Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 62

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 62

I tilted the cup slightly and let a few drops of warm water fall onto his wrist.

The water droplets touched his skin.

They flowed and spread.

It wasn’t hot.

It was warm.

Yurahel exhaled.

His chest fell slowly.

The silver spots quieted for a moment.

The flickering light settled as if it had stopped.

I opened my eyes wide at that quietness.

I didn’t look away.

“Look.”

I said.

My breath came in short bursts.

“Just for a moment.”

Yurahel said quietly.

His voice was careful.

“Even just for a moment is good.”

My words were simple.

I didn’t think long.

A moment becomes a path.

When it becomes a path, you can escape.

When you escape, you live.

I know that sequence.

My body remembers it.

Outside, the sound of wind grew loud again.

It pushed against the cabin walls.

The wood groaned low.

And very far away, footsteps stopped once.

Thud.

It was a cut-off sound.

Stopped footsteps.

Does it mean the priest found us?

Or does it mean he found the cabin?

I don’t know the answer.

Not knowing makes it scarier.

My heart beat violently.

My chest echoed from inside.

The wind scraped against the cabin walls.

It brushed roughly.

Snow moved with rustling sounds on the roof.

Small things kept scraping.

That sound was like little bugs.

I hate bugs.

They’re small and move suddenly.

I hated it so I curled up more.

I pulled my shoulders inward.

When I curl up, my breathing gets shorter.

My chest moves less.

My shortened breath sounded loud in my ears.

It echoed inside me.

My breath is also a trace.

I covered my mouth with my hand.

I pressed my palm against my mouth.

My hand was cold so my lips froze.

They hardened coldly.

When they freeze, speech becomes slurred.

My mouth doesn’t move properly.

I hate becoming slurred.

When you’re slurred, you get ignored.

When you’re ignored, you get abandoned.

I’ve experienced that too many times.

My body remembers.

Demian stood in front of the fire and listened carefully.

He barely moved his body.

His eyes didn’t look at the door but at the wall.

They were directed toward the wall.

Walls also listen.

Wood holds sounds.

Winter listens through walls too.

Cold air enters through gaps.

It brings sounds with it.

Yurahel sat next to me, holding his wrist wrapped in his hands.

His hands were layered.

The spot where I had dropped warm water was still wet.

It sparkled faintly in the light.

When it’s wet, the mark becomes docile.

It doesn’t act up.

I confirmed that again.

With my eyes, with my hands.

Lermiel sat leaning against the wall, catching his breath.

His back was touching the wood.

His breathing was still thin.

It didn’t continue for long.

Thin breathing seems like it might break.

Like it might be cut off.

I hate things breaking.

I hate the sound of things shattering.

So I looked for work to do again.

When I stop, thoughts come up.

When thoughts come up, tears come.

Inside the cabin was small.

The ceiling was low.

The air was compressed.

One room.

A little space like a kitchen.

A fireplace.

Two old beds.

One table.

And thin sheepskin on the floor.

The sheepskin’s fur was soft.

When my feet touched it, it sank down.

The sheepskin is warm.

It blocks the coldness of the floor.

When it’s warm, I get sleepy.

My eyes become heavy.

Being sleepy is dangerous.

My body stops.

I forcibly suppressed the drowsiness rising up.

I opened my eyes wide.

My eyelids were heavy.

A four-year-old collapses immediately when running at night.

Strength drains quickly.

I must not collapse.

Not now.

Demian spoke in a low voice.

The sound stuck to the floor.

“This is a temporary hideout.”

Hideout.

That word caught in my ears.

A place to hide.

Hiding is what I hate most.

If you hide, you get caught.

If you hide, you get dragged away.

But right now I need to survive.

To survive, I must hide.

I pressed my lips tightly together.

I swallowed my words.

A sound came from outside.

The sound of stepping on snow.

It wasn’t light.

It wasn’t heavy either.

It’s different from the Priest’s steady footsteps.

The rhythm is different.

I pricked up my ears.

The inside opened wider.

When ears get bigger, it’s scary.

All sounds come in.

Even if it’s scary, I must listen.

Not listening is more dangerous.

Demian seemed to have heard it too.

His shoulders moved just a little.

Strength entered his fingertips.

Frost formed again on his fingertips.

Thin ice bloomed upward.

When frost forms, a fight is coming soon.

Then the door was knocked very softly.

Tap.

Tap.

Three times.

It was short and evenly spaced.

The sound touched the door panel and disappeared immediately.

Three times is a rule.

At the Research Institute, they also knocked on doors three times.

It was this quiet then too.

Being quiet made it sound louder.

My heart sank down.

My chest dropped down with a thud.

The inside of my stomach emptied.

Demian raised his hand and signaled to us.

His palm waved low.

Keep your mouth shut.

Reduce your breathing.

I immediately nodded my head.

My neck moved slightly.

I made my breathing even shorter.

I only breathed in through my nose.

I kept my mouth closed.

A low voice was heard from outside the door.

It seeped inside through the door panel.

“Are you here?”

Is it a Priest?

It didn’t seem like it either.

The pronunciation is different.

The ending wasn’t pressed down.

Then Iden’s voice followed.

It came in overlapping.

“It’s the Count. Iden.”

That voice always has laughter mixed in.

The end of his words is soft.

It was mixed in now too.

It was a sound with breath slightly released.

When laughter is mixed in, you can trust it a little.

It feels like less ice is mixed in.

I still didn’t trust it right away.

If you trust, you get hurt first.

Demian quietly approached toward the door.

His soles swallowed the sound.

He put his ear to the door and listened to the breathing.

His ear stuck to the wood.

The scent of frost spread briefly.

A cold fragrance spread thinly.

The door didn’t open.

The hinges stayed quiet.

Iden spoke again.

The outside air brushed through the doorway.

“The Priesthood is sweeping through the forest.”

The sound cut off briefly then continued.

“They haven’t found anything yet, but they seem to be coming here soon.”

Those words were long.

The sentences connected together.

If it’s long, it might be real.

Lies come out short.

I judged it that way inside.

I learned at the research institute.

To look at the length of words.

Demian asked in a low voice.

His voice traveled along the floor.

“Are you alone?”

Iden answered from outside the door.

He didn’t hesitate.

“I’m alone.”

His breath didn’t waver.

“I sent the servant back, and I also erased the footprints in the snow.”

He erased the footprints in the snow.

Erasing takes time.

It overturns traces.

That’s difficult unless you’re Winter.

Iden is a fool, but he’s Winter Family.

Winter erases.

Hearing those words, my heart relaxed a little for the first time.

My chest lifted slightly.

If I relax, it’s dangerous again.

I clenched my hands again.

My palms pressed against each other.

Demian opened the door just a little.

A gap the width of one finger appeared.

Cold air seeped in thinly.

Iden’s face was visible through the gap.

White breath shattered in front of him.

He was still smiling.

The corners of his mouth were turned up.

But snow was stuck to his face.

Snow clung to his cheeks without melting.

If snow is stuck on you, you’re someone who really wandered around outside.

There was also a smell of smoke.

It was the smell of burning wet wood.

The smell of smoke means a fire was lit.

Fire is also used to deceive someone.

If you make smoke, attention goes there.

I looked at his hands.

His fingertips came in below the door gap.

His fingertips were frozen.

Under his nails was white.

When you’re frozen, it’s hard to lie.

Even if your mouth is warm, hands are hard to hide.

Lies come from warm places.

That’s how I felt.

Iden whispered through the door gap.

His voice became even lower.

“Young Lord, you must move right now.”

His words were urgent.

His breath was cut short.

Demian asked.

He didn’t take his eyes away.

“Why?”

Iden answered immediately.

He didn’t hesitate.

“The priest has planted holy markers at the crossroads of the Winter Forest.”

Holy markers.

That word scratched at my insides.

It was like a cold metallic sound.

Holy markers.

That word froze my stomach.

My insides tightened.

Holy markers gather scents.

They scrape and gather the air.

If they gather scents, they gather me.

They bind me.

My throat is dry.

The inside of my mouth dried up.

A dry throat is fear.

Fear seeks water.

I opened my mouth.

My lips cracked slightly.

“Where.”

The sound fell out small.

Iden looked toward me, his smile stopped briefly, and he called out kindly.

His eyes came down softly.

“Young master?”

I spoke firmly.

I put strength in my throat.

I pressed down so my voice wouldn’t shake.

“I am No. 1!”

It fell short and solid.

Iden smiled again.

The corners of his mouth went up more.

His eyes folded softly.

He said.

“You’re Rumel, aren’t you!”

His words ended with a light bounce.

I nodded my head.

“Mm, Rumel is right too!”

My mouth loosened a little then closed again.

“Yes, that’s a wonderful name.”

His voice was warm.

The air was less cold.

Saying wonderful is praise.

Praise is sweet.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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