MTO C50

Chapter 50

Heart circled the area for a long time before approaching. He wanted to be absolutely sure his pursuer had been shaken off.

Only the hiss of winter wind reached his ears. Certain he was alone, he crouched before a large boulder. With quick hands he swept aside the brittle leaves he himself had scattered to disguise the spot.

Perfect.

Beneath, the gap of the stone yawned open — within it lay a mound of jwi‑myeoneuri berries. A secret cache. Heart wiped the sweat from his brow despite the frigid air.

He’d found it by accident, probably a hoard some foolish squirrel had forgotten. In the past he would have called the other children to share and feast on the spot. But now, he was the only one who desired these berries.

Plucking a firm black fruit, he cracked it open with his teeth. Though plentiful, one eaten wouldn’t affect victory. The pulp inside was soft, earthy, staining his fingers black and tasting unpleasantly dry. He forced it down his throat anyway.

At that moment he recalled the Headmaster’s earlier words—

“I’ll surely win today… and tonight we’ll cut the cake together.”

What cake?

Until now, Heart had only known the heavy barley loaf, sticky and dark, eaten once a year when his parents lived. They had been poor, but merry. From them he had learned which mushrooms were safe, how to track monsters, how to survive their traces. Those lessons let him live still.

But they hadn’t survived. Monster hunters, they were killed, their bodies torn. Heart had seen it. Since that day, he swore never again to show fear, no matter what stood before him — monster or “devil” Headmaster.

“…Never flinch. The moment you lower your eyes, the beast will strike.”

—His parents’ teaching, though they themselves fell to beasts.

He hadn’t feared, not then, not since. He would not bow, not to demons wearing human masks.

Heart gathered greedily, filling the basket until it overflowed. Enough to ensure the Headmaster’s expulsion.

Then… faintly, the echo of Oliver’s words whispering returned:

“Tonight we’ll cut the cake. Everyone’s waiting. Leon’s so excited.”

His hands froze.

He imagined the looks that would follow his victory. Barbara Sister would despair, the children would glare. Some would curse him. Leon… would he cry?

Heart shook his head furiously. Crying never lasted long. Leon was small; a little kindness and he would come crawling back. If the Headmaster was gone, Leon would return as a shadow to him again. The others too. They’d have to forage for food themselves, and then beg him, the master of the woods, to feed them.

Yes—when they realized who held real power, even cowardly Oliver would crawl.

“You’re hopeless.”

That hateful memory jabbed deep like a stone in his heart. Heart clenched his fists, scooping even more berries.

Flattening to the ground, he thrust his arms deep into the unseen crevices of the rock. His fingertips scraped something rough.

He pulled—and drew out a transparent, net‑like skin.

A snake?

He had seen many shredded snake skins before, but never one like this. Enormous, like mesh woven large enough to swallow his own body whole. Such a snake would swallow every small animal here. Even a squirrel.

Shhhhhh—

The hiss down his spine made him whirl.

“Heart? Come out, I won’t be angry. Where are you?”

Michel’s voice softened in absurd singsong, like a bird coaxing a mate. No answer. Only deepening snow, crunching under each step as he ventured further.

He bundled the red cloak more tightly against the wind. Forest shadows were bleak; daylight weakened. Worry gnawed: what if Heart truly lost his way? Night fell fast in winter.

But no—he reminded himself. Heart knew the woods. The boy was clever enough to stake a wager on summer berries in frozen season. Getting lost was not the risk. Losing the bet… that was the risk.

Maybe he had already filled his basket and returned? If so, Michel would lose without contest. He hadn’t found even one fruit. He might really be forced to leave the orphanage.

Time for the “secret weapon.”

His plan had been to tail Heart and steal his tricks. But that had failed. So he drew out the pouch of walnuts, recovered after Heart had flung it away. There were fewer now, but still enough.

He crouched, spilling them into his palm.

“Come to me, tasty walnuts! As fine as two friends devouring until one drops!”

He chirped in parody, trying to lure animals. Oliver had remarked that the fallen berries were long eaten by small beasts. Then perhaps, follow beasts to find where they hoarded them. He felt guilty about robbing them — but if he offered walnuts in trade, perhaps that was fair?

Michel strutted about, imitating a squirrel’s squeaks, peering up trees, into burrows. No animal answered. Yet he found another trail—grooves dragging in snow, as though by a sack or sled, but no human prints around.

Curiosity piqued, he followed.

And froze.

What awaited was a nightmare. Crawling in the clearing, tongues flicking, scales rippling—

A monster. Like a cobra, but tenfold larger, its body splitting into three heads. It coiled with awful majesty.

Hhhssssh!

It swayed, striking tongue against the air—at an orphan boy with a basket for shield.

Michel nearly screamed. His breath caught violently. He recognized the figure.

Heart.

Could he possibly kill such a monster already? Never! He had no weapon, no chance. That serpent’s full length was twice his size. A scrawny child was scarcely worth a snack.

Please, just stay still!

Michel frantically scanned for stones to throw, anything for distraction. If he could only grab Heart and run—

“G‑get away!” Heart suddenly screamed, hurling a rock.

It struck useless against scaled hide, bouncing off.

But it roused fury. The serpent shrieked and lunged, jaws opening wide.

Michel shot forward like a cannon, launching his heel. His kick slammed the beast’s belly.

CLANG!

A sound like steel struck. The monster rolled, flailing, coiled in pain.

“Ow—!”

Even Michel staggered, clutching his foot. It was like kicking a metal pillar.

But for the boy, it had been salvation.