Chapter 31: Aftermath and Revelation

Hay spoke softly, putting an arm around Chen’s shoulder as they stepped out of the room.

He gently guided a remorseful Chen to a chair at the dining table, then retrieved Mrs. Ethel’s homemade liquor from the kitchen.

Filling two cups, he settled into the chair opposite Chen.

“Is it alright to drink this without Mrs. Ethel’s permission?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it to her. Just drink. Did your master take in two homeless people and raise them as mages?”

“Ah, actually, Adel found out our master was a mage, then stole his magic staff and blackmailed him into taking us in. She threatened to burn the staff if he didn’t. Our master, despite being a cantankerous old man, had a soft heart. He could have easily turned us away, but he pretended to give in to her threats and accepted us.”

A faint smile touched Chen’s lips, perhaps from the distant memory. He continued to recount stories of his time with Adel.

In truth, Hay held little interest in their shared past.

Yet, for someone who had just lost a cherished companion, all Hay could offer was to listen until Chen exhausted himself.

If only that could bring him even a sliver of comfort.

‘Neither ‘Hay Styles’ nor ‘Han Tae-hyun’ had ever had such a person.’

‘They had both been thrown into life, losing loved ones without even a moment to grieve.’

****

Chen finally succumbed to the liquor’s embrace, falling asleep as dawn approached.

Hay carefully laid him beside Renki, then stepped out of Mrs. Ethel’s house, seeking to shake off the lingering effects of the alcohol.

He crouched on the porch, his stomach churning and burning, a consequence of drinking on an empty one.

As the morning dew settled upon him, Hay surveyed the village landscape. Most of the houses near the entrance had been utterly destroyed.

Even from a distance, he could discern circular depressions in the ground, marking the spots where the Annihilation Dome had consumed the earth.

Somewhere, the sound of anguished wailing carried on the air. He also saw several people sitting before their homes, their faces etched with despair.

Everyone had lost someone. Hay observed these grief-stricken individuals with a detached gaze.

“How is Chen doing?”

Someone abruptly spoke to him. It was Lexa.

“And you, Fortune-teller? Are you feeling alright?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Lexa chuckled, approaching and dropping down beside Hay.

“I took a potion, so I’m fine now.”

“I did the same, and I’ve completely recovered.”

“The village is a mess, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

“Do you know? A Flame Message arrived from Nudan right after you collapsed.”

“A Flame Message?”

This was a scroll magic where a message was written on a special scroll, set ablaze, and then transmitted to the recipient as it burned away.

In this world, where other communication methods were undeveloped, it served as a common, albeit expensive, means of long-distance contact.

“A retreat order was issued only after everything was over. Wouldn’t it have been better if they’d sent it earlier? More people might have survived then.”

A bitter smile played on Lexa’s lips. Hay offered no reply.

He believed the situation would not have changed, even if the Flame Message had arrived sooner.

“I heard one hundred seventy-four died.”

“Three more died at dawn. Their injuries were too severe for treatment; they simply couldn’t hold on.”

“Kisen lost an eye, I heard.”

“Yes, that’s what happened. It’s truly regrettable. It seems he’s lost his depth perception and sense of distance.”

“What’s Kisen doing now?”

“What else? He’s cleaning up this mess.”

“He lost an eye, yet he’s acting as if nothing happened?”

“How could that be?”

Lexa hugged her knees, resting her chin upon them.

“Still, Kisen said he was relieved to have lost an eye rather than his right arm. Perhaps that’s how it is for a swordsman? Indeed, if it were me, I’d rather lose an eye than a hand. A mage’s hands are their life. Anyway, you’ve been drinking, haven’t you, Mr. Unemployed?”

“Do I smell strongly of it?”

“I want some too.”

“It’s on the table.”

“I’ll go get a glass. Want another, Mr. Unemployed?”

“I’m fine.”

Hay waved his hand dismissively.

Lexa rose to fetch the liquor. Hay called out, stopping her just as she opened the door.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“You’re a 7th-class, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, how did you know?”

“When I captured the Black Mage, he couldn’t move a muscle, so I had a hunch.”

“Ah, I guess I was bound to be found out.”

“But why did you hide it? If you’re 7th-class, you could earn more as a mercenary.”

“Because of my body.”

Lexa gave a wry smile as she explained.

“As you’ve seen, the more I use magic, the more internal damage I sustain. I can use 7th-class magic, but if I cast powerful or large-scale spells a few times, like yesterday, I’ll vomit blood and collapse. Spells of 5th-class magnitude might just make me throw up, at worst, but anything beyond that, my body simply can’t handle. That’s why I registered as a mercenary with a lower skill level.”

Lexa spoke of it casually, as if it were nothing significant.

“If using magic harms your body, why do you continue to be a mage?”

“Because this is all I know how to do. I have to use it to make a living; I can’t starve to death, can I?”

Just as Hay prepared to respond, another visitor arrived.

“You’re awake.”

It was Kisen.

“Well, I’m going to have a drink.”

Lexa slipped into the house as if to avoid the conversation.

Hay had more questions, but he refrained from calling Lexa back.

“I’ve been awake for a while. I apologize for not being able to help with the cleanup.”

“Don’t concern yourself with that.”

Kisen settled heavily into the spot Lexa had just vacated.

His right cheek, which had been severely wounded, was now perfectly clear, without a single scar. The supreme-grade potion had certainly lived up to its costly reputation.

“I heard you lost an eye. My condolences.”

“It’s absurd to lose it in such a manner, but I’m fine. I still have my left eye, after all.”

“That must be inconvenient.”

“I’ll adapt soon enough. And thank you for saving my life yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“Yes, yesterday. You gave me healing water and saved me.”

“Ah, that. I merely kept you clinging to life.”

“Thanks to you keeping me alive, I was able to receive proper treatment and recover safely.”

“That’s true.”

“So, I’m grateful.”

“Right.”

Hay scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

‘I’m supposed to collect a healing fee, but he’s making it awkward.’

“Did you come here just to tell me that?”

“No, I wanted to discuss the Black Mage’s spoils first.”

“Ah, the spoils.”

“Firstly, the spoils we’ve acquired are the Black Mage’s robe and magic staff. Our vice-captain and mercenaries are expected to arrive today, and we plan to search Mount Senugel.

We’ll subjugate any lingering magical beasts and investigate the black orc habitat discovered during the initial reconnaissance. With luck, we might even find the Black Mage’s lair; there could be more spoils there.”

‘The Black Mage’s lair.’

“Will I be participating in the search?”

“Have you fully recovered your mana?”

“It’s still at rock bottom.”

“Then please remain in the village and focus on your recovery. There are still many wounded who require your healing, and the villagers themselves sustained considerable injuries.

Please treat them tomorrow as well; the Nudan lord has agreed to cover their medical expenses.”

“The lord? That’s unexpected.”

“It’s cheaper to absorb a small loss than to lose workers who pay heavy taxes and cultivate farmland.”

“Of course. Understood. Should I begin treating them this afternoon?”

“Please rest thoroughly today and begin tomorrow. There’s no one on the verge of death right now.”

Hay nodded.

Kisen continued.

“Furthermore, once all the Black Mage’s spoils have been gathered and their value assessed, half of it will be given to you.”

“Half?”

To offer him half was a remarkably generous reward.

“You were the one who directly dealt with the Black Mage. Moreover, the successful completion of this request is entirely due to your efforts, isn’t it?”

‘Was this truly a success?’

“It is a success. We annihilated the enemy, after all.”

Kisen added, as if Hay’s thoughts had been plainly visible on his face. Hay felt a flush of embarrassment and rubbed his face.

Indeed, given Hay’s significant contribution to the battle’s victory, it was not an unreasonable distribution by mercenary standards.

“And I have another question.”

Hay turned to Kisen, a quizzical expression on his face.

“A question? What is it?”

“The power of the spirit you used on the undead. It glowed with the same light as when you made the healing water, so was it healing water?”

Hay scratched the back of his neck.

‘He asked that yesterday too.’

“Yes, that’s right.”

“If my hunch is correct, it seems to be ‘Spring Water,’ the power of the Spirit King Elkinon. Am I right?”

Hay’s eyes widened.

Few people knew about the Spirit King’s authority unless they were a spirit user themselves.

“How did you know that?”

Kisen’s gaze sharpened noticeably.

“I once saw a spirit user employ that power, long ago.”

“Oh, really? They must be favored by Elkinon.”

“Hay.”

Kisen called his name, his voice low.

A menacing aura seemed to emanate from him, causing the fine hairs on Hay’s body to prickle. It was an unsettling sensation, as if an unseen force were pressing down on him.

‘Why is he suddenly angry?’

“I have another question.”

“Speak.”

“Do you know anything about an Elf spirit user who wields the same power?”

“I do not.”

Hay replied without a moment’s hesitation. It was not a lie.

Kisen stared intently at Hay, as if trying to peer into his very soul.

“Why?”

Just as the gaze began to grow uncomfortable, Kisen backed away.

“Nothing, never mind. My apologies. You must be tired; please go inside and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He bowed politely and then headed towards the village chief’s house. Hay watched Kisen’s copper-colored head as he walked away.

‘Why is he acting like that all of a sudden?’

Puzzled, but unconcerned, Hay rose and went back inside the house.

“Mr. Unemployed! A drink?”

Lexa waved at Hay.

“Aren’t you tired? Let’s just sleep.”

Hay walked into the living room and checked the bedding laid out on the bare floor. Renki, having apparently woken up from his sleep, walked out of the room, rubbing his eyes.

“Why are you awake? You should sleep more.”

Hay said. Renki kept his eyes closed, as if sleep was still eluding him.

“I was sleeping, but Mr. Chen kicked me…”

It seemed Chen had terrible sleeping habits. Hay sat on the spot where the blanket was spread and patted the space beside him.

“Come here, let’s sleep together.”

“Are you really going to sleep? Won’t you have a drink with me? It’s unfair you only drank with Chen!”

“My stomach isn’t feeling well. Don’t be like that, Fortune-teller, you should lie down too. You’ve been working all this time. You need to rest.”

Renki, stumbling slightly, sat beside Hay and immediately lay down.

Hay covered him with a blanket and lay down next to him. In his sleep, Renki burrowed into his embrace. Hay patted Renki’s shoulder, lulling him back to sleep.

“How boring.”

Lexa grumbled, sitting next to Renki and carelessly tossing off her mud-stained boots, socks, and gloves. Then, using her cloak as a blanket, she turned towards Hay.

Their eyes met.

The dim light cast a pallor over Lexa’s face.

Lexa, who had been pouting with a sulky expression, suddenly asked, as if something had just occurred to her,

“Hey, Mr. Unemployed. Chen, do you think he’ll be alright?”

Hay didn’t stop patting Renki and lowered his gaze.

“How could he be?”

“Then, will he get better?”

“I wonder.”

This time, he offered no answer.

Some overcome the pain of loss, while others crumble beneath it. Hay couldn’t say which path Chen would take.

But one thing was certain: with the passage of time, the sharpness of the current pain would dull.

Even when it hurts, it will feel as if it doesn’t.

Just as memories fade with time,

so too does pain lose its intensity.

To ‘bury it in one’s heart’ is precisely that.