RHH | Chapter 2.1

The hound runs toward the exit.

A small village located three days’ walk from Chavriere Mountain. A remote mountain inn welcomed its guests. The owner, dozing off at the counter, felt his sleep vanish instantly at the sight of the entering guest.

She was a beauty that could make anyone’s eyes widen. Her silver-like hair, deep blue eyes, and smooth, pale face all shone so brightly that the owner couldn’t look away, even though he knew it was rude. Her ripe, red lips parted slightly.

“Do you have a room?”

The owner doubted his ears. The beauty’s voice was so low that it was hard to believe it belonged to a woman. Only then did he notice the guest’s tall stature and broad shoulders. It wasn’t a beauty but a handsome man.

While the owner was speechless, the silver-haired guest turned to look behind him. Unlike the cold tone from before, a friendly voice now stuck sweetly to his ears.

“One room will do… Just kidding. I’ll take two.”

The guest wasn’t alone. The owner realized this belatedly.

The other guest was a man wrapped tightly in a dusty cloak, his head covered with a hood. It was a common attire for pilgrims seeking to atone for their sins, but this guest took it to the extreme. The only thing discernible about him was that his hair was black.

‘Black and silver, standing side by side. They’ll definitely stand out.’

That was the only thought the owner had about the other guest. His attention quickly returned to the silver-haired guest. The overwhelming presence of such a peerlessly handsome man was simply too much to ignore.

Two single rooms. Just one night. The owner guided the guests to the second floor. As soon as he pointed out the rooms, the cloaked guest suddenly reached out his hand. The owner, puzzled, heard the silver-haired beauty speak.

“Give us the keys.”

The owner handed over the keys, wondering if the cloaked man was mute. After all, the man hadn’t said a single word since entering the inn.

The cloaked man entered his room. The owner felt a bit pleased. Eager to chat more with the handsome man he’d never seen before, he spoke in a subtly inviting tone.

“Your room is here. By the way, what about meals…?”

Just then, a white finger snatched the key from the owner’s hand. Before he could react, the door opened and closed. Left alone in the hallway, he had no choice but to turn away dejectedly.

Leehwan, entering the single room, first removed his hood. He had grown accustomed to revealing himself rather than hiding, so it felt stifling.

He shook out his cloak through the window. A cloud of dust rose. Thinking about how much of it must have settled on his body made him itch. But as a fugitive, he couldn’t afford to do something as noticeable as taking a bath.

After hanging the cloak on a chair, Leehwan took off his shirt and examined his nearly healed wounds. He had noticed since yesterday that his recovery speed was astonishingly fast. Whether it was due to Absalom’s medicine or magic, he didn’t know, but it was a fortunate thing in his current situation.

Exhausted from taking only rough paths to save time, Leehwan lay down on the bed. Sleep overtook him instantly. He didn’t resist and closed his eyes.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, there was a knock on the door. Leehwan bolted up, reaching for his cloak first. But the voice that followed was familiar.

“It’s me, Leehwan.”

Leehwan put the cloak down and opened the door. Absalom stood there with a smile.

“What is it?”

“I brought this for you.”

Absalom handed him a water pitcher and a towel. Leehwan stared at him silently.

“The inn is small, so this was all I could get. If it were a proper place, you could’ve taken a bath…”

As Absalom said, the small inn made even a bath difficult under normal circumstances. The room was tiny, and without an attached bathroom, bringing in a bathtub was out of the question. In other words, what Absalom had brought was the maximum luxury Leehwan could afford in this situation.

“No.”

Leehwan took the pitcher and towel. After hesitating, he added.

“Thanks.”

Absalom smiled again, like a flower in full bloom.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

The next morning, Absalom stood in front of Leehwan’s door. It was past the time they had agreed to leave, but Leehwan hadn’t shown up. He knocked and asked.

“Still sleeping?”

There was no answer. Absalom knocked again. But the room remained silent. Could he have left alone? Briefly suspicious, Absalom checked for signs of life inside. He felt a familiar presence. Still, unable to trust it completely, he reached for the doorknob.

The door creaked open, revealing a room brightened by the light from the window. Inside, Leehwan lay face down, asleep. His breathing was louder and heavier than usual.

“Leehwan?”

Absalom, standing by the bed, reached out his hand. Just before it touched him, Leehwan opened his eyes. His usually sharp eyes, now darkened by the room’s shadows, glinted fiercely.

“What….”

Leehwan stopped mid-sentence, closing his mouth. His voice was low and rough, and his face showed surprise. Only then did Absalom realize the air in the room was thick with a sickly heat and humidity.

From then on, Leehwan began to fall ill. He insisted they had to leave immediately but soon quieted down. He knew better than anyone that it was impossible.

And now, on the third day, Leehwan was still confined to the bed.

His black hair was damp with sweat, scattered across the pillow. His pale face was occasionally twisted in pain, as if he were having a nightmare.

A wet cloth was pressed against Leehwan’s dry lips. Instinctively, he sucked on it. Even in his sleep, his strength was considerable, and every time his throat moved, Absalom’s hand holding the cloth twitched.

Absalom watched Leehwan’s neck. It was an unusual shade of wheat-colored skin, turning pale from the middle of his throat upward. A habit of always buttoning up to the top.

The usually tightly buttoned collar was now undone. Absalom’s thirsty gaze licked over Leehwan’s neck. The dry throat, the prominent veins, the pulse jumping under his ear, and the slender valley leading to his collarbone.

A delicate finger touched Leehwan’s neck. It soon crept downward. The thumb brushed against his throat as if caressing it. Just a little more pressure and… Absalom’s deep blue eyes glinted.

What stopped his impulse was none other than Absalom’s own hair. The silver strands flowing over his shoulders brushed against Leehwan’s nose. Tickled, Leehwan twitched his nose and mumbled. It was a small movement, but enough to snap Absalom out of it.

Absalom quickly pulled back. He shook his head like someone burned, clutching his hand.

“Thirsty….”

Leehwan was asking for water. Absalom brought the wet cloth to his lips again. But his hand trembled, still unsettled by his earlier impulse. A drop of water fell from the cloth and trailed down Leehwan’s cheek.

This can’t happen. Taking care of Leehwan. That was Absalom’s only purpose. He wet the cloth again and pressed it to Leehwan’s lips. His hand still shook, but he managed.

High fever and body aches. Those were Leehwan’s symptoms. Absalom guessed it was the accumulated fatigue finally catching up. As the Messenger of God Iella, Leehwan had been fighting non-stop since he was nineteen, standing before the public. It was only natural he’d be exhausted.

The Messenger of God Iella, the First Sword, the Knight of Salvation. Even the name Alexander, given as a reward, carried the meaning of “Protector of Humanity.” These titles, while grand, revealed the Empire’s expectations of Leehwan.

Despite the glorious titles, Leehwan now lay in a shabby inn room. The cramped space, barely fitting a bed and a chair, had rotting wooden walls and a moldy smell. The contrast was almost pitiful.

“Leehwan….”

A sigh escaped Absalom’s pomegranate-red lips.

If only he could receive proper treatment, but a small mountain village like this had no doctors. Even if there were, Leehwan’s situation made it difficult to call for one. For the first time, Absalom felt a sense of helplessness.

Absalom placed his hand on Leehwan’s forehead. The temperature felt through his palm was still quite high. But it had dropped significantly compared to the first day.

Then Leehwan opened his eyes. His light brown eyes turned toward Absalom.

“What time is it….”

The low, rough voice tickled Absalom’s ears. He swallowed hard without realizing it. Hearing the sound, Leehwan frowned. Absalom quickly spoke up.

“You asked what time it is? It’s been about two hours since lunch.”

In a few more hours, it would be three full days since they arrived in this village. For Leehwan, who had faked his disappearance, this was far from ideal. He tried to sit up.

“No.”

Absalom grabbed Leehwan’s trembling wrist. Leehwan shook his arm. He probably wanted to break free, but in his current state, it was impossible. Absalom, holding firm, pushed Leehwan’s shoulder with his other hand.

“You know this. You need rest.”

“No time for this.”

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. If you move now, you’ll just fall ill again in a few days. Resting properly here and then moving is more efficient.”

Leehwan closed his mouth, his eyes showing discontent. He knew Absalom was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. So Absalom decided to help him make the choice.

“If you don’t lie down willingly, I’ll make you lie down.”

Leehwan glanced at Absalom’s hand. The white, delicate fingers held an iron pitcher tightly. Sighing, Leehwan lay back down and pulled the blanket over his head. He turned his back to Absalom as if in protest. Absalom set the pitcher down and smiled wryly.

“Just kidding. I could never hit you, Leehwan.”

Absalom stared quietly at the blanket-covered mound. He remembered the time he was allowed to accompany Leehwan. Thinking about it now, it was a fortunate thing. Otherwise, Leehwan would have been sick here alone, and he would have known but couldn’t do anything.

A stubborn person. Verbal promises could be ignored, but Leehwan didn’t do that. Maybe he didn’t even consider ignoring it as an option.

Absalom turned his attention back to Leehwan. His breathing had slowed.

“Leehwan, are you asleep?”

No answer came. Absalom stood up. Leaning over the bed, he saw the face not fully covered by the blanket. Taking a deep breath, he caught Leehwan’s scent. It was a mix of the heat and dampness unique to the sick, but to Absalom, it was more splendid than the fragrance of a king’s garden.

“Leehwan, are you really asleep?”

Again, Leehwan didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry for forcing this. But I wanted to be with you like this.”

Absalom lightly rested his forehead against the blanket-covered mound. His chest felt strangely cold.

The moment Absalom’s forehead touched his arm, Leehwan opened his eyes. He shuddered but calmed himself. After all, he would have to travel with Absalom for a while. It was better to get used to it.

To distract himself, he thought about the current situation. The Phoenix Knights had a rule limiting the search for missing persons to three days. But Leehwan’s position was different from an ordinary knight. They might search for a few more days.

That’s why he had tried to get as far away from Chavriere Mountain, the site of his disappearance, but now he was stuck here. It was even more frustrating because the delay was entirely his fault.