You, My Devil - Chapter 14

Just then, Yuri’s soldiers, now regrouped and ready, charged into the fray. Seeing their commander drenched in blood and fighting fiercely on the ground, they roared as they joined the battle.

The clash of swords and agonized screams echoed across the dunes. The scent of blood grew heavier in the desert air.

A gust of wind whistled across the battlefield as one enemy soldier fell to his knees, clutching his side where blood was pouring out. Yuri stood before him, his blade reflecting the harsh desert sunlight.

Pointing his sword at the dying man’s neck, Yuri’s voice was cold and sharp.

“Who sent you? Answer truthfully, and I’ll make it quick.”

“P-please… kill me… Your Highness Yuri…” the man groaned, his voice barely audible.

Yuri’s tone hardened.

“I’ll ask again. Was it Brother Nadine who sent these troops?”

“I… beg you… mercy…”

Yuri’s blade plunged mercilessly into the soldier’s abdomen. Blood spilled onto the sand, pooling beneath the fallen man.

“Or was it Brother Fessis?”

Yuri grabbed the man’s hair and yanked his head up, pressing his sword to the edge of his vision. The soldier, unable to bear the sight of his death, clenched his eyes shut and muttered.

“I… can’t… say… AAAARGH!”

The soldier’s left eye was pierced by Yuri’s blade. Blood streamed from the wound as Yuri leaned in, his voice a sinister whisper.

“Or perhaps… you were sent on Nike’s orders?”

“M-mercy, Your Highness… please… I have a wife and children in Granada…!”

A mocking smile flickered on Yuri’s lips, laced with bitter irony.

“Foolish man… Whether you reveal the truth to me or not, those who sent you are already doomed to die for the sake of secrecy. No matter who it was, the conclusion has already been written. Do you still not realize this?”

The soldier, trembling and bleeding, choked out a desperate reply.

“They… promised the safety of my family… If not for that… we—ah—none of us would have come here prepared to die…”

Before he could finish, Yuri’s blade sliced cleanly through his neck in a single, decisive motion.

“Pathetic. I can’t listen to any more of this drivel.”

The soldier’s severed head rolled away among the growing pile of corpses. Behind Yuri, his subordinates watched in uneasy silence, their expressions heavy with grief. They all shared the same origins—Nikeans. These were men who had once trained together as royal guards, now slaughtering one another in a brutal struggle for survival.

One of Yuri’s men finally broke the silence.

“Your Highness, we’ve dealt with the immediate threat, but staying here any longer is dangerous. We should finish up quickly and move on.”

Yuri’s gray eyes flicked toward him.

“Burn the bodies. We leave the moment they’re reduced to ash.”

“There are many corpses, Your Highness. It may take time… If a second wave of attackers sees the smoke—”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, silencing the soldier’s concerns.

“And let the bodies of Nike’s soldiers rot in the desert for the crows to feast on? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

The soldier lowered his gaze and fell silent.

The corpses burned, releasing acrid, black smoke into the air. Yuri stood before the pyre for a long time, his gaze fixed on the heap of bodies he had slain. Only when the armor was scorched black and crumbled did he finally turn away. His soldiers were right. Delaying further risked disaster if another attack came.

Reaching Constance and rallying the troops stationed there was the top priority.

“Let’s move. To Constance.”

The moment the words left his mouth, one of his men shouted commands to the others.

“Pack up! Leave behind anything we don’t need!”

Yuri strode toward where Heina was supposed to be hiding, his steps quickening as unease crept into his mind. Had she been hit by an arrow during the fight?

As he neared the collapsed camel, faint sobbing reached his ears. Yuri’s eyebrows twitched at the sound of a woman crying.

“What the…?”

His boots sank into the sand as he hurried forward, a strange sense of foreboding gripping him. When he rounded the camel’s massive body, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

“Ha… ha.”

“Your Highness… sob… I’m so sorry…”

Heina was nowhere to be found. In her place was one of Nike’s handmaidens, bound hand and foot, her hair disheveled as if she’d fought with all her strength.

Yuri rubbed his forehead and let out an incredulous laugh.

“Ah… Hahaha. Unbelievable.”

The handmaiden, still crying softly, stammered out an apology.

“I-I tried to stop her with all my strength, but… sob…”

“It seems I underestimated the slave.” Yuri’s voice dripped with bitterness. “When did she escape?”

The handmaiden, trembling as though Yuri might strike her down, stammered her reply.

“She… she ran off the moment the battle began…”

“Which direction?”

The handmaiden pointed westward, tears streaming down her face. Yuri’s lips curled into a smirk.

She was running toward her homeland—Constance. And she had done it alone, without supplies or protection.

Yuri mounted his horse in a single fluid motion, his expression cold as he barked orders to his men.

“Move quickly. Scout the area and keep heading toward Constance. I’ll rejoin you soon.”

One soldier hesitated, worry etched on his face.

“Your Highness, what if more troops are sent after us? Shouldn’t we—”

“I’ll finish the hunt and return swiftly. It won’t take long.”

Yuri grabbed a water skin from the camel’s saddle as he spurred his horse into motion. He didn’t look back as he galloped westward, the sand kicking up in his wake.

“Did you just say… a hunt?”

One of the soldiers, unsure if he had heard correctly, asked hesitantly. Yuri licked his lips, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Yes, a hunt.”

His gray eyes gleamed with a predatory light, sharp and merciless, like a beast closing in on its prey.

* * *

Heina ran and ran through the desert, her feet sinking into the soft, shifting sand. She had no idea how much time had passed. All she could do was flee with all her might in the direction where the sun was setting.

The maids had told her that if she kept walking west, she would eventually reach Constance. Yuri had also assured her that she would arrive there by tomorrow afternoon. If she kept running through the night, at most, she could reach Vatus—a district at the farthest edge of Constance—within two days.

Clinging to this belief, Heina struggled to keep her wavering consciousness intact.

“Ha… ha… ugh…”

The desert’s red sun, poised to vanish beyond the horizon, refused to set completely and continued to scorch the earth with its last remaining heat. Heina was now surviving on sheer willpower alone.

The problem was that no matter how far she walked, the endless expanse of sand dunes stretched in every direction. From her month-long journey through the desert, she had learned that dunes like these could suddenly give way to an oasis or villages formed around it.

But now, there were no signs of nearing Constance. Not even the slightest trace of life could be seen on the parched land. A creeping fear that she might have lost her way slithered up her throat.

“My throat… it’s so dry… ah…”

As her judgment clouded, her steps grew slower and slower. Her unfocused eyes started to glaze over. The sandstorms, the heat, and, above all, the blazing sun felt like they were piercing through her entire body.

The water flask she had managed to grab while escaping Yuri’s group had been empty for a long time. The burning thirst made her vision increasingly hazy.

“Constance… I’m so close… just a little further…”

Her strength had already been exhausted long ago, and she had surpassed her limits. Hadn’t they said that when you start seeing mirages in the desert, it means death is near? She no longer had the strength to move.

Far in the distance, she thought she saw faint smoke rising. Her pale, slender knees buckled and sank into the sand.

“Just… a little more…”

She placed her hands on the ground and slumped down.

“Let me rest… just for a moment…”

She closed her eyes where she sat—or rather, they closed on their own. This might very well be the threshold of death. But Heina no longer had the strength to lift her eyelids. Her consciousness grew fainter and fainter. Somewhere, she thought she heard the faint sound of hoofbeats slicing through the sandstorm.

“Heina… Heina…!”

In her dreams, someone was calling her name.

“Heina…!”

“Ar… zen…?”

The one who appeared before her on horseback was none other than Arzen, the man she had dreamed of. Heina’s parched lips barely moved. She wanted to call out his name loudly, but no sound came out. Her fingers trembled weakly on the sand as she reached toward him, desperate to touch him.

“What are you doing here, Heina?”

In her dream, Arzen asked her. Heina looked at him and faintly smiled. She wanted to run to him, to embrace him, but her body wouldn’t move.

“Arzen… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Pull yourself together, Heina. Now!”

“Just a little… just a little nap,” Heina’s lips moved silently. The moment the light faded from her eyes, her frail body collapsed sideways onto the ground.

“Heina, open your eyes! Snap out of it!”

Yuri jumped off his horse and grabbed her limp body. Her clothes were drenched in sweat, and her face was deathly pale. Before he had left to search for her, the maids had hesitantly mentioned that Heina had shown signs of heatstroke since the morning.

When Yuri glared at them in confusion, a soldier nearby had explained that it was a condition that often afflicted non-Nikean travelers in the desert. The soldier added grimly that severe dehydration could lead to death. Without waiting for the explanation to finish, Yuri had mounted his horse and galloped off, his mind set on finding her before nightfall. He knew that if the sun set, it would be the end.

Driven by a sense of urgency, Yuri scoured the desert relentlessly, leaving no stone unturned until he finally found her.

“Damn it. Why didn’t you tell me, you fool…”

Holding the unconscious Heina in his arms, Yuri hurriedly bit down on the strap of his canteen to loosen it. Getting her to drink water was the immediate priority.

“Drink, damn it! You idiot!”

Water dripped down Heina’s lips and chin as Yuri yelled at her, but she remained unconscious. He exhaled sharply, furrowing his brows in frustration. He stared at her pale face for a moment, then made a decision.

He tilted his head back, took a mouthful of water from the canteen, and leaned down toward her. Without any other options, he was determined to transfer the water directly into her mouth.

Her body flinched faintly as he pressed his lips to hers and let the water flow into her parched mouth. It was a minuscule movement, but it was enough for him to hold onto hope. Yuri held her jaw firmly and gently tilted her head back to ensure she swallowed.

Their lips were pressed together with precision, leaving no space for the water to escape. Yuri didn’t pull away until every drop of water had made its way into her mouth.

Her dry lips began to moisten as her body instinctively started to drink.

“Haah…”

Gulp, gulp. Yuri wasted no time and immediately took another mouthful of water. This time, Heina’s lips responded more eagerly, as if her thirst had awakened her senses. Each time their lips met and parted, her once-dry lips became soft and damp.

A faint flush returned to her pale face. Yuri repeated the process several times, transferring water into her mouth until the canteen was empty. Just as her golden eyelashes fluttered slightly, Heina slowly opened her eyes.

“…Huh?”

The first thing she saw was a blurry pair of eyes staring back at her, impossibly close.

The color of the eyes was unclear due to the proximity, but the gentle gaze was unmistakably fixed on her. For several seconds, Heina wondered if she was dreaming.

Her body was too weak to even move a finger, so she reasoned she was either dead or still trapped in a dream. Deciding it didn’t matter, she let her eyes slide shut again.

The lips that pressed against hers were sweet, soft, and cool, soothing her burning thirst with each movement.