Author: Nikss

🫧

The south side of the cabin received especially good sunlight.

Through the sparsely spaced trees, the midday sun poured down in a dazzling scene, sparkling beautifully like a single painting.

The green leaves spread wide, as if joyfully welcoming Apollo. Birds, wind, and trees were all singing together in the joy of nature.

On one side of the sunlit vegetable garden, a crookedly grown grapevine was heavy with luscious clusters of grapes.

Langsion picked one grape that glittered like a jewel in the sunlight and put it into his mouth.

Sweet juice spread, gently moistening the inside of his mouth.

Rustle—

Scylla, who had pushed through the herb patch, saw the grapes and her eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re here?”

“They’ve gotten huge. What did you do to make the fruit grow this big? When I first saw them, they were only about the size of a baby fingernail.”

Amazed at how quickly the grapes had plumped up, Scylla strode over and began inspecting the vine from every angle.

“It’s a fast-growing variety.”

He was glad he had pre-sprouted the seeds and transplanted the seedlings.

If anyone learned that a grapevine, which had been nothing more than a seed just three months ago, had grown this large and was already bearing fruit, they would naturally become suspicious.

Before Scylla could ask another question, Langsion plucked a grape and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes instantly widened.

“Wow…”

An involuntary exclamation of admiration escaped her. Her pupils grew moist with emotion.

It was a reaction almost everyone who tasted his grapes showed, but for some reason, it made Langsion feel especially pleased.

Suddenly, his gaze fixed on her cheek, which twitched slightly as she savored the grape’s flavor. He placed another grape into her mouth. She chewed it as if she had been waiting.

The sweet fragrance of the juice spread.

Taking advantage of the moment when her attention was fully on the grape, Langsion lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips and the back of his hand.

During the incident with the venomous snake of Thyrsos, her skin had felt damp, but now it was completely dry.

It was rough, almost like dried tree bark.

Just as Scylla had marveled at the grape’s taste, Langsion quietly marveled at this.

“What are you doing?”

“Master’s skin…”

“What about my skin?”

“I’ll find some balm for you.”

How could a human’s skin be this hard and rough?

“It’ll cost a bit, but if we go through a merchant, it should be possible.”

At his pitying yet completely serious gaze, Scylla scrunched her face in displeasure.

🫧

Scylla, wearing gloves, sliced the red deer antler mushroom with a stone knife, crushing it as she went.

The dried red deer antler mushroom crumbled like it was falling apart. She divided it into several pieces and then meticulously ground it into a fine powder.

Among all the mushrooms she possessed, the red deer antler mushroom was the most toxic; inhaling even its spores or powder directly could lead to death.

Scylla worked with the utmost care, breathing in thin, thread-like breaths.

But only for a moment—then she stealthily turned her head. Through the cabin window, she could see Langsion moving about.

The instant he seemed about to look in her direction, Scylla quickly ducked her head.

‘What is he doing?’

“I’m trying to make something.”

He had said that.

“Something even more delicious than any fruit you’ve ever tasted.”

‘Exactly what are you making?’

Remembering his strangely confident attitude and the grape flavor so sweet it made her tongue tingle, saliva naturally pooled in her mouth.

Whatever it was, it would probably be good.

It had already been over three months since she started living with Langsion.

Contrary to her initial expectation that he would collapse and leave soon, he was still here.

Despite his youthful appearance, he seemed to have experienced every hardship life could throw at someone—he knew how to do so many things.

Though Scylla hated to admit it, she was quite satisfied with him.

Honestly, it was hard not to be.

She was old and ugly, and no one in the city had ever liked someone like her. She had grown tired of being pushed around by people and had crawled all the way out here—that part was fine—but food had become the problem.

Milk and cheese, things easily obtainable in the city, were outrageously expensive here and could only be had by meeting hunters or herbalists.

Yet Langsion, who had declared himself her disciple, somehow brought fresh ingredients and cooked unbelievably delicious meals.

The taste was simply astonishing.

Scylla took out some dried deer meat she had set aside as a snack for Nero and chewed on it.

Even this tasted better than the large batches of dried rabbit meat she had prepared herself.

And then there was Langsion’s lavish meals. If he ever left, she would have to go back to eating those dry foods like before.

‘I don’t know how long Langsion will stay here, but when he does leave… I’ll miss him.’

As she forced down the last piece of deer meat, Scylla found herself thinking, unconsciously, I hope he doesn’t leave.

She immediately shook her head firmly.

‘Stop it. He’s going to leave anyway.’

She shouldn’t hope for such things. She shouldn’t dream that someone would stay by her side.

The warmth of another human being—something she hadn’t felt in so long—was making her heart go soft and mushy.

Scylla forced her chest to harden again. She pushed Langsion, who had begun to feel close without her realizing it, firmly outside the boundary line she had drawn in her mind.

It wasn’t difficult.

Langsion was in a completely different position from her. He was young, capable, and healthy. Wherever he went, people would welcome him.

Even if not now, someday he would find this place stifling and leave her.

Scylla could easily picture that future. And it wouldn’t be very far off.

Then the familiar sensation returned.

In this vast, vast world, the feeling that she alone was breathing.

A loneliness so familiar it had become tedious. Even wrapped in the solitude that clung to her like a second skin, Scylla remained calm and composed.

After she had become perfectly, completely alone, she had accepted the fact that she would remain lonely until this stubborn breath finally stopped.

Someone might stay by her side for a little while, but only briefly—like a migratory bird that eventually flies away.

Having forcibly severed the attention that had been flowing toward Langsion, Scylla tried to concentrate on grinding the red deer antler mushroom again.

But not even a few minutes later, she stealthily lifted her head once more. She kept stealing glances out the window.

‘Damn it, I’m dying of curiosity.’

That’s one thing, and this is another.

What on earth was he planning to make with those extraordinary grapes that couldn’t even be compared to ordinary wild berries?

How much better could something already delicious become?

A pie stuffed full of grapes?

Or grape jam?

No way. If it were just jam, it would be better to eat the grapes plain. She doubted Langsion would have called something so ordinary “special.”

Just what kind of life had he lived?

He seemed to know so many things quietly and subtly—maybe it was some dessert she had never even tasted.

Something common like grape cake, or perhaps a grape tart?

If it were the kind of snack aristocrats enjoyed, she probably wouldn’t even recognize it if she saw it.