Blood Moon Rising Over The Plains - Chapter 2:The Raiders (4)

But I was wrong.

It hurt. It hurt so much. This wasn’t like the beatings in the shanty. I couldn’t even pinpoint where the pain began, and it wasn’t enough to kill me.

But it was unbearable, so unbearable that tears poured down uncontrollably.

“Hnghh… hhuuh—”

The tears streaming down my face were oddly silent. I couldn’t sob or wail, only let them fall, drop by drop, until my eyes stung from the sheer volume.

Unlike them, I didn’t possess a dull blade.

I was too afraid to wield a sharp one properly, terrified that its edge might cut someone else—or worse, recoil and cut me instead.

I hated this.

The man poured all his emotions into me, unlike how he had been when dealing with the soldiers in the village. I wished he wouldn’t have done anything at all.

I thought of the first time I had reached out to him. I should have run away then.

“[This scent…],” he muttered.

The man pulled back slightly, separating our upper bodies. Though we were still joined at the hips, he lifted his heavy weight off me, his chest no longer pressing into my back.

“Haa—”

When the fingers that had been swirling inside my mouth finally withdrew, saliva pooled in my mouth spilled to the floor with a loud drip.

Through my blurred, trembling vision, tears fell in heavy drops, splattering on the ground below.

“[…Haa.]”

A large hand reached out from behind me, covering not just my chin but my cheek as well. Though it wasn’t rough, the strength in his grip forced my face to turn toward him, twisting my body along with it. The movement caused the walls of my insides to twist painfully.

“Ahh, hnghh!”

It hurt. It hurt so much I wanted to run away from this place right then and there.

“[…….]”

I couldn’t see the expression on his face. Nor did I know what expression I was wearing.

All I knew was that he pulled his body away from mine.

The sticky sound of him separating from me, his lower half slick with a mix of fluids, made my body flinch reflexively.

The tears that had burst forth without warning showed no sign of stopping.

Then, over my trembling shoulders, he draped a thick piece of clothing that had been lying on the floor.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, he roughly tousled his hair, threw on his clothes haphazardly, and left the room.

I sat there, tears dripping steadily down my cheeks, staring blankly at his retreating back until it disappeared from sight.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Clatter.

The wooden window, made of uneven planks, creaked open weakly, likely due to a faulty latch. When I arrived here, the snow had already stopped, but now it was falling again in thick, heavy flakes.

“……”

Snow had blanketed the ground in a pristine, untouched white. Beyond the unmarked expanse, tall coniferous trees stretched skyward, their branches laden with fresh snow.

“…So clean,” I murmured.

Unlike me.

A wave of nausea surged through me, though all that rose in my throat was bitter bile. I instinctively got up, staggering toward the window, and stretched out a hand.

Cold snow landed on my palm, melting into water and vanishing.

Lowering my gaze, I stared at the sneakers on my feet—shoes hastily shoved on without care. I looked ridiculous, mismatched and disheveled.

My body ached as though it had been battered from the inside out. On the outside, I looked no better. Red handprints marked my skin, a vivid testament to the force that had been exerted on me. Between my thighs, sticky trails of pinkish fluid dripped down—indelible evidence of what had just occurred.

I felt miserable. So profoundly, wretchedly miserable.

I had been cast into a place with nothing and no one. I couldn’t speak the language. No one knew me, and all I had to my name was my body.

Naturally, I had assumed that if my body was all I had, then I would use it. There was even a contraceptive patch. Where I came from, it wasn’t uncommon to sleep with someone to survive.

Of course, I couldn’t always choose my partner, but I thought it was the best choice I could make.

Because I had nothing else.

And yet—why do I feel this way?

Shivering violently, I hugged my trembling shoulders. Scratching at my itchy skin until blood welled didn’t make me forget the pain. The memory of the man’s touch wouldn’t disappear.

“Right now…”

My footprints would soon be covered. In a storm like this, they wouldn’t be able to find me.

“…Link.”

The single word rasped painfully from my throat, cracked and raw. My voice sounded broken, even to me.

At the command, a small screen appeared in front of me, courtesy of Noah.

<One linkable item detected: “Gravity Shoes 00NE_00957.” Would you like to connect?>

“Connect.”

A short buzz confirmed the activation. I looked down at the disheveled bedding that reeked of the encounter, then turned away.

The cold wind from outside seeped into the room, brushing against my feverish skin. Despite the chill, my body burned, as if the heat would scorch my mind.

I glanced at the clothes scattered on the floor but shook my head. I might get cold later, but for now, this would do. I needed to cool down. Besides, I could always retrieve them after I hid and returned.

The world outside was still dark. The faint blue glow on the horizon hinted at the coming dawn, but judging by the urgency of their movements, they’d be ready to leave as soon as the sun rose.

Thankfully, this house was located on the outskirts of the village, with a forest stretching out behind it. That should buy me enough time to escape their sight.

No matter how skilled they were at hunting and traversing vast plains as nomads, surely they wouldn’t chase me into the dense woods. After all, I was just a disposable courtesan to them.

When I first entertained thoughts of escape, I had carefully gauged their abilities. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t evade their pursuit. I couldn’t outrun their horses or outnumber them.

Carefully, I climbed out of the window and stepped onto the snow. My sneakers sank deep into the pristine white, the heat of my body melting it as it seeped into the fabric.

Through the swirling snow, only glimpses of the coniferous trees were visible. It was hard to secure a clear line of sight. With my white clothing, I figured I could blend in with the snow if I covered my hair. Pulling the fabric draped over my shoulders up to my head, I concealed myself as much as I could.

Crrunch.

My footprints appeared briefly on the snow, only to be swallowed by the blizzard moments later. Everything was white.

Clatter.

I froze and glanced back through the window. The man had just entered the house. Even now, he was carrying a familiar leather pouch, likely having gone out to fetch water.

Would he notice I was gone? I didn’t wait to find out.

“[…!]”

The man closed the distance swiftly, moving like a predator. As he sprinted toward me, I opened my mouth and spoke softly but firmly:

“…Shoes on.”

The device hummed with a faint vibration as the Gravity Shoes activated. My body slowly began to lift off the ground. As these were standard-use shoes rather than industrial-grade, they adhered to the legal speed limit, making the ascent painfully slow.

The hem of my coat flapped in the blizzard as I hovered just out of reach. The man’s outstretched fingers brushed against the fabric, a hair’s breadth away from grabbing me. It was an agonizingly close call.

“[—!]”

His words were lost in the roar of the storm. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what he had tried to say. Perhaps I would have liked to know.

Turning my back to him, I began stepping into the air, each motion slow and deliberate as the Gravity Shoes adjusted to altitude. While the air grew thinner as I ascended, the shoes had a built-in height limit. Fortunately, that limit was sufficient for this situation.

The storm’s icy winds bit at my exposed skin, chilling me far faster than I had expected. My breaths came out as white puffs, dissipating quickly into the air.

—Body temperature is below the acceptable threshold. Insulation is recommended.

A soft beeping accompanied Noah’s warning, a holographic alert unfolding before me. A yellow triangle with an exclamation mark blinked onscreen, surrounded by red flashing lights.

How annoying.

Frowning, I dismissed the notification with a flick of my fingers.

“Disable alert.”

—Disabling bio-rhythm danger alerts. Please note that disabling alerts may prevent you from detecting critical body conditions. This is not recommended for your safety.

“Disable.”

—Danger alerts have been disabled. You can review future alerts via the history log.

Ignoring the warnings, I pressed onward, stepping carefully through the empty air as I ascended toward the treetops. The slow pace, dictated by the shoes, felt agonizingly restrictive, but I endured it.

Finally, I reached the thick branches of a towering tree. I gripped a sturdy limb, using it to propel myself upward. The size of these trees was astonishing. Unlike the genetically engineered trees of my time, created for aesthetic purposes or air filtration, these trees were natural, their sheer scale both humbling and foreign.

The rough bark pricked at my palms, its sharp edges breaking my skin in places. My fingers, flushed red from the cold, trembled violently, but the pain from the cuts bled together with the chill, leaving me oddly numb. Crimson streaks stained the bark where my hands had pressed.

The conifer was incredibly tall, its pointed needles scratching at my face as I climbed higher. My cheeks stung, and when I touched them, I felt the slickness of blood. My arms and legs, exposed in places, were similarly scratched and bruised, leaving my skin a mess of shallow wounds.

Finally, I found a perch near the top of the tree, settling onto a thick branch and leaning against the trunk for support. The wind had weakened slightly, and the blizzard had subsided, leaving snowflakes to drift lazily downward. Here, within the dense foliage, the snow didn’t reach.

The view was dizzying. The ground below was barely visible through the gaps in the pine needles, and all I could see were layers upon layers of green branches. Occasionally, the wind would shift, revealing glimpses of the snow-covered landscape below. It was an excellent hiding spot—high, concealed, and difficult to reach.

I had no idea how far I’d managed to come, but I hadn’t traveled far. There was no need to. These people were bound to leave soon. Rather than running endlessly and leaving a trail to follow, it was better to hide close by and wait for them to move on. Once they were gone, I’d head in the opposite direction.

Leaning my head gently against the trunk, I let my eyes flutter shut. The cold air slipped through the gaps in my clothing, chilling my skin, but it was still warmer here than out in the open. The wind couldn’t penetrate the dense leaves, offering some reprieve from the biting chill.

I was so tired. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, and my eyelids drooped, threatening to pull me into sleep.

Surrounded by the thick foliage, there was nothing to hear but the sound of the wind. No voices, no warmth, no human presence.

This world was unlike anything I had ever known. I had never seen so many people in one place before. I had heard stories of the past, where such gatherings were common, but they had always seemed like fantasies—impossible to imagine, much less believe.

In my time, the world’s population was less than half of what it had once been, and studies suggested it would halve again within a century. The decline seemed unstoppable, and survival had become a matter of endurance, not hope.

It was the first time I had ever held something in my hands to eat. Back in my time, all meals were encapsulated into daily recommended nutrition capsules. Eating one would complete the day’s nourishment.

When I first arrived here, I managed to survive by rationing the capsules I had brought with me. Though I didn’t have enough for daily consumption, I stretched them to every other day. When they eventually ran out, I had no choice but to start eating the food they offered, but my body rejected it every time—I would vomit it all up.

The first meal left me writhing in pain. After that, I could only manage a few bites before I had to stop.

Oh, that’s right. The only proper meal I had ever eaten here was with him. At first, he offered me meat. When I couldn’t eat it, he brought me something softer—something that was neither water nor rice but easy to swallow. The softened grains went down smoothly, requiring little effort to chew.

Even the clothes he gave me were beautiful. Yes, they were beautiful. Everything was beautiful and strange. But in the end, it hurt.

He poured his emotions onto me—hot, raw, overwhelming emotions that were all-consuming, to the point of pain.

I felt miserable. So deeply, profoundly miserable. I kept asking myself why, but the question didn’t linger long.

I am not a trash bin meant to hold your feelings. I didn’t want to be held like this.

I hated it.

This was the first time I had felt true pain since arriving in this world. The first time I had gone hungry. The first time I had been hit. The first time I had felt cold. The first time I had come face-to-face with death.

In the world I came from, global population decline meant only sixteen children were born the year I was. In fact, the very existence of those sixteen children was considered fortunate. There was no need to have children anymore.

After the invention of contraceptive patches, people pursued pleasure without worry, and the concept of orphans became a relic of history. There were no children abandoned by parents, no children left orphaned. From the moment a child was born, they were accompanied by artificial intelligence and android caregivers.

I probably never cried after my first breath of life. The AI and androids monitored bio-rhythms so closely that they brought me food before I could cry for it. They handled everything, from basic needs to cleanup.

Pleasure was the only sensory experience that mattered. Intercourse, stripped of meaning, became a thoughtless routine. Synthetic drugs that didn’t harm health were freely distributed.

Currency, which had long lost its purpose, was officially abolished not long ago. With humanity dwindling, wars and conflicts had disappeared naturally, and automated machines and androids provided everything we needed without effort.

Humans had no reason to move, no need to create or strive. Machines manufactured everything, and scarcity no longer existed. There was no competition, no labor, no exchange of goods.

The vast world had only a few humans scattered across it, surrounded by machines, androids, and artificial constructs.

It was dull. Empty.

Just like this endless snowy field.

The people here were different. They weren’t like the humans of my world. They were vibrant, bursting with energy. They laughed, shouted, danced, and moved as if life itself flowed through them. When one danced, another sang, filling the air with a melody.

Machines couldn’t replicate art. Dance and song had disappeared into the past, leaving behind only machine-generated instruments altering old tunes. I had never heard a human voice sing, and I had never been curious.

But now… I wish I had listened more.

These people killed to survive, moved for their goals, and fought their wars. Was this what war was always like?