Breeding Season - Chapter 15
The posture of Yasamin, who had been confirming the kill by thrusting his kukri into each rolling head, became careless. Watching the slanting corner of his eyes, she mumbled an excuse.
“No, it’s not that… it’s gone, it’s disappeared…”
“Ah.”
The round kukri rested on his shoulder.
Thud.
Blood droplets fell in a circular pattern.
He approached her, as if it was nothing, grabbed her chin, and examined her from all angles.
“The plan was to have all the survivors scatter immediately if there was an internal traitor. By the time we reach the south, everyone has to live on their own and make it back.”
“Why…?”
“Why, you ask? It’s because I don’t know who the traitor is. If everyone moves separately, someone will eventually chase me, and that person will be the traitor.”
His tone was casual. It was so nonchalant that it almost made the recent events seem like a lie. For a moment, Siren’s legs gave out, and she sank to the ground.
No matter how much she tried to straighten her back, it wouldn’t happen. Yasamin, with the gleam of someone seeing an amusing toy, stared at her.
“So, how does it feel to taste another world, Princess?”
His tone, unlike before, now carried a touch of malice. Not knowing what to say, Siren lowered her head deeply.
A person… another person had died. This time, they had turned into an infected. Ratakun, the person who always gave her food, who was blunt yet kind, had turned into an infected.
Why? Who did this? Who did this to him?
That person was a good person…
“Always.”
“Hm?”
“Always like this? The family I ate with just yesterday, they became infected… infected.”
“Why ask about something so obvious? This is everyday life.”
Ah, there was a hell in this world that I didn’t know about.
I thought I was the only one suffering and pitiful, unaware of such chaos.
“After all… after all, I…”
How pathetic.
Her skinny hands trembled violently. The frail shaking soon spread throughout her entire body. Unable to steady herself, Siren eventually buried her face in her knees.
I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid.
She felt the urge to gag, but forced herself to swallow the sourness.
“Was it a big shock? I should have covered your eyes.”
At that moment, a languid voice brushed against her ear. Siren slowly lifted her head at the sound of movement in front of her.
Her tear-soaked eyes made it hard to see Yasamin’s face, but this time, she couldn’t hold back the tears. Not because she was scared, not because she was terrified.
“You’ve always endured this kind of life…”
“……”
“I didn’t know it was like this. I didn’t know it was like this. I’m sorry for being a Wilkeron….”
Why didn’t my father send knights to help? Why did the previous kings keep ignoring it?
They could have helped before these people became accustomed to such things. A person turns into an infected that quickly. If there’s a sudden mutation, they should be killed.
How could my father ignore this even though he knew?
“Are you crying?”
Yasamin tilted his head as he looked at her face, where tears were pouring down.
‘You’re so foolishly kind.’
Is she really crying over something like this?
If she has the strength to cry, she should cry for herself.
‘Well, if you’re proud of not dying while causing a ruckus and running away, then I guess that’s something. Normally, Wilkerons start cursing when they see infected.’
Yasamin sighed deeply, his lips curling.
“It’ll take a long time to teach you the southern way.”
“Sniff, sniff… Ugh…”
“Get up now, Princess. We need to move before more infected gather.”
***
Thud, thud.
Sparks flew from the burning firewood. She hadn’t known.
That on a summer night, if you light a campfire with a particular type of wood, it would drive away the bugs, and that the smell was refreshing rather than stifling.
He had taught her all of it. He had made her sit down while she sobbed silently, then moved the firewood himself.
‘I was no help at all.’
The branches she had gathered were either soaked or smoking too much, making them unsuitable for burning. She had failed to find a stone to use as flint because she didn’t know what flint was. She had never seen it.
‘What can I even do?’
After calming down a bit, Siren sat still, like a rock or tree, thinking and thinking again.
