SOTBW - 169

Maximón, who did not believe in God, had come here for Najane alone. Jacob thought it might have been better if Maximón had gone to a real church, but lately, he couldn’t understand what was going on in Maximón’s mind at all.

After Najane collapsed, Maximón had not gone into the field. Fortunately, the Serith faction had not attacked the Noctis Fortress since that day, but it was not good for the commander of the knights to often leave the field.

Since falling in love with Najane, Maximón had changed a lot. Jacob was uneasy about that. He had a bad feeling that something bad would happen because of it, and he was certain that with his abilities, he would never be able to prevent the misfortune that was about to strike.

Was it too selfish to wish that Maximón would return to the cold, emotionless person he used to be?

With his mouth shut, Jacob sighed deeply through his nose and looked up at the clear sky.

Maximón was kneeling in the middle of the shack that the soldiers had crudely built.

Inside the shack, there were no chairs, and the stained cross was so large that it almost touched the ceiling. It seemed that they hadn’t thought to put in windows when they built the place, and so a makeshift skylight had been added, through which the pale sunlight filtered in.

Maximón stared at the sunlight and dust floating near his knees, then looked up at the starry cross. He had never been to a church, so this was his first time praying.

He didn’t know what to do, so he just knelt and stared at the cross. He had a lot to say, but when faced with the cross, words failed him.

So, he silently thought about the things he had done under the cross.

If he had confessed his feelings for Najane and talked about the sword aura when he first realized them, things wouldn’t have escalated to this point. He had been afraid of not being loved by Najane, always anxious that she would be disappointed by his inhuman side and leave him.

But now, Maximón thought it would have been better to have been abandoned by Najane.

It would have been better than her dying.

Even if she felt betrayed and left far away, Maximón’s remaining time would have become numb and meaningless, as if he had lost his soul, but that was still better than Najane’s life being cut short. Just knowing that Najane was alive somewhere in this world was enough to bring Maximón comfort.

Therefore, Maximón cursed his own cowardice and bowed his head.

His greed and humility, which made him unwilling to be separated from Najane, had driven her to her death. There was no way to turn things back.

Taylor had said that whenever Najane used the sword aura and felt exhausted, it was a sign that something was wrong with her body. But now, Najane was bleeding from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth and had completely lost consciousness.

Najane had fought with the Holy Body until her body went cold, lying still with her face buried in the snow. Only when he embraced the stone-like Najane did Maximón fully realize what he had done.

It was clear where the tragedy had started.

To ease his innate anxiety and loneliness, Maximón had longed for Najane’s sincere affection. And once he started receiving her love, he became obsessed with having everything she had. No matter how much he was loved, it never felt enough.

Like a cursed person destined to starve to death, he tried to push Najane’s place to the edge, wanting her to look only at him. Even though he knew how much suffering this would bring her, Maximón couldn’t stop his selfish actions.

Maximón’s hand, resting on the ground, trembled faintly.

He couldn’t lose Najane.

He had always despised people and found them irritating, so he thought that it would be impossible for him to ever love anyone. Maximón didn’t even know why he had become so obsessed with love out of all the emotions.

He was simply a creation of this nature.

Anything with form cannot be immortal, and those who are not immortal are insecure, and insecurity always leads to doubt.

However, being remembered by others does not symbolize eternity.

Eternity is that which does not change. It is that which remains unshaken even when storms rage. It is that which does not change its color, even in the face of temptation and threats. It is that which is beautiful and brilliant to everyone. It feels distant, as if it cannot be touched, but, depending on one’s will, it is something that can be close to us...

If one can preserve an unchanging emotion from birth to death, that in itself is immortality and eternity. Maximón saw this noble and graceful emotion in Edwin.

Love.

The love for family, friends, and lovers.

Even if no traces are left in poetry, novels, or paintings, if the person themselves does not change…

But Maximón thought that someone like him could never love anyone, so he chose to be loved instead.

He never expected to fall in love with Najane. Najane was the only world Maximón could accept. With Najane, he could let her dig through his insides. He could trample her, insult her, spit on her, and if it was Najane doing it, there would undoubtedly be a reason for it.

Maximón blamed himself, thinking that if he had loved Najane earlier, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. If he had fallen in love at first sight, or if he had been kinder…

He knelt before the cross as if confessing his sins, silently swallowing his tears. He couldn’t say anything.

For the past two days, Najane had been lying still, showing no signs of waking. Despite calling the best healing priests from Noctis and nearby cities, and even receiving help from a divine power user, Najane continued to sleep quietly, as though she were on the verge of death.

Maximón waited, feeling like a knife was stabbing his heart a thousand times over, hoping for Najane to wake up. Waiting was all he could do. There was nothing else he could offer. Every night, by Najane’s side, he wept, repeating how sorry he was.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Najane… I’m sorry for loving you. Would it have been better if I hadn’t loved you? If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have made you a knight. I would have just kicked you out of Romsoa. And I would live my life as a monster who knows nothing of love. That would have been better than watching you die by my side… I’m too selfish and insecure to love you. Why is loving so hard when it should be just like others? I would let myself be trampled to death for you, but you were slowly dying while loving me… I was killing you. I knew this would happen, but I cowardly acted for my own sake. I just wanted to be loved by you… Just for that reason… I ruined you for wanting your love…”

Maximón lowered his head and clasped his hands.

He wished for all the pain that Najane had borne to fall upon him. If someone had to suffer, he wanted it to be himself.

Tears streamed down his face.

If I were a proper person, if I had been kind and gentle, if I had prioritized your happiness over my anxiety...

“Don’t make Mardis cry.”

“My love…”

In that moment, a voice passed through Maximón’s mind, and the outside of the shack became noisy. Maximón turned his gaze to the door as if receiving a revelation.

Jacob, who had been standing outside, quickly spoke to someone before urgently calling out.

“Commander. Najane…”

Before Jacob could finish his sentence, Maximón swung the door open. His eyes mixed with hope and despair as he looked at Jacob.

Jacob, seeing Maximón’s tear-streaked face, was momentarily stunned but quickly spoke calmly.

“Najane has woken up… Commander!”

Maximón, without a second thought, ran out, and Jacob called after him.

Maximón ran full speed toward the residence. Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky. His usually neat hair was wildly tousled by the biting wind.

He had taken off his shoes briefly while praying, so he was barefoot, but he ran through the snowy ground as if he couldn’t feel the cold.

By the time he reached the residence, his hair and shoulders were damp with snow. Despite running at full speed, his breath was steady, but the thought of seeing Najane suddenly made him tense up. He wiped his chest and took a few deep breaths.

Maximón, wiping away his frozen tears roughly, entered the residence. Before knocking on the bedroom door, he glanced at his appearance. He didn’t want to show Najane the mess he had become.

Realizing he was barefoot, Maximón looked around as if he had lost money while running errands, but then he froze upon sensing a familiar presence beyond the door.

The bedroom door quietly opened. Maximón slowly turned his head to look. There, standing in the doorway, was Najane in white pajamas.

Silence hung between them.

Maximón didn’t know what to say. Should he greet her humorously, saying it had been a while, or ask seriously if she was okay? He was about to say something but ended up staying silent.

Maximón’s face slowly twisted as he watched the flushed, swollen skin around Najane’s eyes, nose, and cheeks.

He wanted to hug Najane. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, standing there frozen, swallowing his trembling breath.

“Najane…”

As Maximón muttered her name in a choked voice, a slender arm wrapped around his neck. Najane, on tiptoe, embraced him without a word and closed her eyes.

As the warmth spread from his cold, stiff neck and ears, thick tears fell from Maximón’s eyes. Only then did he wrap his arms around Najane, burying his face in her warm shoulder.

The familiar scent he had longed for drifted from Najane’s skin. In the intense, burning pain in his chest, Maximón hugged her tightly.

“...I’m sorry.”

He repeated the same words, gently stroking the back of Najane’s small head.

“...I’m sorry, Najane.”

Najane didn’t respond but remained silently in Maximón’s embrace. Maximón held her tightly, lowering himself down to the floor by the door.

“I’m sorry...”

He placed Najane’s limbs gently on his body, as though not wanting them to touch the floor, and looked up at her face, which he longed for. Najane smiled calmly, as if everything was fine. Maximón was certain that she didn’t understand.

But he couldn’t keep hiding it. This was deception. If he truly loved Najane, he should have told her everything from the start.

“...Najane.”

With a fearful look, Maximón tightly grasped Najane’s hand and whispered softly.

“...I, I... from the beginning...”

“Do you regret making me a knight?”

Najane asked gently. Maximón flinched, his eyes turning red. He couldn’t bring himself to answer and lowered his gaze.

“When I use the sword technique, they say I won’t live long.”

“...”

“Did you know?”

Maximón looked at Najane with trembling eyes. He couldn’t hold her gaze any longer. Gripped by fear, he pulled her even tighter into his arms.

“...I’m sorry.”