Not Knowing The Betrayal Of That Day - Chapter 127
Translator and Editor: Effe and Yonnee
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Chapter 127
“It seems like you’re glad that Dad is here.”
“How smart. You know that Dad is here. You didn’t bother Mom while Dad was away, did you?”
“How gentle, what a shame.”
Tessa didn’t experience any severe discomfort after waking up from her long sleep. Although she felt the baby move frequently, it wasn’t enough to startle or cause pain.
Because of this, Tessa became even more curious about the baby that would be born into this world. She wondered who the child would resemble more, what kind of personality the child would have. She was also curious whether it would be a girl or a boy.
“I want… to meet the baby soon…”
In response to Tessa’s murmurs, Hert lightly kissed her forehead and replied.
“Me too.”
With his own anticipation reflected in that warm voice, Tessa whispered softly, conveying her sincere wishes toward the baby stirring inside her.
Baby, Mom and Dad are waiting for you today as well.
So, let’s meet safely and be healthy.
Finally, as if making a promise, Tessa looked down at her belly and spoke.
“We will raise you happily and without any lacking. We will also give you a lot of love.”
More than I have ever felt before…
Hert also nodded at her words.
“Of course. Let’s raise our child happily.”
Behind story Ⅰ
The faint smell of blood permeated the cold wind that blew all day. In the past few days, there had been no apparent progress in the ongoing rotations. Viachen, Messieux. The leadership of each faction took only passive responses, watching each other and engaging in a war of attrition. As a result, the dying were nothing but mere pawns caught in the crossfire.
“…F,u…ck….”
Hert felt like he would vomit at the foul stench of blood that covered his entire body. Whether it was the blood of enemy soldiers or fellow prisoners, who shared the same fate, the smell pierced his nostrils and clouded his mind. The screams for mercy still echoed in his ears, as if arrows were still raining down like a torrent in this moment with his eyes closed.
The battlefield was a hell that existed in the present world. Human dignity had been nailed to the ground long ago.
Especially for the prisoners who were destined to be used as fodder from the beginning, they received treatment worse than cattle. Without handing them any weapons or helmets, they were simply ordered to move forward. The prisoners were swept away like tiny grains of sand on a beach by the waves.
Yet Hert was lucky. He had survived since being deployed to the battlefield. Well, about half of it could be attributed to his skill with the sword that he had accumulated in the gladiator arena. He managed to prolong his life by wielding a sword he had chanced upon and cutting down enemy soldiers.
But that was all there was.
There was nothing more that Hert could do. He was merely prolonging his life day by day, awaiting the unknown end.
Hert tightly clutched his stomach and pulled the blanket up to his neck. Since earlier, his body had been trembling with chills. However tightly he wrapped the tattered blanket around himself, the cold wind seeped in through the torn holes. Unconsciously, Hert cursed under his breath.
“…Sh, it…”
Would it be enough if they just provided proper blankets? But everyone here knew that such things didn’t happen. In a place where every resource was critical, who would provide warm bedding for the prisoners on the battlefield? They should be grateful that there was even a barrack with a roof.
Even bathing was a matter of being herded together at designated times and having cold water poured over them. The daily meals consisted of just a piece of hard bread. A prison where each meal was meticulously arranged would have been a better situation. That’s why although he barely survived in the barracks, the sounds of coughing prisoners dying all around were constant.
Hert swallowed down the rising urge to curse again and curled his body with difficulty. His head was spinning so much it felt like it might split open. The recent overwhelming fatigue had finally overcome his resistance. Given the conditions, even a giant would have succumbed to illness long ago. It was remarkable that he had endured this much.
‘Now… no more…’
Finally, Hert slowly began to lose consciousness, letting his heavy body go limp as if it had been weighted down.
Through the hazy consciousness, a voice reached him.
‘I’m sorry, child.’
Hert was reliving the past. It was a memory from a much smaller and younger time than the present. Most of the memories from that time were more bad than good, and the earliest memory was of his mother, whose face he couldn’t even remember, holding him and crying.
‘I wasn’t supposed to bring you into this world… I should have erased you… I’m sorry, child. I’m truly sorry…’
She always cried. There wasn’t a day when her tears didn’t run down her face. But Hert couldn’t console his mother. He was too young for that. Moreover, even if he reached out, she was always out of reach.
His mother, who had endlessly repeated crying like that, disappeared at some point. People said she threw herself off a cliff.
When he realized that his mother was no longer by his side, emptiness came rather than sadness. The fact that he was left alone fiercely encroached on Hert. Everything was tough and cold. Why was he alone? He couldn’t understand, but he hated it to the core. Even a crying mother every day would have been better than being alone.
Don’t leave me alone.
I don’t want to be alone…
Hert cried, asking his mother.
After losing his mother, Hert began to wander through the world. It was more denial than wandering. Every time he saw people, he felt suffocated, as if he had hives. A sense of dread instinctively seeped in that he couldn’t mix with them. That was why, even though he hated being alone, ironically, he had no choice but to be alone.
The same was true even in the orphanage he entered with someone’s help.
‘It’s your fault! You killed your mother, didn’t you?! I heard it all!’
Most of the children instinctively avoided Hert, who spent time alone in the corner, but occasionally there were children who approached out of curiosity as if looking for a new toy. It was usually when they were overflowing with self-confidence for their own stories. Then Hert would stare blankly at those children or leave without a word.
But that day was different.
‘The adults said so! Your mother couldn’t handle you and died because of you…’
‘Shut up!’
Hert couldn’t bear the child’s words blaming his mother’s death on him. He immediately rushed at the other child and swung his clenched fist. The other child fell backward with a scream, and the other children around screamed.
In the midst of the chaotic situation, Hert fell to the ground and met the eyes of a child looking at him in fear.
‘You, you monster!’
Hert swung his fist at the child again. It felt like something that had been tightly held deep in his heart suddenly bursting out.
And before he knew it, everyone was looking at him with astonished eyes. It seemed like it could be true. Maybe he really did kill his own mother. It was as if he was whispering that.
Looking at the blood on his hands and the unconscious child lying beneath him, Hert fled.
As he ran until his breath was heavy, he thought. Did I really kill my mother? Did she hate me so much that she… died? He couldn’t tell, but it felt like someone was saying so.
Ah, I see.
I shouldn’t have been born.
Hert couldn’t hold back his tears once again.
‘It seems like you don’t fit in with us after all.’
After that incident, Hert was moved to another orphanage, but similar things continued to happen there.
Rumors naturally followed him like a tail and isolated Hert even more. Moreover, Hert no longer held back. He lived as though there were thorns growing out from him to push everyone away. He did whatever he wanted.
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