I told Margon, now awake and lucid, the truth about Adeline. He wore a gloomy expression the entire ti he listened.
As I approached the final part, an inexplicable sense of guilt made my palms sweat, and I wiped them against my pants.
“Noance... will be devastated.”
Margon finally opened the mouth he had kept tightly shut. Then, in a dry, emotionless voice, he spoke.
“Devastated? That’s all? When you find out the lord you served was never what you thought... the shock is beyond words.”
“...Yeah. You’d know that better than anyone.”
I gave an awkward smile, recalling his past.
The mont he realized I wasn’t the real Ceryl Aylos, he had left Beljena alone. The more steadfast and straightforward a person is, the harder they break. That was what I had learned back then.
Margon sprang up from the bed. He ran his hand over his abdon, healed overnight, then stretched with a refreshed groan.
“Ugh... Then shall we go see Noance? As his senior, I should give him so advice.”
At his joking tone, I stared at him blankly. Having downed several bottles of dragon-grade dicine, Margon looked unusually energetic.
***
I thought Noance would be wasting away after losing Adeline, but contrary to expectations, he was moving diligently. When we asked the rebels, we were directed to a forest so distance from the base.
Noance, small in stature, was digging into the ground alone with a shovel. He must have noticed us approaching, yet he paid no attention and continued digging.
When I got closer, I carefully called out his na.
“...Noance.”
But he didn’t respond. He simply kept digging.
Margon, standing behind , approached him without hesitation. He picked up a spare shovel lying nearby and began digging from the opposite side.
I quietly looked around. Off to one side was a box made of fine wood.
Sensing my gaze on it, Noance finally spoke.
“I’m going to bury Lady Adeline.”
He said it while continuing to dig, not even looking at . I nodded silently and stepped closer.
There were no shovels left, so I crouched down and began clawing at the dirt with my bare hands. Startled, Margon held out the shovel he was using to .
I shook my head and gently asked Noance,
“Noance, if it’s alright... can I help?”
He only glanced at without answering. Taking that as agreent, I started digging alongside him with my bare hands.
Varen let out a deep sigh, then crouched down beside as well. His large fra folded awkwardly, looking uncomfortable.
When I glanced at him with concern, he spoke in a sulky tone.
“You won’t listen even if I stop you. Better to finish this quickly.”
“...Thanks, Varen.”
“Tch. This would be done in an instant with magic.”
A few months ago, when I had dug Leobin’s grave myself, Varen had said the exact sa thing. To him, using a shovel instead of dragon magic had seed foolish.
But perhaps he had co to understand that this was how humans mourned the dead. This ti, he worked alongside us without complaint.
We dug in silence. Once the hole reached a sufficient depth, we buried the wooden box containing Adeline’s remains, then covered it again with soil.
In the anti, I wandered through the forest and picked a few white flowers. I didn’t know their nas or anings like Kallen would, but I chose ones with fully blood petals, resembling chrysanthemums.
Before I knew it, the sun that had been overhead had tilted westward. A red sunset painted the forest beautifully.
Only then did Noance accept the bouquet of white flowers I offered.
“Lady Adeline liked Hotiana flowers.”
Though he spoke with dissatisfaction, he still placed the bouquet in front of the finished grave. Sweat beaded across his face from all the effort.
Wiping his forehead with the back of his dirt-covered hand, Noance stood before the grave. While he silently gathered his thoughts, Varen, Margon, and I waited behind him.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
“I admit it. What I saw yesterday wasn’t human. It was a monster.”
After stating that firmly, he turned to look at . And though his voice remained steady, his face was soaked.
“Call it a monster, a bug... whatever you want. I don’t care. Adeline was my mother.”
Noance turned back toward the grave. He said nothing more, though occasional sniffles escaped him.
Unlike , who couldn’t bring myself to speak, Margon walked up to him without hesitation. He placed a large hand on his narrow shoulder and bowed his head alongside him.
But I couldn’t bow to sothing I couldn’t even distinguish as Adeline or Sarco.
Digging the grave, bringing flowers—that had been only for Noance.
And, in part, it was also an act of repentance toward Margon, whom I had hurt by hiding the truth.
Instead of a silent prayer, I interlaced my fingers with Varen’s hand and brushed my thumb over the back of it.
Yesterday, Sarco’s teeth had pierced straight through it, blood pouring out—but now, the skin was smooth again.
I simply stood there, watching Noance’s heartfelt farewell.
***
After quietly finishing Adeline’s burial and returning to the base, Noance headed straight for the tent she had used. He likely needed ti alone, so I didn’t stop him.
The rebels, who had roughly restored the base, were strangely unsettled. So gathered in small groups, whispering with dark expressions, while others packed their belongings and left.
I rubbed my tired face.
“Varen, where’s Morpha?”
“Who knows. They’re probably nearby, but I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“...What are we going to do with these people?”
After killing Sarco, Morpha had suggested absorbing the remaining mbers into our side. But without a central figure, the rebels were nothing more than a disorganized mob.
Whenever things got complicated, a familiar headache followed. As I held my throbbing head and sighed, a commotion rose from afar.
Varen and I both turned our gaze toward the dark forest. The noisy, careless presence didn’t make tense.
If anything, once I realized who it was, I let out a dry laugh.
“...Sigh. What am I even supposed to say to him now?”
What soon arrived was Theo, riding in a carriage pulled by two horses. Beside him sat Martin, the one in charge of the rebels’ finances.
The two n drew attention as they entered the base, bursting into hearty laughter.
“Everyone hasn’t eaten yet, right? Let’s eat our fill tonight!”
Theo puffed out his chest proudly, having brought food supplies with the gold coins I gave him.
Martin whipped off the cloth covering the cargo and lifted a massive slab of at high.
“Hahaha! We bought out the entire market!”
The two had left yesterday morning and only returned this evening.
Until now, with dragon magic, we had traveled between the city and the base instantly, so I hadn’t grasped the actual distance.
Even on horseback, it seed it took humans a full day and a half.
Theo and Martin excitedly gestured at the mountain of food supplies, chattering away. But seeing the quiet response, their voices gradually faltered.
“What’s with everyone? Did sothing happen?”
Only then did Theo look around, finally sensing the atmosphere. No one answered, all wearing gloomy expressions.
It made sense. They could barely process that their leader had been an ancient monster—how could they even begin to explain it?
When no one spoke, Theo asked again, his voice tight with anxiety.
“Where’s Lady Adeline? Is she in her quarters? Why... why is no one saying anything?!”
His face pale, Theo shouted desperately. Sowhere nearby, soone’s muffled sobs added to the tension, pushing him closer to panic.
As I wondered if I should step in, soone else—who seed to have completely erased yesterday from his mind—staggered forward.
“Hic... hey... the thing I ordered... hic! Did you bring it?”
The Drunkard erged from a tent, swaying with an empty bottle in hand. Though he had asked Theo, he walked straight to the carriage instead.
He shoved aside the stunned Martin and peered into the cargo, then broke into a wide grin, showing yellowed teeth.
“Ha! As expected, money’s the best! To bring back a whole crate of such fine—hic!—liquor!”
He easily pried open a wooden crate, pulled out a fresh bottle, popped the cork, and stuck it straight into his mouth. In one go, he drained half of it, then let out a satisfied belch.
Then Theo approached the only one among the rebels who seed unchanged.
His eyes shaking, he asked,
“Drunkard... Lady Adel—Adeline...”
The Drunkard blinked his half-lidded, drunken eyes, then waved his hand dismissively.
“Ahh, that bug bastard—hic—I crushed it. Don’t worry.”
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