Chapter 13. Prepare for the Foreseen Ruin (5)
“Ethan, don’t tell me… Edith Crowell…”
Despite Yan and Cain’s teasing, Ethan’s next words were uncharacteristically serious.
“…I mean that Edith Crowell isn’t the kind of person who avoids physical contact.”
Finally understanding, Yan nodded as if it made sense.
“Oh, I see.”
“So there must’ve been another reason.”
“Maybe she just really hates me in particular…”
“Ethan, since when do you know Edith Crowell so well?”
Yan shrugged sarcastically.
He wasn’t wrong.
Ethan Behemoth hadn’t known Edith Crowell for very long either.
But Ethan remembered the moment after their sparring match when Edith, lying collapsed on the ground, had reached out her hand to him.
‘Instead of that, why don’t you help me up?’
A small, soft hand—unlike a knight’s calloused one.
Her palm had gripped his firmly. There had been a clear will to survive in that touch.
That’s why, even though Ethan Behemoth had witnessed Edith Crowell’s extreme behavior twice, he was sure.
Edith Crowell wanted to live.
And she was alive—just always on the verge of death.
She had reached out first, and Ethan Behemoth had simply taken her hand.
Even though eighteen-year-old Ethan Behemoth might have been a warmonger in Edith’s memories, he wasn’t a knight who turned away from an outstretched hand.
“Something might be wrong. Let’s return to camp by marching. We’re already behind schedule.”
“Yes, sir!”
Cain Guinevere brushed the dust off his uniform and mounted his magically obedient horse.
Ethan watched until Cain was ready, then turned his horse toward the march path along with Yan. As they rode, he muttered quietly.
“…Camp soon.”
He’d need to speak with Edith Crowell.
***
“We’re camping here!”
Not long after I rejoined the march, the subjugation unit passed through a narrow forest path.
Then, just before entering the canyon, we found a wide clearing and received the order to make camp.
The sun was already setting—just the right time.
‘We set off at dawn, so we’ve been riding for quite a while.’
I was dying to strip off the suffocating field uniform from the heat and dizziness, but now that the sun had gone down, it felt a little better.
As I dismounted, I looked up at the steep canyon that now loomed before me.
Beyond this canyon was uncharted land. In other words… the subjugation training site.
‘How many times have I come here already?’
Of course, I hadn’t always been in good shape when I came. But I must’ve visited this place hundreds of times.
With lingering questions about the curse I got here, I had kept coming back despite others warning me, “That canyon’s completely ruined. There’s nothing left.”
And no matter how many times I overturned the rubble, I really couldn’t find a single thing.
There had never been anything unusual.
‘Will this time be different?’
…Because this is before that incident.
While I was lost in unfamiliar feelings staring at the vaguely familiar canyon, Limos Therion dismounted and approached me shyly, hands clasped.
“U-Um, Lady Edith…”
“Oh, right. We need to pitch our tent.”
I lowered my gaze from the canyon to look for our group’s temporary tent supplies—but not a single one remained in the stack.
Even the cart with our cargo was completely empty.
‘Don’t tell me…’
Still being bullied?
Just as I was about to get annoyed by such childish cruelty, Limos Therion gently stepped in front of me.
“Lady Edith.”
“Yes?”
I hadn’t realized while on horseback, but now that we were face-to-face, I noticed again how tall he was.
‘Even with that slim frame, he’s still tall.’
As our eyes met, Limos gave a small smile and lowered his lashes.
“You don’t need to worry about it, Lady Edith.”
“Sorry? About what…”
“T-The tent. R-Ruth said he’d set it up for you…”
What is he saying?
He tilted his head slightly in one direction. I followed his gaze.
…One of the knights from the front squad who had gossiped about me earlier was now setting up a tent.
…Is that Ruth?
I looked at Limos with that unspoken question, and he nodded gently. I turned back toward the knight.
“Huh…”
It took me a moment to piece things together. …Why is he doing that?
And isn’t that tent a bit big for him to set up alone?
Feeling puzzled, I turned back to Limos and asked again.
“…Sir Ruth?”
“Yes. So… um… we can rest now, I think.”
“Ah, I see…”
“Then, about earlier—when you asked me to check your condition. Please have a seat over here.”
He smiled faintly, like he might disappear at any moment, and turned his horse. His pale violet eyes, half hidden under drooping lashes, curved sweetly.
With that face, anyone would agree to anything.
Then Limos beamed even more brightly.
Like a wildflower blooming in spring sunshine.
“Please, Lady Edith.”
…Even I, normally indifferent to most people, found his smile captivating.
‘Did he ask Sir Ruth with that same face?’
I forced my gaze away from Ruth, who was struggling alone with the tent, and sat down across from Limos Therion.
‘Honestly, not my problem.’
Luckily, there was a tree root perfect for sitting.
As I sat, I quietly observed Limos, who seemed to be preparing something.
Truthfully, I’d been watching him all morning during the march.
Limos Therion.
A student who had been assigned to the rear before joining my group.
Like most normal people, he would’ve died in this subjugation and thus not appeared in my memories—but there was something very wrong.
He was far from normal—too much so to have just died.
Even after a few hours, I could sense something suspicious about him.
His aloofness toward others suggested he wasn’t the type to sacrifice himself for them. And his previous position in the rear was perfect for escaping.
He was a holy magician, capable of self-healing from most wounds. There’s no way he didn’t survive that.
And yet I don’t remember him?
Above all… I witnessed something when returning to the march that confirmed my suspicions.
Something that proved why I needed to be cautious of Limos Therion—who now sat across from me, cheeks faintly flushed.
***
I had briefly stopped my horse, trying to rid myself of lingering nausea.
I found a thicket, vomited everything out.
“Urgh… haah.”
Afterward, feeling drained, I leaned on a tree to catch my breath.
“Why is this so hard…”
It was around then that I decided to swallow my pride and ask Limos Therion for help with my condition.
Might as well use a holy magician while I had one.
But then I sensed movement ahead.
Rustle.
“…!”
If someone saw me like this, it’d be bad.
‘That faint presence… must be a professor.’
I quickly erased my traces with magic, hid my presence, and waited beside my horse.
…Then, after a moment, two unexpected figures came into view.
Limos Therion—and an unfamiliar knight.
He should’ve been marching with the front squad alone after I left. But here he was, with someone who seemed to be from that very group.
‘What’s going on?’
And neither had their horse.
Limos had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face—but the knight’s aggressive energy was unmistakable.
‘Did he get into trouble?’
I held my breath and watched closely.
They were far enough that only bits of their voices reached me.
“Why are you… … …since earlier, …so annoying…”
“……”
“Never seen you… …Are you really a student?”
“……”
Given Limos’s earlier cold demeanor, and considering how on edge the front squad was after Cain Guinevere fell from the cliff, it wasn’t surprising they’d pick a fight.
‘Should I step in?’
If my teammate got beaten by another knight, it would reflect badly on me too.
I hesitated, debating whether to intervene—when the nausea surged again.
‘Why now?’
“…Ugh.”
I leaned forward and spat quietly. Then raised my head—
“…?”
‘Wait. Are they… hugging?’
