Savage Forest - Chapter 123.1

Only the sound of rain filled the air.

Enya stood frozen at the entrance.

It was strange. Time seemed to have stopped, yet the sound of the rain continued.

Pitter-patter.

Despite the noise being bothersome, Enya couldn’t bring herself to blink.

Next to him was a wolf. It seemed to be the same one that had first dug into the ground. Enya realized it was the wolf that had followed their party throughout the journey—Spot. As if recognizing her, the wolf sniffed a few times before circling in place.

‘So, you sent this person to me.’

Enya stared blankly at the wolf before turning her gaze back to Tarhan.

She had thought about their reunion before.

She had imagined that when she saw him again, she would instinctively burst into tears. Like a traveler finding their homeland after many years, she thought she would laugh maniacally before finally collapsing into his arms, crying her heart out in the warmth of his embrace.

But in reality, she couldn’t utter a single word to him.

It felt as if cobwebs had formed over her lips.

Looking at Tarhan’s face, all she could feel was shock. She felt like someone caught in the most humiliating moment, showing her worst self to the person she loved most. Her entire body froze. Her limbs felt as though they had detached from her flesh, rigid and unresponsive.

She could only remain silent. Her lips refused to part.

The most intense feeling was anger.

She was furious… furious at the state of this foolish man.

His body was covered in wounds. It wasn’t just because he looked dirty and exhausted. After all, the Tarhan in her memories was always covered in dirt and dried blood. She had tended to him countless times when he teetered between life and death.

Their lives had never known the concept of an easy path.

No matter how filthy or disgraceful he appeared now, she couldn’t care less.

…But those eyes.

The way he looked at her felt as if it were stealing her breath away.

His eyes seemed to infect her with sickness in an instant.

Tarhan’s eyes, once dull like a faded flag, had lost all vitality. Beneath the pain clouding his gaze lay a history of suffering—dark and jagged—layers of anguish wrapped around him like a second skin. Melancholy, despair, self-reproach, and longing were etched into his expression.

Despite being alive, he resembled a faded corpse.

A man who had been marked for death.

Enya stared at Tarhan, seeing the same lifelessness in his eyes that she had witnessed on Senu’s face throughout the night.

The man who had once moved forward, showing her hope with every step of his right foot, only to lose that hope with every step of his left, now had no emotions left in his gaze. He was like a spark extinguished, crushed beneath a heel.

The figure before her, resembling dark ash clinging to his feet, stood as a hollow shell in human form.

In that moment, Enya felt a deep sense of resentment toward him.

Why now?

At the moment when she felt her weakest.

At the point where she thought she could no longer endure.

In the midst of the darkness that had been gnawing at her, he had managed to find her. This man, who appeared before her with a deadened spirit.

Anger surged within her.

What was he thinking?

If only she could throw the wet, muddy ground into his face. She wanted to hit his hardened chest, slap his chiseled cheeks over and over, and scream.

Did he think she was some kind of god?

Was it so that she should comfort him now?

Did he think it made sense to appear before her like this, just because she had briefly left his side?

At the same time, Enya wanted to collapse in front of him and cry. She wanted to cling to his legs and beg for forgiveness.

She hadn’t meant to leave him like this.

If she had to stand before him in this state, she wished she had never left his side in the first place. She should have kept embracing this pitiful man, caring for him forever.

Caught between these conflicting emotions, Enya found herself speechless.

However, Tarhan seemed different.

Kneeling at the entrance of the rain-soaked cave, he clenched his fists as if trying to swallow the words he desperately wanted to say.

He still couldn’t meet her gaze.

With his broad shoulders appearing so pitiful, he bowed his head like a sinner, trembling like a rusted iron rod driven weakly into the ground.

“…Why is it like this?”

Finally, he whispered.

Enya held her breath to listen to his words, which could only be heard with her nerves on high alert. His mud-streaked hands clenched into fists, the veins visibly standing out.

“Why is it like this, Enya…?”

But it seemed that Tarhan was no longer speaking to Enya. He opened his lips again, his voice was a fragile whisper poured out in vain.

“I thought that if we met again, at least it wouldn’t be like this. I imagined that even if I rolled in mud or soaked in blood… you would be comfortable in your warm bed, eating well and dreaming happy dreams. That’s all I wanted, and I endured for this long. So why… why are you like this now?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Tarhan’s face contorted in pain, and he collapsed before her once more.

He was almost sprawled on the ground now.

His head bowed, his arms began to tremble again. The relentless rain beat down on his back, creating graceful arcs.

“…I decided that when I finally found you, I would kill myself. I swore it didn’t matter how you looked. Even if I found only your finger, I would recognize you. I would collect your body, mend the torn parts, and bury you in a sunny place with the amulet stone. And then I would stab my own throat in front of you and follow you…”