Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 112

Chapter 112

“Wow… Is this insane? He’s not going to end up waking the entire town of Kish, is he?”

Unlike the time when he had gone to obtain the potion from the marksman, Nataek was wandering aimlessly this time through the civilian district of Kish. It was a dark night, and even with the help of moonlight, finding his way was no easy task. One of his hands gripped a lantern to guide him through the darkness. By squeezing out whatever information he could from the few attendants or guards he occasionally ran into, Nataek was barely able to locate the herbalist’s house.

When Nataek knocked on the door in the middle of the night, the herbalist, of course, looked utterly baffled. But there is no merchant in the world that cannot be moved by money. Nataek handed over the entire pouch of silver he carried, and only then managed to barely receive the “Healing Potion” quest.

“Delivered gemstones to the blacksmith, a knife to the fruit seller, a fruit basket to the cloth merchant… gave linen sedan cloth and wool blankets to the baker… gave bread to the smelter, and next… if I bring first-class Geshutin¹ to the potter then…”

Back when he was a player, the only potions Nataek ever really used were basic HP potions. Healing Potions were troublesome to obtain, and he had never felt they were strictly necessary, so he didn’t even spare them a glance. Now, he was beginning to understand very clearly why he had never bothered with them before.

“Now it’s the potter’s turn, huh? Wow… just how far are they going to make me run errands?”

He had already been wandering for more than three whole hours. The wretched thing about this quest was that the crafting process required endless deliveries instead of simple material gathering. But in all this misfortune, there was at least one stroke of luck: even if he knocked on their doors in the middle of the night, the merchants, these NPC-like characters, did not find it strange. Otherwise, Nataek would have been thrown out immediately or forced to sit begging at someone’s doorstep until dawn broke.

“This isn’t even gambling with borrowed cards, this is downright making me run in worthless circles! You’re putting me through hell, so at least give me something truly effective at the end!”

He was growing desperate. Medeus must not be lost. He absolutely must not. That man, who had lived nothing but a life of hardship—he could not be allowed to end this way. Nothing else filled his mind except the image of Medeus lying sick in his bed.

What would become of me if something happened to him?

There was no way he could let it end like this. Grinding his teeth, Nataek sprinted toward the home of the potter. Following the route the smelter had told him, he searched through alleys until—

“The blue window!”

Catching the sight of the blue-shuttered window that reflected the moonlight, Nataek took off in that direction.

“Yes… There it is!”

His legs felt like they were going to burst after running non-stop through the cold dawn winds. But whatever pain Medeus was enduring, it was surely worse than anything Nataek could imagine. Even catching something as meek as the flu had once made him feel close to death—how much worse must Medeus be suffering now?

So he didn’t even think about slowing down. He ran with everything he had, pounding on the door of the potter’s house. After this, the final destination was to return once again to the herbalist.

Deep night in the village of Akkaldia².

Medeus awoke from his sleep and instinctively reached beside him. But the space where there should have been warmth was empty.

Still half-asleep, Medeus rubbed his eyes and sat up. Looking around the dim room, his mother was nowhere to be seen. After glancing around hurriedly, Medeus slipped out from under the blanket and put on his shoes, fumbling as he went. Quietly, he headed toward the entrance.

When he opened the reed-woven door, the stillness of the night wind brushed across his cheek. The sky was so clear it seemed as if not a spec of dust could linger there, and stars bloomed like clusters of misty flowers. Moonlight spilled softly across the yard beyond the wall. Medeus slowly walked toward the gate, the crunch of dirt under his feet marking his steps.

“Mom…?”

Gripping a pillar of the wall that was taller than himself, Medeus carefully pushed the gate open. Peeking out shyly, he spotted a familiar back. Seated on a low mound of earth just beyond the house was Anna³.

“Mom, what are you doing there?”

Anna, who had been gazing vacantly up at the sky, slowly turned her head. Her bright hair fluttered in the night breeze, and her pale eyes—so much like Medeus’ own—were heavy with thought.

“Medi, you’re awake?”

Dragging his half-worn shoes across the ground, Medeus came to her. Without a word Anna patted the spot beside her. He sat with a plop, pressing his small body tightly against hers.

“Mom, aren’t you cold?”

“No. Why did you come out?”

“I woke up and… you weren’t there.”

Anna gave him a brief glance as if inspecting him, then turned her gaze skyward again. Medeus looked between her and the dark sky before asking cautiously.

“Can I ask… why you’re here?”

That little note of carefulness in his voice brought a soft laugh to Anna’s lips.

“Because I was remembering the old days.”

“The old days?”

“Yes.”

Looking down at her small son, Anna pulled him into her lap. The seven-year-old Medeus was small for his age, his growth unusually slow. Thanks to that, he could still be held snugly in her arms.

“A long time ago, before you were born, I used to live somewhere else. There, too, at night, I could watch the moon and stars. Whenever I look at the sky here, just at this time, I almost feel like I’m back in that place.”

As she spoke, her eyes lifted again, filled with a hollow and aching longing. Medeus fiddled with his hands for a while before whispering another question, timidly.

“Do you… want to go back there?”

Anna said nothing. She only kept her eyes on the sky. Medeus waited quietly for an answer, his fingers twitching, restless. Perhaps he read her heart in that silence, for soon his eyes welled up. His lips jutted out like a pouting duck’s beak, and beneath his chin a small bump formed from holding back emotion. Reaching carefully, he tugged lightly at the hem of her clothes.

“Please… don’t go.”

He wanted so badly not to cry, but his young heart wasn’t strong enough to command itself. Heavy tears spilled thick and fast from his eyes.

“Don’t go, Mom.”

At last Anna lowered her gaze to him. A sigh mingled with a faint smile as it spread over her face.

“As if I could leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

With her warm palm she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Really?”

“Of course. Oh dear, what am I going to do with how easily you cry?”

“I don’t cry. If you don’t leave, then I won’t cry.”

“Right. I won’t leave. How could I, when I have Medi here?”

“You must never go.”

Clinging to her as if she were the most precious treasure in the world, Medeus hugged her with all his fragile strength. He didn’t know that her promise was one that could never be kept; he only pressed his overheated cheeks against her chest, as if rubbing against her warmth could secure her presence. But the more he pressed in, the more that comforting warmth seemed to slip away. Puzzled, Medeus slowly lifted his head.

“Mom…”

But before him was only the pitch-black sky. The lone red light flickering in the distance was the only trace of presence left in this void. Suddenly, Medeus realized he was alone.

“Mom?”

He tried urgently to stand. Or rather, he tried to. But his limbs were bound tight, refusing to move. He shook his head wildly, twisting with all his might, but his body obeyed nothing. His vision started spinning, flickering, then dimming—like consciousness itself was breaking apart. Over and over he blinked furiously, desperate to hold on.

“General, are you awake?”

“This is serious. His fever won’t go down. We’ll need to try another herb. I’ll fetch it from the saddlebags—you go replace the water with something hotter.”

“Yes, understood.”

As the attendants and physician hurried out, leaving gasping Medeus behind, the door closed with a bang. And as if that sound alone was a signal, he suddenly found his body could move again.

Blink—his eyes opened onto the ceiling. Blink again—beside him. Only emptiness. Nothing filled the chamber but himself. Realization struck: where he was, when it was. And with that came the thought of one person alone.

“I’ll never leave your side, Medeus.”

“Teresi…”

The space he checked with his eyes lay cold. His searching fingertips touched upon no one.

“I couldn’t leave Medi, not anywhere.”

“Teresi…”

“I’ll stay as your ally through anything, no matter what. Even if everyone else disappears, I alone will be right by your side.”

“Teresi… Teresi…”

“So please, take me with you.”

“Where are you…?”

Staggering, Medeus forced himself upright. To him, promises were always just fragile, doomed things. The promise to remain, the promise never to leave—all of them had always ended in betrayal.

Even Teresi’s vow to stay by his side would one day shatter. If that sudden ending arrived now, if tonight happened to be that day…

His eyes burned red. The thought of never again being able to see Teresi crushed him under waves of grief.

With a thud, the sword propped against the bedside slipped and fell. He had always carried it as his one means of protection, but today he didn’t even think to take it. Blinded by panic, Medeus stumbled outside. The soldiers of Kish, drunk on their victory, kept weak watch that night.

When Medeus walked out of his quarters, there was no one there to stop him.