The Place Where The Frozen Moon Has Settled

A quiet night had fallen. Lavi was on watch—a task he had volunteered for.

He had stacked an enormous pile of firewood he’d gathered from the forest beside the campfire and was now staring intently at Sel’s tent. Determination burned in his eyes.

“Alright, let’s see how this goes,” he thought.

Lavi began tossing logs onto the fire, increasing its intensity.

The thought of Sel sleeping wrapped in Eric’s-scented sleeping bag, the one Eric had handed over, was unacceptable to him.

Not wanting to confront the issue directly and risk coming off as petty, Lavi decided to take another approach.

“Tonight, I’ll be her personal blazing sun,” he muttered, starting to stoke the fire with the resolve of the sun undressing the traveler in the fable.

He hoped Sel would toss aside the sleeping bag she claimed smelled like Eric.

In the end, his plan worked.

Sel, basking in the fiery warmth that could rival a furnace, had kicked the sleeping bag Eric gave her to the foot of her tent and slept without it.

But there was a problem. The blazing sun hadn’t just made Sel discard her sleeping bag.

Another camper, stripped of their comfort, was stalking around the campsite radiating a menacing aura early in the morning.

That camper was Eric.

Holding an armful of firewood, Eric was now hurling logs at Lavi, who was retreating backward.

Every time Eric threw a log at Lavi, it landed on the ground with the force of a bullet, driving deep into the dirt.

By now, Lavi’s tent was riddled with so many holes from the logs that it looked like a ragged mess.

“A man shouldn’t be so sensitive,” Lavi muttered under his breath as he hurried away.

Still, perhaps out of some remaining sense of guilt, he didn’t dare block the logs Eric was throwing.

“Sensitive?” Eric’s lips curled into a cold smile.

The dark circles under his eyes, caused by a sleepless night, contrasted sharply with his pale skin.

“You, on the other hand, should stop dodging and take your punishment, you little bastard. I’ll make sure you sleep forever.”

Wham! A perfectly aimed log came flying straight at Lavi’s forehead.

Caught off guard, the log struck Lavi’s forehead with a loud thud.

“Ow!” Lavi cried out, dramatically falling to the ground.

“Why the hell are you throwing logs at my face, you lunatic?!”

“I was aiming for your eyes, but I missed. Be grateful, you idiot.”

Smirking, Eric kicked the fallen Lavi squarely in the back.

Anyone else would have been sent flying, but Lavi, solid as a rock, barely budged. He simply rubbed his forehead.

“What if it bruises?! Damn it, do you know how important this face is…”

This was the face he needed to seduce Sel. Lavi was worried it might be damaged.

Hearing this, Eric let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Important face? Yeah, the face of a criminal who roasted mercenaries alive overnight.”

Eric, now seething, landed another powerful kick.

Despite the force, Lavi swayed but remained upright, like an unyielding top.

The campsite was mostly deserted.

The mercenaries, having tossed and turned all night in the stifling heat, had only just fallen into a deep sleep at dawn and were still dreaming.

But the priests were different.

A group of five priests, dressed neatly for their morning meditation practice, was returning from a nearby stream when they stumbled upon the scene: Lavi sprawled on the ground and Eric, clad in nothing but his undergarments, kicking him.

“Good heavens!”

“What is this?! Brother, there’s someone defiling public decency with that indecent attire!”

The shocked priests froze in place, each interpreting the scene differently as their eyes darted around.

“Clearly, a demon has possessed Brother Lavirus and caused him to act out!”

“Could it be that Brother Eric succumbed to heatstroke from last night’s heat?”

“Even so, wearing such scandalous… lace…”

One priest, struggling to describe the situation, shut his mouth and averted his gaze. He then dropped to his knees and raised his hands to the sky.

“Oh, Goddess, in your boundless mercy, please bless this poor soul with enough fabric to lead a modest life!”

The murmuring priests quickly drew attention, and the campsite became noisy.

Sir Graham, the commander of the knights, emerged from his tent, his face marked with irritation.

“What’s going on, priests? I could hear the commotion… Count Eric Tylen?!”

Graham frowned deeply.

He stared in disbelief at Eric, dressed in nothing but a single undergarment, kicking Lavi, who was taking it all without resistance.

****

After the chaotic morning, the expedition resumed its journey.

Sir Graham seemed oddly intent on avoiding Eric, but Eric didn’t pay it much mind.

“This journey’s been rough, seriously,” Philip grumbled as he slashed through a low thicket of brambles.

A reptilian monster hidden within the brambles leaped out, but Philip sent it flying with a single knee strike.

Sel watched the scene with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

“At this rate, sparks are going to start flying out of your knees, Philip.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Sel. I’ve been practicing the training you taught me, and it’s really paid off.”

Though the training had been grueling, Philip added with a bright smile.

Philip, with his sun-kissed skin and wide grin that revealed his white teeth, exuded a warm charm.

“By the way, Sel, have you been looking for something this whole expedition? You keep glancing around.”

“I just have something I need to check.”

“Check? What is it?”

“That I have the strength to keep moving forward.”

Sel smiled wryly and turned her gaze back to the path ahead.

Philip didn’t fully understand her meaning but chose not to press further.

With each step Sel took, she let go of the lingering hope that her mother might return.

And now, the reality that she was truly alone had become not just an emotion but an undeniable fact.

It matched her stride, step for step.

Perhaps because each step carried such profound meaning for her, the march didn’t feel all that difficult.

Soon, it was time for a break.

Sel sat down on the ground and began chewing on the jerky Eric had given her.

Tall oak trees loomed high, their presence commanding the scenery. As she gazed absentmindedly, there he was—Lavi—standing amidst the trees.

Perched deliberately to catch her attention, Lavi gestured from atop a branch, signaling her to follow.

“Is he calling me over?”

Rising from her spot, Sel walked in the direction of Lavi’s subtle summons. He led her to a secluded area, only halting when they were far from prying eyes.

As he fidgeted nervously, Sel broke the silence.

“Why did you call me, Sir?”

“This.”

Lavi extended his hand toward her. Resting in his palm was a handful of bright red fruit—wild raspberries.

“I just… wanted to give you this.”

“Where did you find such a rare treat?”

Sel couldn’t help but marvel. Fresh fruit was a luxury during a march.

“I came across them on the way. Fruits from the Black Forest are sweeter than usual. You like sweet things, don’t you?”

Lavi’s ears turned as red as the raspberries.

Each step Sel took over the rough terrain stirred in him a yearning to carry her on his back. How could someone so precious endure such hardship? The thought was unbearable.

At the very least, he could offer her a moment of sweetness. That’s why, during their last break, he had rushed to the raspberry grove far away and returned with this prize.

Sel looked down at the raspberries in his hand, silent. She knew the surroundings well, having scoured the area in her search for traces of her mother. There wasn’t a single raspberry bush nearby.

“Thank you, Commander. I’ll enjoy them,” she said hesitantly, offering her gratitude.

Taking a handful from Lavi’s palm, she stuffed them into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed up like a squirrel hoarding food, and Lavi couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle.

“Are they good?”

“Yesh, very goo’!”

Her speech slurred as her mouth overflowed with the juicy fruit. Crimson juice trickled down her lips, staining her lower lip.

Lavi’s gaze faltered, his composure wavering. Even in broad daylight, his rationality felt like it might slip away.

Right now, the most tempting fruit wasn’t the raspberries. It was her.

His throat went dry as he swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam’s apple betraying his struggle.

“Commander? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

Pulled from his reverie by her voice, Lavi glanced at her before lowering his gaze to her stained lips.

“You’re making it too obvious I gave you something. What if someone notices?”

Reaching out, Lavi gently wiped the corner of her lips with his thumb. The crimson smudge disappeared, leaving only her soft skin behind.

Lingering for a moment, Lavi savored the touch before finally withdrawing his hand. His thumb, now tinged red with juice, caught his eye.

Without thinking, he brought it to his lips, tasting the sweetness.

Lavi’s eyes were fixed on her lips, and Sel’s breath hitched under the weight of his gaze.

That look… It felt as if he was yearning for something more.

Her heart raced. Sel quickly averted her eyes, pressing a hand to her flushed cheek in an attempt to cool it down.

Lavi’s voice, low and steady, broke through the moment.

“Sel, I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Yesterday, you mentioned Eric’s sleeping bag smelled like him. Do I… have a scent too?”

He couldn’t help but elevate himself, using the word “scent” instead of “smell” to distinguish himself from Eric.

“Hmm. You smell like wisteria, Commander.”

“Wisteria?”

“Yes. It’s a tree that blooms with beautiful purple flowers in spring. Its scent is very pleasant.”

Lavi’s mind drifted to memories of the wisteria-scented oils he had used since childhood. His lips curled into a smile.

“So, I do have a scent you remember me by.”

That soothed his earlier unease. He had been bothered all night by how Sel could identify Eric’s belongings just by scent. It had gnawed at him, fueling his frustration to the point of overloading the campfire with logs.

But now, just one word from her melted away his petty resentment. It was almost laughable.

Suppressing a grin, Lavi cleared his throat. “Do you have a question for me too?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you keep taking down monsters I’ve already marked? It’s happened more than once.”

“What?”

Thrown off, Lavi blinked in confusion.

During battles, Lavi often charged in like an enraged bull, slashing through monsters with breathtaking precision. His final flourish was always theatrical—worthy of a hero’s tale—and his gaze would inevitably land on her through the scope of her rifle.

His smirk, ever so smug, made it clear he was aware of what he’d done.

“In battle, there’s no ‘yours’ or ‘mine,’ but I’m sure my bullet hit first. Yet you intercept it and finish the job. Why?”

It was blatant kill-stealing.

“Well…”

“Fight fair, Commander.”

Pouting slightly, Sel voiced her displeasure.

Lavi opened his mouth to explain but hesitated, unsure how to justify himself.

Sel continued, “And don’t get hurt. You’re supposed to be strong, but look at your forehead.”

Her fingers brushed lightly against the bruise on his brow—a mark left by Eric’s thrown log earlier that morning.

Her touch felt soothing, as if it could heal him.

“You’re not someone who should get hurt, Commander. I was worried.”

“Sel…”