Chapter 111
Relying on the few torches held by the knights, Sethian, who was riding his horse through the enveloping darkness, suddenly found his thoughts drifting to a question posed by one of the instructors he had once encountered.
The instructor had inquired what the most profound emotion Sethian had ever experienced over a prolonged period might be.
Without hesitation, Sethian had replied, “boredom.” This overwhelming sense of ennui, which returned every time he nearly forgot it, never seemed to fade. To escape its grasp, he required some form of stimulation, but such sensations were not easily come by, leaving him to grapple with moments of profound difficulty.
No matter the endeavor, everything felt tedious. Even when he encountered something intriguing, the fleeting thrill would vanish almost immediately, only for a deeper, more unbearable boredom to take its place. Despite this knowledge, he had grown weary of the relentless tedium and sought out new distractions. At times, he even contemplated that it might be less dreary to simply die and close his eyes forever.
For Sethian, his brothers—who regarded him as a thorn in their side—provided a source of unexpected stimulation. Although often engulfed by the urge to do nothing, their threats would rekindle his instincts to “live,” prompting his body to take action.
This instinct for survival naturally birthed interest, which in turn became a stimulant that facilitated Sethian's growth both outwardly and inwardly.
The instructor, having posed his initial question, then asked another.
“What is the most intense emotion you have ever felt in a brief moment?”
In that instance, Sethian had answered, “interest.” It was the kind of interest that surged like a wave from his toes, coursing through him until it erupted in his mind, enveloping him in a euphoria akin to joy.
But now, he felt certain that he would respond differently to both questions.
The emotion he had felt most deeply over time was “affection,” while the most intense emotion he had ever experienced in a fleeting moment was “anxiety.”
Sethian became acutely aware that the shadows concealing his face were gradually revealing signs of that very anxiety. He wiped his brow with the hand that grasped the reins, feeling the tension etched into his features. To Sethian, revealing his face felt like exposing his most vulnerable self; he needed to compose himself before he faltered.
“Joo Yi-Gyeol, Joo Yi-Gyeol, Joo Yi-Gyeol.”
He repeated the name of a man endlessly in his mind, biting down on his lower lip, still tinged with the metallic taste of blood. The sharp flavor and numbing sensation helped to clear his mind, if only a little.
“Your Majesty, by now, the carriage should have been apprehended.”
At the sound behind him, Sethian slowed his horse. Renoc, who had approached cautiously, posed a question.
“Do you believe it was a ruse?”
“It’s likely,” Sethian replied without hesitation. Though he had dispatched knights as a precaution, he was certain that Yi-Gyeol had not escaped in a carriage.
“The two carriages are either empty or occupied by someone else. Most likely, Joo Yi-Gyeol fled on foot.”
Aware that checkpoints were already being established, Joo Yi-Gyeol would not travel in a conspicuous carriage. Furthermore, he would avoid the two closest villages that were the carriages’ destinations.
That was a strategy Yi-Gyeol would likely consider, but it was reckless. What could he possibly achieve with such a fragile body, one that could collapse at any moment?
Sethian lifted his gaze, scanning the deepening darkness. The narrow path began to be flanked by thick forests on either side.
“A forest…”
Though the night was dark, Sethian knew that if it were Yi-Gyeol, he could easily find his way using the moonlight filtering through the trees. He would likely use the forest as his cover.
Sethian raised his hand to signal the knights to halt. The sound of hooves behind him gradually quieted.
“I will expand the search to encompass the surrounding forest.”
“But Your Majesty, it’s so dark that we can barely see without torches. We might not be able to search the entire forest unless we focus on the path,” Renoc cautioned.
From the opposite side, Kirsty lifted her eyes in disbelief. “Joo Yi-Gyeol might be in danger right now, and you’re speaking so calmly?”
Renoc shot back, glaring at Kirsty. “It’s not calm; it’s practical. We have too few torches, and how can we search this vast forest with such little manpower?”
With some knights dispatched to other paths or in pursuit of the carriage, their numbers had dwindled significantly. Only about forty knights remained, and with this meager force, even a small forest would prove difficult to thoroughly search if they spread too thin. Moreover, with merely ten torches, they could not adequately cover the entire area.
It seemed an impossible task to comb through the entirety of the forest, especially at night.
Sethian gazed at the woods flanking the path, deep in thought.
The left forest extended toward the villages ahead, while the right forest would lead them back the way they had come.
It was nearly impossible to search both woods.
Sethian fixed his attention on the right forest and spoke decisively.
“There’s a chance it’s this one.”
Rather than heading toward the other villages, Sethian suspected that Yi-Gyeol would have chosen to retrace their steps.
“He’s more likely to take the route we’ve already traversed than venture toward another village we might search. He would aim to avoid capture by guards or knights bearing wanted posters.”
The thought tightened his chest, and his heart raced.
Sethian’s eyes, burning with intensity, seemed to seek out someone hidden within the shadows of the right forest.
* * *
Elsewhere in the forest…
Yi-Gyeol pressed his hands tightly to his mouth, desperate to stifle any sound.
His heart felt as though it were plummeting, and his chest threatened to burst.
Rustle—rustle.
The sound of footsteps, muffled by long training, reached his ears. But to Yi-Gyeol, who was hiding while holding his breath, it resonated like thunder.
“They still haven’t found him, even after all this time?”
“I know, right?”
The voices of two men echoed nearby. Yi-Gyeol, already struggling to breathe quietly, felt as though his breath had completely seized up. Dizzy from his wavering vision, he squeezed his eyes shut.
“If only the ones who went toward the carriage had found him, they could cease searching and return.”
“His Majesty believes it’s probably a trick.”
“That’s possible, but how would someone who’s never left the castle prepare for such a deception? His Majesty is overestimating him.”
“Shush! What if he hears us and runs off?”
“If he does, wonderful. We’ll catch him the moment he shows himself.”
Listening intently to the knights' conversation, Yi-Gyeol’s hands covering his mouth trembled.
“They’ve figured it out. What should I do now? How do I escape this predicament?”
He never imagined Sethian would pinpoint the exact location of his hiding place. Had he not temporarily left his body to scout the area and glance down at the forest, he might have already fallen into the knights’ clutches.
The knights Sethian commanded had concentrated solely on this forest, displaying little interest in searching the others. Even if they combed through here, if their numbers had been spread out he might have found an escape route, but the forest was not large to begin with, making it nearly impossible for Yi-Gyeol to find an opening.
“If I don’t find a way out soon, I’ll be caught.”
Yi-Gyeol was concealed beneath a small cliff in the forest, but the threat of discovery loomed ever closer. He couldn’t afford to act hastily; he needed to assess the situation. If the knights stumbled upon his body while he scouted in spirit form, the consequences would be dire.
His trembling hand fell from his mouth and grasped the vial of sleeping medicine hanging around his neck. The cold glass felt unsettling against his skin.
“Should I use this?”
Yet the knights were highly trained. He couldn’t be certain that he would manage to sedate them all and escape. In truth, he might be intercepted before he even had the chance to uncork the bottle. Even if he succeeded in getting past the first knights, any others who found him would surely sound the alarm, intensifying the search.
His thoughts clouded with despair.
“I have to find a way out…”
Just as he opened his eyes again, he found himself holding his breath once more.
A brilliant light flickered before him in the darkness.
- Hello.
The light, a radiant spot amidst the gloom, revealed itself to be a white butterfly, familiar to Yi-Gyeol. It hovered before him, its voice equally familiar, and the sight of it felt like a dream.
- Long time no see.
The butterfly, speaking in a tone that confirmed it was no mere illusion, addressed him with warmth that pierced the shadows.
The instructor had inquired what the most profound emotion Sethian had ever experienced over a prolonged period might be.
Without hesitation, Sethian had replied, “boredom.” This overwhelming sense of ennui, which returned every time he nearly forgot it, never seemed to fade. To escape its grasp, he required some form of stimulation, but such sensations were not easily come by, leaving him to grapple with moments of profound difficulty.
No matter the endeavor, everything felt tedious. Even when he encountered something intriguing, the fleeting thrill would vanish almost immediately, only for a deeper, more unbearable boredom to take its place. Despite this knowledge, he had grown weary of the relentless tedium and sought out new distractions. At times, he even contemplated that it might be less dreary to simply die and close his eyes forever.
For Sethian, his brothers—who regarded him as a thorn in their side—provided a source of unexpected stimulation. Although often engulfed by the urge to do nothing, their threats would rekindle his instincts to “live,” prompting his body to take action.
This instinct for survival naturally birthed interest, which in turn became a stimulant that facilitated Sethian's growth both outwardly and inwardly.
The instructor, having posed his initial question, then asked another.
“What is the most intense emotion you have ever felt in a brief moment?”
In that instance, Sethian had answered, “interest.” It was the kind of interest that surged like a wave from his toes, coursing through him until it erupted in his mind, enveloping him in a euphoria akin to joy.
But now, he felt certain that he would respond differently to both questions.
The emotion he had felt most deeply over time was “affection,” while the most intense emotion he had ever experienced in a fleeting moment was “anxiety.”
Sethian became acutely aware that the shadows concealing his face were gradually revealing signs of that very anxiety. He wiped his brow with the hand that grasped the reins, feeling the tension etched into his features. To Sethian, revealing his face felt like exposing his most vulnerable self; he needed to compose himself before he faltered.
“Joo Yi-Gyeol, Joo Yi-Gyeol, Joo Yi-Gyeol.”
He repeated the name of a man endlessly in his mind, biting down on his lower lip, still tinged with the metallic taste of blood. The sharp flavor and numbing sensation helped to clear his mind, if only a little.
“Your Majesty, by now, the carriage should have been apprehended.”
At the sound behind him, Sethian slowed his horse. Renoc, who had approached cautiously, posed a question.
“Do you believe it was a ruse?”
“It’s likely,” Sethian replied without hesitation. Though he had dispatched knights as a precaution, he was certain that Yi-Gyeol had not escaped in a carriage.
“The two carriages are either empty or occupied by someone else. Most likely, Joo Yi-Gyeol fled on foot.”
Aware that checkpoints were already being established, Joo Yi-Gyeol would not travel in a conspicuous carriage. Furthermore, he would avoid the two closest villages that were the carriages’ destinations.
That was a strategy Yi-Gyeol would likely consider, but it was reckless. What could he possibly achieve with such a fragile body, one that could collapse at any moment?
Sethian lifted his gaze, scanning the deepening darkness. The narrow path began to be flanked by thick forests on either side.
“A forest…”
Though the night was dark, Sethian knew that if it were Yi-Gyeol, he could easily find his way using the moonlight filtering through the trees. He would likely use the forest as his cover.
Sethian raised his hand to signal the knights to halt. The sound of hooves behind him gradually quieted.
“I will expand the search to encompass the surrounding forest.”
“But Your Majesty, it’s so dark that we can barely see without torches. We might not be able to search the entire forest unless we focus on the path,” Renoc cautioned.
From the opposite side, Kirsty lifted her eyes in disbelief. “Joo Yi-Gyeol might be in danger right now, and you’re speaking so calmly?”
Renoc shot back, glaring at Kirsty. “It’s not calm; it’s practical. We have too few torches, and how can we search this vast forest with such little manpower?”
With some knights dispatched to other paths or in pursuit of the carriage, their numbers had dwindled significantly. Only about forty knights remained, and with this meager force, even a small forest would prove difficult to thoroughly search if they spread too thin. Moreover, with merely ten torches, they could not adequately cover the entire area.
It seemed an impossible task to comb through the entirety of the forest, especially at night.
Sethian gazed at the woods flanking the path, deep in thought.
The left forest extended toward the villages ahead, while the right forest would lead them back the way they had come.
It was nearly impossible to search both woods.
Sethian fixed his attention on the right forest and spoke decisively.
“There’s a chance it’s this one.”
Rather than heading toward the other villages, Sethian suspected that Yi-Gyeol would have chosen to retrace their steps.
“He’s more likely to take the route we’ve already traversed than venture toward another village we might search. He would aim to avoid capture by guards or knights bearing wanted posters.”
The thought tightened his chest, and his heart raced.
Sethian’s eyes, burning with intensity, seemed to seek out someone hidden within the shadows of the right forest.
* * *
Elsewhere in the forest…
Yi-Gyeol pressed his hands tightly to his mouth, desperate to stifle any sound.
His heart felt as though it were plummeting, and his chest threatened to burst.
Rustle—rustle.
The sound of footsteps, muffled by long training, reached his ears. But to Yi-Gyeol, who was hiding while holding his breath, it resonated like thunder.
“They still haven’t found him, even after all this time?”
“I know, right?”
The voices of two men echoed nearby. Yi-Gyeol, already struggling to breathe quietly, felt as though his breath had completely seized up. Dizzy from his wavering vision, he squeezed his eyes shut.
“If only the ones who went toward the carriage had found him, they could cease searching and return.”
“His Majesty believes it’s probably a trick.”
“That’s possible, but how would someone who’s never left the castle prepare for such a deception? His Majesty is overestimating him.”
“Shush! What if he hears us and runs off?”
“If he does, wonderful. We’ll catch him the moment he shows himself.”
Listening intently to the knights' conversation, Yi-Gyeol’s hands covering his mouth trembled.
“They’ve figured it out. What should I do now? How do I escape this predicament?”
He never imagined Sethian would pinpoint the exact location of his hiding place. Had he not temporarily left his body to scout the area and glance down at the forest, he might have already fallen into the knights’ clutches.
The knights Sethian commanded had concentrated solely on this forest, displaying little interest in searching the others. Even if they combed through here, if their numbers had been spread out he might have found an escape route, but the forest was not large to begin with, making it nearly impossible for Yi-Gyeol to find an opening.
“If I don’t find a way out soon, I’ll be caught.”
Yi-Gyeol was concealed beneath a small cliff in the forest, but the threat of discovery loomed ever closer. He couldn’t afford to act hastily; he needed to assess the situation. If the knights stumbled upon his body while he scouted in spirit form, the consequences would be dire.
His trembling hand fell from his mouth and grasped the vial of sleeping medicine hanging around his neck. The cold glass felt unsettling against his skin.
“Should I use this?”
Yet the knights were highly trained. He couldn’t be certain that he would manage to sedate them all and escape. In truth, he might be intercepted before he even had the chance to uncork the bottle. Even if he succeeded in getting past the first knights, any others who found him would surely sound the alarm, intensifying the search.
His thoughts clouded with despair.
“I have to find a way out…”
Just as he opened his eyes again, he found himself holding his breath once more.
A brilliant light flickered before him in the darkness.
- Hello.
The light, a radiant spot amidst the gloom, revealed itself to be a white butterfly, familiar to Yi-Gyeol. It hovered before him, its voice equally familiar, and the sight of it felt like a dream.
- Long time no see.
The butterfly, speaking in a tone that confirmed it was no mere illusion, addressed him with warmth that pierced the shadows.
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