Chapter 66
“Thump, Thump”
After dropping Aaron off at the medical unit, I stayed by his side for a while before leaving the barracks.
Then, I walked around the base alone.
‘This feels strange…’
Of course, thanks to Roitz’s strategy, securing safe zones meant there were far fewer injuries. But they weren’t gone completely.
‘At least it’s not a major wound.’
Still, the cut was deep, and since he’d also been bitten by a small monster, suspected poison had entered the wound. They said it would take a few days to treat.
Seeing Aaron hurt reminded me of a few years ago—
That day during strength training camp, when I was partnered with Raicher, and a monster poked his eye.
‘That day was really tough.’
Sometimes, there are events that divide your life into “before” and “after,” making it impossible to go back to how it was.
That day in the forest with Raicher’s injury was one of those moments for me.
Maybe this time in Edikal Forest would be the same.
‘Was it like that for Roitz too, when he graduated and went on the monster expedition?’
He was there for two whole years.
As I walked through the base, I waited for Roitz to return. After a while, Lizzie and the others came back.
I also saw Enia walking from a distance. I ran over to her.
“Senior! Where’s the Captain?”
“He said he’s finishing setting up Mabyeoksu in that area.”
“Alone?”
I immediately turned to run in that direction, but Enia grabbed my shoulder and turned me back toward the inside of the base.
“Don’t. Eat first, Serdin.”
“Huh? I’m fine without eating.”
“No. I was given strict orders to make you eat first.”
“Who gave such an order?”
“Someone very, very worried about you.”
Enia dragged me to the cafeteria. Only after I finished the entire bowl was I allowed to leave.
“Okay, I’m done now, right?”
She let me go, and as I ran outside, Roitz was just returning.
“Senior, Captain! Captain!”
I ran up right next to his horse, waiting for him to get down.
“What’s wrong, Serdin? Is something the matter?”
He got down with a serious face—probably because I’d run over so urgently.
“No. Nothing.”
“You’ve eaten?”
“Yes. Very well. I’m walking to digest it.”
Afraid he might leave if I stopped talking, I kept chatting while walking around the base with him.
Then I realized—Roitz hadn’t eaten yet. And he had been busy for days. Was I taking up his time?
Just as I was thinking of letting him go, his pace slowed.
“It’s fine. I was going to walk anyway.”
He smiled at me as if reading my mind.
“You’re not hungry?”
“No.”
Well, I decided to believe him. Roitz was strong—he’d be fine even on an empty stomach.
“Yes, sir.”
Walking beside him, I asked about his two years in the north.
He had mentioned it before, but always briefly—and two years was too long to explain in a few words.
“In the mornings, I went straight into the forest. Hunted monsters, came back, made plans… and before I knew it, it was night.”
He told me plainly what life was like back then.
“Why did you go on that expedition?”
In the original story, he never went north—meaning it wasn’t one of those standard events for the male lead.
So why had he gone?
As we walked, I looked up at him. He kept his eyes ahead, walking slowly.
“Back then… being in the capital just felt too heavy.”
What was so heavy? The expectations of others? But he didn’t seem like someone who cared about that.
“Do you feel that way now?”
“Now…”
He looked at me.
“I think it would’ve been better if I hadn’t done that back then.”
“But that’s only how I feel now. Back then, I couldn’t even think like this.”
His tone was calm, but I could hear how hard that time had been.
‘And I never knew at all.’
Everyone has troubles, and the fact that he had darkened so much in the original meant he could be vulnerable to hardship.
But in Yudeln, the Roitz I knew had always seemed confident, strong, and unshakable.
Without realizing it, I had believed that was all there was to him.
I stared at him and asked,
“You never wanted to come back to the capital?”
“I did.”
“Then how did you endure it? Give me a tip.”
Roitz stopped walking, so I stopped too.
He looked at me silently.
“….”
He didn’t answer right away, so I waited.
I kept my gaze on him, trying to read what was behind his eyes before he spoke.
‘Just like last time… really like the night sky.’
“Back then, I just…”
He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Only then did I realize my hand had reached out toward his eyes.
It stopped just before touching the corner of his eye.
“Serdin?”
“Yes?”
His gaze stayed on my hand.
The quiet forest was filled only with the sounds of birds, wind, and the crackle of firewood in the distance.
“Oh—sorry.”
I started to pull my hand back, but Roitz caught it.
He pulled me closer.
“It’s okay.”
“Huh?”
My fingertips touched the warm skin beside his eye.
“It’s okay to touch.”
His low voice made me freeze.
Thump, thump.
‘What… is that me?’
Thump, thump…
Then I saw a horse galloping from afar—the sound of hooves echoing closer.
While glancing away, my fingertips brushed even closer to his eye.
There was a faint tremor—whether from his eye or his hand holding mine, I couldn’t tell.
One thing was certain:
‘Warm…’
His hand was as warm as a heater. The warmth pushed away the chill of the night air, and my stray thoughts melted away.
When he opened his eyes slowly, I wondered what he was thinking now, just as I had wondered what he had thought two years ago.
Honestly, life in the forest was bleak, stifling, even scary sometimes—especially when I saw people heading to the medical unit.
But when he looked at me like this, those thoughts faded.
‘Does Roitz ever feel that way about me?’
Would he think I helped, even in some small way, when things were hard?
Maybe it was the warmth, but my thoughts felt soft—like roasted marshmallows.
Then his eyes opened again, and he let go of my hand.
“Senior.”
But I quickly caught his hand again.
His once-warm hand felt a little cooler now.
“Serdin?”
Looking a little surprised, he let me pull him closer.
With determined eyes, I brought his hand to my mouth.
“…Serdin?”
Then I blew on it.
“Hoo!”
“…What?”
“Is it warm now?”
Of course, I wasn’t someone with naturally warm hands like him, so holding them wouldn’t heat them.
But I could still give him something else—like this.
“Well? Hoo—warm, right?”
“More than warm—it’s hot.”
He answered with a voice that held back a laugh.
“Really? Hoo—good.”
“Good, huh?”
There was a faint joy in his tone.
I kept blowing on his hand, but I looked up at him.
‘At least physically, it seems to help.’
But I wanted to be of more real help—especially in the moments that were hardest to endure.
“Do you have those moments when it’s hard to endure too?”
“Of course.”
That answer surprised me a little. I didn’t expect him to say “of course.”
“Then how do you endure them?”
Roitz just looked at me in silence.
