SBTMK Chapter 2

One year later.

With eyes closed, everything could be felt. The sounds of animals moving through undergrowth. The sound of fine grains of sand rolling along on the wind. The sound of a stream running. And even the sound of leaves brushing together. Those sounds wove into one another and formed a perfect chord. Quiet, and peaceful.

Wasn't it absurd. That a world so merciless it seemed to tear at you ravenously could sometimes offer this—comfort, and peace.

How long had she been standing there. The eyelids that had been pressed shut slowly rolled open. An expressionless gaze swept the surroundings. Then swift hands drew the bowstring and let it loose.

Thud— a bird in flight had its wings give out and it dropped from the sky. Her still eyes moved toward where the prey had fallen. There was no pleasure, no joy at a successful hunt. As there never was.

After that, Flora took down two more birds. Only then could she bring the hunt to an end.

She hauled the bleeding animals back without any disturbance in her expression, lit the pile of firewood she had stacked nearby, and roasted them to something edible.

She put the fire out quickly, and dutifully chewed and swallowed chunks of meat alongside edible greens gathered from the mountain. Tough and gamy—but not inedible.

She left a few pieces for the evening, and Flora went inside the dark cave.

This cave was her home. Years of wandering had built her a certain expertise. She had managed to furnish it with the basic shape of a dwelling.

Scraps of cloth gathered from village discards on nighttime trips had been piled into something like a bed; bowls had been collected the same way. There were chips and cracks here and there, but nothing so damaged it couldn't be used.

Flora undressed. She wore nothing underneath, so when the black robe, the white shirt, and the dark navy trousers of cool fabric that fit close against her legs came off, she was immediately bare.

The inside of the cave was damp, with poor light. One might expect to feel cold undressed here—but Flora did not shiver. She moved to the bed, the motion automatic.

She needed to sleep now, even a little, so that she could keep her senses sharpened and watch her surroundings through the evening.

Because attacks tend to come by night.

"Flora. You must survive. You have to survive and protect my child."

Rene. Rene...

Flora's expression, caught in the familiar dream as always, was not at peace.

It was a promise she could no longer keep.

Crack.

Without that out-of-place sound, she might have wandered in the dream much longer.

Flora opened her eyes and swept the surroundings with a wary gaze. Something had unmistakably made the sound of stepping on a branch.

'A beast?'

No. Could be a person.

She couldn't stand the unease without checking for herself. Flora barely managed to throw the robe over her body and grabbed her bow—as close to her as a second self.

Outside the damp cave it was still bright. But that was no reason to feel at ease.

That madman Ayden—he was the kind who would attack at any time, day or night, to achieve his ends.

She suppressed her presence as completely as possible, holding her breath. Whenever a strange sound seemed to come from close by, her movements sharpened without her deciding to.

Then came the moment she stepped on a branch by accident.

"...Ugh."

A waiting arrow flew and grazed her right arm. The acrid sting of pain followed alongside the metallic scent of blood.

Swish. Immediately after, with no pause, a short blade came flying. If she let it go on she'd die where she stood.

She pressed her body behind the largest tree trunk in sight.

'Leech bastards.'

Now that she'd been attacked, it was certain—these were knights sent by Ayden. It seemed this place, too, had come to the end of its usefulness.

Flora's dark pupils deepened and settled. Resolution lived in those decisive eyes.

'I'll finish it again before they can report. Ayden. You'll have to work considerably harder to catch me.'

Flora had no intention of being taken without a fight. She held the bowstring taut, waiting, and scanned her surroundings.

When she held her breath and concentrated, she could hear even the smallest sounds. What was strange was this: the shuffling sound of footsteps growing closer had disappeared—together with a single brief cry.

'What was that?'

She hadn't been the one to attack. And it couldn't be that they had turned on each other.

Flora tilted her head slightly to see what was happening.

Swish. In perfect timing, an arrow grazed right in front of her face. Had she extended her head even one centimeter further, her nose would have been destroyed.

'Damn it.'

Flora decided to stop being curious. Whatever was happening, she was their purpose. She had no desire to trade her life for her own curiosity.

She exhaled once, deeply, concentrated, and loosed an arrow toward the enemy concealed in the shadow of the eastern pine. Human or beast, same as always—a hit.

The sound of an enemy crashing into the brush rang out loudly. Flora reloaded with quick and practiced hands.

Three to the left, two to the right.

She rolled her neck briefly to release the tension. The real work was beginning now.

Flora sprinted out from behind the tree trunk where she'd taken cover, rolled across the ground, and loosed arrows at the two to the right. Two at once—both hits.

Three left.

"You sent quite a few this time. You must be certain I'm here."

Flora checked her remaining arrows. Fortunately, enough to finish the job. She was drawing the bowstring taut again at that moment.

"Are you by any chance playing at war?"

An unfamiliar voice. Quiet—but what the words said came through clearly enough.

Which meant: a stranger had appeared near the Cenkan knights.

That this person wasn't a Cenkan knight was also evident. The knights who had been lying in wait to attack her at any moment had shifted the direction of their assault.

'Who?'

She heard arrows fly in unintended directions a few times—but curiosity, as before, came last.

Right now was the optimal moment to deal with the enemies. Flora's eyes sharpened.

"Seems you've had insufficient training."

Flora's red lips moved.

"The moment you show your back to an enemy—"

Death is all that awaits you.

Words she had heard always from the knight commander who had overseen her training since childhood.

The memory of being caught off guard and beaten—until her shoulder joints and waist and thighs broke and her skin split open—was still vivid.

Flora released the taut bowstring and brought down the enemies.

While the knights scattered in confusion, she dealt with two. One had left no trace at all—apparently taken by the suddenly appearing stranger.

'Then it's finished.'

All the enemies obstructing her field of vision were gone. The stranger was nowhere to be seen.

"Must have died."

Unfortunate, becoming a target in her place—but there was nothing to be done. The thing to do was run. Speaking up in that situation was nothing less than cutting your own lifeline with your own hands.

'Still...'

If there were even a body visible, she could at least make a grave.

The thought that someone had died pointlessly on her account sat uneasily.

Then Flora rose to her feet. The living had to live; this was no time to drag her heels. She had to quickly recover her arrows and leave this place.

"One is—"

She was counting her arrows when something came from directly behind her.

"By any chance, are you looking for this?"

Flora threw a short blade at the figure behind her in an instant. She was genuinely somewhat startled that she had sensed nothing of anyone's approach until they were this close. That kind of unease—it had been a long time.

"...Ugh."

The blade hit the man's thigh with precision. He planted the sword from his other hand into the ground, dropped to the injured knee, and groaned.

"Wow, rough."

"Hand that arrow over."

Flora looked at the man.

He looked young. Handsome. And fortunately, not a Cenkan knight.

That she could tell from his eyes alone. She had seen the gaze of those desperate to capture her more times than she could count. This man had neither hostility nor killing intent.

Flora came to her conclusion in approximately ten seconds of holding his gaze. Which meant there was no reason to kill him either.

"You. You're not even asking who I am. Can I go first?"

That he could be this undisturbed with a thigh run through—remarkable. No hostility, no killing intent—but still clearly a suspicious figure.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I have no desire to know who you are, and you have no need to know who I am."

From his face alone, he looked like the kind of noble family's young lord who had been shielded from the world's realities entirely.

The smooth, gleaming skin. The brilliant gemstones set into his clothing. The weapon that looked clearly expensive at a glance. Suspicion hardened into something approaching certainty.

Flora recalled the unknown stranger who had appeared during the standoff with the knights.

...This one.

She'd thought he was dead—that he was still breathing was a relief.

"What were you doing out here?"

"Why are you asking the question I was going to ask?"

Why had she not sensed his approach. A noble family's young lord having trained in swordsmanship from childhood would be plausible enough—that would explain it.

Of course, he showed not the slightest gift for the sword—but that was a judgment based on surface appearance alone.

Hmm. The unease lingered. Flora examined the man slowly, her gaze penetrating with layer upon layer of suspicion.

"I came hunting. Then I saw you being chased by attackers. I thought you were a woman in danger—I was completely wrong about that."

No one had come to hunt this far out in the several months she'd sheltered here, but there certainly were many wild animals in the area—not an explanation she couldn't hear. What troubled her was less the truth of it than something else.

"...You were trying to save me?"

"Yes."

The man tossed the arrow in front of Flora and pulled the short blade out of his own thigh. A brief cry escaped him.

"That hurts like hell. Hey—this is how you repay someone?"

The man glared—but Flora felt no remorse. She did, in truth, feel a little—but she didn't show it.

"That was a pointless thing to do. If you value that one life of yours, put away that kind of meddlesome habit going forward."

Something immature and spring-warm scratched at her insides.

"I'll take it as a thank you."

Even at Flora's prickly words, the man didn't blink.

"But in all seriousness—what are all these?"

The man jutted his chin toward the bodies—arrows through throats, hearts, foreheads. His face was calm in a way that suggested he had seen many dead before.

"I have no intention of answering that."

"Then at least tell me who you are. Until you do, I'm not letting you go."

"With what means? Leg injured and all. The audacity."

Flora pulled the corner of her mouth up—something like mockery in it.

"Next time it could be a short blade through your chest. Anyone who knows my identity has to die. You still want to know?"

Even at the threat wrapped in provocation, the man showed no sign of shrinking.

He was bold enough to smile back at Flora's cold, thin smile.