Four Hearts for the Wise - Chapter 6

Kalia drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to gather strength in her body. She had never experienced being carried like this before, her weight effortlessly supported by someone else. She could tell they were moving quickly, though her body barely jolted with the motion.

What’s happening? Where am I?

Her eyelids fluttered weakly before she gave up and closed her eyes again. There was nothing she could do but endure.

The sound of rustling grass reached her ears. It was uneven and chaotic, like blades brushing against legs as someone ran through dense undergrowth. Whoever was carrying her was moving fast—this much she could tell. As her dulled senses began to return, she became more aware of her surroundings.

The eerie sound of the wind at night. The unsettling cries of nocturnal birds. The constant rustling as they pushed through thick grass. It was a fitting environment for fugitives on the run.

She remembered hearing them mention “being tracked.”

Tracked by who?

Kalia recalled hearing stories about those marked for extermination by the Sacred Nation. These individuals, branded as heretics, often tried to escape. But as far as Kalia knew, no one had ever successfully survived the pursuit of the Sacred Nation.

She didn’t need to think hard to guess what might have happened before she blacked out in the tower. The screams she’d heard before losing consciousness, the identity of the pursuers—none of it was difficult to piece together.

Her village had been destroyed by the Sacred Nation. The townsfolk were surely dead, and the buildings burned to ash. Everything had gone according to plan. If fate had been fair, Kalia should have died on the spot as well.

Yet here she was. Against all odds, she had survived.

Whether by luck or some kind of mistake, she was still alive and now fleeing alongside these strangers. That much, at least, she understood.

She had been branded an enemy of the Sacred Nation, dragged into this mess through no fault of her own. Judging by the circumstances, the wizard who lived in the tower must have been the cause. It was unfair—infuriatingly so—but not entirely unheard of.

What didn’t make sense, however, were the people around her.

These strangers had no connection to Kalia. And yet, they were the reason she was still alive. They carried her effortlessly as they fled their pursuers, acting as though protecting her was the most natural thing in the world.

Had they used magic to stop her bleeding? She couldn’t confirm it, but her wounds seemed to have closed. Maybe they had even begun to heal.

Who were they? She didn’t know. But one thing was clear—they had the power to heal her injuries in an instant, something that would require incredible magical skill.

Before she lost consciousness in the tower, Kalia had felt the heavy, oppressive atmosphere, heard the chaos of the tower collapsing, and then the screams of the holy knights. Somehow, these people had managed to escape the tower and evade their pursuers.

What kind of power could challenge the knights of Lamiakea?

And yet here they were, helping her escape. Even more bizarre was their behavior—licking her tears and blood, whispering strange, seductive words in her ears.

Ordinary people avoided anyone entangled with the Sacred Nation, especially if dark magic was involved. The potential fallout was obvious.

Who are these people?

Kalia forced herself to think, trying to piece together what little she knew. The present details didn’t seem to matter much—she couldn’t see or hear clearly in the darkness anyway. Instead, she focused on what had happened before she met them.

She remembered the holy knights questioning her about the barrier around the tower. They had claimed that unidentified magical artifacts were being stored there without permission, allegedly by a dark mage. They had asked her how to dispel the barrier, but she had no answers to give.

Somehow, despite the barrier, she had entered the tower.

How did I…

“Ugh…!”

Her thoughts were cut off as sharp pain flared through her body. This time, it wasn’t from the drug. The fact that she could think this far clearly meant her numbed senses were starting to return.

The side effect of that clarity was pain.

“Ahh… Ngh…”

Unlike the groggy moans she had let out before, this sound was sharp and involuntary, the kind of cry that came from true pain.

Her sudden reaction caused the group carrying her to stop in their tracks. They glanced at her briefly, their gazes assessing her condition. Once they were satisfied that she had quieted down, they continued.

But after only a single step—

“Ugh!”

Kalia’s sharp cry escaped her lips, triggered by nothing more than a slight jostle.

“Damn it, what’s going on now?”

“Why is she reacting like this?”

“…What’s wrong with her?”

She couldn’t even bite her lip to suppress the pain. Her body trembled uncontrollably as the dull ache in her wounds suddenly grew deeper and sharper. Every movement, no matter how small, caused unbearable agony.

Kalia whimpered softly, trying desperately to endure the pain, but it quickly overwhelmed her. Soon, tears streamed down her face, and quiet sobs broke free.

“It hurts. It… hurts. It hurts…”

As the drug’s numbing effect faded, her senses—and her mind—began to awaken. The fog that had dulled her thoughts started to lift, and with it came a cruel clarity.

The problem was that along with her mental clarity came a sharp, searing pain she hadn’t felt before. It was as though needles were pricking every part of her body. That alone would have been unbearable, but the sensation intensified with every passing moment.

When pain becomes overwhelming, even sound abandons you. Kalia’s lips parted wordlessly, her body shaking as she tried and failed to breathe through the torment. Around her, the strangers exchanged words.

“Hey, didn’t you do it right?”

“Healing isn’t my specialty.”

“Great. Just what we needed. A headache.”

Kalia couldn’t tell who was speaking. She couldn’t even distinguish their faces; her vision was too blurred, her mind too foggy. All she could vaguely discern was that the one carrying her had the roughest tone among them.

Cold sweat poured down her back as pain surged from the stab wounds, radiating through her entire body. Desperately, she clutched at whatever she could reach, which happened to be the shoulders of the person carrying her. Her grip tightened, and she instinctively curled into them, clinging for dear life.

“Hnnngh!”

Despite gritting her teeth, another scream tore from her as a hand pressed against her back.

“Ah, sorry! Is it here?”

“Ahh… Ngh, no… It hurts, it hurts…!”

A bony hand began to gently rub her back, moving in careful, soothing motions, as if trying to comfort her. The touch was light, like someone calming a child with an upset stomach.

But for Kalia, the sensation was anything but comforting. Every stroke of the hand sent sharp, throbbing waves of pain through her body.

“Ahh… Ngh… It’s hot… It burns…”

On top of the pain, she felt an unbearable heat radiating from the hand on her back. It wasn’t just warm—it felt scorching, as if her body was being branded.

Her tears flowed freely as her sobs grew louder. Perhaps noticing her reaction, the hand withdrew from her back.

“Hmm. Still in pain?”

“Hngh… Ngh… Haaa…”

She couldn’t respond with anything but weak, gasping moans. From ahead, she heard someone click their tongue.

“Move. I’ll handle it.”

“No, it’s fine now. It’s done.”

The voice was firm, and something about the way they spoke left no room for argument.

Then, Kalia’s body proved the truth of their words.

The pain was gone.

The unbearable throbbing, the sharp stabs—everything had vanished. It had started fading the moment the heat from the hand on her back intensified. Yet, while the pain was gone, the heat remained, simmering deep within her body.

“This… feels strange…”

Outwardly, nothing seemed to have changed. But Kalia’s cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was shallow and quick. Each breath came out hot and ragged, brushing against the ear of the man carrying her.

She felt his broad shoulders twitch beneath her touch.

“Nnngh… Hah…”

Instinctively, she clung tighter to the person in front of her. If earlier she had held on out of pain, now it was for an entirely different reason.

Her body felt strange—too hot, too restless. The heat inside her refused to subside.

“…Hah. What now? Why is she acting like this?”

“Nngh… Ahh… Hah…”

Kalia’s soft whimpers and labored breaths brushed against the ear of the man carrying her, and her flushed, heated exhalations added to the growing tension. Several low, startled voices erupted from around them, betraying their collective unease.

“Damn… what is this…?”

Still crying, Kalia buried her face against the neck of the dark-haired man carrying her. Her body trembled, unable to stay still, as a deep, unfamiliar heat churned within her.

“Hic… sob…”

She felt both hot and strangely uncomfortable. The stabbing pain from earlier had subsided, but her body ached in a way that was harder to explain. As she twisted slightly in his hold, something brushed against her back, drawing a sharp gasp.

“Ahh!”

It was a hand. Probably the same hand from earlier. But this time, the sensation was entirely different.

Kalia couldn’t understand what she was feeling. From the moment that dry hand touched her back, her skin tingled and every hair on her body stood on end. She shuddered involuntarily. Then, she suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything.

The realization hit her like a tidal wave, and her face burned with embarrassment, the heat spreading from her back to her cheeks in an instant.

“What’s happening to her?”

“I don’t know. Damn it, what kind of drug did they give her?”

“The pain seems to be gone. Could it be something else?”

Everyone sounded confused, but Kalia was by far the most distressed. Her mind was spinning in circles, and a new wave of embarrassment mixed with confusion and frustration threatened to overwhelm her.

“I don’t like this… this is so wrong…”

Her position on the man’s back only heightened her discomfort. The firm grip of his hands beneath her knees, the lingering sensation of the dry palm that had brushed her back, and the way her legs were splayed out for support—all of it was unbearable.

Kalia had no words to explain what she was feeling other than “It hurts.” That was the only way her disoriented mind could describe the sensations coursing through her body. Overwhelmed, her thoughts spiraled into despair as she questioned why such things kept happening to her.

“Hngh… sob… hic…”

Tears streamed down her face as her sobs grew louder. She was an utter mess. The group exchanged glances, their expressions shifting between concern and something else. One of them swallowed audibly.

Unbeknownst to Kalia, her vulnerable state, her soft cries, and her trembling form pressed against one of them were proving to be far more stimulating than they’d expected.

“We need to move quickly. At this rate, she won’t make it.”

“What about the pursuers?”

“We’ve shaken them off.”

Kalia continued to moan faintly, her voice tinged with discomfort and exhaustion. Her heart pounded in her chest, each thump so loud and fast that she worried it might burst. Her body burned with feverish heat, and every movement seemed to exacerbate her strange state.

“Let’s go.”

A heavy, coarse blanket was draped over her exposed body. The rough fabric brushed against her bare skin, eliciting another shiver as her body flinched at the unfamiliar texture.

The group began moving again. She could feel the rhythm of the man carrying her, the subtle jostling as they made their way forward. Everything felt alien—her surroundings, the people, and even her own body.

Her state was a wreck. She had no idea where they were or how far they had come. Yet, amidst all the confusion and discomfort, a faint, almost inexplicable thought settled in her mind:

“I might survive this after all.”

Somehow, she clung to that small sliver of hope.

By the time she became vaguely aware of the world around her again, the dark horizon had begun to brighten. Dawn was breaking.