Fuck. I hate getting stuck in the middle of other people’s shit.

But watching Ren keep missing each other with Temar, Luman couldn’t laugh it off anymore.

Why?

...No need to think too hard about that.

By some bizarre miracle, his Hero’s body had cleaned itself back up, but the places where his arms and legs had been severed still felt horrific. The pain, like being seared alive, still lingered in his body.

Luman closed his eyes to erase the memory.

Pain like this—

he could take as much of it as needed.

Wasn’t Luman a Hero too, one who had crossed battlefields?

Wasn’t he the king’s proud third star?

At last the long day came to an end, and everyone who had made it through that brutal night went to bed.

The castle lights that had lit the night like the North Star went out one by one. The black weight of night settled down, making a silence gentle enough for those who had lived through a nightmare of a day to finally sleep.

But it was a night when many still could not sleep, even inside that silence.

Temar stayed by Ren’s side the entire time he slept. Ren wandered through dreams all night. Luman went on erasing memories he had no wish to revisit. After erasing them one by one, the only face left in Luman’s memory was Ren’s. The only memory that didn’t hurt him was...

As he pictured that boy with the bright blond hair, Luman fell sick with it only afterward.

Ren had a long dream.

It was a dream of the days he had been born and raised in the village, sent his brother off as a Hero, and lived alone.

***

Ughhh.

My whole body hurts like I got beaten half to death. It hurts so bad.

Blegh. What the hell is this bitter medicine? It tastes even worse than the old apothecary’s stuff. Ptooey, ptooey.

"$$#&*##"

What are you even saying? God, you’re loud as hell. Can’t I just sleep? Why does nobody here have any manners?!

I said I don’t want it, but they keep shoving stuff into my mouth. Ptooey! Even if I spit it out, the spoon comes right back. Urrgh. Are you only going to stop once I throw up? The second I smacked a hand away, I heard a bowl shatter.

Huh?

God, I said I don’t want it!

Ughhh. They still forced something down my throat in the end. Bitter. So bitter!

I felt awful from being forced to swallow it, but after I did, my body felt... a little better. My fuzzy head was starting to clear too.

Wait. What am I doing right now?

"Ghk!"

"Ren!"

I snapped my eyes open!

"Wow! I’m so glad you’re awake! Do you have any idea how hard this Kirky worked?!"

"Do you seriously want credit from a patient?"

"What? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re going back to sleep?"

It was so bright I squeezed my eyes shut again at first, then opened them back up because everyone was making such a racket.

What the hell, why are so many people gathered around me? Creepy!

I didn’t even know how many people were staring down at me.

Brother Temar, Luman, Coco, Priest Kirky, and several maids were gathered all around me. What are you all doing?! This is a lot, okay?!

"..."

"You gave everyone a scare. How long are you planning to sleep?"

Luman said it flatly, like he was just tossing it out there.

"I slept that long??"

"Haah. You really burned everyone up with worry."

He helped me sit up.

Ugh. I really must’ve been lying down forever, because my body felt stiff as hell. When Luman tucked a pillow behind my back, I finally felt like I could live again.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Four days..."

It was Coco who answered. Her eyes were red.

What the hell! Don’t tell me that’s because of me?!

Don’t do that. It makes me feel sorry and grossed out.

I slowly turned my gaze away.

"Ah...!"

"What is it?"

I looked back and forth between Brother Temar and Luman.

"...The schedule. It got delayed because of me, didn’t it."

"Yeah. At this point, we really do have to hurry."

Luman said it while poking my cheek.

Why are you poking someone else’s cheek?! I felt too guilty to smack his hand away, so I just twisted up my face and glared at him instead.

Luman snickered.

"Brother. I’m sorry."

"As long as you woke up, that’s enough."

And then he patted my head!

"When are you leaving?"

"..."

"For now, rest. We can’t leave right away anyway."

My ass practically lifted off the bed because I wanted to grab onto him.

No, I know it can’t be helped if they leave me behind! Actually, I know it’d probably be better if they did. But even if I know that, still—don’t just slip away without me knowing, okay?

Maybe Luman noticed how anxious I was, because he kept repeating that they’d be right back soon. They were only going outside the room, but I still started feeling kind of miserable.

***

Seriously. It’d be nice if someone looked at me like that.

Without even realizing what he was thinking, Luman leaned back against the hallway wall.

What was blind love, anyway?

Luman had never believed in love to begin with, but seeing Ren left him feeling strange. Maybe it was that looking at him made Luman want to know what this thing called love was, the thing he had already decided the answer to long ago.

"Temar."

It was Luman’s usual tone—heavier than normal, yet somehow light at the same time.

"What."

"You go on ahead. I’ll stay here."

Luman said it without hesitation, as if he had already made up his mind long ago.

"What?"

"The king is waiting, so you should get there as fast as possible, right? So go first. In Ren’s condition, even leaving tomorrow looks like it’d be too much. Wouldn’t it put your mind at ease if one of us stayed here? So I’ll—"

The words spilled out of Luman one after another. While Ren had lain there without waking, the thought had circled his head the whole time, so once he started speaking, it all came easily.

Temar replayed Luman’s words in his head.

Had he heard him right?

This was a man who always put himself and his own benefit first—saying he would stay behind for someone else, give his time up for free, with nothing in return? A flash lit in Temar’s eyes.

"No."

"What?"

Those expressionless eyes swept over Luman’s face. Temar cut him off, then drove the point in again.

"There’s no need for that."

"What are you being stubborn for? You’re seriously planning to take Ren with you?"

"..."

Luman frowned and shoved a hand back through his hair, openly frustrated.

Temar knew it too. There was no way taking Ren in his current state was realistic.

Priest Kirky and the physician had both said Ren had fallen into that deep sleep from mental shock. Temar had to know it would be better to let him rest.

"So why are you being stubborn?"

Irritation was starting to creep into Luman’s voice. Temar’s mouth, shut hard all this time, finally opened.

"Ren is my little brother."

"What?"

Who the hell doesn’t know that?

Luman was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even answer.

"It means I know my little brother better than anyone."

That was one of the very few things Temar could say with absolute confidence.

"So you’re really going to drag him along no matter what?"

"Because Ren would rather be with me."

Maybe his only certainty.

Emphasizing with, Temar glared at Luman like he was some mortal enemy.

"Yeah, no shit. That’s not the point. For the sake of the mission—"

Temar flinched.

The mission given by the king. He was already long, long past the deadline. Even if he ran there now, there still wouldn’t be enough time. For Temar, Hero whose highest priority was always the king’s command, the king’s seventh star, the Hero of infinite glory, the correct thing would be to return to his master immediately.

But Temar...

Inside that chest hard as stone, he felt fire rise.

For the sake of the mission, he should do that—but this time, he couldn’t.

Temar’s eyes flashed like a beast’s. A violent aura thick with killing intent rolled off his body. It pressed toward Luman, like it meant to choke the breath out of him.

"Luman. Why don’t you leave."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It was a warning.

Luman froze at the reaction he had never expected.

"What...?"

"Your mission is over, isn’t it? With delivering that letter to me."

"..."

That was true.

Luman’s mission was already over.

Nothing was binding him anymore. Not the country. Not the crushing responsibility attached to the name Hero. Nothing. He could spend the rest of his life comfortably as a man who had once been a great Hero—still draped in the afterglow of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) that title. The freedom he had wanted so badly was right in front of him.

Luman remembered going down into that village buried in the mountain valley to deliver the letter to Temar.

That had been when weariness had settled over everything, when the name Hero had become so sickening and disgusting he could barely stand it.

It made bile rise in his throat. It made him want to vomit. Every time he heard words like Hero, duty, salvation, his whole body broke out in hives. There were times he had looked at the face of some decent commoner and wanted to punch it in. It had been time to quit. Time to throw off the duty that tangled up his whole life, the responsibility that had pressed down on all of it—the life of a war hero where a person got trampled flat under the name Hero.

"Haah..."

Luman blinked slowly. Temar’s murderous aura squeezing at his breath wasn’t fully sincere, so all it did was sting his skin. His flesh had flushed red, but if Luman drew on his power, it would vanish like it had never been there.

How had things gone so far off course?

Luman had never intended to travel with them this long in the first place. He had only planned to cross the cliffside with Temar, then split off in a decent town. He was supposed to go on a formal introduction. He had planned to flirt with some childish noble girl who wanted "freedom and love," humor both her and her money, and spend the rest of his life living comfortably off her wealth.

How easy. How happy.

There would be no war there, no blood, no Heroes. Only some foolish lover. And if they kept sleeping together, eventually they’d have a child too, and somehow or other he’d go on living wrapped in the name of love.

That was Luman’s goal.

He had survived the war instead of being extinguished in it, and he had sworn that he would spend at least twice as long living in comfort as he had spent enduring that battlefield life. That resolve was Luman’s hope. The wish that had kept him on his feet in front of his comrades’ deaths. For that, he had chased profit and hoarded gold coins. It was money to keep up appearances—wedding money.

"Right."

It felt absurd that he could have forgotten the goal right in front of him.

How had he forgotten something this important?