The Forest Race Clonne

Chapter 92

“Where and how should I get hurt?”

“Prince Sei? What...!”

"Hmm, you can do it however you want. Just make sure your blood gets on the sword a lot. The more of the owner's blood that’s on it, the more likely it is to be considered a critical situation.”

It wasn't a bad idea. But before I could agree, Semeion intervened to stop it.

"I oppose this. Prince Sei, it's an uncertain method."

"But it has the highest probability, doesn’t it? It's worth a try.”

"No, it’s not. Hurting your precious body for such a reason is unacceptable...!"

At that moment, Khan and I met eyes unintentionally. Without even exchanging words, we knew we shared the same thought. From that point on, everything proceeded quickly.

"Prince Sei!"

While Khan swiftly subdued Semeion, I grabbed the sword and slashed my palm in one swift motion. Then, with my bleeding hand, I tightly gripped the sword's handle.

But honestly, even at that point, I wasn’t confident. I didn’t expect this reckless method to actually work.

“To think you’d self-harm with a sword given to protect you. This is not how it was meant to be used.”

“...”

Markartis clicked his tongue, arms crossed. His muttered words of disbelief left no room for excuses. We had exploited his goodwill. Fortunately, Markartis didn’t seem upset. On the contrary, he seemed amused by the situation.

The one most taken aback by all this was me. I had acted out of desperation, not expecting it to succeed. But Khan was right; Markartis had indeed intended to save me during a critical moment, despite already helping me so much.

‘...Is he a pushover?’

I knew I shouldn’t be thinking this way as the beneficiary, but naturally, that thought crossed my mind first. This situation was just that hard to understand.

“How did you know to get blood on the hilt? I made sure the magic was set up only to sense that specific area. It should’ve been hard to figure that out just by looking at the magic patterns.”

“Ah, it wasn’t something I did on purpose. I just thought that if my blood was going to spill during a fight, it would be most natural for it to get on the hilt first...”

“Ha, exactly the same thought I had.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just a little surprised, but it’s better this way than actually being in a crisis. Plus, I got to see a familiar face after a long time, so this might be more beneficial.”

Markatis, with his eyes narrowed in a playful manner, glanced at Semeion. Semeion, still tied up and looking pitiful, seemed to have grown even more haggard in the meantime. He gave an uncomfortable look at the gaze directed toward him and sighed deeply.

"Untie me, Khan."

Khan flinched at the lowered voice. It seemed that now he was starting to worry about the consequences. Hesitantly, he untied Semeion, glancing around cautiously.

“Sorry, Semeion. Are you angry?”

“...We’ll talk about this later.”

Semeion, now sitting up, immediately reached for my hand to inspect it. I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong, and it was no use. In the end, my wound, which hadn’t been fully stopped from bleeding, was exposed to him. His lips trembled faintly.

“You were too reckless. How could you...”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s just a small cut. I only bled a little.”

“You can’t do this in the future.”

He took out a clean cloth from somewhere and tightly wrapped it around my hand. Considering this was someone who had used blood as medicine before (he had demonstrated it himself), his reaction seemed overly sensitive, but I didn’t mention it.

“Now that I think about it, is the effectiveness of Clonne’s blood only applicable to other races?”

"No, it also works on our kind. Ah, if you want, I can heal you with my blood now..."

"No! That’s not why I mentioned it. What I mean is, it's about you."

I hastily grabbed him, who was trying to easily inflict wounds on himself while saying I couldn’t. Seeing his puzzled face, as if he didn't understand why he was being mentioned, made me sigh.

“What about using my blood on you?”

“...What?”

“I’ve heard that it has various effects beyond just treating external injuries and detoxification. Wouldn't it help your current state?”

Semeion blinked blankly at my words before a troubled smile spread across his face.

"I just told you not to do that, yet you're thinking of hurting yourself again."

“I don’t think you’re in any position to say that.”

“You’re not someone who can be compared to me. The weight of blood can’t be the same either.”

“...Well, I’m not so sure about that. What I know is that Clone’s blood helps with recovery for our kind, and there’s no need to take a difficult path when an easier one is available.”

As I was about to remove the cloth wrapped around my hand, Semeion hastily stopped me. His face was clearly flustered as he let out a sigh that sounded more like a lament.

“To be clear, I cannot accept your blood.”

“You can’t receive it, or you won’t?”

“I can’t. It’s not just me, but all Knights cannot receive your blood.”

"So, it applies to all Knights... Does that mean only Knights can't receive my blood?"

There was only one reason I could guess for this.

"...Is it because I’m an Acacia?"

“Yes, that’s right.”

"...”

“To be more precise, it’s because of the oath of fealty between the King and the Knights.”

“An oath?”

“Every Knight takes an oath of loyalty when they are appointed. It’s a blood oath that binds us into a shared fate, ensuring that we can never betray each other. Therefore, the blood of another king is poison to us.”

“...But I’m not a King.”

“Acacia itself is a royal tree, Prince Sei. You may not hold the title, but your influence is similar.”

“...”

What’s that supposed to mean? Not an actual king, yet unable to provide any help? At this point, is there any real advantage to this lineage?

I sighed, only to realize that a face, watching us with interest, had come into view. It was Markatis, whom I had momentarily forgotten even existed.

“Hmm? Don’t mind me; keep talking. Seems like you’re in the middle of something fascinating.”

"...”

Realizing this, Semeion clicked his tongue softly.

“It seems we’ve carried on for too long in front of a guest. Apologies for keeping you waiting.”

“No, not at all—it’s been quite captivating. And so, the little one is indeed an Acacia? I thought that might be the case.”

Markatis, showing his disappointment at the pause in conversation, replied with a grin. He was the one who initially speculated that I might be the king’s child. If I’d known how embarrassed I'd be now, I might have answered more cautiously back then. Not that it would have made much difference.

“By the way, my thanks come a bit late, but it seems you helped Prince Sei while we couldn’t attend to him. We’ll surely repay this debt.”

“No need to mention it. It was my pleasure to look after a young Acacia. To be honest, it’s an experience one can’t buy, after all.”

The treatment of Clonnes as rare plants hadn’t changed. Semeion, perhaps accustomed to this, showed no reaction.

“So, may I finally hear it? The reason you sought me out.”

At long last, it was time to get to the main point. Markatis, arms leisurely crossed, looked at each of us with a sly smile, as if he were a benevolent mountain deity granting wishes. The first to step forward was Khan, who wore a determined expression.

“We need your help!”

* * *

When I opened my eyes, all around me was pitch black. It was complete darkness, impossible to see even an inch ahead. I was drifting aimlessly in this unknown space. By now, it was a dream I was familiar with to the point where confusion was no longer possible.

‘This must be about the tenth time.’

Having realized this, the next sequence was obvious. A voice, coming from an unknown direction, would start speaking to me.

― It seems you've grown quite accustomed to this.

‘As I thought.’

But something felt a little different from usual. Maybe it was a reflection of my subconscious, but until now, the figure in my dreams had always seemed pleased to see me. Even if they grumbled about how unfair it was or asked when I’d come to them, beneath the impatience and nagging there was always a layer of warmth.

This time, however, the tone felt curt. Though I couldn’t see them, I could sense an unusual darkness in their expression. Were they in a bad mood today? Wondering that, I even heard them click their tongue lowly.

― Look at that. No remorse at all. Do you even care how I feel?

‘…Did I do something wrong?’

― You don’t even know what you did wrong. Truly heartless.

If they had complaints, they should properly explain the situation instead of being sarcastic. Only then can I apologize or correct my behavior. Though I felt flustered, the absurdity of the situation was more overwhelming. I wasn’t even sure if there was anything to do wrong in a dream where nothing could be seen.

― I see. To you, this is still just a ‘dream.’

The voice's tone, filled with disappointment, made my heart skip a beat. For some reason, it felt like I had made a mistake. I'd merely referred to it as a dream because it was, but it felt like I’d said something I shouldn’t have.

― Do you like green?

The following question seemed a bit out of the blue. And before I could even respond, they continued speaking.