Chapter 774
“I met Lord Feon yesterday.”
Crackle–! Snap!
The firewood blackened and burned in the flames of the campfire. Simon quietly gazed at the sight for a moment before he spoke.
“That must’ve been nice.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve always looked forward to meeting Feon again.”
“Hm–”
Maelyn pulled her legs in and hugged them with her arms. Resting her face on her knees, she stared quietly at the burning wood.
Around them, the air was noisy with drunken voices, but for some reason, here at least, a calm stillness flowed.
Soon, she lifted her chin slightly and fixed her gaze on Simon. In her eyes, a strange light flickered.
“Simon.”
“Yeah.”
Simon answered.
“Simon.”
“Hm?”
“Si–mon.”
“Uh, yeah.”
As Simon answered in confusion, her gaze was fixed on his jaw.
The memory was vivid.
How could she forget.
She had slightly lifted Feon’s helmet to see that jaw.
Sharp and distinct lines of the neck overall, a man’s protruding Adam’s apple and the nape of the neck.
As expected.
‘They look alike.’
Maelyn slowly looked up at him.
Her same-aged friend, looking a little bigger and sturdier than usual, was smiling nervously, beads of sweat trickling down.
‘But.’
There had been one crucial incident that hammered in for her the fact that Simon was not Feon.
Back in their first year, when she and the current companions all went to the Neutral Zone for the dispatch evaluation.
–Lord Feon! Isn’t that right?
She had witnessed Feon there with her own eyes.
–Who are you? Why do you keep showing up wherever we are? Are you trying to say something…?!
At her questioning, Feon had fled like he was running away. At that time, Maelyn had still been instinctively convinced that Feon and Simon were the same person.
–Maelyn? You disappeared all of a sudden, I was worried. What’s going on?
Simon appeared from behind her.
It was the scene where Feon and Simon existed in the same place at the same time.
The truth was Erzebet transformed into Simon’s appearance, but there was no way Maelyn could have known that. Just in case Simon was the fake, she made him use Darkness, but his Darkness was the usual deep-blue.
Simon was Simon, Feon was Feon.
That’s how she had thought, yet why did she keep.
‘Why does my heart pound?’
She stared at Simon’s jaw.
Her face flushed with blood, her heart thumped loudly. A stinging sensation brushed the bridge of her nose, her mouth went dry.
That same feeling from when she first saw Feon’s jaw.
“What’s wrong? Maelyn.”
Simon smiled awkwardly.
“Your face is red.”
“Uh, uuh? Ah! It’s nothing!”
She snapped her head away, covering her cheeks with her hands.
This wasn’t right.
She’d only meant to test him a little, so what was she doing getting shaken first.
Calm down, calm down.
She took a deep breath in and out, trying to steady her pounding chest. But the damn heart refused to quiet down.
Thump– thump– thump– thump–
How fortunate that this beating sound couldn’t be heard by others. She clenched her eyes shut, then, with courage, snapped her head back toward Simon.
“A, anyway, Lord Feon saved me back then.”
“I’m glad you were safe.”
“Eildar Hydra, or whatever? I was fighting that huge Hydra and lost consciousness. Then when I came to and opened my eyes, I saw Lord Feon’s face.”
She gazed at Simon with downcast eyes.
“At that moment, I thought Lord Feon was you.”
“……”
Maelyn’s eyes sharpened, as if she wouldn’t miss a single reaction.
“For a moment your faces overlapped, so of course I thought it was you.”
Now then, how would he respond. She stared steadily at Simon.
But.
“……”
A dark shadow loomed across Simon’s face.
‘Hm? Why’s he like that?’
Maelyn blinked.
Simon tilted his head back, or covered his forehead with his palm, or let out a long sigh.
Then.
“Sorry.”
His voice came out ragged and frayed.
“Uh, huh?”
“I heard everything about how dangerous it was for you back then.”
Simon pressed both hands to his head, self-reproachful.
“While you guys, the first-years, all together went to rescue Professor Hongpeng and fought the Hydra, I was pathetically knocked out under collapsed rubble.”
“Uh, hm?”
“As Student Council President, I’d bragged that I’d go find Professor Hongpeng, but in the end I couldn’t do a thing! It was only thanks to Feon being there, otherwise you could’ve been in real danger.”
He bowed his head deeply.
“I’m… really the worst.”
Maelyn, seeing Simon’s self-blame for the first time in her life, was quite taken aback.
Come to think of it.
Later, when Simon had been lying injured, he kept apologizing, saying sorry, sorry he couldn’t help.
Because he’d been hurt while volunteering as bait to save them, the student council members told him he didn’t need to apologize, but Simon seemed to carry that part heavily in his heart.
‘Well, that’s understandable. As president, the weight of responsibility must’ve been heavy.’
And Simon had always performed his role in any harsh or poor situation. This might have been his first time missing out on a battle so vainly, knocked out cold.
The shock could’ve been big. He could’ve felt crushed. Of course, Simon was mentally strong and mature, often absentminded, but still, he was an eighteen-year-old peer.
‘But what did I just say?’
–Then when I came to and opened my eyes, I saw Lord Feon’s face. At that moment, I thought Lord Feon was you.
–For a moment your faces overlapped, so of course I thought it was you.
Don’t tell me he took that as.
‘Did he think I was comparing him to Feon?!’
Or maybe like this?
–Hey, I obviously thought it was you, but it turned out to be Lord Feon. So where the hell were you then?
“Nooo!”
Her face beet red to the limit, Maelyn shrieked, grabbing Simon’s shoulders tight.
“?!”
Simon toppled over on the spot, Maelyn pushing him down as she shouted, face burning.
“No, you idiot! I just! I only… I–!”
Her words caught, then she yelled.
“Y-you, from the first year, whenever I was in danger, you always saved me! So naturally your face was the first to pop into my mind! Of course, not just me, but you helped everyone that way too! So this time I just mistakenly thought it was you! Don’t go attaching weird meanings, dummy!”
Simon’s face turned red.
They were too close, far too close. And this entangled position, wasn’t it bound to be misunderstood? Some of the drinking villagers snickered.
Her face red enough to drip blood, Maelyn even had tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as she shouted.
“I’ve always been thankful to you! I’ve always thought of you as my savior! Just because you missed one battle, would I say something nasty like that?! And after all the time we’ve spent together, you think I’d belittle you over a single misstep? I, I never meant it that way!”
She rambled incoherently. It seemed even she didn’t know what she was saying anymore.
People who’d only caught part of it whistled, thinking it a typical lover’s quarrel.
“O-okay! I get it! I understand, Maelyn! I’m sorry! Just calm down….”
Simon hurriedly sat up, trying to soothe her.
‘…I only pretended to self-blame because I thought Maelyn was testing me a bit.’
Simon Follentia blamed himself. Since he’d never acted that way before, the impact had been tremendous.
He was sweating bullets, struggling to calm her down.
“A-anyway! I…!”
Breathing heavily, Maelyn wiped the corners of her eyes.
“I really didn’t mean it in a bad way!”
“Of course, I know! I understand.”
Now Simon felt guilty instead.
But fortunately, it seemed Maelyn no longer suspected him of being Feon. Though it stung a little, he decided to apologize properly later.
Simon tried to change the subject, bringing up the story of how Hongpeng had devoured nearly fifty servings of food that morning.
“Wow, you two sure look cozy.”
Then, with a sly laugh, someone appeared.
It was Kinter, Hongpeng’s direct disciple, from the Magical Combat Department.
“So, what, is today your day one, or something?”
“It’s not like that, you bastard!”
Maelyn, her face red, shrieked and hurled a pebble. Kinter shrugged his shoulders, dodged, and looked at Simon.
“Anyway, I lost, Student Council President.”
He must’ve been referring to the bet they’d made earlier, something Simon had completely forgotten in the chaos of battle. Kinter continued.
“A promise is a promise. I’ll quit being Professor Hongpeng’s direct disciple. I’ll soon file the transfer request….”
“I already heard.”
Simon spoke.
“They say you saved Professor Hongpeng at the end, right?”
“…Uh, what of it?”
“Thank you.”
Simon said it with genuine sincerity.
At that time, Simon had been so focused on severing the Hydra’s heads that he couldn’t cover for the already exhausted Hongpeng at all, and even during battle, he had constantly worried about her. Luckily, members of the student council, the trio of first-years, and students from the Magical Combat Department had come to help.
Kinter frowned as if he’d heard something bizarre. Why should he be thanked by Simon for saving his own professor?
“And forget the bet.”
Driving Kinter out of the Magical Combat Department for a moment’s satisfaction would only end up hurting Hongpeng. It would be nothing but robbing her of one of her students. Simon had nothing to gain from that.
“Ha, showing mercy, are you?”
Kinter closed his eyes.
“But a bet is a bet. I’ll stop being her direct disciple. I’m too lacking to be taught by Professor Hongpeng. And.”
“?”
As Simon quietly looked at him, Kinter screwed his eyes shut and turned his back.
“Damn it. Forget it.”
Simon didn’t insist on stopping him from quitting as her direct disciple. Soon, Kinter turned away, waving a hand toward the two of them.
“Sorry for disturbing. Enjoy your cozy time.”
“It’s not like that, you idiot!”
At Maelyn’s sharp cry, Simon laughed.
* * *
The drinking party grew livelier.
Even if words didn’t translate well, gestures and body language did. Everyone chatted, roared with laughter, and bustled merrily.
But, there was one person drifting apart from the group.
It was Belya. She was sprawled like a leopard on a tree branch, drinking alone. Expelled from her clan over a disgraceful incident, she wasn’t someone who could blend into such gatherings.
When Hongpeng had said she was taking Simon to visit, she’d thought to use it as an excuse to come along. But once she saw her clansmen, she found herself instinctively hiding away.
“…Seriously. Why did I even come.”
She tilted back the bottle of liquor. Then she scowled, shaking it up and down.
Already empty.
Clicking her tongue, she pushed herself up to leave.
“Aren’t you coming down, sister?”
A familiar voice rang out. Hongpeng had walked along the branches toward her without her noticing.
“A banished one, what for. How’d you even know I was here? I was hiding my presence.”
“There’s always a way.”
“…Damn brat.”
Belya smirked.
“Anyway, you bring my sweetheart here to hog him all for yourself? Like they say, a tame cat is first on the stove.”
“He doesn’t even take your classes, does he?”
“Next semester I’ll force him if I have to. Now that I know what a monster he is.”
The two shared a laugh. Soon, Hongpeng lay back against the branch beside her.
“When we were little, we used to lie down like this and watch the night sky.”
“We did.”
They gazed at the moon in silence for a while.
In that comfortable stillness.
“At least see father before you go.”
Hongpeng suggested gently.
“No way.”
Belya shook her head firmly.
–Banished! You shall never again set foot on the land of Marlat!
That was her father, the clan chief at the time. It was by his decree that Belya had been cast out.
“You know what he said to me, don’t you? I only came back out of spite, but it just soured my mood. I’ll be leaving….”
Clack!
Hongpeng held something out.
An old wooden box. Hongpeng’s face tightened.
“What’s this?”
“It’s yours. Open it.”
Click.
With a disinterested face, she opened it—then color bloomed on her expression.
“Hey! Don’t tell me this is—!”
“That’s right. Grassland mare’s milk wine.”
“Kyaa!”
Overjoyed, she hopped on the branch. Leaves rained down with a rustle.
“You’re the only one who cares about me, little sister! I’ll enjoy it!”
“That’s father’s.”
Freeze.
Belya stopped moving.
“What?”
“Father made it.”
Whenever Hongpeng returned home, she always spoke with their father.
As drinks flowed, inevitably, Belya’s name would surface.
–How’s she doing these days?
Their father, retired from being clan chief, would always begin with that. Hongpeng would smile and answer.
At that time, Belya had yet to become a professor at Keyzen. Hongpeng said she lived drinking like a drunkard, yet had become a famous fighter in the back alleys.
Father had laughed out loud.
–She takes after me in her love of drink.
–She misses the mare’s milk wine from home, she said.
–Yeah, back then she’d dip her finger in the jars and get scolded by your mother for being drunk.
After such talks.
The very next day, father would be brewing.
He didn’t drink it himself, though he loved liquor, but brewed it carefully and aged it. Even when warriors eyed it on festival days, he never opened it.
Years went by like that.
“Nonsense.”
Belya scowled.
“You think father who worships liquor would brew it for me, a banished one? He just made it for himself…!”
“Look at the bottom of the bottle.”
Still sulking, Belya did as told. On the underside of the bottle, tiny carved letters were inscribed.
Clumsy, crooked letters. Written in awkward Continental script he had learned from Hongpeng.
–For my eldest daughter.
Belya’s pupils trembled. All six bottles said the same.
“At night, father always leaves the window open, sets the bottles by the sill, then goes to bed.”
Hongpeng smiled faintly.
“I took one of them.”
“……”
A shadow fell over Belya’s face.
With trembling arms, she gripped the bottle, twisting the cork free.
A fragrant aroma teased her nose. Slowly, she lifted the bottle and drank.
Gulp, gulp–
Her Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long pull, she lowered the bottle and let out a laugh.
“Ah, this.”
Turning her head aside, Belya quietly looked up at the sky.
“Tastes like home.”
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