LS Chapter 1 (part 4)

“It’s not necessarily dangerous to use the plant in cooking, but…” Yujin trailed off.

“But what?” Bart’s question came sharply, startling Yujin. His face paled as if he were about to collapse.

“Riazai flowers become toxic once they bloom. It won’t necessarily kill someone, but it can cause severe stomach pain—bad enough that people can’t stand straight. If someone’s already sick or naturally frail… they could die,” Yujin explained, his voice trembling. The moment he finished, he bowed his head, looking as though he’d committed a grave offense. His hands clasped together tightly, his nails digging into his palms.

“Toxic?” Bart’s voice remained steady.

“Yes. It’s not a particularly strong toxin, but it’s still poison.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m not lying.” Yujin lifted his head slightly, his eyes meeting Bart’s with an uncertain, almost pleading look.

“I never said you were lying.”

“Then… you believe me?”

Bart didn’t answer immediately, but the more he acknowledged Yujin’s words, the redder Yujin’s cheeks became. On his pale skin, the faint blush spread like a blooming flower. Bart leaned in a little closer, curious, only for Yujin to flinch and step back.

‘I’ve felt it since the river,’ Bart thought.

‘There’s something about him that keeps pulling my attention.’

“You’re not just telling me this because you want me to trust you, are you?” Bart asked, his voice low.

“Well, that’s part of it, but…”

“Where did you hear this?”

“I didn’t hear it from anyone.”

“Then?”

“I just… know.”

Bart frowned slightly at Yujin’s vague answer. He didn’t seem to be making things up—his anxiety and hesitation were too genuine. But trusting someone who suddenly brought up poison wasn’t easy either.

“I just thought… since you saved me, it’s the least I could do to repay you. I had no other intentions,” Yujin murmured.

Bart’s eyes lingered on a faint mark near Yujin’s neck—a remnant of Bart’s earlier grip. His pale skin bruised easily, leaving faint impressions even from the lightest touch.

“You tried to die, and now you’re repaying me for saving you?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Bart stepped closer, his gaze still fixed on the delicate curve of Yujin’s neck. His slender form and trembling eyes from earlier stuck in Bart’s mind, for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

“Fine. I get it. You can go now,” Bart said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Yujin hesitated before finally stepping away. But just as Bart thought he was leaving, Yujin suddenly turned back, ran toward him, and grabbed his wrist. His trembling voice was even shakier than before.

“Bart, please. Just don’t eat it.”

“…”

“I know you don’t believe me, but… no, please, believe me. Riazai flowers are poisonous.”

“You said it just causes stomach pain.”

“It does, but…”

“But what?”

Yujin’s lips, already swollen from his habit of biting them, were gnawed further as he struggled to find the words. Bart’s eyes lingered on them, and for a fleeting moment, he thought that even if those lips bled, the vivid red would complement Yujin’s pale skin beautifully.

“Stomach pain is just what people say,” Yujin stammered.

“What I’ve learned—or what I know—is that it’s simply a poisonous plant. The severity of the symptoms depends on how much is consumed, but poison is still poison. Please, don’t eat anything.”

Yujin’s hand, which gripped Bart’s wrist, trembled violently. Bart could feel it through his own skin, unsure whether Yujin was afraid of him as a warrior or terrified at the thought of Bart being poisoned.

Watching Yujin’s quivering lips part slightly, his tongue moving nervously between them, Bart felt a sudden impulse he didn’t fully understand. His hand rose almost of its own accord and closed around Yujin’s slender neck.

“B-Bart?” Yujin stammered.

“You…”

Bart tightened his grip slightly around Yujin’s slender neck, tilting his chin upward with a single thumb. Yujin’s head moved effortlessly, offering no resistance. Beneath the pale stretch of his throat, faint blue veins became visible, their fragility stark against his translucent skin.

Bart’s brow twitched as his eyes traced the delicate lines.

‘How pale must someone be for their veins to show so clearly?’

With a slight press of his thumb, Bart dragged it down the faint line of Yujin’s neck, tracing the fragile vein. Yujin clutched Bart’s wrist with trembling hands, his voice breaking into a soft plea.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. Please believe me—I just didn’t want you to get sick from the poison.”

“…”

Every time Yujin mentioned “poison” or “toxic plant,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes darted anxiously. He seemed terrified of being overheard. Bart found the display strangely pitiful, but his gaze lingered solely on Yujin’s unsteady eyes.

‘He’s worried about me? Someone he doesn’t even know?’

“It’s hard to believe, but… please trust me.”

Bart stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

“Just don’t eat or drink anything. Please,” Yujin urged.

His words carried a weight of sincerity, making it difficult to dismiss him outright.

“If the people here know how to use Riazai flowers safely, maybe it’s fine, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know of any safe way to use them,” Yujin admitted, his voice cracking slightly.

Bart could feel the rapid pulse in Yujin’s neck beneath his palm. The faint thrum of his heartbeat, so close and vulnerable, felt strangely tangible. The sensation crept up Bart’s arm, his face unconsciously leaning closer to Yujin’s.

“Bart! We’re about to start!”

Miron’s shout from behind jolted Bart back to the moment. He blinked, his gaze breaking from Yujin’s wide, frightened eyes. Slowly, Bart released his grip, his hand falling away from Yujin’s neck.

Freed, Yujin rubbed his neck, casting a nervous glance at Bart before stepping back cautiously. He hesitated as though he wanted to say more but ultimately retreated. Bart watched in silence as Yujin disappeared into the shadows. Only when he was gone did Bart turn toward Miron and Tuga, who waited nearby.

“What were you talking about for so long?” Miron asked, glancing in the direction Yujin had gone.

Bart checked the sword at his hip before responding in a calm, detached tone. “Don’t eat or drink anything they serve. Keep your weapons ready.”

“Why? Did he tell you something?”

“It’s nothing. Just do as I said.”

“Got it. I’ll let the others know,” Miron replied, but Bart added, “Only half.”

“Half?”

“If everyone refuses the food, it’ll look suspicious. Pick those skilled in close combat and have them avoid eating. The rest should act naturally and sit near the village leader. It’ll keep up appearances.”

“Understood,” Miron nodded.

As Miron left to relay the orders, Bart flexed his fingers. The lingering sensation of Yujin’s delicate neck still clung to his palm. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few more times, then glanced once more in the direction Yujin had gone before walking into the feast.

 

The village leader of Riazai Hamlet had prepared an extravagant banquet, as promised. Drinks flowed freely, women sat beside the warriors, and the leader flattered Namta with effusive words about meeting the Mounted Tribe’s next leader. Yet, despite his cheerful demeanor, the village leader kept glancing nervously toward the entrance.

Bart noticed the odd behavior immediately. Pretending to drink, he quietly scanned the room.

The banquet proceeded smoothly, but as time passed, the village leader grew more restless. Though he laughed and praised the warriors, his tension and excitement were palpable. Finally, with exaggerated enthusiasm, he stood and addressed the room.

“Today, we’ve prepared something truly special for the great warriors of the Mounted Tribe and Namta himself. A roasted boar! Please, enjoy—it’s a rare delicacy!”

Several men entered the hall, carrying a massive roasted boar adorned with yellow flowers. It was beautifully prepared, every detail painstakingly arranged to impress. The boar was placed in the center, and the women eagerly carved the meat to serve the warriors.

While most of the hall erupted into cheers and feasting, Bart, Miron, and the others who had abstained sat quietly, observing. Tuga’s eyes, however, lingered on the roasted boar. He shifted uncomfortably, licking his lips as his restraint wavered.

Suddenly, the village leader stood again, his voice ringing out sharply.

“Now that everyone has tasted our hospitality, I have something to say.”

The leader’s jovial tone vanished, replaced by one cold and biting.

“For years, Riazai Hamlet has provided the Mounted Tribe with fine daggers. And yet, you’ve never considered how much this demand bleeds our village dry!”

Namta, who had been lounging and eating without a care, snapped his head toward the leader at the mention of the word ‘dagger’. The warriors around him began to stir.

“We told you we couldn’t meet your demands. We begged you to reduce the number or accept other goods instead, but your beast of a leader refused!” the village leader spat.

Namta rose from his seat, anger flashing in his eyes, but before he could speak, his expression twisted in agony. Clutching his stomach, he collapsed back into his chair.

“You… you dared…” Namta gasped, his voice faltering as pain overtook him.

The village leader sneered. “Your leader was too arrogant to come himself and sent his whelp instead. Fitting, I suppose. A leader without a son wouldn’t last long anyway.”

As more warriors began to groan and clutch their stomachs, Bart stood slowly, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. His calm, deliberate movements drew the attention of the villagers.

At the same time, the men who had served the boar pulled daggers from their belts, their blades glinting in the firelight.

Bart’s gaze locked onto the handles of their weapons, spotting a distinctive wave-like design.

“The Azure Sky Tribe,” Bart murmured, his voice laced with derision.

Before he could say more, the villagers—now revealed as Azure Sky warriors—lunged, their blades cutting through the air.

Days later, Yujin trudged along, pulling a cart loaded with spoils from the battle—daggers, valuables, and anything else of worth. Namta, still writhing from stomach pain, lay atop the cart, cursing and pounding the wooden crates beneath him.

“Useless trash! How dare they try to kill me!” Namta shouted, kicking the air in frustration.

Dangling from his wrist was a small pouch filled with Riazai flower petals. He had insisted on taking them to the tribe’s healers to create an antidote, despite his ongoing agony.

“Keep moving, you lazy wretch!” Namta barked, slamming his fist on the crates.

The cart jolted as Namta stomped, causing it to wobble dangerously. Yujin, already struggling, nearly stumbled, only to have another commoner rush to steady the cart. They all knew better than to let it tip over.

Bart walked ahead of the group, his broad back a silent presence. Yujin glanced at him, the memories of that night replaying in his mind.

It wasn’t something he wanted to remember. The sound of blades slicing flesh, the sickening crunch of bones, and the stench of blood—all of it was burned into his memory.

The village of Riazai, like his own long ago, was no more.