Chapter 14

Mariax turned her gaze to the darkened window. The mountains were hidden by snow clouds. The master of Heimdrix was buried somewhere in that darkness. The inky black windowpane stirred her imagination. She envisioned the man suddenly awakening and calling out, “Mariax.”

But the master of Heimdrix had been asleep for over a hundred years, showing no sign of waking. Even though she had spent the night and welcomed the morning in a foreign land, nothing had happened. Still, that fact alone could not quell her unease. Since it was her first time leaving Heimdrix, she couldn’t be sure of anything. Mariax knew well that the worst could strike without warning.

“…This is surprising.”

The voice of Gart, who had been silently listening until now, sounded low and deep. Mariax flinched slightly at the sound.

“You act like you have the right to refuse just because we asked nicely.”

His sarcastic, icy words cut across Mariax. Goosebumps spread across the back of her neck.

“Mariax.”

Despite the gentleness of his tone, his gaze was colder than the blade-like wind outside.

“What do you think would happen if you said no?”

Mariax recalled the violent force the man had unleashed—his crushing pressure. Just as Gart said, the answer had already been decided.

Gart stood up and walked around the bed toward Mariax. Her eyelids trembled slightly.

“Still, you’re a precious guest. I should at least let you keep your pride. You don’t have to answer. So…” Gart stepped right up to Mariax, casting a deep shadow over her. His eyes narrowed as he smiled. “Just nod.”

At that moment, an invisible force erupted from Gart, pouring down upon her. The overwhelming pressure stole Mariax’s breath. Without even the chance to think of resistance, she collapsed forward under the crushing weight.

As soon as she lowered her head, the storm-like pressure in the room vanished. The force that had seemed sharp enough to rip her body and soul apart disappeared in an instant. Leaning her forehead against the bed, Mariax gasped for breath.

A rough, large hand lifted her face. Cold sweat clung to her skin as she had to lean into his hand, unable to open her eyes properly.

Gart bent down. Even when facing the man’s close-up face, Mariax could only let out ragged breaths. Gart gave a short laugh and tilted his head. Then, his slightly chapped lips and hot breath gently touched her cheek. A soft smacking sound rang out. Mariax had seen humans do something similar—it was a greeting of welcome.

“Welcome to this fortress, Mariax.”

The seemingly kind words settled in her ears.

***

From outside, the sound of bells rang at regular intervals. Even someone as uninformed as Mariax could sense the urgency and sharpness in the tone.

“Five times?”

“Yes. It’s a major formation. Haven’t seen a nocturnal one in a while… Anyway, you’d best get going.”

“Quite the grand welcome.”

Gart turned and left the room. Three Thousandth followed behind him. Click. The door closed. Mariax, barely supporting her trembling body with her arms, stared at the shut door.

What… is this?

They hadn’t tied her up or told her not to escape. They had simply left. As the strength returned to her body, Mariax stood up. As soon as she pushed the window slightly open, a cold gale rushed in. A fierce snowstorm raged against the backdrop of the dark night. The wind carried a familiar scent from afar—blood.

Mariax’s eyes pierced through the veil of night to accurately visualize the scene outside. People were running about busily. Some were coming out of buildings, others were rushing inside. Large, rough-looking humans wielded weapons just as large and harsh, moving across the street.

Among the crowd, Mariax spotted Gart. She didn’t know how she could so easily pick him out. While speaking with someone, Gart suddenly turned his head. Their eyes met. Despite the great distance, they immediately recognized each other.

Mariax didn’t even consider closing the window or averting her gaze. There was a strange power in the man’s eyes. Whenever his gray irises turned toward her, she felt like prey caught in a trap.

Even amid the snowstorm, Gart didn’t blink as he stared at her. Then he turned away and walked off with the others. Mariax exhaled deeply, a mix of relief, and shut the window.

She moved to the door and approached it. After staring at the doorknob for a while, she pressed her ear to the door. She couldn’t make out the details, but it was clear that the fortress had become chaotic. The bell had rung, and the wind carried the scent of blood. A battle had likely broken out.

She recalled the conversation they had.

Major formation, nocturnal, it’s been a while…

That meant a large, unfamiliar type of enemy. The battle didn’t seem like it would end quickly.

Is this my chance?

Mariax carefully grabbed the doorknob. The chill that touched her fingertips made her think of a man—Gart, the human hero who carried a cold blade in his gaze. Even though he wasn’t in the room, the fear he inspired hadn’t vanished. After a long hesitation, Mariax finally let go of the doorknob and returned to sit on the bed.

Swallowing the saliva that had gathered from tension, she realized how dry her throat had become. Come to think of it, she hadn’t had a drop of water since entering the human village. She touched her chapped lips and looked around.

Gart’s cool-toned room was about the same size as Mariax’s shrine. But unlike her space—which was practical with a food storage, kitchen, prayer room, and supply closet—his room only had a bed, a nightstand, a table, and a sofa. There was no pouch of food or a jar of water in sight.

Her growing thirst only added to her sense of crisis. Before dying by Gart’s hand, she might die of dehydration or starvation.

She couldn’t ask the humans for food or water. It wasn’t about pride. She believed she was kept alive only because of their need. If they discovered her divine body was imperfect, despite thinking she was a perfect god and requesting to study her…

Mariax shuddered. If she was no longer needed, she’d be killed. She had to keep it a secret at all costs.

The longest I’ve ever starved was about thirty days?

She counted on her fingers how many days it had been since she last ate—roughly eight. Since Ulri and Ba’en started delivering offerings, she’d never gone more than three days without food. The sharp, long-absent hunger pains were agonizing. She rubbed her stomach.

I can still endure.

She figured she could last at least another week. If she cooperated with the humans as they wished, they might eventually allow her to roam the fortress. Since it was a human settlement, there had to be food somewhere. If she stole a little at a time, it might go unnoticed. Mariax began plotting her plan step by step.

The bigger problem was water. Having lived in a snow-covered land, she had never lacked it before. So, she didn’t even know how long she could endure thirst. Another issue was that she couldn’t smuggle water in her coat pocket. If only the window had a ledge outside where snow could pile up… But when she had briefly opened it earlier, she hadn’t seen any such spot.

As she looked around, Mariax found a welcome sight. On the table sat a vase—its style not unlike Ulri’s taste. Someone had clearly tried to make the stark room a little brighter. The colorful flowers weren’t real; they were carved and painted wooden sculptures. Still, perhaps to add a sense of life, the vase held water.

Mariax carefully removed the wooden flowers one by one and set them on the table, then took a small sip of the water inside. Moisture poured down her parched throat like sweet rain. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She finally felt a bit alive. It didn’t compare to melted snow water, but it wasn’t undrinkably bad either. Slightly metallic, but tolerable.

She set the vase down and examined it at eye level.

This much should be… okay.

The water level hadn’t changed noticeably. Should she take one more sip? The remaining thirst tempted her, but she managed to resist by recalling the face of the room’s owner. He didn’t seem like someone who would care about flowers or vases, but he was, after all, a hero who had transcended humanity. His senses, thoughts, and memory were surely sharper than she could imagine. It would be better to wait and take another sip tomorrow or the day after.

Casting one last lingering glance at the vase, Mariax began returning the flower sculptures to their place one by one. The arrangement of five flowers and seven leaves looked exactly the same as before. She wiped the slight traces of water left by the flowers on the table with her sleeve. Thinking a faint watermark still remained, she wiped again, harder. Then again, unsatisfied.