Chapter 52.1
The clang of shackles echoed as the orc halted before Adeline. Its head, swiveling grotesquely, emitted a stench of stale meat. Adeline was ready to fire if it showed any sign of aggression. She held her breath. Just then, the orc’s yellow eyes drifted past her, fixing on the man behind her.
The hulking creature froze, as if witnessing something unbelievable. A moment later, a strange, guttural roar erupted, accompanied by the stench of its breath and a surprisingly resonant voice.
“Dancing! Snake! Diet!” The shout, loud enough to ring in their ears, startled everyone.
“Bloody hell, not this again!” Bellowing, the orc spun around, kicking against the bars of its cage and fleeing. It didn’t forget to knock over a lamp as it crashed into a stone table. The heavy thudding of its escape faded into the distance.
“Did I forget to lock Pippi’s shackles again?”
“Yeah, you were too busy talking stocks. Go catch it before it gets to the breeding pits.” Cursing, the men ran out the same way they’d entered. Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the lingering scent of stale meat. Adeline turned, asking, “What did you do? Did you dance? Or diet?”
“…I didn’t do anything,” Damian replied, a frown creasing his face. This unexpected opportunity for escape was too good to pass up. Adeline quickly purchased a lamp from the shop and lit it.
“Let’s get out of here before they come back. I don’t know for sure, but this place seems like a guild, similar to Leon.”
As Adeline hurriedly dressed, Damian retrieved Rune’s body. He gently laid the corpse on the stone table beside the lamp. Damian’s large hand closed Rune’s staring eyes. Limp and lifeless, Rune resembled a doll whose wind-up mechanism had fully unwound, a doll devoid of will, needing someone else to wind it up and give it purpose. Approaching the table, Adeline said bitterly, “I hate death. Even if you swore you wouldn’t die, I wouldn’t want you to do anything remotely close to it.”
Her gaze, wavering, fell upon Damian’s bloodstained palm. “That’s why I couldn’t kill the others. Shade, Bruja, even the woman who stepped on Rune. I could have easily eliminated them.” But she hadn’t. No, she didn’t.
“It’s pathetic how weak my will was. For them, all of this is just an illusion. Yet I didn’t have the courage to take away their illusions.”
Her words tumbled out, a confession of her inner turmoil. Despite her outward composure, the ordeal had taken its toll. The death of someone who had just moments ago spoken of their dreams wasn’t something easily accepted.
“If I had killed Bruja without hesitation, if I had eliminated all the pursuers, at least it wouldn’t have been those living in reality who died.”
The faces of Bruja, boasting about his diamond sword, and Rune, arms outstretched, rambling about the moon, flashed before her eyes. Even the small fairies, fearlessly clinging to Damian and teasing him, were gone. They were gone because she had mistakenly believed hypocrisy was better than cynicism, because she had foolishly played the role of a kind protagonist. This wasn’t some coming-of-age adventure novel. Her mistake was treating those living in a fake world as if they were real. Her hesitation had killed them.
“What was I even thinking? Talking about horizons, about going together, as if this was some lighthearted adventure. This whole world could be fake. I haven’t even met the friend I came here to find.”
Adeline bit her lip and began rubbing her palm, hard enough to cause pain. She scratched and scraped until the skin peeled.
“I guess I got a little carried away. Being with you again, and like I said, this was my dream. In the end, it’s all my fault.”
A strong hand stopped her. She flinched and looked up. Damian held her hand open and slowly lowered his head. His lips touched the sore spot she had been rubbing. A ticklish, embarrassing sensation spread across her skin as Adeline stood, dazed. His elegant nose, as it brushed against her, seemed as sacred and graceful as if kissing the altar of some holy temple.
“They followed me,” he murmured, lifting his head slightly to meet her gaze.
“So it’s not your fault.”
Even without sweet words, she understood his unique comfort. The stoic man expressed his emotions through actions. Overcome with emotion, Adeline embraced him, and he familiarly wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Burying her face in his chest, Adeline regretted her weakness.
This wasn’t a vacation. Perhaps she had been mistaken, thinking she and they were the same because she had received financial support from Woo Yune and favor from Leon. But they weren’t the same. They were different. The players had set fire to a factory district teeming with fairies, just to catch Damian. They wouldn’t feel any guilt over taking lives.
Their absolution would be written in the fact that this wasn’t reality. Gritting her teeth, Adeline spat out, “I won’t let another Rune be sacrificed. If necessary, I will crush their dreams too.”
Pulling away from Damian, she approached the insignificant corpse. The small body, though not yet stiff, was different from sleep. What was a soul, that its departure could turn a person into a doll? It was utterly, devastatingly empty. Rune, who spoke of the sky even with clipped wings. But dreams could be shattered by a single footstep. Adeline carefully wrapped Rune’s body with the remaining bandages, then opened the lamp and poured the oil over him.
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