Chapter 315: Trauma and departure
"Father, why do you always teach Lex and Luke how to hunt? Is it necessary that only a man could be a good hunter?"" Laila remembered asking as a child, pouting because she wanted to explore the forest with them.
Back then, her father had agreed to take her along.
Not to teach her how to hunt.
But to teach her something far more fundamental.
How to kill.
...
"Haah... haah..."
The body beneath her trembled violently, growing weaker with every passing second, yet Laila never loosened her grip.
One hand clamped over Mila’s mouth, muffling every scream, while the other slowly drew a blade across her throat. A deep crimson line opened beneath the edge, and warm blood poured from the wound.
Mila thrashed desperately.
Of course she did.
Anyone would struggle when their life was being stolen.
Laila could feel Mila’s hands trapped beneath her knees.
The very same hands that had prepared dinner for her last night.
The same girl who had laughed with her only a day ago, sharing a warm conversation as if they could become good friends.
Now she writhed like a fish dragged onto dry land, her body convulsing in a desperate fight against death.
Even then, Laila never let go. She had promised Luke that she would take care of this.
She kept one hand firmly over Mila’s mouth, smothering every scream before it could escape, while her knees pinned both of her arms to the ground without allowing even the slightest movement.
Beneath her trembling fingers, Laila felt Mila’s skin growing colder.
The pool of blood spread across the floor.
The light within Mila’s eyes slowly faded until nothing remained.
Laila witnessed every second of it.
She felt every desperate struggle.
She had killed someone.
...
"Haah... haah..."
Laila jolted awake, her breath ragged as she instinctively looked around.
It had been a dream.
No.
A memory of what she had done the previous night.
Her frantic gaze swept across the room before settling on her mother, with Roxanne sleeping nearby.
The familiar sight slowly steadied her racing heart.
Everything was fine.
She had done the right thing.
....
Everyone had eaten, freshened up, and was ready to depart.
Monica felt guilty for sleeping in so late, but Luke had reassured her it was for the best. During the journey, there would inevitably be times when he needed to rest, and someone had to remain alert inside the carriage.
Now, he stood before the village chief to bid his farewell.
"It was quite a memorable visit, Chief. There were plenty of hardships from the moment we arrived, but toward the end, you gave us a chance to finally relax and enjoy some peace." Luke wasn’t saying it out of courtesy. He genuinely meant every word.
For the first time in days, they had slept soundly.
The meal had been excellent.
Guards had remained outside their room throughout the night, yet not once had the chief, or anyone else, disturbed them with questions or requests. That alone earned Luke’s respect.
"That was the very least we could do," Agram replied with a faint, apologetic smile. "Had you arrived at a different time, you would have left this village with nothing but pleasant memories. But fate has a habit of choosing its own moments. Unfortunately, the only thing waiting for you here was misfortune."
Luke let out a quiet chuckle. "I’ve gotten used to it, to be honest."
His life had been nothing short of a roller coaster.
The highs and lows had become so frequent that he had long since stopped questioning fate.
"Even so, I’d like to reward you for saving our village." Agram sighed. "Although I doubt you’d be willing to become a part of it now."
Luke smiled and shook his head. "Definitely not. But I’m curious. What did you have in mind?"
"The position of Guild Master is vacant," Agram replied. "I’m looking for someone strong and dependable to take that seat."
Luke shrugged. "Why not your son?"
Agram gave a slow nod.
"I’ve considered it. But despite being older than you, he still has much to learn."
"Responsibility is the greatest teacher," Luke said. "Everything else depends on the person."
He raised both hands with a grin, making it clear he had no intention of being dragged further into the discussion.
"Luke."
Just as he turned to leave, Agram called after him.
Luke glanced back over his shoulder.
"I know my influence can’t compare to the Head Village," Agram said, "but if you ever need anything, no matter what it is, you can count on me."
Luke stood in silence for a brief moment before giving a small nod.
The scars this village had left on him and his family would likely keep him from returning for a very long time.
Even so, having someone he could call an ally was never a bad thing.
....
"Alright then. Let’s get going."
After making sure all the luggage had been secured, Luke climbed onto the cart and took a seat beside Monica.
The horses, well fed and fully rested, began pulling the carriage forward.
Slowly, the village drifted behind them as the scenery outside started to change.
Roxanne quietly watched it all, a faint smile resting on her face.
"Hey," Luke called gently. "If you want... we can come back here someday."
Laila’s shoulders stiffened at those words.
Monica remained silent, her gaze shifting between the two girls.
After a long pause, Roxanne slowly shook her head.
"No... I don’t think I want to come back."
Her eyes lingered on the shrinking village.
"I don’t have anyone here to call this place home anymore."
The sorrow in her voice was impossible to miss.
In the span of just two days, everything had changed.
They had been hunted.
Countless eyes had watched their every move.
Death had reached for them more than once.
And Roxanne had nearly been killed by her own sister.
For anyone, it would have been enough to leave behind scars that would never truly fade.
For Roxanne, it was even worse.
This was the place where she had lost her mother.
But regardless, their journey had finally come to an end.
One filled mostly with bitter memories, with only a handful of sweet ones left to soften the pain.
If there was something Luke actually gained useful from this trip was the godly physique and the gemstone he currently held in his hand.
Looking at the pink orb he muttered, ’Let’s see what that filthy bastard was worth.’