Blood Moon Rising Over The Plains - Chapter 3: Language (5)

I glanced around—there were only invaders here.

If I were alone, it would have been one thing, but being left in the middle of this rowdy crowd wasn’t exactly appealing.

Noticing my reaction, the man grinned and removed his hood, placing it over my head.

The oversized hood tilted awkwardly, nearly covering one side of my vision.

I adjusted it, then looked up at him.

“[I’ll be back soon, so behave and wait here.]”

I couldn’t understand the Mongolian words, but he didn’t seem to expect a response. Without another word, he turned and left with the bearded man.

I blinked in confusion.

“…….”

“[…….]”

Somehow, the silence felt heavier now that he was gone.

Still, it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.

Resting my arms on my knees, I placed my chin on top of them, gazing around.

People were moving in all directions, each engaged in their own activities. It wasn’t particularly entertaining, yet I couldn’t look away.

Some were drinking loudly, slinging their arms around each other’s shoulders, practically pouring alcohol into each other’s mouths. Others were wrestling, tumbling across the ground, only to get up laughing and continue their conversations. In one corner, a few men were tending to their weapons and horses.

But there was one thing they all had in common—expressions.

Their faces were constantly shifting with emotion.

This was the first time I had ever seen so many people gathered in one place.

Watching them like this, it felt as though the closest thing to true humanity belonged to the people of the past.

In the future, emotions like friendship and love only exist in books.

Humanity in the future was practically devoid of emotions.

Given the environment, it made sense. From birth, we were raised in the care of expressionless androids, held in arms that provided warmth without warmth, and lived lives without discomfort.

Naturally, there was no reason to cry. No reason to feel joy.

And so, as we grew, we craved new stimulation—falling into drugs, cigarettes, or reckless indulgence in pleasure. I was no exception.

…Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t smoked once since coming here.

I hadn’t even thought about it.

Cigarettes weren’t particularly addictive in my time, but even so, I had never gone this long without them.

Swish—

Something appeared in my field of vision.

A pair of hands held a string of yarn, looped into a tight circle. With a swift motion, the fingers twisted and wove the string into a pattern.

I blinked, following the movement, then looked down at the person crouching on the ground in front of me.

Buka.

He held out the tangled yarn toward me.

…What is he doing?

“[…Buka, what exactly are you doing?]”

“[You looked bored, so I figured I’d entertain you with a string game. I used to play this all the time with my little sisters.]”

At some point, the man had returned.

He pulled back the hood covering my head, looking down at Buka with an expression of sheer disbelief.

I, on the other hand, stared blankly at the loops of string in Buka’s hands.

…Is there supposed to be some meaning behind this?

The strings formed an X-shaped pattern.

Tilting my head at the unfamiliar design, I suddenly felt warmth—my hands were covered by the man’s.

He effortlessly hooked my fingers into the loops, pulling them in a quick, fluid motion.

In an instant, the shape shifted.

“[I never expected Khan to know this game.]”

Buka swiftly took the string from my hands, creating another shape just as quickly.

The man didn’t hesitate. He hooked my fingers into the string again.

“[Well, roughly.]”

“[So, what about that suspicious guy you caught?]”

“[He was a lackey of the third prince. They requested a meeting.]”

“[Oh? So, an internal dispute? Or a trap?]”

As the same patterns repeated, I slowly became accustomed to the motions.

This time, before the man could guide my fingers, I moved first, hooking the string on my own.

He looked down at me in mild surprise but let go, allowing me to continue.

“[Who knows? I’ll have to see for myself.]”

“[Do you really plan to meet with them? We don’t need the third prince’s help.]”

This time, Buka twisted the string in a slightly different way—but the result was the same shape as before.

Curious, I tilted my head and pulled at the loops, watching as the string unraveled.

“……”

“[…Buka.]”

“[This is how you learn, Khan.]”

The man’s hands covered mine again, reshaping the loops.

Buka immediately took the string back, using that same peculiar hand movement to create a new pattern.

My hands were drawn along, following the shift in motion.

“[We don’t need the third prince’s help. But we do need the next emperor.]”

“[If it’s a trap, that’s one thing. But if he’s looking for an alliance, wouldn’t that be even more troublesome? If a strategist ends up on the throne, he’ll be a nuisance.]”

“[If he’s smart, he’ll know his place. If he doesn’t, we’ll teach him.]”

“[…Khan, don’t you think you’re being a little too reckless?]”

“[About what?]”

“[If he betrays us—]”

“[Then that’ll make things interesting.]”

The man smirked, curling his lips into an amused grin.

And then—

The string tangled.

“…….”

“[…….]”

“[Looks like I win.]”

This time, it was Buka who grinned.

Meanwhile, the man’s face twisted into a deep scowl.

* * *

The sight of horses galloping in herds across the vast grasslands was breathtaking.

Unlike the narrow forest paths of the future, these riders spread out in every direction, racing forward like fish released into a boundless ocean. Their speed was staggering—nothing I had ever seen before.

Piiiiiik—

I lifted my head sharply.

High above, an eagle soared, its wings spread wide against the crisp blue sky.

It wasn’t a 3D hologram.

It was real.

With each passing day, I was growing accustomed to life with these people. New sights, new landscapes—they filled my memory like an ever-expanding collection.

The grasslands stretched endlessly, unbroken by trees, rolling into the horizon.

Here and there, animals darted across the snow-covered patches, their movements swift and fleeting.

The terrain was varied—some parts were barren earth, others dry brown grass, while others lay blanketed in white.

What would this place look like in spring or summer?

And what had it looked like before this moment?

The cold wind flushed my cheeks red, my breath turning to mist, yet I couldn’t turn away.

Every sight shimmered vividly, holding me captive.

Creak.

A sound caught my attention.

I turned just in time to see the man drawing his bowstring taut.

The bow curved dramatically, strained to its very limit.

Fwip—

The arrow flew, piercing a fox that had been crouched behind the brittle underbrush.

It tumbled mid-leap, rolling lifelessly onto the plains.

I glanced around—others were hunting as well.

The man steered his horse toward the fallen fox without hesitation.

Even as their leader veered off course, the rest of the riders pressed forward without losing formation.

With a sharp nudge to his horse’s flank, he approached the fox’s body.

Leaning smoothly to one side, he scooped it up with ease.

His movements looked like they required immense strength, yet neither he nor his massive frame seemed to unbalance the sturdy horse beneath him.

Impressive.

With practiced efficiency, he secured the fox in the saddlebag slung over his horse’s flank before rejoining his men, never pausing, never hesitating.

Every action was seamless, uninterrupted.

This was nothing like the world I knew—where machines did everything for us, producing whatever we needed and delivering it on demand.

Back in the future, as humanity dwindled, restrictions tightened.

Androids and artificial intelligence were programmed to prioritize human safety above all else.

As a result, humans lived in perfect security.

Or so we thought.

Watching these people now, I found myself questioning that definition of safety.

Was mere physical protection enough to call it security?

A life where emotions were hollowed out, where the only remaining instincts were numbed by drugs, sex, alcohol, and cigarettes—could that really be considered living?

These people moved freely. Lived freely.

Their world lacked the advancements of the future, their strength was their only means of survival, yet…

For the first time, I felt something unexpected.

I envied them.

* * *