IYAMD: 50

The funeral was not long. After the emperor and the priest delivered their eulogies, the knights buried their fallen comrades one by one in the holes they had dug.

With so many people and all of them strong, the digging was finished in no time.

At the front of each grave, wooden markers were placed. Since it wasn’t possible to erect gravestones immediately, it seemed like they were just marking whose grave it was for now.

The somber mood that had settled during the funeral didn’t last long. The knights, having shaken off the dirt from their hands, began to laugh and chatter as if the sadness had been swept away.

It seemed that in the Western Continent, funerals were meant to end on a cheerful note.

For Jaha, who came from the Eastern Continent, this atmosphere felt a little strange and fascinating. How could they forget someone’s death so quickly?

Gerald, who was standing nearby, asked Jaha.

“The mood is quite different from home, right?”

He chuckled softly, saying he was also surprised when he first witnessed an Eastern Continent funeral.

“I felt like I truly experienced the word ‘lament’ for the first time.”

He said the expression wasn’t used in the Western Continent. Gerald mentioned that in the Western Continent, they would say someone cried or wept, but ‘lament’ was a term used only in the Eastern Continent.

Jaha, curious, wrote a question with his finger in the air.

‘Do Westerners dislike crying?’

Gerald smiled quietly and shook his head.

“It’s not that they dislike it… How should I explain it? I guess they don’t really understand the difference between crying quietly and crying loudly. If you just shed tears, doesn’t the sadness lessen a bit? Also, crying loudly is something for children, you know…”

Was that so? Jaha couldn’t fully understand his words. Isn’t there a kind of sorrow that doesn’t go away just by shedding tears?

Jaha pressed his palm gently against his chest. There was something held within his heart as well.

When the chest feels heavy, doesn’t one want to shout out? Even now, Jaha felt like a sigh would come out from the sensation that still lingered.

But how could they just shake off the sorrow and turn away so easily? That was what piqued his curiosity.

While the two were talking, Marsilia was giving some orders to General Des nearby.

“Pick out those who are in good condition and send scouts. Make sure they check the valleys of the Deto Mountain Range. Send multiple units and tell them to come back immediately if anything strange happens. The rest can rest for a day or two.”

The one who likely needed the most rest was probably Marsilia himself. Jaha, finishing his conversation with Gerald, looked toward Marsilia.

The man maintaining a composed attitude looked quite fatigued. Thinking about it, Jaha realized that the man’s tired appearance was all too familiar.

Jaha immediately understood why, biting his tongue in his mouth. Since bringing him along, Marsilia had hardly had any rest.

Hmm. It was a complicated feeling. He felt guilty, but at the same time, he didn’t even know why he was feeling that way.

It was a complicated feeling. It wasn’t like Jaha had clung to him willingly, so why did he feel indebted every time? Shouldn’t the one who should feel indebted be Marsilia, the man who needed him?

With a sigh, Jaha turned his gaze toward the open field. He probably felt this way because he had gotten attached to him.

That wasn’t good. What if he ended up wanting to fulfill whatever Marsilia desired?

He felt Marsilia‘s presence from behind. His footsteps were silent, but just by the aura he gave off, Jaha knew who it was.

“Sable.”

At the soft call, Jaha unconsciously bit his lips. Otherwise, it felt like a deep sigh would escape.

“Let’s go back to the tent.”

When he turned his head, the shadow on the man’s face was quite heavy.

“It looks like it’s going to rain, so we’ll have dinner earlier.” Jaha nodded, and Marsilia walked ahead toward the tent.

He hadn’t said anything about holding hands this time. Jaha followed him, staring at his broad back.

Well, he wasn’t a child, so there was no reason for him to do that every time. Yet, for some reason, Jaha felt a little disappointed.

Unlike Marsilia, who walked swiftly ahead, Jaha’s steps somehow slowed down.

Marsilia turned around, raising an eyebrow as if he found the distance strange, then he chuckled softly.

He extended his hand with a sigh, as if it was a big deal, making an exaggerated motion.

“If it’s hard to walk, I’ll carry you.”

Who wanted that? Jaha ignored his outstretched hand and passed by him. At that moment, Marsilia suddenly lifted Jaha off the ground.

The warmth of his body touched Jaha’s back, thighs, and torso. Jaha realized that Marsilia hadn’t fully cooled down yet.

Had he hurried to return to the tent because he was tired?

‘Put me down.’

Marsilia, who had started walking slowly toward the tent, read Jaha’s lips and smiled so widely that his dimples deepened.

“Do you want a kiss?”

Jaha scrunched his brow and rolled his eyes.

‘You have a fever.’

Seeing him act as if nothing was wrong only made Jaha feel more frustrated. But Marsilia didn’t understand his feelings and instead lightly kissed Jaha’s cheek.

“Where there are no people.”

Who asked for that? Jaha, afraid that the unnecessary quarrel would only make him tired, kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t far to the tent, so he wouldn’t die.

But during that short distance, Jaha’s heart began to stir, like a pot of boiling water. He glanced at Marsilia, walking quickly ahead, and then let his body relax.

There was no need to tense up and make it heavier for no reason.

He arrived at the tent and, upon entering, gently set Jaha down at the entrance. Surprisingly, it ended with little drama.

However, the moment Jaha turned to enter, he was pulled back in. The man’s large chest enveloped him in a tight embrace.

With his thick arm around Jaha’s waist, the man pulled him in. Looking down at the startled Jaha, he whispered in a voice full of heat.

“There’s no one here, Jaha.”

No one? Jaha was about to turn to see Malek, who had already entered and was waiting, but the man was quicker.

He grabbed Jaha’s chin, holding it firmly to prevent him from moving, and then pressed his lips to Jaha’s.

Jaha, startled, raised his arms to push him away but froze. The kiss was hotter than usual, and the tongue probing inside was even hotter.

It would be easy to push the man away if he wanted to. So why couldn’t he? Jaha watched the man as his tongue relentlessly rubbed the roof of his mouth.

The man’s eyes were tightly closed as he kept moving his tongue over the place where his name should be.

A tingling sensation spread, but more than that, it felt as if the man’s desperation was reaching him.

Jaha slowly released the strength he had been holding back. He let himself be gently led by the man, who pulled him closer.

As he closed his eyes, Jaha mocked himself inwardly. He wondered why he felt sorry for the man, for his heart felt strange.

Pity? The man had no reason to be pitied. He was the emperor of the empire, with good looks, strength, and great abilities. Why would Jaha pity him?

But the heavy shoulders he had seen earlier made him feel a sense of pity. Even with such immense power, the man lived in harsh conditions and Jaha found that sad.

The fact that he couldn’t show weakness to anyone, yet claimed to have waited for Jaha for ten years, made Jaha feel a deep pity for him.

But why? He, who lived only because he couldn’t die, had no right to pity him. He, who had no attachment to life, shouldn’t feel sorry for a man who lived so fiercely.

Every time the man’s hot tongue swept over the roof of Jaha’s mouth, warmth spread to Jaha’s eyes. His nose tingled, and his eyes grew wet.

As Jaha grabbed the man’s coat and tugged on it, the man pulled away just a moment later.

Breathing heavily, the man kissed Jaha’s cheek and nose, then tightened his arm around Jaha’s waist, pulling him even closer. His body pressed firmly against Jaha’s, but for some reason, Jaha felt a chill running through him.

Jaha could feel something hard against his pelvis, and he shuddered involuntarily. The resistance and disgust he felt surged up his spine quickly.

He lifted his arms and pushed against the man’s chest. However, the man responded with an even stronger pressure, pulling Jaha’s body tightly against his.

The man buried his face in Jaha’s shoulder and chuckled softly. Jaha, aware of the man’s hot skin touching his neck and his lower body moving away, couldn’t help but hear his laugh.

After a moment, the man raised his head, kissed Jaha’s cheek, then swept his eyes over Jaha’s face.

“You’re such a strange person. You have the strength to push me away, yet you don’t. If you hated it so much, you should have pushed me off.”

With a sigh, the man walked past Jaha toward the bed, lazily shrugging off his jacket before throwing it aside and diving onto the bed.

Mumbling indistinctly into the pillow, he spoke in a muffled voice.

“I need to rest.”

Marsilia lazily turned his head toward Jaha, his voice following.

“Stay here, don’t go anywhere.”

With those words, the man closed his eyes. Perhaps due to the fever, his breathing was rougher than usual.

The room was now empty except for the two of them. Malek seemed to have quietly disappeared.

Jaha remained in place, watching the man lying there, unsure if he was truly asleep or pretending to be. He didn’t move for a long time, just staring at the man’s back, as if waiting for something.