TDXXBC Chapter 2 (Part 2)

“Ah, my wrist! It’s going to fall off!”

He pushed the fork closer to her lips, his persistence unwavering. No matter how long she ignored him, he continued his relentless prodding. In the end, Sascha gave in first. She took a bite, and the sweetness stung her tongue. The luxurious flavor felt almost out of place in their humble mountain home.

“One bite isn’t enough,” Aderton declared, already lifting another forkful. This time, he had taken an even larger scoop—enough to completely obscure the fork’s tines.

Sascha sighed. So much for eating just one piece to make him leave.

He wasn’t going anywhere until she finished it.

With the resigned acceptance of a baby bird being fed, she opened her mouth again.

As she chewed mechanically, her eyes wandered to the ceiling. The old wooden planks were rough and weathered, their grain worn by time. A shabby cabin in the mountains, yet here she was, eating an extravagant dessert. The combination was so absurd that she almost laughed.

The momentary amusement flickered across her face, barely lasting a second, but Aderton caught it immediately.

“Oh? You know what they say—if you cry and then laugh, bad luck will follow.”

She scoffed.

“Not even a child would believe that nonsense.”

Even though Sascha’s response was curt, Aderton still grinned as if pleased just to get a reaction out of her. He handed her a cup of tea to wash down the cake, different from the medicinal brew she had drunk earlier. This one was lighter, carrying the scent of flowers with a faint tartness.

“…Thanks.”

The quiet mumble left her lips as she sipped the lukewarm tea. Aderton’s stubbornness often frustrated her, but just this once, she was grateful. The weight of her nightmares usually left her paralyzed, drowning in helplessness. If it weren’t for him, she would have curled up under the blankets for days, unable to climb out of it.

She half-expected him to brush off her gratitude with a polite “It’s nothing” or a meaningless phrase. Instead, he remained silent, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup. After a moment of thought, he finally spoke, his voice unusually soft.

“The reason I studied medicine was because I wanted to heal the people I care about. Humans are fragile.”

Sascha didn’t respond.

“Don’t get hurt,” he added.

Aderton had never spoken much about himself. No matter how persistently she prodded or tried to catch him off guard, he always kept his answers vague, hiding behind an unreadable smile. Yet, for the first time, he was letting her see past that facade. Sascha forgot to swallow her tea, simply staring at him. His black hair fell slightly over his face, obscuring his expression.

The sincerity in his words made her lips curl into a faint smile. “It’s a good thing I’m not alone tonight. Thank you, really.”

Aderton stiffened. His back and shoulders tensed, as if caught off guard by her gentle tone. Instead of responding, he simply swirled his tea, watching the liquid ripple. When he finally spoke, his voice was as casual as ever.

“And what if I’m not a person?”

Sascha blinked at the strange question. Before she could ask what he meant, he continued.

“Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say I’m more of a beast?”

Then, without warning, he kissed her.

The sudden contact made Sascha instinctively pull back, her eyes narrowing in irritation. He had looked so serious a moment ago—so of course, he had to ruin it. She wiped at her lips with her sleeve, as if to erase the lingering warmth.

“You really can’t sit still for even a second, can you?”

Even under the sharp glare she shot him, Aderton merely laughed, resting his head against her shoulder. His weight was warm, familiar, insistent. He was acting like a spoiled child, and after a brief sigh, Sascha reached up and patted his back.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her. His expression was hidden, but she could feel the tension in his grip. Was it restlessness? Anxiety?

They spent the rest of the night exchanging idle chatter, voices barely above a whisper. There were no grand confessions, no deep revelations—just talk of baking scones and the freshness of newly drawn milk. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep.

Aderton woke first, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“…Sascha?”

The space beside him on the bed was empty. He called her name again and looked around the room, but there was no response.

Throwing off the blanket, he got to his feet.

The cabin was silent.

Sascha was gone.

He searched the house, checking the living room, the yard, even the storage shed. But there was no sign of her. Her boots were missing. So were her clothes. And her sword.

Standing alone in the yard, Aderton covered his face with both hands.

“Damn it.”

He had been so deep in sleep that he hadn’t even noticed when she left.

He called out for her, but only silence answered. His hands slowly dropped to his sides as he stared at the empty space before him, his expression sinking into quiet resignation.

* * *

The marketplace was bustling with people. Shoppers moved constantly between stalls, and merchants shouted over one another, eager to draw in customers. Even though it wasn’t a scheduled market day, the streets were lively, filled with traveling vendors who usually only appeared during festivals. Games offering stuffed animals as prizes were set up all around, drawing in crowds.

A young boy stood at the edge of one of these stalls, staring intently at a teddy bear displayed as a prize. He patted his pockets, but they were empty—not a single coin to be found. His lips jutted out in a pout as he watched children his age throwing darts, some accompanied by their parents. His gaze lingered on a particularly young child being held by his father, envy flickering across his face before he slumped to the ground with a sigh.

“Do you want it?”

A gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a woman he had never met before. Her wavy red hair was tied back, yet it still reached down to her back. Her green eyes were warm, like summer leaves rustling in the wind.

She didn’t seem threatening, but the boy instinctively scrambled to his feet and took a step back. Though her voice was soft, she was tall—intimidatingly so. And the scar running across her face only made her seem more formidable. His small steps wavered.

The woman didn’t say anything else, only offering him a kind smile before turning to the stall owner. “I’ll take a bow and some arrows.”

Gasps of awe rippled through the crowd. The moment the woman released each arrow, it struck dead center. The spectators that had stopped to watch murmured in amazement. The stall owner, however, looked like he was about to cry as he glanced between the perfect shots and the first-place prize. The woman could have kept going—could have easily won the entire game with nothing but bullseyes—but instead, she set the bow down.

“This should be enough,” she said.

“Now, give me the bear.”

“Huh?”

“The teddy bear. I hit the required score, didn’t I?”

The stall owner blinked in disbelief. She had that level of skill, yet she had used it just to win a simple stuffed animal? A shame, he thought.

As people began to disperse, disappointed that they wouldn’t see more of her skill, the woman turned and called out to the boy before he could slip away with the crowd. She held up the teddy bear and gently shook it.

“Do you want it?”

His mother had always told him not to talk to strangers. But his gaze remained locked on the stuffed bear, unable to resist. After a moment, he gave a small nod.

“Then I have a favor to ask,” she said.

She bent down and whispered something to him. Slowly, the boy’s wariness faded, replaced by a bright smile. Clutching the teddy bear tightly, he ran off in another direction. The woman watched him scurry away like a little squirrel before finally turning on her heels and walking the opposite way.

“Mom! Sis!”

The boy rushed toward a young woman and a girl who appeared to be a few years older than him.

“Where did you run off to?”

His sister scolded him immediately.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

The boy just grinned. His mother, relieved he wasn’t hurt, finally noticed the unfamiliar item in his hands.

“What’s that?”

“A friend of Dad’s gave it to me!”

At the mention of “Dad,” both the mother and sister stiffened. But the boy remained blissfully unaware, still holding something else behind his back.

“She also told me to give you this. She brought a letter in Dad’s place.”

“A letter?”

His mother snatched the envelope from his hands, her fingers trembling slightly. Inside were two papers—one was a check marked with a noble family’s seal. The other was an unmarked letter.

The moment she read it, she sank to the ground.

“Mom…”

His sister quickly knelt beside her, worry in her eyes.

The woman clutched the letter to her chest, her expression pained. “How long will this go on…”

The letter contained only one sentence.

I’m sorry.

The small countryside station barely saw five trains a day, but today, it was unusually crowded. Among the travelers, some had dyed their hair red or carried replica swords. Others wore thick cloaks despite the warm weather.

Sascha let out a sigh as she stepped off the train, blending into the strangely dressed crowd.

Maybe I should have convinced Aderton to come with me into town.

Since she was already in a different region, Sascha took the opportunity to seek out a reputable physician. However, no matter how much extra money she offered, the doctor refused to make a house call. The borderlands were dangerous, and the possibility that Kalceus had left a curse behind was reason enough to decline.

Lies. She knew the real reason—they simply didn’t want the hassle of traveling so far.

Gripping her travel bag in one hand, Sascha strode through the station. Her schedule had been delayed more than expected. She had left a note behind, but still, leaving a man alone in the mountains wasn’t ideal. What if something had happened while she was gone? With every step, worry followed her.

“Sascha!”

Her name rang out, causing several people at the station to turn. Every person who reacted was a woman, ranging from young adults to middle-aged, but the majority were children around five years old. Sascha scratched her head and picked up her pace.

“Sascha!”

She had definitely heard it right this time. Turning around, she saw Aderton limping toward her.

Surprised, she hurried toward him. The people who had been watching, hoping she would respond to them instead, sighed in disappointment but continued to observe the scene with curiosity. An elderly man with graying hair muttered, Well, I’ll be damned, even angels are abandoning heaven now, before his grandson nudged him in the ribs.

“Aderton? Why aren’t you at the cabin?”

“I woke up, and you were gone… I thought you left me behind.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. You didn’t see the note?”

She had left it right on the nightstand, clearly visible. Yet, he must not have noticed it and had wandered down the mountain, asking around about her whereabouts until he ended up at the station. With his striking height, red hair, and the scar on her face, it wouldn’t have been difficult for the villagers to point him in the right direction.

When he admitted he had been waiting at the station for three days, uncertain where she had gone, Sascha sighed.

“You must be starving. Let’s get something to eat first.”

She supported him and led him to the nearest restaurant.

The moment they stepped inside, the waitress at the entrance suddenly lifted the menu in front of her face, barely concealing her reddening cheeks. “W-Welcome…”

She stole glances at Aderton as she guided them to an empty table. As they moved, the low hum of conversation in the restaurant abruptly died down.

The men, furrowing their brows, suddenly launched into a loud discussion about masculinity and what it truly meant to be a man. Meanwhile, the women exchanged knowing smiles, sharing unspoken thoughts through their eyes. Some simply stared, oblivious to their own rudeness, unable to take their eyes off Aderton.

Even after they sat down, the side glances and whispered murmurs continued.

Sascha had thought it was just her, but clearly, she wasn’t the only one who found him good-looking.

The same thing had happened at the station, and now at the restaurant, countless eyes were locked on him. Some were subtle, while others made no effort to hide their admiration. Even in the capital, someone like him would have been a rarity.

Sascha found herself watching him as well.

Even as he performed the simple act of pouring water, every movement was smooth, almost elegant. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed made her unconsciously gulp as well. He didn’t seem to care about the attention he was getting from others, but when he noticed Sascha staring, he gave her a slow, knowing smile.

“Do you like my face?”

“Ah, the food’s here. Eat.”

She dodged the question effortlessly. Aderton didn’t press the matter, but the smirk on his lips remained, as if he already knew the answer.

Sascha kept her gaze turned outside, watching the people passing by. Their table was near the entrance, giving her a clear view of the street. Families, friends, and couples walked together in groups. Just like at the station, there were plenty of people with red hair—some had clearly used cheap, temporary dye, as the color bled in streaks, but no one seemed to mind.

Aderton, watching the passing crowd, muttered,

“There are so many people lately.”

“It’s a festival.”

“A festival?”

“Yeah. Today marks the day the evil dragon was defeated. Around this time, everyone’s in a celebratory mood.”

“Ah… the evil dragon…”

Aderton drawled, idly stirring his soup. The ingredients had softened from long hours of simmering, breaking apart with each slow swirl of his spoon. He repeatedly lifted a spoonful only to put it down again before finally speaking.

“Now that I think about it, the warrior who fought the dragon to the very end was also named Sascha, wasn’t she?”

“There wasn’t just one warrior who fought that battle.”

“But the one who returned with its severed head—wasn’t that just Sascha?” He let the name linger before continuing, “She became so famous that parents started naming their daughters after her. Most girls born after the war carry that name now.”

Sascha chuckled. “Yeah. It was already a common name, but now it’s everywhere. You saw it yourself at the station earlier, didn’t you?”

“Hah. When someone called out ‘Sascha,’ at least a hundred heads turned.”

“Not that many.”

He was exaggerating again. Sascha shook her head at his shamelessness, but his playful banter made her laugh.

“Every alley is filled with redheads. They say the warrior had red hair too… What was she called again? ‘Crimson Radiance Sascha’ or ‘Red Lion Sascha’?”

Aderton listed off the titles without hesitation. The first had come from the streaks of red that followed her blade whenever she swung it, while the second was a nod to the way her scarlet hair flowed from beneath her helmet, earning her comparisons to a lion—majestic and fierce.

“Come to think of it, there’s no news about what happened to the warrior after all that. If it were me, I would’ve demanded gold and jewels stretched from the southernmost to the northernmost reaches of the empire. But she didn’t take a high-ranking title or any noble position either.”

Sascha remained silent.

“So what happened to the warrior after she defeated the dragon?”

Aderton’s tone was casual, but he wove together rumors as if he were simply musing aloud. Still, Sascha found herself trying to read into his words.

Is that why he came to find me? Because he already knew I was the warrior?

She had wondered the same thing when they first met. Did Aderton know her true identity? Yet in all this time, he had never treated her like someone famous. If he had been seeking out the Sascha, surely he would’ve recognized her immediately—made a fuss about it, even. But he hadn’t. It seemed like he was simply interested in the stories that surrounded the warrior, nothing more.

It wasn’t strange for him to be curious. The warrior had remained a popular topic of gossip long after the war, mostly because she had vanished after refusing her rewards. Sascha tilted her head in thought before pointing a finger toward the sky.

“Maybe she ascended to the heavens?”

“What?”

She smirked, her lips twitching with mischief. Seeing Aderton’s puzzled expression, she continued, “People say the warrior must have been sent by the gods. So maybe she just… returned to them?”

“She was human.”

The sharpness in his response took her aback. She had expected him to laugh or roll his eyes, but instead, his voice was firm, rejecting the idea outright. The sudden shift made her feel a little awkward.

“A festival celebrating a warrior who isn’t even here… Doesn’t that seem strange?” he muttered.

“But isn’t it a good thing? No one’s getting hurt. Everything’s peaceful.”

Sascha scratched the back of her head and turned her gaze back outside. She watched as a child, grasping both parents’ hands, leaped forward with boundless energy. The sound of their carefree laughter reached her ears, and her lips curled upward.

After her vengeance was complete, Sascha had wandered aimlessly through the streets, unsure of what to do with herself. Watching people go about their daily lives—laughing, talking, playing—had been the only thing that gave her any sense of relief. At least my efforts weren’t in vain. At least there will be no more nights spent in fear, wondering if tomorrow will come.

Even now, she enjoyed watching people’s expressions. Seeing them happy made her feel lighter, as if their joy could wash away the weight she carried.

“If the dragon hadn’t been defeated, people wouldn’t even dream of living peacefully like this,” she murmured.

Aderton glanced down at his untouched meal. He knew she was right. Back when the dragon terrorized the land, even having enough food to eat had been a luxury. Safety had been an illusion. Parents had lost their children. Children had lost their parents.

The streets were filled with laughter. Children ran freely, families strolled leisurely, and there wasn’t a trace of worry on anyone’s face. The world had returned to the peace it had known before Kalceus.

“A hero isn’t needed in peaceful times. What’s more important is that people are happy. When I hear them laughing, I feel lighter, too,” Sascha said, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed out the window. Her face was soft with contentment.

Aderton, however, had a different reaction. His fork stabbed into his food with an unusual sharpness, puncturing a sausage repeatedly as if it had personally wronged him. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but oddly tense.

“It’s fascinating that you can think that way.”

“Hmm?”

“When I see people enjoying themselves, it twists something in my stomach.”

Sascha turned to look at him. The usual warmth in his gaze had vanished, replaced by something distant and cold.

“…What?”

For a moment, she thought she had misheard him. She tilted her head, confused. Aderton blinked as if realizing his mistake and quickly waved his hand.

“Ah, no, no. Of course, seeing happy people makes me happy, too. How could it not?”

But the words lacked conviction. The excuse came too late, and Sascha’s expression remained unconvinced. Letting out a quiet sigh, Aderton finally admitted, “To be honest, I don’t really get it.”

“Why not?”

“What’s so exciting that they can laugh so easily? It’s noisy. Annoying. Honestly, I’d rather see them crying or despairing.”

Sascha stared at him, her mind struggling to process his words. She had never expected such a bitter, twisted thought to come from him.

“Why would you think that? Did something happen to you—”

She trailed off as Aderton leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in a defensive posture. His gaze lowered, then flickered back up, sharp and unyielding.

“Do I need a reason? People are free to think however they want.”

“But there has to be something that made you feel that way,” Sascha pressed. “Maybe you genuinely dislike seeing people happy. Or maybe… you just don’t have the room to appreciate it right now. If it’s the second, that can change.”

People who had suffered great tragedies often reacted in one of two ways—either they learned to appreciate life more deeply, or they grew cynical and bitter, unable to move past their pain.

Had Aderton simply never healed from whatever wounds he carried? Sascha watched him carefully, her concern evident. He frowned at her worried expression, then let out a resigned sigh.

“Maybe I used to be like that,” he murmured. “Now? I don’t know anymore. And honestly, I don’t think I care enough to figure it out.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to try? Wouldn’t you rather be happy than stay miserable?”

“…Happiness?”

The word sat awkwardly in his mouth, like a foreign language he had never spoken before. He repeated it a few times, testing how it felt on his tongue, then gave her a lopsided smile.

“But happiness isn’t something you achieve alone. For example, I find small happiness in taking care of someone—cleaning their home, cooking for them.”

“…”

“And wouldn’t it be nice if someone helped me be happy, too?”

“…Stop talking nonsense and focus on healing your leg.”

Curiously, she didn’t outright reject his words. Aderton, catching the subtlety, grinned and leaned in slightly.

“Are you saying you’ll help?”

“Eat your food. It’s getting cold.”

“Really?”

She never said no. Instead, she busied herself with her soup, turning her attention to her drink as if the conversation was already over. Aderton didn’t push further, satisfied by her reaction alone.

Sascha glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was practically glowing with amusement, his smile soft yet triumphant. She had no idea why he found such a simple exchange so gratifying, but the way he grinned so shamelessly made her narrow her eyes at him in mock annoyance.

“You’re really going to help me?”

“Are you going to eat or not?”

“See? You can never just be honest with yourself.”

Aderton, clearly delighted, took his first enthusiastic bite of food since sitting down. Compared to his usual habit of forcing down meals as if they were a bitter medicine, this was a remarkable improvement. Sascha, who had been avoiding his gaze, sighed and focused on finishing her own meal.

She knew as well as he did that his injury was just an excuse. Until now, she had been firm in her decision to keep others at arm’s length, to never let anyone stay by her side. But Aderton had become an exception. Her change of heart wasn’t spontaneous—it had started during this trip, during the brief time they had been apart.

Sascha had always convinced herself she was fine alone. But when she left for another town and spent half a day without Aderton, she realized just how empty the silence felt. For the first time, she was aware of loneliness, and the realization unsettled her.

At that moment, a family passed by. A child sat on his father’s shoulders, giggling as his mother wiped ice cream off another child’s cheek. It was an ordinary family, nothing remarkable about them at all.

And yet, Sascha couldn’t look away until they had disappeared into the alley.

I envy them.

That single thought surfaced, unbidden.

And with it, a small, long-buried wish followed—one she had convinced herself to forget the moment she was told she couldn’t have children. But was it really so wrong to want companionship, to share a home with someone? Not a family in the traditional sense, but something close, something steady.

She was strong, capable, and made plenty of money selling monster remains. She had more than enough to sustain herself and one other person. By the time she had decided to suggest he stay longer, Aderton had already been the one to ask first.

While she was lost in thought, Aderton finished his meal, leaving his plate spotless. The man who once turned his nose up at meat and vegetables had eaten everything without complaint. Was he really that happy?

Sascha walked up to the counter to pay, but the waitress shook her head.

“It’s already been taken care of.”

“…What?”

She hadn’t even reached for her coin pouch yet. She looked down at the money in her hand, confused, only to feel Aderton push her gently from behind.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait—did you pay? With what money?”

“I’m offended that you’d think I have nothing to spend on my mate.”

Sascha’s brow twitched. Mate? What a ridiculous thing to call her—as if they were wild animals.

But before she could scold him for it, Aderton grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the exit.

“Let’s go see the festival!”

He was relentless, dragging her outside before she could protest further. At this point, she gave up resisting and fell into step beside him.