As the wounded snake slithered past, Raika let out a shaky sigh of relief. His chest rose and fell, heart pounding like a drum against his ribs.
"Where the hell did that come from?"
he muttered, forcing a weak laugh as if laughter could erase fear. His tone trembled, not with courage, but with denial... like a child refusing to believe in the monster lurking under his bed.
But Veythor did not share his relief. His crimson eyes remained sharp, carved with caution. He did not look at Raika, nor at the snake itself, but at the trail of blood it left behind. To him, every detail in the world was a thread spun by fate, and this one reeked of malice.
The thought echoed in his heart, heavy as lead, merciless as iron.
he said his voice flat, stripped of warmth. His body felt like giving up, muscles trembling, his flesh crying rebellion against the burden on his back. Carrying Shimi had drained him of energy; each step weighed like a stone shackled to his bones. Still, his stride did not falter.
He followed the snake’s blood trail with the precision of a predator. This bait was almost certainly sent to lure us where those masked men want. But the truth is crueler: no matter which way we go, the fate awaiting us is the same. To walk left is death, to walk right is death. Since there is no escape, then at least... perhaps this burden’s life might be saved.
A bitter laugh nearly touched his lips, but only a sigh escaped instead.
His eyes narrowed with irritation, the corners tightening with suppressed wrath.
Danger had become their constant companion. It came like waves against a shore relentless... unending. Dogs, masked men, venom, pursuit... every moment was a gamble against fate. Death could descend at any time.
How much longer will I live ? A monkey, beaten from branch to branch, stumbling and crawling here and there... mocked by fate itself.
The forest pressed heavy around them. Every branch seemed to whisper. Every gust of wind carried omen.
Then... suddenly... Veythor’s ears twitched and his steps froze. His crimson red eyes widened, glinting with something Raika could not yet hear. Read complete version only at novel·fıre·net
"The sound of water..." he murmured.
Raika blinked, he was confused. "Sound of what?"
Veythor silenced him with a single sharp breath, tilting his head. He strained his senses, filtering the world through instinct. Yes it was there... the distant rush, the ceaseless roar of a current flowing unbroken. The call of a river, the voice of a waterfall.
Without hesitation, Veythor’s body moved. He sprinted forward, heart surging with the instinct of prey stumbling upon a possible salvation.
"Hey! Where the hell are you going? Why are you running?!" Raika shouted, panic and confusion cracking his voice.
But Veythor did not answer. The sound grew louder with every step, tugging at him like an invisible thread, pulling him forward as if the world itself demanded his descent.
The trees parted... light pierced through the canopy.
Then suddenly— nothing. The ground vanished beneath his feet. For a fleeting instant, his faint smile froze on his lips. Then his body plunged, weightless, helpless, the abyss swallowing him whole. Wind roared in his ears. His vision spun, the world twisting.
Far above, Raika’s voice cracked the sky.
"Veythor! No! Shimi.... save her, save her somehow!"
But Veythor did not panic. As the void embraced him, his eyes captured a vision of cruel beauty: a towering waterfall, sunlight scattering across the cascade like shattered jade. He tightened his arms around Shimi, his face calm as still water.
To an outsider, it would seem as though he were protecting her. To Raika, it would look like noble sacrifice.
But in Veythor’s heart, the truth coiled cold and unfeeling.
If I must fall... then I’ll use her body to shield myself from death. Survival... only survival mattered. Morality was the luxury of those unchained by fate.
His gaze sharpened. A jagged branch jutted from the cliffside. Channeling the last of his strength, he twisted midair, stretching his arm like a hawk diving upon prey. His hand caught the branch— Agony exploded.
His palm shredded against the bark. Flesh tore... blood spurted. His right arm convulsed, muscles screaming as if they might snap. Pain seared through him, unbearable, unending. Yet still he held Shimi with his other arm, each heartbeat burning more than fire.
For a fleeting moment, he considered loosening his grip. Dropping her slowly. Freeing himself from the weight.
But before the thought could even bloom, the branch cracked. A sharp snap! echoed through the canyon. It shattered beneath his weight. Veythor’s eyes widened once more. Rage surged like lightning through his chest.
he bellowed, his voice a curse hurled into the indifferent heavens. Shimi slipped from his grasp. He could no longer use her as shield or burden. Together, they plummeted into the abyss, striking the grassy ground with a resounding thump.
The impact rattled his very bones. His body screamed, his vision blurred. The world spun like a mad carousel, his head heavy, his breath shallow.
Consciousness faltered, teetering at the edge of oblivion.
That was the only curse he could muster as darkness lapped at the corners of his sight.
Suddenly, a shock of cold jolted him awake. His chest convulsed, lungs dragging in air as if drowning. Vision blurred, then slowly sharpened. Above him loomed Raika’s face, twisted with anger and fear. The boy knelt down, seizing his collar with trembling hands, shaking him violently.
"You careless bastard! What if Shimi was injured?!" Raika’s voice cracked with rage.
Veythor simply stared at him, silent, crimson eyes void of guilt. His gaze shifted to the right. There... Shimi lay several meters away, unconscious but whole.
Must be nice... to be asleep without worry, he thought bitterly, lips curling into the faintest smirk.
"Why aren’t you answering?!" Raika screamed again, desperation and fury in every syllable.
Veythor still gave no reply. His attention was elsewhere... on the warmth slicking his palm, the sharp sting in his shoulder.
My shoulder... surely dislocated.
He murmured inwardly, then slowly pushed himself upright. Raika released his collar, rushing instead to Shimi’s side.
Veythor rose to his feet, each motion dragging pain through his body. His steps carried him toward the waterfall. The roar of falling water filled his ears, endless and soothing. It wasn’t just sound... it was song, eternal and untamed. For the first time in what felt like eternity, his heart felt strangely still.
The spray kissed his skin, cool and refreshing, as though the waterfall itself sought to wash away his exhaustion.
Somehow... I feel fresh. As if I’ve woken from a long, satisfying sleep.
He narrowed his eyes, gazing into the rushing waters, though pain still clung stubbornly to his flesh.
Could it be... this water...?
The thought flickered like a spark in the abyss of his mind. He knelt down, crimson eyes fixed on the stream with the weight of a man who had lived and died many times to take anything at face value.