The artist collapses, their body hitting the floor.
With a smiling expression, the artist met death, immersed in poison. As their body gradually rotted and withered away, Ereta looked at Aslan who had concealed TRAMISOV’s Beast behind his back.
At the same time, various emotions flitted through the woman’s mind like fleeting winds.
What the woman had newly realized and what she had just come to understand conflicted, causing turmoil that eventually settled, leaving her to force a smile.
Ereta had lost her mother. Unlike what she had thought before, she had truly lost her now.
To the extent that yesterday, when she thought she had been abandoned, seemed preferable, Ereta’s feelings were both pitiful and weary.
The battle had just ended. Having exhausted her emotions and skills to the fullest, Ereta felt as though she might collapse and faint at any moment.
Meanwhile, poison was seeping into her, enveloping her densely.
She could endure it thanks to rebirth, but Aslan did not seem to be faring as well.
Aslan. The one who saved Ereta and was now collapsing and dying—his condition was far from normal.
His ankle was shattered and crushed, looking more like a lump of flesh than an ankle, and his left arm was stripped of skin, appearing grotesque.
On top of that, his right arm, having absorbed the acid poison moments ago, had turned into a trickle of blood.
Watching such a state of Aslan, Ereta realized something.
Now all she had left was Aslan and the grand goal he represented.
Instead of confronting the loss, the woman chose avoidance at its end.
When the smiling woman stepped forward and suggested they return, saying everyone would be waiting and worrying for them, it was within this context.
It was simply because Aslan had no intention of doing so.
“Aslan, you’re tired, aren’t you? Let me help you up. Please…”
“Ereta.”
And the intent Aslan harbored was vividly revealed without any attempt to conceal it.
The emotion emanating from his voice, the deep fatigue. Ereta twitched her shoulders and looked at Aslan.
A look filled with some kind of resolution. Ereta froze while still smiling and slowly regained her composure.
“Don’t.”
Aslan turned his body at the involuntary tone, and Ereta shook her head and stepped back.
To escape the expression on Aslan’s face.
Aslan approached Ereta, stepping on his battered ankle, staggering closer.
“Don’t… I don’t want to hear it.”
Ereta said as she retreated.
Where there should have been Ereta pressing for explanations and Aslan reluctantly explaining, it was the opposite.
Behind this oddity lay the scene Ereta had hoped for.
Ereta had expected Aslan to say he was tired, that he felt like he was going to die.
She had hoped he would express gratitude for her help or ask if she was hurt.
She wanted him to speak kindly as usual, as if nothing had happened.
She wished to turn away from the truth confronting her.
Ereta wanted to boast about the newfound power she had obtained, to change the subject.
She wanted to tell him not to worry, that she could recover him fully through regeneration and life force infusion.
Without mentioning anything about how she acquired it earlier, she simply wanted to return to their companions.
And she wanted to continue their journey.
For a day, two days, a few weeks, perhaps even a year.
She wanted to live with the dream and kindness Aslan showed her, forgetting the current scene and the lie Aslan told.
She wanted to dilute the pain and swallow it, pretending nothing happened while listening to the truth and forgiving it.
That was the horizon Ereta desired.
“No.”
That was what Ereta had hoped for.
However…
Ereta soon realized that Aslan wasn’t the type of person who could do that.
She remembered that despite everything, she was extremely exhausted and had lost much.
That accepting the truth now would be difficult.
“Stop!”
Kwaooo!
The heat expelled soaked the ground, pushing away the pool of poison. The scorched fumes swirled and drifted in the air, halting Aslan’s advancing steps.
Ereta scrunched her face, her moist eyes brimming with tears, staring at Aslan.
“Please, please stop.”
And she pleaded.
“I don’t want to lose Aslan…”
Fearful of the future ahead, she shrank her shoulders and let her axe droop.
“I don’t want to lose this journey, Aslan, or the others. This is all I have left… So please, stop. Don’t take it away from me.”
“…Ereta.”
“Stop talking. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to!”
Emotions surged involuntarily, and Aslan silently watched her.
Despite her pleas, Aslan softly spoke, heavy only in heart.
“Ereta.”
It was a gentle yet sharp remark.
“I lied to you.”
The very thing Ereta didn’t want to hear right now.
“The spider of fire did not…!”
“Enough! Stop it!”
So Ereta unleashed flames. The surging flames wrapped around her, and Aslan closed his mouth.
The flames did not harm Aslan. They disappeared cautiously before touching him.
Ereta lifted her head beyond the flames.
The figure that filled her pink pupils was not the usual Aslan.
The convulsing arm due to poison. His left arm barely holding shape through wild magic, his right arm melted down to nothing but a shoulder.
The pale face that had already faced death. Confronting death, Ereta’s tears flowed.
The first emotion that arose was guilt.
Because of Ereta, because Aslan fought risking his life to protect her, he stood right in front of her.
Next came fear. The fear of possibly losing Aslan too. Ereta gripped her axe until her knuckles turned white and trembled slightly.
Ereta couldn’t understand Aslan.
If she heard the truth and harbored murderous thoughts toward Aslan, why was he doing this?
Why was he doing this, knowing she might attack in anger and kill him?
From what she had experienced living together, the Aslan standing before Ereta now had reached his limits.
Aslan’s body was not in a state to withstand equalization.
If Ereta attacked now, resistance would be impossible. Aslan would inevitably die.
Yet, he was trying to tell her the truth.
All Ereta could do was cry.
There was no way she could harm Aslan.
She couldn’t harm the only precious being left to her.
Quietly shedding tears, the woman spoke with a trembling voice.
“Please, please stop. I don’t… I don’t want to hear it.”
She didn’t want to dislike Aslan.
She wanted to like Aslan.
So she said,
“Do you hate me, Aslan? Would it be better if I hated you and tried to kill you?”
And with those words, the dam broke, collapsing like water rushing out, emotions pouring forth.
“What am I to you, Aslan?”
Dropping her axe, tears streaming down her face, she asked.
“Why did you lie to me?”
Covering her face after finishing her sentence, speaking more would cause her pain, and seeing Aslan more would feel like torture.
Aslan did not offer a single excuse while watching Ereta. He remained silent.
Time passed, and after a long while, the woman finally raised her head to look at Aslan.
Aslan stood above the poison pool, evaporated by Ereta’s heat, silently gazing at her.
The moment their eyes met, Aslan spoke.
“Ereta, do you hate me?”
Though unexpected, the answer was already decided.
“I don’t know… I don’t know…”
Her mother was irreplaceable to Ereta.
Ereta loved her mother.
Even if their relationship wasn’t as correct as Ereta imagined, even if her mother was an evil deity.
Ereta loved her mother.
The mother whom Aslan killed.
Aslan, who should naturally be hated or despised.
Ereta couldn’t hate such an Aslan.
It was all just emptiness.
Because the man she loved had broken the woman she loved.
It was all just emptiness.
That was why she could grow fond of Aslan, travel with him, and build equal relationships with her companions.
So Ereta didn’t know.
It was just complicated.
Without a way to summarize her emotions or the leisure to do so, Ereta shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Aslan approached the woman.
He moved forward without hesitation despite the swirling heat and flames.
Stopping in front of the woman, he met Ereta’s gaze steadily.
The tired green eyes and the tear-soaked pink ones met. When Ereta opened her mouth slightly, Aslan spoke.
“Taking you in might have been a clear mistake.”
Tears flowed uncontrollably. Clutching her chest, the woman listened as Aslan continued indifferently.
“Just as you said before… You’ve killed many people who didn’t want to die.”
Meeting Ereta’s eyes, Aslan carried on. A sense of determination lingered in his weary eyes.
“Clearly, what you’ve done is wrong, and the sins you’ve accumulated still weigh heavily on your shoulders. You… are a sinner.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
That must have been his decision. As Ereta cried and clenched her fists in fear, Aslan smiled gently.
“No.”
Stretching out his hand, he cupped Ereta’s cheek.
His poorly functioning left arm, convulsing from poison, cold to the touch. With that left arm, Aslan caressed Ereta’s cheek and wiped away her tears.
While wiping away her tears, Aslan said,
“Clearly, taking you in was a mistake. It wasn’t right. But… I don’t regret it.”
When Ereta’s tears subsided, Aslan softened his smile.
“I need you.”
As Ereta cried again, Aslan chuckled helplessly.
“The spider of fire never abandoned you. It was me… who deceived you. I’m sorry.”
With that helpless smile, Aslan apologized.
Without a single excuse, he simply and stubbornly apologized.
Ereta found it absurd despite her tears.
He could have made excuses if he wanted.
It would have made sense to say he did it because she might betray him, eliminating the possibility entirely.
Had she known her mother hadn’t abandoned her, Ereta might have betrayed him.
But he didn’t. Aslan didn’t make such excuses.
Alternatively, he could have used her affection.
He could have whispered sweet nothings now, saying he couldn’t do it because he loved her.
Ereta would have fallen for that too.
But he didn’t.
Aslan apologized for his wrongdoing.
That was all.
Ereta couldn’t understand it.
“…Why…?”
The words slipped out. Her voice, dampened by tears, sounded wet and intimate. Aslan smiled as if it didn’t matter and answered.
“You’re important to me. I don’t want to lie to someone important.”
It was a flickering, fragile smile like a lantern about to go out.
Underneath that smile, Aslan pulled Ereta close with his poorly moving arm.
Clutching onto Aslan’s back unknowingly, Ereta embraced him tightly.
Despite the thick poison, Aslan’s scent permeated from his large embrace.
A fragrance she would never forget until her dying day.
Burrowing her face into his chest, Aslan whispered softly.
“Hate me if you want.”
Ereta couldn’t hate Aslan.
“Despise me if you want.”
Ereta liked Aslan.
“Regardless of how you feel… stay by my side.”
Knowing Aslan was all she had, she couldn’t leave.
“Ereta, I need you.”
Hearing those words, Ereta felt relief.
And while feeling relieved, she also cried.
Because those weren’t the words she wanted to hear, they were nowhere near her vague hopes.
Still, she leaned towards his whisper involuntarily.
Realizing she had no choice but to like Aslan, knowing she had failed herself completely.
She could do nothing but cling to Aslan and cry.
“Coward…”
Her only reproach amidst her tears was all she could manage.
