Farewell to the hero! chapter 23

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I stared at him intently, trying to convey my determination.

Perhaps my sincerity reached him, as Sehir, who had been standing still, took a step back as if he could no longer argue with me.

“Alright, let’s go together.”

“Okay.”

“But I’ll be the one gathering the firewood.”

“Huh?”

“You just take a walk nearby.”

“…”

I stopped myself from smiling at his permission.

I had offered to help him, yet now he was telling me to take a walk.

It was the opposite of my original intention.

Oh well, I could just help when he wasn’t looking.

After coming to that conclusion, I released my grip on his sleeve.

“Alright.”

Before following Sehir, I glanced in Kaindel’s direction.

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him where I was going.

But I quickly dismissed the thought. I wouldn’t be gone long, so there was no need to report it.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

Just as I was about to turn my head forward, I had the strange feeling I had locked eyes with a pair of vivid green ones.

But when I looked again, it was just Kaindel chatting with Daniel.

Maybe I imagined it.

I shook my head at Sehir, who was looking at me curiously, and hurried to follow him.

“Let’s meet back here before it gets dark.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t wander off.”

“Okay.”

I smiled at Sehir’s playful advice and turned left.

We had decided to split up for a while.

“Hah.”

I took a deep breath, and the crisp air filled my lungs.

The forest, deep in late autumn, was a rich landscape.

With every step, the dry leaves beneath my feet crunched loudly.

As I absentmindedly collected firewood, my arms became full before I knew it.

Yet I kept gathering more, and soon, my arms grew tired from the weight.

“Maybe I should stop here.”

I glanced at the now-dark sky and stood up.

It felt nice to be occupied with something after so long. I didn’t even have time for idle thoughts.

I wanted to go further into the forest, but I knew I’d lose my way if I did.

Time to head back.

Just as I decided to turn around, I heard an irritated voice from somewhere.

“Why did she follow so recklessly?”

The voice was unclear, as if muttered under their breath, but it was familiar.

Instinctively, I checked who it was and saw Ruen pacing nearby.

I paused when I noticed the red fruit in his hand.

That fruit…

Its unsettling shape triggered a memory.

I recalled something I’d overheard from the customers at the dining hall: ‘On the path to disaster, never eat the red fruit that looks like raspberries.’

While it might not be the same fruit, something about it didn’t feel right.

The fruit Ruen held resembled a raspberry but wasn’t quite the same.

Its surface was smooth, unlike the bumpy texture of a raspberry, yet she was about to put it in his mouth.

From what I knew, eating that fruit would kill a grown adult in no more than ten minutes.

Sometimes, in mere seconds.

It’s a parasitic plant that takes root in the heart, using blood to bloom a flower.

Perhaps there were variables I wasn’t aware of.

Despite my racing thoughts, my voice wouldn’t come out.

I hesitated, remembering how Ruen doubted any information I shared.

If I was wrong and upset him, our already strained relationship would only worsen.

My hesitation lasted until she brought the fruit close to his lips.

“Don’t eat it!”

“What?”

Ruen’s annoyed gaze shot toward me at my timid outburst.

But his expression softened once she recognized me.

“Stop bothering me and mind your own business. Looks like you’re just gathering firewood, anyway.”

“That fruit is dangerous, Ruen. You can’t eat it.”

“Whether I eat it or not is my decision. Stop being annoying and go. I’ll be back soon enough.”

“You really can’t!”

As he ignored my warning, my anxiety grew. I let the firewood I had been holding drop and grabbed his wrist.

Ruen, irritated by my persistence, furrowed his brow and sighed, brushing his fingers against his ears as if my words were grating.

“Fine, tell me why. Why are you so worked up over this?”

“I heard a story about that fruit from some customers. It blooms a flower by feeding on your blood—”

“Here we go again.”

Before I could finish, Ruen cut me off.

“And you think that’s reliable information? Something you just overheard?”

“…”

“I don’t get it. How can secondhand information like that hold any value?”

Her cold response was exactly what I had expected.

Ruen treated the information I provided with the same attitude as before.

He saw it as hearsay, an untrustworthy piece of information with no credible source, not worth believing.

I stared at the fallen branches on the ground and clenched my fist.

A few days ago, I would have felt small in front of Ruen, who didn’t even pretend to listen to me.

But after my conversation with Kaindel this morning, a faint certainty settled within me.

It wasn’t based on my own anxiety but on a conviction that the information I held had inherent value.

So instead of feeling a drop in confidence at Ruen’s reaction, I was overwhelmed by a sense of injustice.

“If you’ve heard me, just go back quietly. It’s not like…”

“I still think you should be cautious.”

“…”

“And what if the information I have is correct? What will you do then?”

When I asked defiantly, Ruen’s expression changed.

He looked as if he’d been suddenly struck, or as though he’d lost his words due to an unexpected emotional shift.

“Well, then I’ll have to apologize, won’t I, Isa?”

Facing Ruen, who clearly displayed his irritation, I continued.

“If I’m right, you’ll apologize.”

“What?”

“If this fruit is truly the parasitic flower I mentioned—the one that takes root in the heart and uses blood to bloom—then I want an apology for all the times you spoke to me so carelessly. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize instead.”

“…”

“I’ll apologize for boasting about second-hand information. But if the fruit blooms as I said, then you have to apologize, Ruen.”

Of course, it was only right to apologize if my information was wrong.

But if, by any chance, I was right, I wanted Ruen to apologize.

Even though I might be seen as a burden, needing Kaindel’s protection, if my information had value, then I wasn’t entirely useless.

Ruen snorted as if weighing my demand, then slightly raised his eyebrows.

“Fine.”

I expected him to angrily refuse, asking why he should agree to such a pointless bet, but surprisingly, he agreed.

“Give it to me.”

“Here.”

I rolled the fruit Ruen handed me in my palm.

It looked like it would be soft, but it was actually hard.

I rubbed the fruit with my thumb and looked around.

To see if the fruit would truly bloom by draining a living being’s blood, I needed a test subject, though I couldn’t use a living creature.

I planned to substitute something dead instead.

While looking around, hoping to find something, I noticed a bird slung over Ruen’s shoulder.

Both its eyes were tightly closed—it was definitely dead.

“How long ago did this bird die?”

“I just killed it. Probably less than ten minutes ago.”

“Then can I borrow it for a bit?”

“What are you going to do with a dead bird?”

“I’m going to prove I’m right.”

“Hah.”

Despite his mocking laugh, Ruen handed over the bird gently.

I placed the bird on the ground and laid two fingers on its small, pulseless body.

“I’m sorry.”

Quietly, I muttered an apology as I finished preparing for the experiment.

I hoped the bird, which had become a test subject even in death, would find peace.

After a brief moment of mourning, I placed the fruit between the bird’s parted beak.

A fleeting doubt arose: would the fruit still take root inside a bird whose heart had already stopped?

But the thought quickly disappeared.

Within seconds of feeding the fruit to the bird, a blood-red flower emerged, soaked in crimson.

The flower, which bloomed vibrantly in the middle of spring, was strikingly beautiful, but it emitted no fragrance.

Only the pungent stench of blood filled the air.

It was blood!

Filled with joy at the sight of the blooming flower, I turned to Ruen.

“See that?”

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