Chapter 87: A Fool’s Love (6)

[87] 13. A Fool’s Love (6)

It was a night where the sound of the torrential rain was distant.

The night sky, thick with dark clouds, screams as it splits into white, and the violet forest trembles.

A night when no creature dares to venture under the sky.

A red-haired woman was walking, splashing through the mud.

Toward the witch’s cabin in the middle of the forest.

*BAM-*

As if on cue, the front door swung open with a clap of thunder. A cracked voice, clear even amidst the downpour, erupted.

“What did they do to Rem?”

The witch silently set down the cup of tea she’d been drinking.

“The question is flawed, Rosalia.”

As the witch moved her fingers, the front door slammed shut on its own.

“The right question is, ‘how can I return him to his original state.’”

“The form of the question doesn’t matter.”

The woman stepped toward the witch. Her bloodshot eyes were fixed on the witch.

“What must I do? I’ll pay whatever price you ask. So, answer me.”

“You can only ask one question in your lifetime.”

It was a strange voice,

a voice that seemed to have come not from vocal cords, but from an ancient tree.

“And only those who’ve proven their desires through the trial are worthy of hearing the answer.”

The witch’s half-closed eyes shone slyly.

“Rosalia, are you ready to face the trial?”

Her eyes trembled slightly.

There could only be one trial that the witch spoke of.

The dream she had when she had come here with Rem.

Her beautiful childhood and its tragic end.

Even the bravest of hearts have a vulnerable side. She could feel her hands tremble.

But at the same time, she also felt a sharp pain in her side.

It was the spot where Rem had stabbed her with a dagger.

The memory of Rem struggling to save that barbarian woman…

The image, etched onto her retina like a scar.

“…I’ll do it.”

Before she knew it, the trembling had stopped.

Seeing the determination in her eyes, The witch’s eyes curved. Or rather, everything started to curve.

The scenery of the cabin,

the rain that was tearing the world apart,

and the woman’s consciousness.

“Then, sweet dreams.”

With those words, she fell into a dream.

***

Waiting is always tedious, no matter the circumstances.

Feya tapped on the table impatiently, listening to the rain drumming against the tent. Then she looked at the bucket that was being used to collect the rainwater.

It was almost full to the brim, about to overflow.

It was almost empty when Rem had left.

Biting her nails, Feya grumbled,

“He said he was just going to go get some more cloth to patch up the tent, why’s he taking so long?”

He had even left, despite her protests. He just left before she could even say anything, just like he always did.

“And what the hell is he doing now…”

Feya sighed.

Of course, if Rem had been in his right mind, if his memories were intact, then she wouldn’t be this worried.

The Rem she remembered was someone who seemed fine even if a dragon flew by, let alone a storm.

But the current Rem right now…

[Feya! Do you want stew today? Or maybe meat pie?]

[If… If I’m being a bother or if I’m doing something wrong, p-please tell me right away, okay?]

[S-s-s-sorry, b-but… th-there’s u-underwear in the c-corner…”]

He was so fragile, so delicate, almost translucent.

It was as if he would shatter into a million pieces if she were to simply poke at him.

Moreover, he had been looking depressed lately, especially after what had happened two days ago.

That’s right, the day Rem had driven away his own companion with his own hands.

It seemed that because of that incident, Rem felt as if he had cut his own lifeline. That his companions wouldn’t come for him anymore.

Feya had told him many times that that wasn’t true, but… Rem’s pessimism was much deeper and stronger than she had expected.

In other words, the current situation was like this:

A man, consumed by depression,

a downpour that could drown even an earthworm,

an incredibly fragile mind and body,

and a man who had been gone for quite a while.

…In a situation like this, optimistic thoughts like ‘It’ll be fine’ doesn’t really work.

Finally, Feya’s anxiety overcame her patience.

She stood up, grabbed her raincoat and a magical lamp, and then headed outside the tent.

“…”

But she suddenly stopped in front of the tent.

*… Why am I being so anxious?*

Of course, Rem is quite a likable person. Both before and after losing his memories. But that’s just simple affection.

She shouldn’t be acting like this. She was acting as if…

“Ridiculous.”

Feya shook her head vigorously, dispelling those thoughts.

It’s just that she’d be pissed if the man who’d defeated her died from a stupid accident like slipping and cracking his head, that’s all.

Convincing herself of this, she finally stepped out of the tent.

…

…

…

Naturally, her first destination was the quartermaster’s makeshift warehouse. It was the only place where they had spare cloth.

But what awaited her there wasn’t Rem, but shocking news.

“You’re saying Rem already took the cloth?”

The quartermaster gave her a curt reply.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“When?”

“A while ago.”

The quartermaster snapped and then went back into the warehouse. His attitude suggested he had nothing more to say.

Watching him go, Feya tried to make sense of the situation.

*So something happened after he got the cloth? But within the campsite, the only things that could happen are…*

“Oh, and.”

Suddenly, the quartermaster poked his head back out.

“Why are you taking care of that mage?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Captain Sheila told me. That you’re treating that guy.”

Feya let out a hollow chuckle, dumbfounded.

“Is it really that strange to take care of someone who’s lost his memories, is a cripple, and still hasn’t fully recovered from his injuries yet?”

Well, it might have been strange if Rem had been a straight-up evil enemy, but…

Rem was annoying, but he was fundamentally a decent person. The fact that there hadn’t been any deaths from the Central Knights was proof.

But the quartermaster seemed to have forgotten about that.

“It’s all because of that bastard that we’re going through this hell.”

Suddenly, as if he couldn’t contain his frustration any longer, he started to blurt things out.

“This was supposed to be a one-month mission. But that bastard suddenly joined and started teleporting all over the place…”

A grinding sound escaped from his teeth. He looked at Feya coldly and said,

“Anyway, if you’re going to hang out with that bastard, at least do it where we can’t see you. Or, just keep him locked up in the tent.”

And then, as if he’d truly said everything he had to say this time, he went back inside.

Feya stared at the closed door for a moment, and then reached a conclusion:

Imperial Knights are all a bunch of assholes.

“Why the hell are they blaming others for their incompetence…”

Feya grumbled and then turned away from the warehouse. Looking at the rain, she sighed.

So, where the hell had Rem gone? If he had gotten the cloth, he would have come back right away…

“Huh?”

Something caught her eye as she walked through the downpour.

It was a long piece of cloth.

Half-buried in the mud, it stretched out, as if something had been dragged along.

Following it with her eyes, she saw that it led to the forest.

And on the cloth were rips and tears.

Suddenly, a sense of foreboding warmed Feya’s chest. It wasn’t a logical deduction, but an instinctive gut feeling.

Feya, as if possessed, walked towards the forest.

And found Rem, being beaten up by knights.

…

…

…

What happened next was blurred like a fog.

All Feya knew was that, a moment later, she was carrying Rem on her back, her hands stained with blood that wasn’t hers.

Rem kept mumbling something, but his weak voice was drowned out by the rain, inaudible. She could only feel his trembling body against her back.

Gritting her teeth, Feya headed straight to her tent. As soon as they were inside, she lit the heater and laid Rem down before it.

Then, she closed the tent flap, blocking the rain.

The sound of the downpour faded.

Feya, taking a moment to catch her breath, collapsed on the floor. And it was only then she could hear what Rem was mumbling.

“I-I’m… s-sorry… I-I dropped… the cloth…”

At that moment, Feya felt something rising up, a hot lump, choking her throat.

But she pushed it down for now.

“… Stay still.”

She soaked a towel in warm water that she had prepared beforehand, and then she carefully started to wipe away the blood and mud that covered Rem’s body.

“…”

Cleanliness is the same as being naked. The dirtier the towel got, the clearer the extent of his injuries became.

His nose was broken, his face swollen terribly. It seemed like he was in a lot of pain, because every time the cloth touched his skin, his body would tremble violently, making Feya grimace and slow down her movements.

It took her a while to just clean his face and arms.

Feya, after catching her breath, took out a potion.

“It will hurt, but force yourself to drink it.”

Then, she gently tilted it to Rem’s lips.

His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times, and his wounds started to heal. However, the healing stopped after a certain point.

In the end, the finishing touches had to be done by human hands.

Feya brought out bandages and a needle to start properly treating his wounds.

…

…

…

“…I’m sorry.”

As she was almost done with the treatment.

She looked up at the sudden apology. She saw Rem’s face, covered in ointment and bandages.

“U-usually, you just curse at me and walk away, but today suddenly…”

“The hell are you apologizing for?”

Her words came out harsher than she had intended. She exhaled the heat forcibly and continued.

“…It wasn’t your fault. So just keep your mouth shut. You’ll rip your stitches.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah, really. So…”

Feya stopped speaking.

Rem’s hands, his entire body, began to tremble.

“Then why does everyone here hate me…?”

It was only after hearing his choked voice that she realized he was crying. His tears, unable to flow from his missing eyes, were only evident in his trembling body and voice.

“Every time I step out of the tent, I can feel the people here glaring at me like they want to kill me. All sorts of curses follow me as if they want me to hear them.”

His shoulders shook.

“Bu-But I don’t even know why. I don’t remember anything…! I-I don’t even know why… why I don’t have my eyes, why I don’t have my hands, why my…”

He looked at his own body with terrified eyes. Pulling himself into a ball, he continued,

“I-I’m scared…! Why… Why is this happening to me? What did I… How could I have sinned so much to deserve this punishment? I… I just…”

Rem couldn’t continue. He simply lay there, curled up into a ball, his back trembling, making choked sounds.

That was the true feeling Rem had been hiding until now.

The fear he had hidden behind a facade of forced cheerfulness.

Something Feya had never witnessed before.

Every human heart has a roof, a place where emotions pile up like snow.

Thanks to this roof, we can think rationally. We can see clearly without being swayed by emotions.

However, even a roof has a limit, a limit to how much it can hold.

And the moment it’s reached, the roof collapses, and emotions, raw and untamed, will overwhelm us. They will shake us, push us, and throw us around.

And that’s when humans act.

At that moment, Feya’s roof crumbled with a loud crash.

She quietly pulled him into an embrace.

“…!”

Though it was Feya who had acted, she was the one who was surprised. Blushing, she hurriedly tried to pull away.

“___!”

But Rem clung to her clothes first.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder.

Though there were no tears, the trembling of his sobs was clear. That trembling, mixed with a sense of pity, stirred something within her.

Feya’s eyes trembled for a moment, then she hugged him back.

Not too tightly,

but not so loosely that he could slip away from her arms.

Just like she had embraced a fox a long time ago.

…

…

…

Rem, the bastard, cried himself to sleep.

Feya carefully untangled his arms from around her waist. She picked him up and laid him on top of the sleeping bag.

Then, sitting in front of him, she let out a silent sigh.

*Just how did things get this complicated?*

She just wanted to treat the mage who had defeated her with respect and to keep her promise.

But…

“…”

Rem, sleeping peacefully while breathing softly.

His face, covered in ointment and bandages, looked as if it could shatter at any moment. He looked especially young and fragile.

“Haa… Just what the hell should I…”

It was then.

“…!”

As if he were having a nightmare, Rem’s brow furrowed. He tossed and turned, clawing at his neck. The ointment she had carefully applied came off.

Panicked, Feya grabbed Rem’s arms first. She intended to prevent his wounds from reopening.

“Ha…”

But the moment she did, Rem calmed down, as if by magic. He even smiled faintly as if he were comfortable.

Feya stared at him for a moment, then couldn’t help but chuckle. She placed her hand on her chin and muttered without realizing it.

“…They’re really similar.”

To wake up from nightmares and have a look of relief when she held his paw…

He was exactly like the fox she used to raise. Now that she thought about it, even his hair was the same color, a snowy white.

Could it be that her fox had come back to her, reincarnated as a human?

…No, that’s impossible.

That fox had turned into a pool of blood right before her eyes.

It must be just a coincidence.

Feya smiled bitterly, pushing that delusion away. Then, stroking Rem’s wrist, she returned to her original worry.

So what should she do now?

…Thankfully, she didn’t think for long.

The answer was obvious.

Looking at Rem’s sleeping face, Feya made up her mind.