"Sigrid."
"Yes."
"If we're discovered, just kill
first."
"Understood."
"Oh? No complaints this ti?"
As he mumbled in a feverish voice, Sigrid replied.
"I'd rather not have you die by being skewered like a kebab."
Beramund tried to laugh at Sigrid's words, recalling the barbarians' thod of killing enemies, but failed.
"And I'll die with you anyway."
Beramund groaned and said, "I don't want to die with you."
"I don't want to either. But it's better than falling into the hands of barbarians."
"You can still abandon
and escape alone if you want."
"I refuse."
That option didn't even exist. She'd rather die together than face His Majesty after failing the mission.
The only person who trusted and cared for her.
Just imagining the disappointnt on His Majesty's face made Sigrid's skin crawl. It would be better to just die with Beramund and be done with it.
"You're an idiot... idiot, idi..."
The mumbling in her ear grew fainter, and Beramund's body went completely limp. Even as she carried him, she could tell his breathing had beco shallow and rough. Sigrid checked the ropes once more.
'I hope he doesn't die on the way.'
He hadn't said the ropes were uncomfortable, but they couldn't be. They just didn't ntion it because they knew it wasn't the ti for such talk.
Sigrid checked her weapons and took a big step forward.
There was no turning back.
Sigrid had to change course several tis along the way. Killing, changing routes, fighting—by the ti she finally escaped the mine, 24 hours had passed.
'I feel like I'm going to die.'
Thinking this, Sigrid fell to her knees. The weight of the person on her back was heavy. She had been on edge all day, moving without rest, morizing the mine map in her head, constantly updating her current position, and searching for the exit.
But even so—
'If I stay here like this, my head will be chopped off unceremoniously, or I'll be skewered.'
Sigrid gritted her teeth and stood up. Fortunately, there were no soldiers guarding this area, but this was enemy territory.
It was the territory of the Western Nobles Alliance.
Sigrid desperately moved forward. There was a river near the exit she had co out of. Thick reeds spread out on both sides of the river, and Sigrid hid among them.
'I can't move any further.'
If dying from exhaustion and being caught were the sa, she'd rather rest. With trembling fingers, she untied the ropes and lay down on the muddy ground. As soon as she lay down, she fell asleep.
"......"
Sigrid opened her eyes to a rocking sensation. The stars in the night sky were slowly drifting.
And her body was gently swaying left and right...
Swaying?!
Sigrid bolted upright.
"Awake?"
"Beramund?"
"Shh—"
He put a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet, so Sigrid closed her mouth. She quickly surveyed her surroundings.
The two of them were slowly drifting down the night river on a ferry. After staring blankly at the dark river for a while, Sigrid asked quietly.
"Are we both dead, by any chance?"
"Huh?"
"Are we crossing the river of the afterlife?"
"No, we're not. I procured this ferry, and we're slowly drifting down the river. We'll have to abandon it and continue on foot once dawn breaks anyway."
"How...?"
"You collapsed, and I regained consciousness. I was just conserving energy while being carried all day, doing my part."
Sigrid stared at him blankly, then clutched her chest. Her aura had been replenished too. A black aura, different in mass from her own.
"Even though you can't use your legs."
"I crawled, of course."
Beramund replied as if it were nothing. In the darkness, Sigrid lowered her eyes. Was she really unable to surpass this man?
She had wanted to rescue him entirely with her own strength, but it was impossible.
"Why do you look like that when I told you we're not dead?"
Sigrid jerked her head up at his voice. She couldn't see his face, but—
"Can you see my face?"
"A little?"
"...I really hate you."
"What?"
Born with different bloodlines and talents, no matter how desperately she tried to surpass him, she couldn't win. The difference in physical strength between n and won was even more pronounced.
A sense of inferiority reared its ugly head.
A dark hatred crept up, filling her chest.
"...Hey, you."
Beramund called out to Sigrid cautiously.
"When we get back, think about it properly. Instead of blindly following His Majesty, broaden your perspective—"
"Are you trying to shake my loyalty now?"
"That's not what I—"
"Shut up, Beramund Lunatil. Before I regret saving you. I am a knight. My lord is my life."
Beramund closed his mouth. His eyes narrowed.
"Do as you wish."
The next mont, both of them flattened themselves against the boat. Beramund chuckled with a growl.
"How diligent of them to patrol in the middle of the night."
"Let's abandon the boat."
"You an jump into the water?"
"Yes."
Beramund swallowed. It would only continue to drain their strength. But it was better than dying. After a brief exchange of hand signals, the two slipped silently into the water. They pushed the boat away and swam towards the riverbank. The boat would be discovered by the lights in a few hundred ters.
Then they would comb through this area like hunting for mice, and they needed to escape before that.
"I don't want to swim."
Hearing his words as they floated in the water, Sigrid silently approached him, wrapped her arm around his neck, and started swimming. It would naturally be difficult to swim with injured limbs.
"If I could, I'd like to just smash your head into the river, but..."
Beramund laughed silently at her muttered words. As the two climbed onto the riverbank, they surveyed their surroundings. Beramund staggered to his feet. He exhaled deeply from the pain in his legs. Sigrid supported him and asked.
"Can you walk?"
"I think I'll need a cane."
"I'll support you."
"Better than being carried, I suppose."
Beramund pointed upwards and said, "That way."
"You want to go back up the river?"
"We passed a watermill earlier."
"There must be houses nearby."
"We might have to resort to robbery, unfortunately."
At Beramund's muttering, Sigrid silently began supporting him as they walked. After going upstream for a short while, they saw a watermill built on the riverbank. The small village accompanying the mill was completely empty.
"Were they conscripted?"
"It seems they evacuated."
Sigrid pointed to deep wagon tracks as she spoke, and Beramund sighed, "I see." Sigrid couldn't tell if his relief was because they wouldn't have to harm civilians or because the villagers had evacuated rather than being conscripted.
"Civil war is the worst."
In response to Beramund's words, Sigrid quietly replied, "It's wasteful." That's why His Majesty had been so wary of the Western Nobles Alliance.
'That's why he's been so cautious...'
To think they would end up rebelling like this.
While admiring His Majesty's foresight, Sigrid wondered if they should have suppressed the Western Nobles Alliance more forcefully earlier.
The two settled in the cleanest-looking house in the area. It seed the occupants had evacuated in a hurry, as there were dishes and clothes strewn about.
Beramund replaced his bandages with torn sheets and changed his clothes. Sigrid comnted, "They're short."
"...Can't be helped."
Both the shirt and pants were too short. Fortunately, the farr who lived here seed to have had a protruding belly, so at least the clothes fit around the waist. She changed her clothes as well.
Beramund stared at the dagger for a mont. Sigrid looked at it suspiciously and said, "If you're planning to commit suicide, I'd say now is not the ti."
"No, I was thinking about whether I should disable one of my eyes right now."
He turned to Sigrid with a grin.
"Ah."
If they were to escape in civilian clothes, heterochromatic eyes would be too noticeable. Watching the dagger spin in his hand, Sigrid said, "Let's not."
"Oh?"
"If you stab yourself with that and the wound gets worse, I'll have to throw your corpse in the river, making all my efforts to bring you here worthless."
An injury to the arm or leg is entirely different from an injury near the brain.
"Wow, such harsh words. To your superior, no less."
"It's the truth. And regardless of whether you have one eye or two, you're too noticeable."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Even wearing these farr's clothes, he didn't look like a farr. His tall stature, broad shoulders, and sleek physique made him look unmistakably like a knight and nobleman.
"Your hair is incredibly noticeable too, Silver Knight."
At his words, spoken with a grin, Sigrid unconsciously averted her gaze. She had such a title, but she had never been called that in this manner before. So softly and sweetly, as if she really were a sparkling silver jewel.
Does this man speak to all won in such a flirtatious tone?
She tugged at her hair and said, "Then I'll cut this short and wrap my head with cloth."
"Let's not."
Beramund said as he put the dagger back on his waist.
"Your hair, my eyes. If we die, we die. That's all."
Beramund said this and then grabbed Sigrid's hair. Her hair was much longer than expected.
"It'll take a while to dry."
"We have no choice."
Sigrid sharply smacked his hand away and continued with a biting tone.
"And I've heard all about your reputation, so keep your hands off."
"Reputation?"
"I hear you date two or three people at once."
"That's not true!"
Beramund protested indignantly, but Sigrid still looked at him with contempt and said, "Is that so?"
Her words said "Is that so?" but her eyes and tone said "As if." Beramund was dumbfounded and clenched his jaw before saying,
"Even if I had such a reputation, I wouldn't touch a woman like you. Any desire I had would vanish."
Sigrid didn't respond to his words.
She was well aware that she lacked charm. After that, the two silently searched the area, finding and nibbling on a few raw sweet potatoes, and devouring so smoked pork they found hanging in the attic.
Once their stomachs were full, they finally felt their fatigue lifting. But that didn't an they could relax their guard. Beramund slowly examined his wounds. Thanks to continuously circulating his aura, his condition was much better than expected.
'Thanks to being carried.'
He glanced at Sigrid and felt a strange emotion. Even if he survived, all that would await him from this woman would be criticism.
No, even if she couldn't openly criticize him, she would surely be angry or irritated.
'She's a fool.'
If she had been following His Majesty for her own wealth and glory, he wouldn't have felt this uneasy.
"Sigrid."
At his quiet call, Sigrid raised her head to look at him.
"Why do you follow His Majesty?"
"Because he is my lord."
Sigrid answered as if to say, 'Why are you asking such a strange question?' Beramund shook his head and said,
"That's not what I an. Why did you choose His Majesty as your lord?"
"Because I'm a knight."
How does that connect?
Staring blankly at Sigrid, she calmly began to explain.
"Knights serve their lords."
"Right?"
"I am a knight of the imperial family, and it is my duty to serve the imperial family. And naturally, the highest person in the imperial family is His Majesty. So it's only natural for , a knight of the imperial family, to serve His Majesty."
"......"
No, who answers so textbook-like?
Beramund thought Sigrid might be speaking this way because she didn't want to tell him the truth, but looking into her eyes, he realized that wasn't the case.
She really was living exactly like that.
"Are you an idiot?"
At his unintentional words, Sigrid felt a surge of anger.
"His Majesty is just using you."
"He's my lord, so that's natural, isn't it?"
"That's not what I—"
Feeling frustrated, Beramund let out a deep sigh.
"His Majesty is making you do improper things, using you—"
"However His Majesty chooses to use
is his prerogative. If he uses
in such a way, it must be because I haven't lived up to his expectations."
"That's not it. He's just blatantly exploiting you."
"He is a lonely person."
"What?"
Beramund thought, 'What are you saying? What nonsense is this?' but she was serious.
Sigrid lowered her eyes.
In truth, she was lonely too. She was a commoner, a woman, and there was no chance of finding soone compatible with her—
But he was the only one who recognized her. He praised her, encouraged her.
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