SOTBW - 46

Maximón ignored the knights of Romsoa waiting at the barracks and headed straight for the residence. He wanted to see Najane. Since his conversation with Taylor, only Najane had occupied his thoughts.

Najane was probably very angry with him. He had kept her locked in the residence for four days, so it was understandable.

As Maximón walked quickly, he kept thinking about what Najane liked and what she might like. He wanted to keep her away from the battlefield at all costs, but Najane would stubbornly take up her sword and fight.

If he told her he would solve the curse without her fulfilling her duty as a knight, she would likely be furious and accuse him of insulting her.

The problem was that he couldn’t explain to Najane why she shouldn’t use her sword technique. Maximón knew that by sending Najane to the battlefield, she would die, and if he mentioned that, it would surely put him in an awkward position. He couldn’t afford to be hated by her any more than he already was.

Since Taylor had said she would ask Gwyneth for a healer’s support, he needed to keep Najane confined until the healer arrived at the fortress. He needed to make sure she didn’t fight the higher-class monsters, and if she did encounter one, she mustn’t use her sword technique.

Maximón’s mind was working more sharply than ever. Najane had reluctantly become a knight under his coercion, but she tried her best to fulfill her duties as a swordswoman, determined to use her sword technique.

Preventing her from using her sword technique had been impossible from the beginning. But if there was someone ridiculously weak by her side, perhaps she would try to avoid reckless fights to protect them. Someone with no talent for fighting who would hold her back if necessary.

Amelia.

Amelia Royan.

Maximón let out a dry laugh. He never expected that woman would end up being of help like this.

If Amelia fought against a creature, Najane wouldn’t easily leave her side, concerned for her. Amelia, unlike Najane, had never picked up a sword or received training; she was an ordinary woman, and her chances of falling prey to Seriths were high. If she were caught by Seriths along with the slow-moving young soldiers, that wouldn’t be such a bad outcome.

In fact, it would be a relief. Maximón had always planned to kill Amelia one day. Amelia’s existence was somewhat similar to Lucas’ in Maximón’s eyes. She was Najane’s weakness, but at the same time, the only obstacle preventing Maximón from possessing her entirely.

Maximón had been too afraid of Edwin’s wrath to kill Lucas, but Amelia’s case was different. She and Najane were neither sisters nor relatives, just a simple connection from meeting in the Romsoa knights’ order.

The reason she hadn’t left the order because of Amelia was probably due to Najane’s inherent kindness, her naivety from experiencing various human relationships for the first time, and her tender heart that couldn’t stand to see someone suffer because of her.

That was who Najane had always been. If someone asked for help, she couldn’t just ignore it; she had to assist them. She had been like that for as long as Maximón could remember. That was why they had once misunderstood each other during a late-night patrol in an alley.

Her kind and soft personality had caused her trouble many times, but she would always say that the world needed fools like her in order to maintain peace...

Maximón, smiling to himself as he thought of Najane, suddenly stopped in his tracks. His face grew cold. He had met Najane in an alley late at night? And they had misunderstood each other, he wondered, when...

He awkwardly covered his stiff mouth with his palm. His mind was in turmoil from the unexpected memory. But what confused Maximón wasn’t just the memory.

It was this feeling that made his insides twist, the sensation that was slowly choking him, making it impossible to think of anything.

This was the first time he had ever experienced such a situation. Had he ever met Najane before? No. That was impossible.

Maximón had first seen Najane the day after the creatures had scaled the walls, in the dressing room. He had immediately been captivated by her beautiful, flowing, brown hair. How could he have forgotten that? Her forehead, her long eyelashes, and her dark red eyes that would sometimes glance at him when she gathered the courage to look up at him...

Soldiers who arrived at the Romsoa knights’ building shot strange glances at Maximón. Still standing in place, Maximón looked down at the shattered ice beneath his feet, like spider webs. After fighting dozens of creatures until dawn, his head must have been a mess.

He quickly started walking. He wanted to see Najane. Would she be happy if he told her he had defeated so many creatures? Edwin loved hearing about Maximón’s exploits at the fortress, but he wasn’t sure what Najane would enjoy hearing. Now, he had made too many foolish mistakes to be praised by her.

Maximón bit his lower lip as he stared at the secluded residence. He hadn’t seen Najane in over four days, and now he wondered how her condition was. Had she solved the problem in another way, perhaps with someone else?

If something had happened to Najane’s body, Didina would have reported it immediately, but there had been no such reports in the past four days. All they had heard was that she wasn’t eating well and was sleeping lightly.

A sense of unease crept over him. Najane’s curse wasn’t something that could be solved quickly. It wasn’t some crude curse carved by slave traders, but a genuine curse that only someone who had studied magic for a long time could inscribe.

Her curse had to continue for a while. Only then would Najane be unable to leave Maximón. Even if she tried to escape, the curse would bring her back. That curse was the only thing that would keep them connected in the future.

Maximón began to run as soon as he reached the hill leading to the residence. Despite running at full speed, he wasn’t out of breath. There were no soldiers around the high walls surrounding the house. Only pale, dead trees stood there, their branches stripped of life.

He stumbled inside, exhausted, as the door to the residence swung wide open. The crackling sound of burning firewood filled the room. Maximón slowly surveyed the house, where the cold winter wind blew freely through the open spaces.

There was no one in the residence. His face drained of color as he hurriedly opened every door.

“Najane...”

After searching the upstairs rooms and attic thoroughly, he called her name again, like someone who had lost their way.

“Najane!”

Shouting at the top of his lungs, Maximón ripped the red curtains fluttering in the northern wind with all his strength. The curtain rod bent under his force and fell to the ground with a loud crash. The broken rod finally stopped making noise when it struck Maximón’s boot. Holding the coarse fabric of the curtain, he gazed at the tear in it before looking at the half-open window.

Maximón, stunned by the shock of Najane’s disappearance, temporarily forgot how to breathe. He knew he should quickly assemble a search party, but he couldn’t move from where he stood. An ominous thought crossed his mind: if he didn’t find Najane quickly, he might never see her again.

No.

That couldn’t happen.

Najane was the only new haven Maximón had found. He was both surprised and confused by how angry she was with him, unsure of what to do next. Even if he found her, could he still be loved by her? Would she care for him the way Edwin did?

What if she finally said she hated him, that she wanted nothing to do with him?

Fear and anxiety made his heart feel like it was going to burst. His heartbeats echoed in his ears, and for a moment, he thought about ripping his chest open with his sword again. But then, suddenly, he realized that Najane would never do something like this alone. She couldn’t have left without Amelia.

Something was off. Now that he thought about it, where had the soldiers who should have been guarding the residence gone?

He had ordered at least ten soldiers to guard it in shifts...

Maximón let go of the curtain he had been clutching and listened for footsteps approaching the house. The sound of clumsy, unsteady steps grew closer. He was certain it wasn’t Najane, and quietly drew his sword.

The soldier who had boldly entered the residence was a regular man. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and froze when he saw Maximón.

Maximón stabbed his sword into the soldier’s side, stopping him from escaping. The soldier slammed his face into the wall, blood streaming from his nose as he let out a high-pitched scream. Maximón’s eyes glowed with intensity. The soldier thrashed in pain but stopped resisting when he felt the cold breath on the back of his neck.

“Where did Najane go?”

“I-I don’t know anything…”

Before the soldier could finish his sentence, Maximón drove the sword deeper. As the sharp blade dug between his joints, the soldier screamed and pleaded.

“She... she went to the barley field, behind the knights’ headquarters! She went to the barley field to take a carriage...!”

Maximón pulled the sword out, and blood poured from the wound. He watched the soldier sob as he collapsed to the floor before swiftly cutting his ankle. The soldier let out a painful cry without realizing the tendons had been severed. Maximón struck the back of the soldier’s head with the hilt of his sword.

Stepping outside the residence, Maximón was momentarily blinded by the bright morning sunlight. Though he had heard that Najane had gone to the barley field, he stood there momentarily, unsure of where to go. He hesitated, as if he had lost his sense of direction, like someone whose limbs had frozen in place.

She had said she was going to take a carriage to the barley field...

That meant someone was helping Najane escape.

Maximón looked down at the blood dripping from his sword and then gazed at the grass stained red with it. He recalled the time when he had gotten lost in the Marquis Elgort’s rose garden. He had managed to find the exit on his own, but had once crouched under a thorny hedge, waiting for Edwin.

From somewhere in the tangled garden, the sound of Lucas crying echoed. The whole situation had happened because they had made a bet about who would escape the rose garden first.

Maximón had known it all along. Edwin would be the one to rush to Lucas.

Still, he had waited. He had behaved well for a while, thinking that after his father went to Lucas, he might hurry back to him. As the sun dipped lower, he wondered if Edwin would comfort Lucas, like he had when the evening grew dark, and would he embrace him warmly, just as he expected.

When Edwin called out to Lucas first and embraced him, Maximón felt a slight disappointment, but he convinced himself it was inevitable. Yes, who would love someone like me first? I don’t even love myself. I don’t even really understand what love is.

Perhaps I’m not even human...

Maximón gripped his sword so tightly that his fingers turned white as he ran across the dry grass. His white breath covered his face, dissipating into the air in all directions. Staring at the horizon leading to the barley field, he cried out like an abandoned child.