From Inside the Village
Just a quiet and strange village; no one knows who lives in it—are they really humans?
On a dark night, hours before the destruction of the kingdom.
Everyone in this village was killed, and their blood was scattered in every corner of it.
The village was desecrated for no clear reason and met the most horrific fate with it. The stench of rotten flesh spread through the air, while its center became a dumping ground for decaying corpses.
From afar, darkness approached the village, following the gray light.
Above the corpse of a villager whose body had half-decayed, a pale-faced thief sat, wearing torn clothes and possessing a weak, thin body. His eyes were miserable, dark circles visible beneath them, and features of fear and regret appeared on his face.
"I just feel that we wasted our time. What did we gain from killing the villagers in the first place? We should have continued our path and left the forest," said the thief in annoyance.
The thief threw his rusty metal sword away from him and sighed.
"Everything here doesn't make me feel even a shred of comfort. Neither the villagers seem normal, nor does the forest that resembles haunted houses. I wish I hadn't come with you in the first place."
Regret possessed him, and fear controlled his heart. He wished his foot had never stepped a single inch into the forest.
"Why did you come with us if you knew you would regret it, Sairo? Do you think we would just take that item and leave without doing anything? Are you living pink dreams these days?"
Responding to Sairo's regret and complaints, the second thief—annoyed by Sairo—answered as he pulled his corroded sword from the body of another dead villager.
He did not look different from Sairo; his body was filthy, his silk clothes dirty, his eyes swollen, his lips gray, and his ugly face similar to his arrogance.
"In the end, it's a village outside the empire, and it's exposed to attack and annihilation by any other bandits besides us at any moment."
Sairo looked at the second thief who tried to justify their act by saying that if they hadn't done it, someone else would have come and done something worse.
But Sairo knew that what they had done was merely a show of strength against people who had nothing to do with them. Now he just wanted to run away, but he couldn't. What had happened had happened and was over.
"Shut up, Naoki," Sairo replied calmly to Naoki's foolish explanation.
The thief Naoki took out a piece of white cloth to wipe the blood from his corroded sword.
"What do I see?" He noticed something strange, and when he stared at it—
He saw a dead body whose face bore a twisted smile; the corners of its mouth were curled, its rotten tongue visible, and its face wrinkled.
Upon seeing it, Naoki threw the cloth and collapsed to his knees, his expression changing from mockery to fear and panic.
"Where is your strength and your heavy talk you used to speak with, Naoki?"
Sairo laughed at Naoki's sudden fright.
"Shut up, I saw it smiling."
"Who is smiling?"
"When will your arguing end and you stop babbling?"
In front of Naoki appeared a tall man with a strong build, messy brown hair, and black eyes, wearing long clothes similar to the other thieves.
That man waved his sword, pretending to be strong.
"Stop interfering in what doesn't concern you," said Sairo, showing his anger and hostility toward that person.
"When did your tongue appear, Sairo, so you can tell me not to interfere?" the angry thief replied to Sairo with rage.
"This is none of your business, boss. I despise those who pretend to be strong. In the end, you are a big insect among small insects, pretending to be strong—but when someone stronger than you comes, you will flee with us."
Sairo looked at the thieves' leader with hatred; he was the first to start the attack and drag them along.
"You are not yourself, Sairo." As he spoke these words, he clenched his hand from the intensity of his anger.
Sairo stood up and dusted off his cloak.
"I apologize, but I hate hypocrites like you," Sairo spoke to the leader, mocking him unusually.
"Damn you, Sairo. Since you regret it, why don't you go to the forest and guard us while we sleep here until morning? Leave before us," the leader exploded at Sairo, becoming even angrier.
"Fine, but your staying here alone is proof of your fear, coward. Goodbye."
Before leaving, Sairo mocked him, making all the thieves laugh at their leader, while the leader felt such anger that he wanted to cut Sairo's body with his sword, but he was unable to do so.
At midnight
The thieves camped near the destroyed village.
Because of the thick fog, visibility from afar was almost nonexistent.
In moments, even nearby trees became difficult to see.
At the same time,
The thief Sairo felt mixed emotions between joy at venting his anger on the one who caused it and fear of the dark forest,
And the thought that at any moment he could become food for creatures whose nature he did not know.
This equation made Sairo freeze, unable to express his feelings.
With every second, his fingers trembled, his chest tightened, and his body shivered as he thought.
Sairo looked at a leafless tree, its branches dead and its roots exposed—everything indicated its death. That sight increased his sadness.
"Why this silence? I don't feel safe here."
Sairo could not express more than that; even he could not describe his fear—he simply did not know why he was afraid.
Amid all his thinking, he raised his head and found that the tree had disappeared without any explanation.
Sairo moved to its place, and when he arrived, he felt the forest gradually distancing itself from him.
"Why am I not afraid?" Sairo saw people watching him from behind the trees.
He approached them but found no one.
"I still can't believe what I did. Even if the villagers were not normal, what does that have to do with me? Why did I attack with those thieves? And minutes ago I was sitting on a corpse and speaking normally."
Sairo felt distressed. It was his first time taking a life. He realized now that he had begun to go too far—crossing the stage of theft and becoming a killer.
"At first, I treated my mistake as if it were normal, but no matter how much I regret it, there is no one to forgive that act." As Sairo said this, he pressed his hand to his chest from the intensity of his sorrow.
Sairo looked up again and found the tree had returned.
Sairo was shocked by what he saw.
"How did the tree return after it disappeared?"
From behind the tree appeared a human hand gripping it tightly. Sairo stepped back.
"Who are you?"
A young man appeared, wearing a blue silk robe and brown trousers, limping and panting from an injury he had just sustained. At a glance, Sairo recognized him.
"You are from this village."
"Yes… I am from the village of Morinaka. Can you help me? I fell while on my way back."
From his words, Sairo learned the name of the village.
Sairo approached the young man to help him—this was a chance to compensate a small part of what he had done.
"Right, Morinaka is the name of another village. Are you sure of this village's name?"
Sairo asked, suddenly feeling uneasy; that young man's behavior was strange.
"No, I am not mistaken about its name."
Here, Sairo froze in place and realized something dangerous.
From his side, the young man looked at him with complete calm.
In moments, immense darkness emerged from his body, surrounding Sairo, who could not utter a single letter before the darkness swallowed him.
The darkness extended and drew closer.
End of the chapter