The Forest Race Clonne

Chapter 87

‘What is this?’

The damp sensation on his face made Kalph uneasy. He lifted his hand to wipe his face but paused. The ground beneath him was soaked. Initially, he thought it was water, but the scent was strangely different. It was the smell of blood, and unmistakably that of Clonne.

"…What the…"

Instinctively adopting a defensive posture, he reached for his waist. Typically, he would have felt the familiar touch of his sword, but it was missing. No matter how much he fumbled, it wasn't there.

Damn it, what’s going on here?

With an effort to clamp down on his rising panic, Kalph tried to stay alert. The fact that his guardian, Scyther, was silent in such an eerie situation was even more perplexing, but understanding the current scenario was his priority.

Then, the dark space flickered, and a faint silhouette appeared before him. It was the sole source of light in the otherwise impenetrable darkness. The figure was slowly approaching him.

Kalph clenched his fists, ready to strike or flee at a moment’s notice.

"Kalph."

Until he heard that voice.

"…."

Did I just hear what I think I heard?

Kalph forgot his defensive stance and looked up, bewildered. What stood before him was harder to believe than what his ears had just heard. Struggling to control his erratic breathing, he clenched his fists tightly to prevent himself from screaming.

“You... what are you?”

After what felt like an eternity, Kalph finally managed to speak. His voice came out strained and hoarse. The figure, bathed in a faint glow, silently observed him. Kalph’s face contorted in pain.

"Why are you… why are you here?"

There was no mistaking it. He couldn't possibly be wrong. The figure standing before him was someone he'd recognize anywhere, even if he didn’t want to. His longtime friend and comrade, the King’s Third Knight, Rashian Milt. It was unmistakably him. Which made it all the more bewildering for Kalph.

They had said he was dead. Someone long gone, now just a distant memory. He had buried him with his own hands, and sent him off to the heavens as he was laid to rest. And now, that very same friend was standing right before him.

‘…It’s a dream.’

Ah, yes, this must be a dream.

Rationality finally began to return to his confused mind. That's when the absurdity of the situation started to make sense. His legs gave out, and Kalph sank to the floor.

“Hah, of course…”

The dead coming back to life? Impossible. Laughing bitterly, Kalph ran his sweaty hand through his hair and looked up. His friend stood there, just as he had looked the last time he saw him. He could still hear his friend’s voice in his ears, waving and saying:

"Brother, I’ll be back soon. Keep the village safe until then."

The hell you will be!

Kalph couldn’t hold back the surge of anger and yelled out.

“You damn bastard! Why do you appear in my dreams without permission and scare the life out of me? Even in death, you still have to torment me? Is that it?”

Even in life, Rashian had been exceptionally mischievous and playful. This moment felt like a return to those times, making Kalph grit his teeth.

“I was just… I was finally starting to forget.”

This is the worst dream ever.

Hoping to wake up soon, Kalph bent over and buried his face in his knees. It was then that Rashian’s lips moved, and he spoke.

“Kalph.”

“…What?”

Kalph raised his head grumpily, feeling something cold hit his forehead, and frowned. He realized that something had been dripping on him the whole time.

This is such an ominous dream. I need to wake up from this fast. But how do I wake up? As he grumbled to himself, he looked at Rashian and was taken aback. Tears were streaming down Rashian's otherwise expressionless face.

“What’s… what's this? Are you crying?”

Kalph couldn't make sense of the situation. The Rashian he knew was overly optimistic, always lively and cheerful, rarely displaying anger. He seemed incapable of feeling sorrow or sadness.

Yet here he was, tears flowing down his face. Could something like this even happen, even in a dream? While Kalph silently absorbed the shock, Rashian gazed up with a mournful, pleading look in his eyes. Following that gaze, Kalph looked up and his eyes widened in horror.

“Oh my God…”

A groan escaped from deep within his throat.

The ceiling was covered in thorny vines, and in the center, a blood-soaked figure was bound. The continuous dripping—it was from him.

“What… is this.”

His lips trembled.

The man suspended from the ceiling was pierced by countless thorns. Not a patch of uninjured skin was visible. It was a horrifying sight, making it even harder to believe. For he was someone who should never be in such a state.

“What the hell is going on here!”

It was undeniably Rafiel.

Their noble King.

* * *

“Gasp!”

Kalph awoke with a start, his chest heaving. His entire body felt as if it were burning from his throat to his insides. The indistinguishable blend of reality and dream left his head buzzing.

“Lord Kalph, are you alright?”

“Can you hear us?”

The voices anchoring his scattered consciousness finally cut through. As he managed to calm his breath, the burning sensation receded as if it had never been there. Kalph blinked slowly. The familiar ceiling he had grown accustomed to over the past few days came into view. Familiar faces looked down at him.

“...What’s going on?”

“That’s what we should be asking you! You suddenly started sweating cold and were writhing in agony. You can’t imagine how worried we were.”

“No matter how much we tried, we couldn't wake you.”

So that's it. I woke up from the dream.

Kalp raised his body and calmly assessed his condition. He had been sweating cold, and his body felt uncomfortably damp. However, it was nothing compared to the terrible sensations he had felt in the dream.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“A nightmare… Yeah, I suppose it was a nightmare.”

It should have just been a dream. It had to be. Kalp clenched his trembling fist tightly. His still-shocked heart seemed to pulse with a lingering numbness. The expressions on the faces of those around him, who thought of his condition as the aftereffects of the nightmare, darkened.

“...To be honest, it’s no surprise you had a nightmare. How long have we been stuck here? It feels like it’s been more than a week.”

Even without Serige’s sigh, everyone shared the same sentiment. The enclosed space with nothing but a metal door was suffocating. The lone window on the roof barely allowed any sunlight or fresh air. It was an environment that could break even the strongest of minds. Talis, sitting idly, chewed on his lip.

“What about my hair? It’s totally ruined. Damn it.”

“Is that really what matters right now?”

“Of course it matters! Do you know how much effort I put into maintaining it? Every day, I made sure it absorbed plenty of sunlight and moisture, applied oils, and brushed it dozens of times!”

“What’s the point of having long, flowing hair when you wield a sword? You should just cut it all off!”

“Are you crazy?! No way! Irei said long hair looked good on me!”

"Hic, so you’re telling me you’re growing your hair out because of Irei?"

"Of course! What other reason would there be?"

"…Shut up, Talis. Please."

The past month had been a nightmare for everyone. They had been transported in a wagon with cuffs that sealed their powers for weeks. Now they were trapped inside some unknown building.

Meals consisted solely of water and dried meat served twice a day. Humanoid figures, always hooded, would regularly visit to draw their blood.

Despite being told that they would be shown to the King’s son, there had been no news. Initially, they had waited calmly, but now they were beginning to doubt the truth of these claims.

"Those bastards, it was a lie all along. King’s son, my ass. We’ve been totally duped."

"Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?"

All eyes turned towards Kalph. Deep in thought, he slowly raised his head.

"Of course we won’t. We’re getting out of here."

"What’s the plan then? We don’t have any weapons, and we can’t even summon our Guardians."

Rikase raised his handcuffed wrist. The cuffs had been enchanted to seal their powers. Even though human magic had grown weaker, there was no way to break them with sheer strength.

Moreover, they were significantly weakened. Their King, who was their source of power, had been sealed. It was becoming more evident with each passing day.

"…We’ll find a way, somehow."

No one took Kalph's murmur optimistically. Their faces grew darker.

"Do you think Sei is okay?"

This question further dampened the mood. Their gazes turned to Irei, who spoke with a worried look.

"We sent Sei away to protect him from what’s happening here. But now I’m not sure it was the right decision. We don’t even know if he made it out of the forest safely."

"Irei…”

"What if he encounters a monster? Even if the forest shows the safest path, it won’t protect him. He can’t handle weapons well."

"Irei, stop!" Serige shouted, his face pale. The others shared his distressed expressions.

Since their capture on that fateful day, this was the first time anyone had mentioned the young escapee. They had deliberately avoided the subject, fearing it would be too unbearable otherwise. But there was a limit to how long they could ignore it.

"Can’t we worry?"

"What good does worrying do? It won’t change the fact that we couldn’t protect him!"

"So what’s the point of keeping our mouths shut? What are we supposed to do with these recurring thoughts? Not talking about it is driving me even crazier!"