04

Tas Village lay to the southwest of Silve Village.

News of Silve Village’s destruction by the Gairin Empire’s invasion reached Tas Village quickly.

“We’re heading to Silve Village with a small group.”

Evan, the young leader of Tas Village, set out from the village with several people, including his daughter Silica.

Their purpose was not blind hope. Of course, it would be best if the village still remained, and finding survivors would be a blessing amid tragedy.

However, judging from the reports that had reached them, they could only expect devastation.

That was why—

“We’re going to recover supplies needed to survive the winter! We’ve had ties with that village for a long time, so this is painful, but we have to live too.”

The men who set out carried large bags meant for collecting supplies, with Evan and Silica leading the way.

Every face was grim.

Some of them recognized familiar faces in their memories. If Silve Village had not existed, Imperial soldiers might have come to Tas Village instead. If that had happened, the scene they were about to witness would not be someone else’s tragedy.

Before the sun fully rose, they arrived at the place where Silve Village—had once stood.

“Th-this is…”

“…Horrible.”

Evan and Silica were left speechless.

Every house had burned down, and pitch-black corpses carpeted the surroundings.

The men who arrived behind them took in the scene—some vomited on the spot, some collapsed to their knees, and some felt a deep, shameful relief that it had not been them.

“…Split up and search for supplies. I know this is hard for you too, Silica, but this is for the village. I’m counting on you.”

“……”

There were almost certainly no survivors.

Everyone nodded silently.

Following Evan’s orders, they each began searching.

“That all of this happened in a single night…”

Silica walked while surveying her surroundings.

She had turned twelve this year and was not yet an adult, but as the daughter of Evan, the young leader, she was already involved in village affairs.

Her hair was cut short above her shoulders, the color of golden wheat shining in autumn fields. Her slightly upturned, dignified eyes already carried the resolve to govern herself. Though precocious, her physique was still immature, lacking the softness of womanhood.

“There’s hardly anything we can take back.”

The bags they had brought might not even need to be half full.

Even so, they gathered unburned wood, swords that could be used with maintenance, and arrows.

After finishing a full sweep of the area, Silica stretched her body.

That was when something caught her eye.

It was a house that had burned down like the others.

But unlike the rest, it had collapsed as if destroyed by an external force, piled up like a mound.

“…There’s something here.”

It was intuition.

Not based on evidence, nor on wishful thinking.

As if guided by something unseen, Silica stepped toward the pile of rubble.

Standing before it, she could tell it had indeed been destroyed from the outside.

The wooden pillars had shattered as if broken from within.

She pushed aside the still-smoldering debris.

The wood, long since drained of life, crumbled easily under even a small force.

With her hands blackened by soot, she parted the rubble—and found a person.

“!”

The face was dulled by ash, but not burned.

“Hey! Are you okay!? Are you alive!?”

She desperately called out, but there was no response. Perhaps it was already too late.

She placed a hand near the boy’s mouth.

…Breath. There was breath. Faint, barely clinging to life, but he was alive.

“…Someone! Father! Come here!”

I found someone alive!

Silica’s voice echoed through the eerily silent, dead village.

Evan and the others froze, then rushed to her side.

“Is it true, Silica!?”

“He’s breathing! If we don’t help him now, he’ll really die!”

There was no way his daughter would lie in this situation.

Evan immediately issued orders, and the men began removing the rubble covering the boy.

Evan felt a terrible premonition. Cold sweat ran down his back.

“…Silica. Step back… move away from here.”

Silica wondered why, but if her father said so, there had to be a reason. She stepped back.

All the debris covering the boy was removed.

“……”

The men were at a loss for words.

The boy was breathing. Without a doubt, he was breathing.

Yet it was as if he had returned from hell to the living world by sacrificing countless things—

“…Silica. You may come closer, but be prepared. And since you’re the one who found him, you will take responsibility for this child.”

Hearing the weakness in her father Evan’s voice, Silica sensed something was wrong.

She forced her hesitant legs to move, passed between the men, and reached the boy and Evan.

“!”

“This child is definitely alive. No—he has survived. But with no other survivors from the village, he must live on with this body. In this age, this body is too cruel. Perhaps it would have been better if he had died.”

“……”

Silica’s shoulders trembled, her legs gave out, and tears streamed from her eyes.

She was crushed by overwhelming guilt—guilt for dragging him back from the depths of hell, for binding a dying boy to the living world and forcing a cruel life upon him.

The boy, sleeping as if free of all worry, had lost his left leg below the knee and his right arm beyond the shoulder.

This was the meeting between Ains, who had returned from hell, and Silica, who had pulled him out of it.