Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 68

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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 68

My throat is dry.

My mouth has dried up.

The dry throat is from fear.

It dries up because the inside is constricted.

Demian grabbed my coat string higher up.

The position of his hand moved up.

It wasn’t pulling, but a grip trying not to let go.

I walked without putting strength into it.

That grip felt somewhat reassuring.

My back wasn’t empty.

When reassured, the heart becomes loose.

Strength drains away.

I clenched my hands tightly to avoid becoming loose.

I folded my fingers harder.

My palm ached.

The skin was pulled taut.

It stung more because it was after being soaked in water.

Coldness remained.

Still, I clenched my hands.

I didn’t let go.

Yurahel exhaled a long breath beside me.

His chest moved greatly.

That breath touched the stairs and spread white.

The air looked like snow.

White breath is a trace.

It remains.

I spoke immediately.

I lowered my voice.

“You need to breathe quietly.”

Yurahel looked at me and nodded.

Our gazes met briefly.

His wrist was still hidden inside his sleeve.

It was pressed and wrapped inside the cloth.

Even when hidden, light sometimes leaked out.

It spread thinly through the gaps in his sleeve.

I hate the leaking light.

If it shows, we get caught.

I pressed down the end of his sleeve to block the light.

I covered more cloth with my fingertips.

Yurahel spoke quietly.

Almost no sound came out.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

And I immediately added.

I cut off my breath and connected it.

“Quickly.”

Lermiel climbed from behind, dragging his feet.

The sound of stepping on stairs continued weakly.

Every time he swallowed his breath, thin coughing mixed in.

It was a sound caught in his throat.

I gritted my teeth because I hated the coughing sound.

Strength entered my jaw.

Coughing is sound.

It bursts between breaths.

Sound gets us caught.

It spreads.

If caught, we get captured.

Distance disappears.

Because I hated being caught, I gestured to Lermiel.

I didn’t move my arm greatly.

Gestures shouldn’t be big.

They shake the air.

I moved only my fingers very small.

Just folding and unfolding them.

Lermiel saw that and nodded.

His movement stopped then continued again.

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and held his breath as he climbed.

He stepped on the stairs while covering his mouth.

That sight bothered me.

The inside stopped for a moment.

When bothered, you waver.

Your gaze gets pulled backward.

I only looked ahead to avoid wavering.

I raised my eyes upward.

Iden stopped in front.

His feet stopped on the stairs.

He raised his hand to stop us.

His palm quietly rose.

I stopped immediately.

I put my feet together.

The moment I stopped, wind brushed from above.

Air came down below.

When wind brushes, it’s outside.

There’s an open place.

If it’s outside, it’s snow.

The bright side.

If it’s snow, it’s water.

It accumulates coldly.

Water presses down marks.

It sinks light.

I breathed a little while thinking of that.

I inhaled briefly.

Iden pressed a small groove in the wall.

His finger touched the exact spot.

The blue crystal’s light went out once then turned on again.

Light drew lines on the wall.

Blue light connected at regular intervals.

The lines formed the shape of a door.

The boundary became clear on the wall surface.

The door slowly opened.

The interlocked parts moved as if splitting apart.

Cold air swept across my face.

It came down from above.

I blinked my eyes.

My vision wavered briefly then steadied again.

I didn’t dislike the cold air.

My face cooled down.

Cold things keep you awake.

My mind became clear.

Staying awake means staying alive.

I held onto that thought.

Outside the door was a small space.

It wasn’t wider than the corridor.

The ceiling was low, and there were wooden boards above.

The boards were layered and blocked off.

Snow was thinly wedged between the wooden boards.

White could be seen through the gaps.

Snow falls down to here.

It gets pushed in from above.

Then the forest is right above.

I looked up.

I tilted my neck back.

Black branch shadows swayed through the gaps between the wooden boards.

Thin lines overlapped in view.

It’s the forest.

The top opens up.

My heart relaxed a little.

My chest lowered.

Relaxing is dangerous.

Strength drains away.

But I relaxed anyway.

Even if briefly.

Iden whispered.

The sound was barely audible.

“This is a ventilation shaft at the Winter Fortress Exterior.”

Ventilation shaft.

A hole where air comes and goes.

Top and bottom are connected.

If it’s a hole, scents also come and go.

They don’t get blocked.

If scents come and go, priests can smell them.

Traces remain.

I suddenly became urgent again.

When urgent, words become short.

I reduce thoughts.

“Get out.”

I said.

I threw out just one word.

Demian nodded his head.

He moved immediately.

He grabbed the ring under the wooden board and lifted it.

His hand caught the ring precisely.

The wooden board lifted quietly.

There was almost no friction sound.

Iden reached out and sprinkled thin snow on the wooden board.

Snow scattered over the gap.

Since falling snow could make noise, it seemed he covered it first to muffle the sound.

He pressed the surface.

Winter does things like this.

It swallows sound.

I liked that.

Demian climbed up first.

He raised his arms and pulled his body up.

Next was Yurahel.

He reached down and pulled him up.

Next was Lermiel.

He climbed up a bit more slowly.

I didn’t like being last.

The back becomes empty.

The last one gets caught.

I stamped my feet and said.

My toes hit the floor.

“Me first.”

Demian spoke quietly from above.

His gaze came down.

“Not now.”

I didn’t like the word “not.”

It felt blocked.

But his voice was firm.

It didn’t waver.

When firm, it can be trusted.

I stuck out my lips.

My lips protruded forward.

Pouting is a four-year-old’s rebellion.

It sticks out small.

But I climbed up anyway.

I raised my hands and grabbed the edge.

The moment I poked my face above the wooden board, snow touched my cheek.

Cold particles brushed against me.

It was cold and soft.

It touched as if breaking apart.

There was no snow at the Research Institute.

There wasn’t any inside there.

I became dazed for a moment.

My gaze stopped.

Being dazed makes you late.

The body becomes slow.

I immediately pulled my body up.

I put strength in my arms and climbed up.

Outside was the winter forest.

Trees stood upright.

Black trees and white snow overlapped.

Trunks and snow created layers.

Moonlight spread thinly over the snow.

The surface glittered white.

When I breathed in, my nose stung.

The cold entered inside.

Even though it stung, it was good.

It didn’t hurt.

I breathed in that scent.

Not shortly, but deeply.

Trees.

The scent of something not wet.

Snow.

The scent of cold air.

The scent of distant beasts.

It was faintly mixed in.

The priest scent was still far.

It hadn’t come this way.

Not yet.

There was distance.

I hate the word “not yet.”

Someday it will get closer.

But now is still not yet.

Now I can endure.

Demian raised his hand to make us crouch low.

His palm pressed downward.

We lowered our bodies into the snow.

Knees and hands touched the snow.

Iden crawled forward and held up his fingers.

His fingers extended briefly.

Three.

A signal meaning three.

I perked up my ears.

I gathered the sounds.

Footsteps could be heard from far away.

The sound of stepping on snow.

It was a pressing sound.

Two.

If it’s two, it could be servants or patrols from the priesthood.

I lowered my breathing further.

And I calculated inside.

I counted the numbers immediately.

‘It’s two people.’

I matched the intervals of the footsteps.

If we avoid the two, we’ll be fine.

If we clear the path, we’ll be fine.

They seem like priests, so if we avoid the two, we’ll live.

I lowered my breathing further.

Iden led us behind a tree.

We changed direction while staying low.

He wasn’t smiling.

The corners of his mouth didn’t move.

Iden not smiling is unfamiliar.

The expression that was always there is gone.

Even if it’s unfamiliar, it’s good for now.

He doesn’t waver.

We entered a small cave-like space under a tree.

It was hollow beneath the roots.

It was big enough for us all to fit if we lay down.

Snow had already been cleared there.

The ground was exposed.

It was a spot someone had prepared beforehand.

I breathed a little easier.

I took short, divided breaths.

Then Yurahel’s wrist glowed faintly again.

It spread thinly from inside his sleeve.

A single point holding light was visible inside the sleeve.

It leaked through the fabric.

That point stood out more as it reflected off the snow.

It was more visible because the surroundings were bright.

I immediately grabbed snow and rubbed it on Yurahel’s sleeve.

I gathered snow in my hand and pressed it down.

The snow gradually began turning to water.

It melted in my hand.

I put that moisture on my fingertips and pressed the edge of his sleeve.

I covered over the spot where the light was.

“Breathe.”

I said.

I cut it short.

Yurahel exhaled long.

His chest moved greatly.

The point subsided a little.

The light sank inward.

I nodded.

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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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