Chapter 156
The Empire’s winter comes quickly and darkly.
Just after a skirmish, the sky casts a layer of black veil over the earth. The tombstones in the graveyard emerge faintly beneath the veil, while the scattered skeletal remains are obscured from view.
The dining table is gone; it died at the hands of the female necromancer.
Weylin feels quite sorry about it but still takes some jerky and carrots from the caravan to cook a pot of stew for Akarnis.
The black pot sits over the campfire.
Flames lick the bottom of the dark pot, and steam rises from the soup inside, with bubbles constantly surfacing, turning the potato and carrot chunks.
Weylin scoops a spoonful; the firelight illuminates her delicate face. Although even boiling water wouldn’t harm her, she still blows on it before putting it in her mouth.
Outside the glow of the fire, Akarnis’s face appears. He steps into the light with a smile, humming a tune, with a bit of blood on his fingers.
Weylin asks, “You’re back? How did the work go?”
“It went smoothly; he wasn’t as tough as he sounded,” Akarnis smiles and says, “He spilled everything right away.”
“Perfect timing, the stew is ready,” Weylin takes out a ceramic bowl. “Do you want to eat?”
“I’ve been smelling it and waiting for that kid to finish his talk,” Akarnis throws the blood-stained implements onto the wagon.
“Don’t toss your things around.”
“I’ll organize it later,” Akarnis scoops several spoonfuls into the ceramic bowl and sits down on the caravan.
Weylin takes a bowl for herself and sits beside him.
The cold winter wind blows in, and they hold the warm ceramic bowls in their hands. The fire in the black pot casts a warm glow on his thighs and Weylin’s profile.
Akarnis feels completely relaxed, as if he has returned to the home of his childhood. Although it was shabby and damp, and they often went hungry, there was always a mother waiting at home for him, and a pot simmering away.
Weylin’s voice pulls Akarnis back to reality: “Is it good?”
“I haven’t eaten yet,” Akarnis snaps back to attention, scooping a full spoon, holding it up; it’s steaming in the winter wind. He blows on it several times before managing to take a bite.
“Delicious,” Akarnis says.
“I’ll make more next time,” Weylin says. “Akarnis, do you really hate nobles that much?”
“Yes,” Akarnis replies while eating. “Just seeing their polite demeanor makes me angry.”
“Why?”
“Think about it, some noble lounging at the main table, everyone else sitting at their designated spots according to rank. Servants standing by, serving delicious food and drink. Meanwhile, outside in the streets, we’re frozen and exposed, it’s infuriating.
“Every time I see nobles hosting banquets in their grand houses, I want to set fire to it all, lock the doors. Watching the smug smiles fade from their faces, seeing them panic and flee, it’s just hilarious.”
Weylin seems a bit worried; after all, she considers herself a noble as well, and asks, “Have you ever set fire to one?”
“Of course I have! A splash of oil, and up in flames, it was spectacular, even prettier than fireworks,” Akarnis laments. “If I had met you sooner, I would have taken you to see the nobles’ mansions burn.”
Weylin brightens up, “There will be a chance in the future.”
“There won’t be,” Akarnis sighs. “My boss is the emperor.”
“Why do you have to listen to the emperor? Isn’t he the noblest of the nobles?”
“Because he’s my boss.”
“Then tell me about the last time you burned down a house.”
“Have you heard of Shalin City? You probably haven’t; it’s just a garbage city.” Akarnis says, “When I was young, there was a plague in our slum, and the lord, Bransi, that jerk, sent people to seal off our area, shooting anyone who came out with arrows.
“I didn’t die from the sickness, but I almost starved; I survived by eating others. Later, he sent people to burn the slum down; I didn’t die, and I thought about how to burn down the noble district as well.
“Luckily, I met a cursed friend, that succubus; she was shorter than you at the time. Using who knows what, she drove the whole city mad, and that gave me the chance to take a bunch of people and burn down the noble district.
“Some tried to stop me, saying when Bransi burned my home, it was for the sake of the whole city, that it was necessary, that he did nothing wrong, and that I couldn’t burn it down now.
“I said he was wrong; he was wrong to burn down the slum; otherwise, I wouldn’t be leading people to burn down his family today. Ah, I was really happy then. After that, I led a group to kill the guards, stormed into the luxurious mansion, and burned all the finely carved furniture, watching the house go up in flames, it was a sight to behold.”
The more Akarnis spoke, the more animated he became.
Weylin listened, her expression growing serious. After a long while of Akarnis rambling, he finally sensed something was off and asked, “Weylin? Did I make you unhappy?”
“Listening to you, it sounds like it was beautiful when it burned.”
“Of course,” Akarnis said, “the white wooden houses look best when they burn. The ashes fall onto the cleanly polished, bright white cobblestone roads; it’s really a sight to behold.”
Weylin asked, “Did the succubus see the beautiful scenery of the fire with you?”
This question felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over Akarnis’s head.
He replied, “She had a rough time, stuck with that big oaf in white armor. They ran to put out the fire and ended up donating all the mountain of gold from the demon lord’s treasury they found to rebuild the city.”
Weylin said, “But you still watched the beautiful fire scene together with her.”
Akarnis chose to remain silent, picking up his ceramic bowl and eating the lukewarm stew.
Weylin hummed softly, leaning in to wrap her arms around Akarnis’s waist, finally feeling a bit reassured.
As they ate, he suddenly hit his head and said, “I almost forgot.”
Akarnis stood up, rummaged around behind him, and pulled out a crossbow. The front of the arrow was wrapped in oil-soaked cloth. He loaded the crossbow, lit the arrow tip, and placed it on the weapon.
“I almost forgot about the execution by fire; they must be freezing to death by now.”
Weylin replied, “They probably escaped long ago.”
“How could that be? People don’t escape that easily,” Akarnis said. “Is your wound okay? Let me see.”
But you managed to escape quite quickly.
Weylin lowered her collar, revealing her bandaged neck, the blood staining the white bandage. She said, “It should have scabbed over.”
Akarnis reached out to touch it.
Weylin shrank back as if electrified, saying, “It hurts.”
“As long as it’s fine,” Akarnis lifted the crossbow, aiming at the darkness not far away, saying, “I’ll let you see how fierce the fire burns soon.”
He pulled the trigger, and the ignited arrow soared into the dark woods, exploding with a loud bang. In the blackened woodlands, a blazing torch ignited, the golden flames consuming two bodies, casting light that illuminated nearly the entire withered forest, as well as the bones scattered on the ground.
The screams of the man and woman only lasted a moment before fading into the crackling sounds of the fire.
Within the golden flames, two black silhouettes tightly embraced one another.
Weylin watched the dancing firelight and the couple in the flames, softly saying, “So beautiful, now I’m watching the big fire with you.”
“Yes.” Akarnis wanted to put the crossbow away but noticed Weylin’s hand had tightly wrapped around his waist.
Akarnis gently lowered the crossbow, holding her close, gazing at the glow from the woods.
Luckily there were no passersby in this remote wilderness; otherwise, they would be frightened to death.
