RHH | Chapter 1.9

Leehwan, leading the group, silently halted his horse. The knights following him stopped as well. Duku, riding directly behind Leehwan, whispered,

“Shall we get ready?”

As Leehwan nodded, a rustling noise accompanied something bursting forth. The knights, who had been on high alert, drew their blades.

However, it was just a small snake. A recently joined knight chuckled and swung his sword,

“Got all tense for nothing. Get out of here…!”

Thud!

The young knight’s blood sprayed in all directions. He couldn’t even scream as his head was completely severed.

A lion, its jaws dripping with blood, had bitten through the knight’s armored neck in one swift move. Next to it, a goat’s head was attached, and from the rear, the snake they had just seen mockingly wriggled.

“Chimera!”

Someone shouted the monster’s name. As if it had been called, the three-headed creature split its mouths wide open. Simultaneously, numerous shadows loomed over the knights.

The upper bodies were women’s, but their lower bodies and wings were those of birds. Pale faces looked down on the knights. It was the harpies’ arrival.

Crossbows were loaded, equipped with ropes tied to the bolts. While one harpy shrieked in pain from a hit, knights rushed to wrap the rope tightly around a thick tree trunk. Each struggle from the harpy caused the hook-like bolt end to painfully tear into its flesh.

Some bolts were also fitted with nets. A large net unfolded in the air, ensnaring the harpies. The more they flapped their wings, the more tangled the net became, causing several harpies to crash.

Meanwhile, the knights were engaged with the chimeras. There were five chimeras, but with each having three heads, it was like fighting a much larger number.

Leehwan sliced through the lion’s head of a chimera, then quickly changed the direction of his blade to cleave the goat’s head. His movements were fluid, not ending there.

Thunk.

His crescent blade pierced through the body of the chimera, reaching its core. The chimera attempted to flee sensing the danger, but Leehwan was quicker. The core shattered immediately, releasing black smoke.

“Cough! Cough…”

Passing by the corpse of the dead chimera, Leehwan coughed. Feeling déjà vu, he involuntarily stopped and wiped his mouth. It might have seemed like a tickle, but what flashed through his mind was the illness he had before his regression.

The illness that started with such a cough was mysterious, with no known cause or name. However, there was a similar illness in this world—a mild disease akin to chickenpox on modern Earth, which local children easily recovered from. Thus, Leehwan speculated that this world’s endemic disease was harsher on him as a foreigner.

Maybe the disease was already progressing. He needed to return to Earth sooner, before the illness worsened. Leehwan resolved to return home.

Even as he pondered other thoughts, his body efficiently continued to slaughter the chimeras. Leehwan split the chest of a second chimera and shattered its core with the tip of his sword.

Now, only one chimera remained. The original thirteen harpies had been reduced to five. Sensing their dire situation, they began to flee.

“Chase them!”

Leehwan shouted briefly and mounted his horse. He whipped the reins hard, and the horse began to sprint.

The monsters were fleeing toward the mountain summit. The path narrowed as they ascended, with a sheer cliff visible below. Despite this, the horse galloped fearlessly.

Horses are naturally timid creatures. Under normal circumstances, chasing monsters would be unthinkable. However, by blindfolding the horse, it became possible.

Lucien had done something similar to Leehwan. With a pretty smile, he blinded him and with sweet words, he blocked his ears, making Leehwan dance to the royal family’s tune.

Never again.

As Leehwan navigated a sharp turn, a harpy that had been lying in wait swooped down on him. Flapping its wings fiercely, it caught Leehwan off balance, and another harpy pushed against his horse.

“Catch him!”

Duku, following behind, reached out his hand while shouting almost like a scream. Then, he was overwhelmed by a rain of rocks—a harpy’s doing. Groaning, Duku retreated, and in that time, Leehwan had moved beyond his reach.

The strong wind rising from the depths fluttered Leehwan’s cloak. His silver armor, once gleaming like a beacon, was soon engulfed by darkness.

“Sir Alexander!”

Duku cried out. But the only response was an echo mimicking his voice.

Leehwan, hearing a name that never quite felt like his own even after years of use, curled his lips in a grim smile.

He remembered this event quite vividly due to its shock. To minimize discrepancies, he tried to move as similarly as possible to that time, and the result wasn’t too bad. Even the falling rocks were the same.

Before his regression, he had fallen off a cliff at this point. However, he managed to slow his fall somewhat by catching branches along the way, preventing severe injury. But the real danger had followed. A falling rock had crushed him, breaking his back and several bones.

This time would be different.

Leehwan deflected the rocks. Though his movement was restricted by the fall, he managed it somehow.

Still wanting to live, he briefly scoffed at himself.

Unbeknownst to him at the moment he deflected them, the trajectory of his fall changed. Leehwan widened his eyes as he saw the river rapidly approaching. He was still clad in armor and cloak, which would surely drag him to the riverbed if he did nothing.

He quickly loosened his cloak and cut the straps holding his armor with his sword. He also discarded his helmet. Fortunately, he was able to move in time. Relieved, Leehwan felt a weight lifted off him.

Just as he thought that, a harpy approached, its ashen wings carrying a foul stench. Leehwan straightened his sword, but in mid-air, a human is powerless.

Darkness enveloped the sky as red blood splattered. The harpy flew away with a satisfied laugh.

Splash!

A massive ripple spread through the dark river. Leehwan struggled to regain his senses in the icy water. Having faced death so closely just before his regression, he didn’t suffer much trauma from the fall, but he certainly didn’t want his second chance at life to end the same way.

Letting go of the sword he planned to abandon, he moved his limbs. Though he was short of breath, he endured. Soon, a faint light appeared above the water. With all his might, Leehwan swam upwards.

Splat!

“Gah! Hah, ha…”

He gasped for air as soon as his head broke the surface. It was like taking the first breath after birth. For the first time, the air tasted sweet.

With his body rigid from the cold, he struggled to move towards the shore. Only then did the pain from the harpy’s attack sting his back. Barely managing to swim to the shore, Leehwan used every ounce of his strength to crawl out of the river.

“That’s… it!”

The exclamation came as his whole body finally touched solid ground. It was his last bit of energy. Leehwan then lost consciousness.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

The warmth transmitted through his back was comforting. It was so warm that Leehwan wished he could stay nestled in this sensation and sleep forever. But the more he desired it, the more he surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness to reality.

Leehwan quietly opened his eyes. The first thing he sensed was the smell of wet earth and fallen leaves.

The next thing he felt was a slight pain. He remembered the wounds inflicted by the harpy’s claws. However, the pain he was currently experiencing was minimal compared to what he had felt before losing consciousness. Moreover, a spot on his back was unseasonably warm—a heat that could only come from a living creature.

Leehwan gauged the presence of the creature next to him. In its quiet presence, there was no hint of malice or ferocity, nothing that suggested an intent to harm.

Could it be a deer that had approached him? Perhaps it was the lingering drowsiness that made him feel so serene. He carefully turned his body, not wanting to startle the gentle beast. However, what Leehwan saw when he turned was not a deer.

In the darkness, silvery threads shimmered ethereally. Wide, deep blue eyes were fixed on him. Confronting those eyes brought back the last scene he had seen just before his regression.

It had been the same then. Absalom had looked at him with deep resentment in those eyes. Leehwan remembered that he had said something.

‘What was it?’

He remembered the silver hair soaked in the blood-red sunset, the expression filled with unknown madness, but not the words Absalom had spoken.

“That time…”

His voice, heavy with sleepiness, drifted off. Leehwan snapped back to alertness at the sound of his own voice.

Whatever Absalom had said on that cliff, did it matter now? Leehwan looked up at him, his mouth shut tight. Then, as if thawed from ice, Absalom began to panic.

“Leehwan! You’re, awake… You shouldn’t move yet!”

Despite Absalom’s warning, Leehwan ignored him and stood up. The wounds on his back should have caused significant pain with even small movements, but they didn’t, suggesting that Absalom had already treated them.

Had it been like this before his regression? Leehwan had once passed out and then woken up. The doctor who examined him said it was miraculous he could walk with such injuries. Back then, everyone said it was Iella who had cared for him.

If it was Absalom’s doing, then it was more magic than a miracle.

In this world, magic was a power not permitted to humans. But for a dragon, it was a different story.

According to legend, dragons could manipulate nature, command monsters, and decide life and death through magic. Had this been Earth, Leehwan might have scoffed, but this was another world. In a place where gods literally appeared and left evidence, mere magic was nothing to scoff at.

But knowing phenomena does not mean understanding their causes.

Leehwan was summoned by a god to stand against Absalom. If Absalom had any reason left, he might consider it more beneficial to leave Leehwan to die.

‘Why did he save me?’

To understand another’s actions, one must unravel their thoughts. Leehwan stopped thinking further.

It was all meaningless anyway. Whatever Absalom’s intentions had been, in the end, hadn’t he deceived Leehwan and led him to his death?

Leehwan brushed his unruly hair back. Absalom flinched with every move he made. Observing this, Leehwan decided to pretend he still didn’t know Absalom’s true identity.

“I remember falling from the cliff… Did you save me from that river?”

Absalom blinked and stared intensely at Leehwan, then shook his head.

“No. When I arrived, you were already lying on the bank. You must have crawled out on your own. I just pulled you a bit farther ashore, so there’s no need to thank me.”

Leehwan narrowed his eyes. It was a perfect opportunity for Absalom to make himself look good, but he didn’t take the bait.

“Still, it looks like I might need some treatment.”