LS Chapter 1 (part 3)

Most things that were called beautiful in the world were fragile, but Bart seemed to embody both strength and beauty. As Yujin gazed at him, it felt as if Bart was the embodiment of both power and grace.

Anyone who locked eyes with Bart would have surely fallen for him. Now Yujin understood why the women in the village constantly spoke about him. Not only was he strong, but his beauty also radiated an almost untouchable aura.

Yujin found himself staring at Bart, feeling as though he could not look away. But before he knew it, Bart’s hand began to move. Yujin quickly lowered his head, his arms instinctively raised to protect his head, bracing for the pain.

He was going to be hit. Yujin expected the pain to be unbearable, but instead of the sharp strike he anticipated, he felt nothing. Thinking Bart might kick him, he took a step back, but something hit the ground with a soft thud.

…Meat?

The dried meat lying on the ground felt strangely out of place in this situation. Hesitant, Yujin looked around, but Bart was already turning away, walking down the mountain. Yujin quickly bent down, picking up the meat, and started to follow him, keeping a distance.

“…Thank you.”

His voice was so faint, like a whisper carried off by the wind, and as soon as it left his lips, it was lost in the air. Only when Bart’s form had disappeared into the distance did Yujin finally take a bite of the meat.

It was delicious. It wasn’t the tough, tasteless meat he was used to, but tender, seasoned with spices that made it irresistible. It was so good that Yujin couldn’t help but tear up.

Climbing the mountain had felt like an endless journey, but descending was quick. Yujin curled up under the tree where his belongings were placed. Unable to sleep, he silently lay still, glancing at the warriors gathered nearby. Why had Bart saved him? The first time could have been a coincidence, but the second time…

“Ugh, slow down… Ah…”

A woman’s moan echoed from behind the bushes, cutting through his thoughts. The wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh followed, and Yujin froze, shrinking even further. The woman’s moans, followed by the rhythmic slap of bodies, grew louder, drawing the attention of several warriors.

It was a sound Yujin had often heard back in the communal huts—the sounds of sex, indifferent to the people around. In the Mounted Tribe, no one cared about privacy when it came to their carnal needs. Yet, hearing it here, in the wild, made Yujin feel uneasy.

The slapping sounds grew louder, almost painfully so. Yujin’s face turned red as he heard the woman’s increasing cries of pleasure. Even the warriors couldn’t ignore it, some of them casting glances toward the bushes.

Yujin, used to the sounds of the tribe’s people in the huts, didn’t expect to hear them out here in the open. The violent slaps of skin continued, then suddenly stopped. A few moments later, Namta and the woman emerged from the bushes.

Yujin quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, fearing that he might be caught.

“Namta, you can’t just ignore me.”

“I told you, I understand.”

“Don’t forget, you promised me that if I bear your child, I’ll be your first wife.”

“I never said that.”

The woman, laughing dismissively, coaxed him further.

“Even if I’m not first, I must be your wife. Promise me.”

“Once the child is born.”

“You’ve already spilled your seed inside me. Of course, the child will come.”

A gaze fell on Yujin’s face. Had he been caught pretending to sleep? He couldn’t open his eyes now, hoping the gaze would pass.

The footsteps and voices faded, and once they were gone, Yujin slowly opened his eyes, glimpsing the woman’s ankle as she walked away. The traces of semen stained her leg, making the scene even more uncomfortable.

As Yujin thought about the woman who had climbed into Namta’s bed and now carried his child, she had achieved her goal. Now, she would be at the top, looking down on everyone.

As Yujin watched Namta’s retreating back, his gaze naturally shifted to Bart. Had he returned? He had gone down the mountain first, so he must have returned by now. Why did Bart save him? And why had he given him the meat?

A few days ago, Bart was just a warrior he occasionally heard about in conversations. Now, their paths had crossed, and their lives had become intertwined. With every passing day, Yujin found himself thinking more and more about Bart. But deep down, he knew that Bart’s actions were not out of kindness.

[“If you want to die, do it where I can’t see you.”]

Bart had saved him, but his words echoed in Yujin’s mind: go somewhere out of sight to die. After all, to someone like Bart, a commoner’s death didn’t matter.

They were both in the same time and place, but some fought to live while others sought death. Some fled for their lives, while others mocked the deaths of others. The people in the same village, living completely different lives. Just as Yujin’s pain didn’t reach them, their amusement never touched him either.

A bitter, self-deprecating smile passed over Yujin’s lips. Exhausted and defeated, he closed his eyes slowly, the image of Bart’s face from earlier lingering in his mind.

Cold, dry eyes. But strangely calm, so captivating that Yujin couldn’t tear his gaze away. A high, perfectly straight nose. Every feature, crafted as if by the gods themselves. Yujin couldn’t help but wonder why his heart raced when he thought of Bart. What would it feel like if Bart ever called his name? Would it be terrifying, or…

How pathetic. He doesn’t even know my name, so how could he ever call me?

Exhausted, Yujin closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

As the group crossed the mountain and entered Riazai Hamlet, they were greeted by the village leader, who bowed deeply, nearly to the ground. Namta, basking in the respect, smirked and accepted the gesture as if it were his due.

Following the warriors into the village, Yujin’s gaze caught on a patch of Riazai flowers blooming vibrantly in a corner.

‘Why would they plant Riazai flowers inside the village?’

In the place where Yujin had lived, if Riazai flowers grew anywhere within reach, people would uproot them entirely and discard them far outside the settlement. This precaution was meant to prevent accidents. But Riazai Hamlet was different.

‘What if someone… No, it’s not my concern.’

Adjusting the burden on his back, Yujin silently followed the others.

The Riazai village leader hosted a feast for the warriors, but only they were invited. However, word spread that food would be provided to the commoners as well, which lifted everyone’s spirits. Yujin felt a small measure of relief.

After eating the dried meat Bart had given him at the cliff, he hadn’t had a proper meal in days. Even if the food for the commoners would only be leftovers from the warriors’ feast, it was better than nothing.

Exhausted, Yujin headed toward the edge of the village, remembering a shallow stream nearby. He wanted to wash up before the evening chill set in. As he walked, dragging his aching legs and sore wrists, he noticed something odd—the patch of Riazai flowers he’d seen earlier was gone.

‘Why are they… Did they cut them down so quickly?’

He stopped, staring at the scattered leaves on the ground. It seemed the flowers had been hastily harvested, with bits of the plants left strewn about. Strangely, the debris trailed into the village rather than being discarded outside, which puzzled Yujin further.

‘Are they using Riazai flowers for food? That’s dangerous.’

While it wasn’t unheard of to use the plant in small amounts, it was risky. The leaves could occasionally be crushed and used as a sweet flavoring, but once the flowers were fully bloomed, their toxins spread to the leaves as well. If they didn’t understand this, it could lead to serious consequences.

‘They probably know what they’re doing. It’s their village, after all.’

Trying to shake off his concern, Yujin headed to the stream, washing his scraped knees and palms. Thankfully, the wounds weren’t infected and seemed likely to heal in a few days. Though the journey to Riazai Hamlet had been grueling, the clean water and brief respite improved his mood.

Reluctantly, Yujin left the stream and returned to the village. The smell of cooking meat filled the air, making his stomach growl. Following the scent, he glanced at the preparations for the feast.

As he passed by, a villager carrying a platter of food walked by. The roasted rabbit, perfectly browned, sent Yujin’s nose twitching. But then he froze. Yellow flowers and leaves were used as garnishes.

“Wait, are those…”

“Hmm? What is it?” the villager asked, pausing.

“No, nothing. That’s rabbit, right?”

“Yes. Food for non-warriors will be distributed later.”

“Understood.”

‘They used Riazai flowers? Why? Eating them could cause stomach aches—or worse, death.’

His unease growing, Yujin discreetly approached the kitchen hut and peered through a small gap in the wall. Inside, the cooks were busy, and one man, who seemed to be the head cook, gestured toward someone seated nearby.

A man crouched on the ground, crushing Riazai flowers and leaves into a paste. He handed the extracted juice to the head cook, who then drizzled it over a roasted boar. Watching the entire process, Yujin instinctively covered his mouth to stifle a gasp.

‘They’re doing it on purpose? Why? Could it be…’

Yujin’s instincts told him to warn someone, but doubt gnawed at him. ‘Who would even believe me? Is it even my place to intervene?’

Even if someone consumed the flowers, the effects might be mild—a stomachache at worst unless they already had underlying health issues or consumed a significant amount.

‘It’s better to stay out of this.’

Yet, one face lingered stubbornly in Yujin’s mind.

“What should I do…”

After hesitating, Yujin moved to find someone.

“Most of the people in the kitchen don’t seem like common villagers,” Miron reported, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

“They look like they have combat experience. Even some of the ones wandering the village pretending to be commoners seem like warriors. But there aren’t many of them,” Miron continued, addressing Bart.

Riazai Hamlet supplied daggers to the Mounted Tribe in exchange for their protection. This time, however, the situation was different. Delays in the deliveries were accompanied by requests for the tribe’s leader to visit due to alleged conflicts with neighboring villages.

While nothing seemed outright suspicious, the presence of numerous warriors disguised as commoners caught Bart’s attention. The way they moved silently, their scars, and the way their hands unconsciously hovered near their waists—it all pointed to training.

For a small, non-military village like Riazai, having so many warriors was unusual.

“If they were really planning to oppose us, they’d need far more than this,” Bart muttered, calculating.

The tribe had sent over thirty warriors—enough to overwhelm a non-military village like Riazai easily. To balance against warriors from the Mounted Tribe, they’d need three warriors for every one. Yet Miron and Tuga had only identified about twenty warriors.

“Even if they’re warriors from Riazai, they’re not from a combat village. What’s the problem?” Tuga, chewing on a piece of meat, spoke dismissively.

Bart’s sharp gaze silenced him. Lowering his head quickly, Tuga muttered, “I mean, uh… What’s that? Isn’t that the guy you pulled out of the river?”

Tuga gestured toward Yujin, who stood hesitantly nearby, his eyes meeting Bart’s. Startled, Yujin raised his hand awkwardly, drawing an incredulous laugh from Tuga.

“Is he waving at you? Does he think he’s one of us now? I told you, we shouldn’t treat commoners too kindly. Want me to put him in his place?”

“Stay here. I’ll handle it,” Bart said, cutting off Tuga’s suggestion.

Tuga blinked, caught off guard, but nodded as Bart strode toward Yujin.

Bart’s eyes swept over Yujin’s pale skin as he approached. In the moonlight, Yujin’s translucent complexion gleamed like a clear mountain stream. His bright red lips stood out sharply, almost provocatively, against his pallor.

“Um, Bart…”

Unlike most commoners, who used formal speech when addressing warriors out of fear, Yujin didn’t. Even so, his voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

Bart didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to Yujin’s lips.

Yujin, sensing the weight of Bart’s stare, finally mustered the courage to speak. “I know this might sound strange, but during the feast, don’t eat any of the meat garnished with yellow flowers. Just in case.”

“Yellow flowers?”

“They probably used them as decoration for the meat dishes. It’s better to avoid them.”

Bart’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why is he whispering? And why isn’t he using formal speech? Is he not afraid of me?’

“The flowers… They’re Riazai flowers. I don’t think the people here realize how dangerous they can be. They might have used them in the food.”

“I know a bit about herbs… or well, plants,” Yujin mumbled.

Bart tilted his head slightly, leaning in closer to study Yujin’s face. His long, narrow eyes with faint double eyelids curved delicately upward, and his lashes, thick and tightly packed, fluttered like the fragile wings of a bird. For a moment, Bart felt the odd urge to reach out and touch them—they looked soft, as if they’d yield gently under his fingers.

Just as his fingers twitched with the thought, he noticed Yujin’s eyes darting nervously, glancing at something in the distance.

Bart’s instinctive curiosity kicked in. Following Yujin’s subtle glances, he looked around. There was nothing and no one nearby. What was he so anxious about? Was he worried about Bart now? No, it wasn’t that. He seemed genuinely unsettled.