximón was not human, Edwin could still warmly accept him without caring...

Maximón was obsessed with Edwin, but he knew that his adoptive father’s priority was Lucas. How could a father give up his own son? That was why Maximón hated Lucas. That bastard who had taken Edwin’s eternal paternal love without making any effort.

There was a time when Maximón also longed for affection from someone other than Edwin. For example, his teacher, Taylor Elderketh. But Taylor had many beloved disciples, not just Maximón. Though he nearly died when the Seriths invaded.

More than anything, Taylor did not give Maximón the attention and affection he craved. If Maximón had been able to monopolize Taylor’s affection and attention, he might have been devoted to his teacher.

The reason Maximón was obsessed with Edwin was because no one else could make him feel human. No one but Edwin could inflict emotional pain on Maximón. No one except Edwin...

Maximón was about to stab a crawling creature with his sword, but he hesitated.

He had given up his red heart for Najane. Every time he thought about how she had pushed him away, it became hard to breathe, suffocating him with unbearable frustration. The pain from that time still felt vivid.

Wasn’t it more agonizing than when he realized that Edwin’s paternal affection was meant to protect Lucas?

Najane was another person who could inflict emotional pain on Maximón. Come to think of it, why had he been hurt by her attitude? How had he ended up limping like a discarded dog, rejected by her gaze and actions? Why had he lost himself and been so helpless in front of her?

Love?

Is that what love is?

No.

Love isn’t like that.

Maximón didn’t know what it felt like to love someone, what kind of emotion it was. He only understood it intellectually because of Edwin.

Love is a great thing. It is the kind of heart that would willingly sacrifice one’s life for the other, the kind of joy and happiness that comes just from looking at that person. That’s what love is.

But Maximón wasn’t happy when he looked at Najane. On the contrary, the more he faced her, the more fearful and anxious he became.

Perhaps he should kill Najane Schnicks. Maybe if he preserved her like a specimen and kept her by his side, it wouldn’t be so bad.

For a brief moment, Maximón imagined slitting Najane’s neck with his sword. As he envisioned the blood spurting from her slender neck, instinctively, Maximón withdrew the sword he had been aiming at the creature.

Indeed, it would be troublesome if Najane died. Maximón wished that she would embrace him. He hoped she would kindly hold him, her body cold from fighting the Seriths, and praise him for a job well done. He wished she would look at him with that gaze she always had—understanding and helping useless humans—just for him.

Perhaps...

Perhaps, because of that hope that Najane might understand and accept him...

If Najane, who was soft enough to forgive and keep close Amelia, who betrayed him, and who would readily wield her sword to save soldiers who had no connection to her, and who had fought the Seriths knowing she was being used by mercenaries, then...

Could Najane love him?

Even if she didn’t understand him, wouldn’t she accept him?

Perhaps, like Edwin.

No, even more than Edwin.

After all, she needed him.

Najane, you can’t live without me.

If things went well, maybe he could become everything to her.

If no one remained for her, if everyone turned their back on her, wouldn’t she naturally come to love him?

If that happened, wouldn’t her heart for forgiving others, her self-sacrifice to help, be for him alone?

Maximón gazed at the darkening sky as if he had just discovered the truth.

He had never imagined that anyone other than Edwin would love and accept him, so for a moment, he was confused. But then, thinking from another angle, the answer came to him quickly.

How had he felt when Najane pushed him away? It had been unbearable, as if his very existence had been denied.

If he saw Najane with someone else, happy together, his insides would twist. If anyone other than him could break Najane’s curse, Maximón would feel an uncontainable rage, his whole body tensing. If that was the case, the answer had been clear from the start.

Maximón wanted Najane to want him. He wanted her to forgive him and accept him, no matter what mistakes he made. He wanted her to love no one but him and give everything for him.

Only then did he organize his feelings and smile quietly to himself.

I see.

It’s not that I love Najane; it’s that I want to be loved by her.

Now Maximón finally understood why he had always disliked and been irritated by Amelia Royan. He had wanted to monopolize Najane from the very beginning. He instinctively knew that Najane was the only one who could replace Edwin, so he wanted to get rid of Amelia.

Maximón stomped on the head of a crawling creature, crushing it, and swiftly severed the wrist of a Serith aiming its claws at his head. Cold blood spurted from the wrist like a fountain. Maximón, delighted as if he had solved a difficult problem, mocked the Serith, not killing it immediately, but cutting and prodding it several times.

Blue blood sprayed thinly along the tip of his sword. He toyed with the creature like a bug that had lost its wings, then, digging into the stench-filled monster’s body, he thrust his sword upward with all his strength. The Serith, impaled through the chin and head, staggered before collapsing to the side.

Maximón severed the Serith’s head and tossed it far away before looking up at the sky where the moon was rising.

Finally, his mind felt lighter.

If Edwin doesn’t give up on Lucas, it’s fine to find someone else.

Najane will become the new Edwin.

Soft-hearted Najane.

Kind Najane.

Weak Najane.

If he cried and begged, looking like a child in sorrow, she would have no choice but to accept him.

Maximón, faintly smiling, cut down a Serith who had been aiming for his side with a single stroke. He looked visibly pleased. Somewhere in his mind, ideas were already swirling about quietly eliminating Amelia and monopolizing Najane’s attention.

As he disposed of the relentless creature, Maximón thought about who else might be by Najane’s side, besides Amelia. She seemed to be getting along pretty well with Daniel... Maximón’s gaze shifted to Daniel, struggling with a Serith, before pausing for a moment.

Come to think of it, he had completely forgotten that he had met Najane in the black market.

Why was she even there?

If she wasn’t looking for a man to relieve her lust...

“We were free people of the Kingdom of Elgort, not slaves.”

Maximón’s mind briefly echoed with Najane’s voice.

We.

She had definitely said “we.”

Only then did Maximón recall that Najane was looking for someone. He clenched his teeth, reminded that he had been deprived of Edwin’s love because of Lucas. Before Najane found that someone, he needed to get rid of them quickly. Otherwise...

Maximón, brushing his blood-soaked hair back, let out a long sigh. His excited, dark green eyes glowed darker and more beautifully than ever before.