Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 155

Chapter 155

“‘I said I needed time to think.’

‘What are you going to think about?’

‘If my thoughts were tidy enough to tell you, I wouldn’t be asking for time.’

‘Medeus.’

‘What.’”

Nataek clasped Medeus’s hands tightly. Standing there facing each other for a long time, he felt Medeus’s expression grow increasingly sullen—yet he also sensed his mood slowly loosening.

“I have something I want to say. If, after hearing me out, time is still needed, I’ll step aside.”

“…Speak.”

Nataek took one step closer.

“When arguing or making peace, I don’t avoid a lover. If there’s room for misunderstanding, I want to resolve it through talk. If you leave now and come back with thoughts different from my heart, what then?”

In a soft, low voice, he soothed Medeus.

“And saying you need time to think… leaves room for me to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand? How?”

Medeus replied with a flustered look. His tone was somewhat calmer; the softened eye corners and slackened shoulders showed he was far more at ease than just before.

“It sounds like you want to re‑consider our relationship.”

In ordinary modern relationships, “I need time to think” often implied “I might need to consider breaking up.” As Nataek continued, Medeus began to glare.

“Re‑consider our relationship? Why say that? …Were you thinking that?”

“No, that’s not it. Only that it can sound that way…”

“Absolutely not. How could a small quarrel… lead to that so easily. I worried about you—why jump there?”

“I’m not saying I truly thought so—only that the words can be heard that way—”

Suddenly, Medeus pulled Nataek into an embrace.

“No. …No. That’s not it. I didn’t mean that at all. I finally have you—why would I think that?”

Nataek had meant to cut off any chance of misunderstanding; instead, he had only fed Medeus’s anxiety. Startled, he hugged Medeus back.

“No, I’m not saying that’s what it is. I mean, it’s—hah.”

Medeus clung even more desperately.

“No. I had no such intent. Don’t misunderstand.”

He felt the white cheek against his neck. For a love between two grown men, the end reached after anger and attempts at clarity wasn’t very adult. With the patience used to soothe a clinging child, Nataek patted Medeus quickly.

This isn’t why I brought him back in.

“Teresi, don’t misunderstand. I don’t want to break up with you.”

“Yes. I know. Me neither. Sorry—I spoke poorly.”

“I don’t want to break up. I absolutely don’t.”

Hearing that low murmur, a stone seemed to weigh down Nataek’s chest.

Since it’s come to this… there’s nothing else for it. While I remain here, I’ll just have to do my best.

“…Yes. Me too.”

The weight of guilt pressed heavily.

Knowing nothing, Medeus was desperately taking part in a process that led toward parting. Conscience pricking, Nataek squeezed his eyes shut.

Knock, knock—

As they held each other, a knock sounded.

“I’m coming in.”

The princess’s voice. Nataek tried to pull away, but the arms wouldn’t let go. The door swung open.

“I brought herbs first…”

Eyes wide, the princess looked between the two men holding each other.

“Have I… intruded?”

“No. There’s nothing to intrude upon.”

Nataek answered quickly, tapping Medeus’s back. Only then did Medeus slowly release him; the clinging look flipped in an instant, and he fixed the princess with a calm gaze.

“The physician?”

“It may take a while. I brought herbs for now—shall I leave them?”

“Give them here.”

Medeus took the basket from her arms. The princess watched them discreetly with curious eyes, then gave a small nod, as if something had clicked. From recent frequent conversations, Nataek knew she wasn’t someone lacking perception.

“Then I’ll wait outside.”

It seemed she had taken the scene as confirmation of the men’s relationship. The thought sent a flush to Nataek’s ears. As the princess turned and set a hand to the door, a symbol on her cloak caught his eye—the emblem of the cedar. Seeing it brought the vial he’d retrieved to mind.

“The adversary revealed his weakness in the Cedar Forest.”

He recalled the epic line from Lagab’s box. The Cedar Forest—Zagros—was closest to the princess’s city of Delam. Perhaps she knew the vial’s contents.

“Your Highness, a moment.”

He called her back. Both her curious gaze and Medeus’s sharp one fixed on him.

“There’s something to ask you both.”

It wasn’t exactly a topic to break off reconciliation for, but this too couldn’t wait. Nataek took the wrapped bundle from the table. Unwinding the carefully tied belt revealed a slim vial.

“Do you know what this is?”

He briefly explained the glass vial’s importance—that it had been hidden deep in Lagab’s quarters and thus seemed important to him. The princess examined it first, easing the stopper open to smell it.

“This… smells like birim sap.”

She passed it to Medeus. As soon as he held Lagab’s vial, he shed the fragile look entirely. He smelled it, then tipped it to taste.

“It is birim sap. And there’s juice from hyang leaves mixed in… Teresi, this was truly in Lagab’s quarters?”

“Yes. I fetched it myself.”

The princess tilted her head, chin in hand.

“Birim sap is a commonly used medicine in Delam. When winds blow from the Cedar Forest, powder comes with them. That can cause a variety of ailments; we use this then.”

Powder from the forest? Powder from a plant—pollen was all that came to mind. Connect that to “variety of ailments,” and… pollen allergy…

Medeus took another sip.

“When symptoms are severe, you mix hyang leaf juice into the birim sap. If it’s to the point of adding hyang leaves, the case is quite serious.”

“Indeed. But why would such a thing be in Lagab’s bedchamber…”

Nataek took the vial back, sniffed it, and turned the clue over again.

“The adversary revealed his weakness in the Cedar Forest.”

A weakness in cedar… Lagab’s weakness in the Cedar Forest… Could it really be something like an allergy?

Other than being a light drinker, he’d never felt illness from food or environment. He’d never personally experienced an allergy; he didn’t know how severe it could be.

An allergy—an odd match for a brute like Lagab—but it was the only possibility.

He looked to Medeus.

“What if Lagab is vulnerable to cedar powder?”

The princess and Medeus looked at him at once.

“It’s entirely plausible.”

“It isn’t impossible. In Delam, children and adults alike—some are vulnerable to cedar powder, some aren’t. That could include Lagab.”

Nataek looked down at the hard‑won clue. An unbelievably paltry, unimpressive weakness—but the most likely. He gripped the vial.

If it’s come to this, there’s nothing else for it. Bet on this. Use it to attempt Ur’s reconquest.

“Medeus. What if we use cedar powder in the Ur campaign?”

“Scatter this in Lagab’s face, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

At that moment, certainty rose within him.

[Quest: Lagab’s Weakness completed.]

[Main: ‘Kish’s Mole’ story completed.]

That trifle was truly Lagab’s weakness?

Hollow, absurd—but there was no time to dwell. Timing would need discussion, but if Lagab reacted severely to cedar powder, they could exploit that gap. Ordinary methods would not do; to have any chance at Ur, they had to use the revealed weakness aggressively.

Hope surged—that they could win. With resolved eyes, Nataek stared at Medeus. With a short sigh, Medeus turned to the princess.

“Where are the soldiers? And call everyone. We’ll begin the operations council here at once.”

The princess went immediately to summon them. As the door thudded shut, Nataek clenched the vial and muttered softly,

“That bastard Lagab… this is payback for the filth you did.”

The words slipped out in a rush of heightened feeling.

“Filth?”

Medeus asked in a hard voice.

“What filth. Did Lagab do something to you?”

…!

He’d said it facing away, barely above a whisper—Medeus heard it like a ghost. Calming his jolting chest with effort, Nataek answered,

“No. What would he do—he threw punches.”

But Medeus’s reaction was not normal. He seized Nataek’s shoulders and whipped him around.

“What did that bastard do to you?”

“I traded blows. That’s why I look like this.”

Even so, Medeus did not lay aside suspicion. His white thumb began insistently rubbing Nataek’s lips.

“Teresi, between lovers there must be nothing hidden. No lies.”

With a deadly gaze, he stared at Nataek’s mouth.

“Don’t tell me he touched you.”

“In a fight, getting grabbed is normal.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took the vial from Nataek’s hand as he asked. Nataek realized again: Medeus’s instincts were unusually sharp. Having pinned him not to lie, he couldn’t hide it. He pressed his lips together in silence.

“I’m asking if Lagab smeared saliva on your lips and put hands on your body.”

“Medeus.”

“Answer. Did he touch you?”

Ah. Why does everything tangle like this. Is this part of Ur’s difficulty, too?

Hesitating, Nataek finally told the truth by half-measure.

“I just… head‑butted him. And I didn’t only take it—got him back, properly. With the fighting you taught me, I landed one—”

Before he could finish, a crack sounded in the vial Medeus held. His gaze had never been more lethal.

“…”

This time, Nataek truly had no words. Medeus seized both his arms hard. The vial hit the floor and shattered, but Medeus did not care.

“Lagab… with those filthy hands, he lusted after you.”

“Lusted is too much, he—ngh.”

Now his hand took Nataek by the jaw. The touch that had been tender turned rough; with a brutal grip, Nataek’s head was forced aside. Medeus stared at the cut on his lip and the swollen cheek as if seeing them for the first time, rage blazing.

Startled by the sudden change, Nataek couldn’t help it.

“Medeus…?”

“He… coveted your mouth—put hands on your cheek…”

The pressure on Nataek’s arms increased. This was not the Medeus who had feared breaking him and barely dared to touch. As Nataek dropped his gaze, unsure how to respond, his body was jerked forward.

“Med—mmph!”

Medeus covered his mouth. He bit and chewed at Nataek’s lips as if tearing bread. It was less a kiss than being devoured. With his arms pinned, he could not retreat; he had to bear Medeus’s weight with his mouth.

Hey, Medeus! Is this a kiss or are you trying to eat me!

Nataek thumped his fist against Medeus’s side, but he didn’t budge. Only after feasting his fill did he pull away. Around Nataek’s mouth, a furious red bloomed, as if he had sucked at a bottle’s neck.

“Haa. Medeus… h—”

Through his parted lips, a tongue darted in. The probing tip drove through his mouth wildly; tooth clicked against tooth under the force. There was no time to calm him; Nataek, bound fast, could only be consumed by those red lips.

“Lagab will die by my hand.”

“…At least be careful with your body while you fight.”

Nataek spoke through swollen lips, red and puffed like a fish. Medeus looked at them with a satisfied expression, then clenched his fist as if unable to master his fury.

“You stay away from Lagab.”

“Yes. I’ll cover your rear.”

The quarrel had begun as mutual worry and the misunderstandings piled between them—

“Don’t let him lay a hand on you. Ever.”

“…”

When he came to his senses, all they’d produced was a Medeus burning with zeal. Whether that would help or harm Ur’s reconquest, Nataek could not tell—and felt only more uneasy.

But however worried, they could not slow the work. The fortune was that, after desperate persuasion, Nataek had won permission to take part in Ur.

By the time their kissing ended, people had begun gathering, and there was no time to breathe before the operations council began. Present were Shuran, Nammuwa, the elite who had aided the escape, and Nataek, Medeus, and the princess. With not even half a day to spare, the council opened.

First on the agenda was Lagab’s weakness. The princess added support.

“The cedar powder weakness is not absurd. In Delam’s cities near cedar forests, more fall ill. The Guti dwell near those forests as well—quite plausible.”

Listening in silence, Shuran added,

“Even if it isn’t, cedar powder aids ignition well. If used, it could bolster our force.”

On the second topic, replenishing manpower, Nammuwa and the elites spoke.

“The archer captain and infantry captain surely see this coming. Before sunrise, I’ll go and deliver the plan myself.”

“The Ur soldiers have suffered long in the works yards. There will be wounded and holes in their ranks—we’ll gather the Kish troops garrisoned here.”

Medeus decided.

“There is no time. Once he’s set, Lagab will cross the marker without delay. We must not allow even a single step of entry. If our walls become the bastion of close fighting, driving them back will grow hard, and entering Ur all the harder.”

He feared the Ur campaign might lean toward defense rather than attack.

“We must enter Ur first and succeed in seizing it.”

“Agreed!”

A ringing shout filled the small tent. With everyone’s assent, planning and execution moved swiftly. Before the stars faded from Uruk’s sky, they scattered to their tasks and labored without pause until the next moonrise.

Thus, within a day, preparations to strike Ur were complete, and Nataek returned to the marker near Ur’s gate. But even after a day, the killing aura on Medeus’s face had not faded—if anything, it had thickened. Whatever the cause, strong feeling clouds cool judgment. At last, Nataek spoke.

“Medeus. If you’re expending needless thought over what happened between me and Lagab—truly, nothing happened. You need not worry.”

Only fury returned.

“Do not speak his name alongside yours.”

“…”

He wasn’t merely angry; he was livid. Unsure what to say, Nataek held his tongue.

Unlike other city‑states, which had broad plains or fallow lands between borders, Ur and Uruk lay unusually close. This too was why Medeus had hurried the plan to retake Ur; if Lagab chose, it would take less than half a day to cross Uruk’s line.

Nataek absently patted his kunga’s side.

“Do well. Don’t make mistakes.”

Frrr.

The kunga blew as if in answer. A sack woven of straw and cloth lay slung at its side; inside was cedar powder. Its task was to scatter the powder throughout Ur. To avoid exposure, Nataek, Medeus, and all the soldiers had their noses and mouths bound with coverings.

In the dark, under the stars, gathered near the marker, the soldiers held their breath, steadying their resolve.

Standing beside the marker, gazing ahead, Medeus slowly turned to Nataek.

“Teresi.”

“Yes.”

“Before we go—let me ask once more.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“Can you not grant me this one request? I understand your wish to protect me—but understand, too, my wish to protect you.”

“Then we protect each other. I won’t send only you. On this, I will not yield.”

At last Medeus wore a resigned look. They had circled this since yesterday; on this, he could not best Nataek. With that one line, he realized there was no stopping him now.

Nataek clenched his kunga’s reins.

“Medeus. There’s also something I must say before we go.”

With the whisper of cloth, he felt Medeus’s gaze.

“I have always wished for the unification of this land—but I do not wish for you to be hurt.”

“The same for me.”

No one ends a war with not a hair harmed—but Nataek wished it, deeply.

“Let us both return safely.”

As Nataek mounted and lifted his head to the sky, red smoke rose from Ur’s gate.

“It’s the vanguard’s signal!”

Shuran and the elites had successfully opened the gate. Medeus and the cavalry, and the kungas aligned in the dark, pawed and cried.

“Hyah!”

At the snap of reins, the kungas thundered into a gallop. As they raced for the gate, a bright light flashed in Nataek’s vision.

[Main: ‘The Last Puzzle’ story begins.]

[Quest: ‘Retake Ur’ begins.]

Ur—the last city of Sumer’s Anunnaki for Nataek to conquer. And the final gate before the Hittite War. The moment to end it all had drawn near.