Blood Moon Rising Over The Plains - Chapter 3: Language (2)

They probably didn’t even know what illness I had. They couldn’t have known what antibodies I carried. Considering they were here as invaders at war, I should’ve been nothing more than dead weight. And yet, I had been spared.

In this modern age, where diseases once considered fatal have vanished, people are equipped with antibodies for nearly everything. Death is rare, occurring only due to unexpected accidents or the occasional new virus.

“[…It’s not like I’m completely captivated by women, though.]”

Sitting sideways on the horse, I sometimes lost my balance, wobbling precariously. This was one of those times. A hand suddenly gripped me tightly, pulling me upright. Startled, I tried to calm my breathing.

“[I’m sure you’re not,]” said the thinner man who had been speaking with the Khan. He glanced briefly at me and muttered something, causing the Khan’s eyebrows to twitch upward. I wondered if they were discussing the outcomes of the war.

“[By the way, if it’ll take a month, it’ll be during the height of the commotion.]”

“[…Exactly. Besides, now isn’t the time to split the forces. It’d be better to finish things quickly here and return.]”

The snow, which had lightly blanketed the ground, slowed the horses, making it impossible for them to gallop as they usually would. Every so often, clumps of snow would be kicked up by the horse’s hooves, landing on my sneakers and sending an icy chill through my body.

Even though I was wrapped tightly in fur, the protection didn’t extend to my shoes. My outfit consisted of layers draped over me, but my skirt couldn’t completely cover my ankles. Snowflakes that slipped through the small gaps created by the horse’s motion left my already chilled body even colder.

The sneakers I wore were comfortable, but they offered little warmth. They were designed more for breathability to prevent sweating than for insulation. Still, I hadn’t found the right moment to replace them.

After several days of sleeping outdoors, my body was crying out for rest. Riding the horse daily had also taken a toll on me.

The constant jolting left my hips and lower back aching, and my tailbone repeatedly slammed against the saddle. I was thankful I didn’t suffer from motion sickness. If I had, this journey would’ve been unbearable—worse than death.

“Haa—”

I exhaled heavily, watching my breath turn into a frosty white cloud. Under the moonlight, the mist glittered like shattered jewels.

“[I smell sulfur,]” the Khan said, suddenly raising his head and flaring his nostrils like a predatory animal sniffing the air. The way he did it reminded me of a canine from the weasel family, keenly detecting a scent.

“[Hmm, it’s getting late. Shall we prepare to camp soon?]”

“[Judging by the strong smell, it seems like there’s a good spot nearby. Alright, it doesn’t seem far. Let’s head there and set up camp.]”

“[Understood, Khan.]”

* * *

Splash—

I poured water over myself, savoring the rare sensation of truly washing. Unlike ordinary water, this spring had an unusually slippery texture that fascinated me.

The sulfuric smell was sharp and far from pleasant, but the experience was so refreshing that I was willing to overlook it. The hot spring we discovered in the forest seemed untouched for a long time. The rocks surrounding it were buried in yellow sulfur deposits, evidence of its solitude.

I usually managed to wipe my body with damp cloths, but washing my hair was a rare luxury. In the icy rivers, I could only wet it briefly before rushing to escape the cold.

Now, I gathered my hair to one side, rubbing the ends between my fingers. The brittle, split strands that had suffered from exposure to the cold air were now soft and glistening, revitalized by the hot spring water.

My dull blonde hair, streaked with ash tones, now carried a healthy sheen. Even as I ran my fingers roughly through it like a comb, the strands flowed smoothly without tangling.

The earlier chill was long gone, replaced by a deep, languid warmth that soaked into my body. My toes, once frozen numb, now felt ticklish from the pebbles brushing between them at the bottom of the spring.

At some point, the steam around the hot spring began to sparkle. I lifted my head, realizing the moon had emerged from behind the clouds, bathing the area in radiant silver light.

My gaze followed the moonlight upward, and I saw a night sky overflowing with stars. The sight left me breathless. There were no satellites or artificial lights to mar the view—just an infinite expanse of pure, shimmering constellations.

It struck me how much I’d been living without truly seeing. For the first time in this place, I was really looking at the sky. Actually, this was probably the first time in my life I’d ever looked at it properly.

Until now, I had neither the time nor the inclination to marvel at scenery. I had never even thought to. But here I was, completely mesmerized.

I couldn’t help but find it strange. The fact that I was even doing this—standing here, gazing at the stars, soaking in the warmth of the spring—it all felt surreal.

As I stared in awe at the sky full of stars, something brushed lightly against my shoulder. Through the hazy steam, I noticed a shadow, faint but distinct.

Instinctively, I turned my head, only to lock eyes with a grinning figure.

“Ahh—!”

A scream tore through the stillness.

“KYAAAH—!”

I flailed wildly, practically leaping out of my skin, waving my hands frantically as though to fend off whatever had startled me. My hands splashed water high into the air as I scrambled backward in a chaotic retreat.

And yet, my retreat was anything but graceful. My foot caught on a loose pebble, sending me off balance, and—of all moments—causing me to slip.

Splash!

I squeezed my eyes shut as my body toppled unceremoniously into the hot spring. Before I could fully submerge, something snatched my arm, pulling me up from the water.

Splosh!

Shriek! Shriek!
The sound of a screeching animal echoed nearby. Only after coughing and sputtering out the hot spring water I’d accidentally inhaled did I realize: it was the cry of a monkey.

“Cough, cough!” I gasped for air, finally clearing my throat.

“[Honestly… I can’t take my eyes off you for a single moment, can I?]”

A voice sighed above me, laced with exasperation. Wet hair clinging to my face was brushed aside by a hand, exposing my eyes to the world again.

Through the curtain of steam, I could see the man’s damp, dusky skin gleaming from the water. Scars littered his body—jagged marks from countless wounds, many of which had healed poorly, leaving grotesque reminders of his battles.

The most striking scar ran across the center of his chest, as though his skin had been scraped raw with coarse sandpaper.

His body was a canvas of scars: his arms, his legs, his chest—some of the injuries in places where survival would’ve been nothing short of miraculous.

The only untouched part was his back, but even that bore fresh wounds: scratches left by my nails.

“[It seems you’re uninjured, at least. But to think you’d be frightened by something like a monkey…]”

Click. He made a tsking sound with his tongue, and the noise sent a shiver down my spine.

Come to think of it, it really was just a monkey that startled me. One monkey, and I had made such a ridiculous scene.

Even this man had been soaking in the hot spring, apparently relaxing. I’d been the one trying to create distance by moving away earlier, but now…

I felt utterly foolish. I couldn’t even raise my head. Even without looking, I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, as though it were on fire.

“…Ugh…”

“[Are you hurt somewhere?]”

I quickly raised my hands to cover my face, but the heat in my cheeks refused to subside. I’d never experienced this before.

The man tugged at my hands, clearly telling me to lower them. But I had no courage to meet his gaze and frantically shook my head in refusal. Though I knew my behavior would hardly fly as someone essentially dragged into servitude, I couldn’t stop myself.

Splash!

Suddenly, I felt weightless, as though I’d been lifted off the ground. My eyes snapped open in shock, and I instinctively reached out to grab hold of something for balance.

“…Ah.”

What I saw were golden eyes, staring up at me with a piercing clarity that seemed to glow—much like the stars I’d seen earlier in the sky.

“[Do you have another fever?]”

Effortlessly holding me with one arm, he pressed the other hand against my forehead to check my temperature.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

Once again, I silently reminded myself: no matter what feelings this man harbored for me—if they even existed—they would be fleeting.

This man, an invader and a plunderer, would discard me without hesitation when the time came.

But what about me?

Could I truly avoid becoming attached to this man?

For the first time, I wore proper clothes.

For the first time, I thought they were beautiful.

For the first time, I looked up at a sky filled with stars and marveled at its beauty.

To someone like me, who had nothing—

It was this invader, this plunderer, who gave me these things.

It was Temüjin who gave them to me.

* * *