I couldn’t discern the expression on Miroslav’s face upon seeing me. All I knew was that she collapsed like a broken doll, unconscious.
A sense of foreboding washed over me as I observed her fall, prompting me to leap off the saddle and avoid the predicament of Clau-Solas having to descend. While the impact of the landing should have resulted in severe injuries, I fortified my body with energy, enduring the impact.
Rushing towards Miroslav, I found the red-haired mage completely unresponsive. She didn’t react to my calls or even a gentle tap on her cheek. As previously mentioned, her clothes and skin were filthy, and upon closer inspection, her limbs appeared thinner than usual, with sunken cheeks. It seemed she had gone without food for an extended period.
My brows furrowed instinctively.
When I found Miroslav, my initial plan was to carry her back to Ishka as she was, but it wouldn’t be ideal to transport her in that state on Clau-Solas. Unfortunately, there was no village at the foot of Mount Skim, which served as a nest for monsters. However, there was no other choice but to remain on Mount Skim until Miroslav recovered to a minimally healthy state.
Fortunately, I found a resting spot. With Miroslav placed on my back, I carefully made my way towards the summit, trying to minimize any jarring movements.
After a while, I stumbled upon a small spring concealed amidst the mountains and trees.
In the Skim Volcano, the spring water was undrinkable due to its sulfur content. However, the water from this spring near the summit was free of any sulfurous odor and safe for consumption.
If you’re wondering how I knew about this place, it was because the Griffin I had defeated before used this spring as a source of drinking water. Other monsters refrained from approaching it, ensuring its cleanliness.
Although I had assumed the spring would be abandoned after dealing with the Griffin, it seemed luck was on my side. There was no strange presence or any odd creatures in the vicinity.
Without delay, I positioned Miroslav at the edge of the spring and undressed her without hesitation. She had prepared clothes in anticipation of her extended stay on the mountain, so there was no need for concern.
At this point, I doubted Miroslav would be surprised at being seen naked. Almost every day in the Flies’ Nest—cough, cough.
Let me clarify that I was not interested in Miroslav’s current state in any other sense. It was simply that her condition demanded cleanliness to prevent any potential illness. How did Miroslav, someone who cared so much about her appearance, end up in this sorry state on the mountain?
Pondering over that, I cleansed her body of dirt using the spring water. If there were any wounds, I made sure to apply the herbs I had brought along. From her face to her neck, from her shoulders to her arms, from her chest to her waist, from her thighs to her ankles. And her hair. Gradually, Miroslav’s body regained its natural color, but there was no response from her. If I hadn’t noticed the faint sound of her breathing and the gentle rise and fall of her chest, I might have mistaken her for being lifeless.
Yet, Miroslav remained unconscious. Left with no other choice, I soaked a cloth in a stamina potion and placed it in her mouth as a substitute for sustenance.
Eventually, a day and a half later, Miroslav stirred from her slumber.
Her awakening was sudden.
Speaking in a barely audible voice, Miroslav raised the upper part of her body and scanned her surroundings with a sharp gaze. After spending over ten days on Mount Skim, her reaction was only natural, I suppose.
Then, her gaze met mine.
Would she scream? Or voice her anger? That’s what I anticipated, but instead, she simply regarded me with curiosity and surprise.
She looked, observed, as if she could see right through me.
— It was strange, I suppose. I had half-expected her to have lost her memory due to fatigue and exhaustion. Even though I had considered making a sarcastic remark like “It’s a shame you’re not Lars,” looking at the current state of Miroslav, I felt no inclination to do so.
In a soft voice, I attempted to initiate a conversation with the red-haired mage.
“Are you okay? Can you understand me?”
“………………..You’re Sora, aren’t you?”
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Upon hearing her response, I unintentionally let out a sigh of relief.
“I see that you recognize me. I was concerned that you might have lost your memory, given your disoriented state.”
“…………..Why are you here?”
“I came to rescue you at Lars’ request. Ah, don’t say it was unnecessary. If it weren’t for me, you would undoubtedly have become a monster’s meal by now.”
“…….I figured.”
Saying so, Miroslav attempted to rise. However, I suppose due to just waking up and lacking nourishment, she lacked the energy and ended up falling back on her backside.
Understanding her condition, Miroslav seemed to realize that she couldn’t avoid it and approached me, who was seated a short distance away.
Despite soiling her hands and knees, she paid no mind to it. Her eyes remained fixed on me, unwavering.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
There was no response to my question. She wasn’t that far away to begin with, so Miroslav quickly closed the distance between us.
In fact, she moved even closer than before, our eyes and noses nearly touching as she stared at me intently.
Uncertain of her intentions, I furrowed my brows.
Would her gaze be unfocused? Would confusion flicker in her eyes? It wasn’t either of those. Miroslav’s eyes held a sharp intelligence, indicating that her sanity remained intact.
In that case, what was the meaning behind this unwavering gaze? As I pondered in doubt, Miroslav suddenly took action.
Puff, she buried her face in my chest.
My reaction was delayed, as the movement didn’t convey any hostility or aggression. Frankly, I never imagined Miroslav would do something like this, not even in my wildest dreams. So, I was simply taken aback in a normal sense. In a way, it was more surprising than being attacked by magic.
Moreover, in that position, Miroslav began to silently weep. Her hands tightly clung to my body as if she never wanted to let go.
At that moment, I felt bewildered.
I couldn’t pretend or feign anything, nor did I have the inclination to ask her why. Thus, I found myself at her mercy. It made me uncomfortable, truth be told. Responding to magical attacks would have been easier than dealing with Miroslav in this manner.
Feeling the need to address the situation, I gently stroked Miroslav’s head with my right hand and patted her back with my left hand. I offered comfort to Miroslav, who cried like a child.
I couldn’t determine if her crying intensified or not.
After some time, Miroslav’s tears subsided, and she began to express her thoughts, her face still nestled against my chest.
She spoke about what transpired after I freed her from the Lord of the Flies’ nest, about the memories that had intruded upon her and taken root in her chest.
She shared how, while following my instructions to corner Lars and the others, her feelings for Lars had gradually started to fade away.
She revealed her plan to dismantle “Falcon Sword,” her decision not to go with Lars, and her determination to raise her level to return to my side. And she had actually achieved it.
— Based on what I gathered, Miroslav’s longing had completely shifted from Lars to me. The act performed in the Lord of the Flies’snest had unexpectedly transformed into affection— I can’t believe it.
I recalled a story I had heard before. It was about a group of notorious bandits who had occupied a village in the empire for a long time. They had taken the villagers hostage in an attempt to save their captured comrades from the knights. Eventually, the bandits were slain by the knights, but at that moment, some of the hostages sympathized with the bandits instead of the knights who had rescued them. Some even tried to shield the bandits.
In an isolated environment, the captured villagers had adapted to the bandits’ ways in order to survive. Initially, they might have been hesitant, but the prolonged situation created a psychological connection. It developed into a dependence on the bandits and became deeply ingrained in the hearts of the villagers. Consequently, they started taking an interest in the bandits who were supposed to be their captors— that was the story.
Perhaps that was Miroslav’s current state. I had distorted the mind of a woman through violence and confinement. While embracing Miroslav, I involuntarily entertained such thoughts.
Ah, what a sinful thing I have done— I shouldn’t be thinking like this.
Of course, it would be a significant issue if Miroslav were an innocent woman.
However, she was the one who tried to kill me. There is no remorse for seeking revenge against Miroslav. If her heart has been distorted as a result, then it’s simply perfect for me. I feel no guilt.
Perhaps that experience with Miroslav had indeed transformed into affection, just as I had thought. It’s perfect for me. From now on, she will only serve as a provider of souls, the final thread that remains for Lars, something I have managed to reclaim. I’m sure Miroslav would also be content with that.
I continued to stroke Miroslav’s head. I continued to pat her back.
Amidst that, a significant smile formed on my face.
TLNote : After finishing Volume 2, I might pause translating this novel. BUT! If “Revenge of Soul Eater” wins the poll, I’ll continue with Volume 3. Your votes will decide. Thanks for your support!
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