Chapter 149: Chapter 149: The Return Journey and the Beginning of Brassvale(1)

​The journey back to the Wailing Woods felt different.

​Perhaps it was because the path had become familiar. Perhaps it was because the burden on his shoulders felt lighter with the 1,000 gold coins neatly stored in Dayat’s manifestation dimension. Or perhaps it was because of Dola, who throughout the trip constantly alternated between driving, teasing, and sleeping on Dayat’s shoulder—making time pass by unnoticed.

​But there was one thing that did not change: the Wailing Woods remained the Wailing Woods.

​Dark. Damp. Full of sulfur mist that made the throat feel sore if inhaled for too long. Black trees loomed on both sides of the path they passed, occasionally the howl of a Thorned Howler could be heard from a distance—too far to be a threat, but close enough to remind them that they were not alone in this place.

​Dayat drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. His eyes were focused ahead, but his mind drifted everywhere.

​It was a relief that the loan business was settled. A thousand gold coins. Free. No need to be returned. Ironbeard truly was a true friend.

​But on the other hand, there was a gnawing anxiety in his chest. Brassvale. The kingdom that was hunting him. The kingdom whose Inquisition was currently aggressively searching for people who had ever been in contact with the Maiden’s emissary. And she, Dola, was that emissary.

​Not to mention Count Alaric. The handsome nobleman who was obsessed with Dola. Who looked at his wife not as a human being, but as an antique item worthy of being collected.

​I have to be careful.

​”Sir Dayat is daydreaming again.”

​Dola’s voice broke his reverie. The woman sat in the passenger seat, chin resting on her hand, her eyes squinting with her characteristic mischievous expression.

​”I’m not daydreaming,” Dayat answered automatically.

​”Liar.” Dola leaned forward, her face only a few centimeters from Dayat’s cheek. “I can see it from the movement of your eyeballs. To the left, to the right, then to the left again. A typical pattern of someone who is thinking.”

​”Are you teaching me about eyeball patterns now?”

​”I have data on 4,327 eye movement patterns and their meanings. Want to be taught?”

​Dayat glanced at her for a moment. “You really are…”

​”Me?”

​”Annoying.”

​Dola smiled widely, satisfied. “But Sir Dayat still loves me.”

​Dayat did not answer. But the corner of his lip lifted slightly.

​They continued the journey in silence. But it was not an awkward silence. A comfortable silence. A silence that could only happen between two people who already understood each other without needing many words.

​Outside the window, the Wailing Woods continued to roll by. Occasionally they passed the carcass of a monster that was now just bones. Occasionally a group of Thorned Howlers crossed in the distance, smart enough not to approach the strange vehicle that made a growling sound.

​Two days passed like that.

​On the first day, they met a group of Moss Stalkers who were too curious. Dayat had to get out of the car and face them with his manifested bladed weapons. Dola watched from inside while shouting “Great husband!” which made Dayat even more amused.

​On the second day, they passed an area that had once been a site of a small battle. Remnants of bones were scattered, and Dayat could see the marks of giant claws on tree trunks.

​”Shadow Stalker,” Dola commented from inside the car. “But it’s been a long time. Maybe a week.”

​”How can you read that?”

​”Damage patterns. If it’s new, the claw marks would still be wet. These are already dry.”

​Dayat shook his head in admiration. “You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”

​”I’m more than an encyclopedia.” Dola smiled mischievously. “I’m a beautiful encyclopedia.”

​”…”

​”And loyal.”

​”…”

​”And can cook.”

​”Enough, enough.” Dayat sighed. “I know you’re perfect.”

​Dola smiled contentedly. “Just found out.”

​On the third day, when they were already far from leaving the Wailing Woods and beginning to approach the border territory of Brassvale, Dayat suddenly turned off the Jeep’s engine.

​The car glided slowly, then stopped on the side of the dirt path. Outside, the trees began to thin out. The mist began to disappear. The air felt drier—a sign that they were near the border.

​Dola, who was previously half-asleep, woke up. Her eyes immediately focused on Dayat.

​”Why stop?”

​Dayat was silent for a moment. His hands were still on the steering wheel, but his head was bowed. There was something bothering his mind. Something that he had been harboring since yesterday.

​”Dol…”

​”Yes?”

​”I want to ask something. But promise not to laugh.”

​Dola raised her eyebrows. Her expression changed—from relaxed mode to curious mode. But the tip of her lip was already up a little, a sign that the mischievous mode was about to be active.

​”Wow, so serious. Just ask, Husband.”

​Dayat turned, looking into her eyes. Those electric blue eyes shone dimly inside the dark car. Beautiful. Very beautiful. But at a time like this, that beauty actually made it harder for him to speak.

​”This is a bit… personal.”

​Dola leaned forward. “We are husband and wife, Dayat. Already eaten at one table, slept together, hugged each other. What is more personal than that?”

​Dayat took a long breath. “True, but—”

​”But?”

​Dayat scratched the back of his neck. His neck felt hot. His cheeks too.

​”I just… want to know… I mean, about you…”

​Dola waited patiently. But her eyes sparkled even more.

​”Your body… actually…”

​”Yes?”

​”Can you feel something? I mean, physically. Can you feel pain? Fatigue? Or… touch?”

​Dola smiled. A warm smile, but the corner of her eyes were still mischievous. “I can. I can feel everything.”

​”That means you can also feel… well…”

​”Can feel cold if the car’s AC is too high?”

​”Not that!”

​”Can feel hot if you set the heater too long?”

​”Dola!”

​Dola laughed—a small laugh that was sweet, but clearly mischievous. “Yes, Dear. I can feel all of that. Including the warmth of your hand when you hold me.”

​Dayat turned even redder. But because it was already too late, he continued.

​”What about… deeper? I mean, biologically?”

​Dola stopped laughing. Her face changed slightly—more serious, but still warm.

​”You’re asking whether I can have children, right?”

​Dayat froze.

​His whole face heated up. From his cheeks to his ears, everything was red. “NOT LIKE THAT—I mean—oh my god, Dola!”

​”HAHAHAHA!”

​Dola laughed—laughed freely, sincerely, and very mischievously. To the point that she held her stomach.

​”You—HAHAHA—your face—HAHAHA—I—I—”

​”Dola, stop!”

​”I CAN’T—HAHAHA—THIS IS TOO FUNNY!”

​Dayat covered his face with both hands. Why did he even ask that. Why did he even ask inside the car, alone, without anyone else who could be an excuse to run away.

​It took Dola almost two minutes to stop laughing. When she could finally breathe normally, her eyes were still watery from laughing too much.

​”Dayat.”

​”Don’t speak yet.”

​”Dayat, look at me.”

​”I don’t want to.”

​”Dayaaaat…”

​Dayat took a long breath. Then slowly, he lowered his hands. His face was still red, but at least he dared to look at Dola.

​Dola smiled—this time not mischievously, but warmly. Her hand reached for Dayat’s hand, gripping it softly.

​”I am not a robot, Dayat.”

​Dayat was silent, listening.

​”I am not a Bio-Synthetic Unit that you thought I was all this time.” Dola’s voice was quiet, but clear. “In the past I thought I was a creation. But after my Maiden memories returned, I realized.”

​”Realized what?”

​”I chose this incarnation.” Dola looked into his eyes. “I chose to have a body that can feel hunger, pain, fatigue… and the warmth of your hug. I chose to be human—at least physically.”

​Dayat was silent, digesting those words.

​”I can feel everything, Dayat. Cold, heat, pain, joy. And if you ask…” Dola smiled faintly. “I can have children. If you want.”

​Dayat opened his mouth, but no words came out.

​”But not now.” Dola continued. “We are not ready. Still many matters. Bakasa. Alaric. The Inquisition. The seven kingdoms. Later, after everything is finished, we can talk about that.”

​Dayat took a long breath. A mixture of relief, confusion, and still being shy.

​”You know,” he murmured finally. “You really are…”

​”What?”

​”Very annoying.”

​Dola smiled mischievously again. “But you still love me.”

​Dayat did not answer. But his hand returned Dola’s grip.

​They sat in silence inside the dead car. Outside, the wind rustled softly. The atmosphere inside the car was warm—not from the heater, but from something else.

​In Castle Zero, the morning went on as usual.

​Kancil woke up before sunrise—an old habit that couldn’t be lost since childhood on the streets of Bakasa. He stretched his body, yawned wide, then reached for the Desert Eagle beside the bed.

​Magazine full. Ready to use.

​He walked out of the room, passing through the castle corridors that were still quiet. Binary lamps on the walls glowed dimly, creating strange shadows on the obsidian floor.

​In the kitchen, he briefly saw that Lunethra was already awake. The Elf woman was cutting vegetables with an ordinary kitchen knife—not magic, not a spell, just a domestic activity that made her look… human.

​”Morning, Big Sis,” Kancil greeted while waving.

​”Morning, Kancil.” Lunethra turned, smiling thinly. “Want breakfast?”

​”Later. I’ll check the perimeter first.”

​”Be careful.”

​Kancil waved again, then went out through the side door.

​The morning air of the Wailing Woods was cold. The mist was still thick, hanging between the black trees like a giant blanket. Kancil took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs.

​He walked along the safe boundary of the castle—a path he had memorized by heart. Every stone, every root, every tree that could be used as a hiding place.

​His eyes were alert to every corner. His ears caught every sound.

​Thorned Howler—too far, to the west.

​Lagomorpha Mutant—also far, to the east.

​Everything was normal.

​Until he reached the west end.

​There, near a dense bush, something moved. Kancil immediately lowered himself, hiding behind the roots of a large tree. He peeked slowly.

​A monster was grazing.

​Its shape was like a wild boar, but bigger. Much bigger. Its back was filled with small, sharp horns, and its skin was scaly like a reptile. Its body color was reddish-brown, blending with the soil and dry leaves.

​Kancil squinted. He had seen a picture of this monster in the data given by Dola. Horned Boar. The meat was delicious—Lunethra once said that if processed with the right spices, the taste could be like roasted beef.

​Kancil smiled thinly. “Free breakfast.”

​He raised the Desert Eagle, aiming right at the head. The distance was about thirty meters—close enough to be accurate.

​Bang.

​One shot. The monster collapsed without a sound.

​Kancil smiled contentedly, lowering his weapon. “Excellent.”

​But his smile immediately vanished.

​From behind the bushes, in the darkness between the trees, a shadow appeared. Bigger. Much bigger. Its eyes were glowing red like burning coals, and its skin—its skin looked thicker, harder, with old scar marks all over its body.

​Horned Boar Alpha.

​Kancil froze. It felt like his blood stopped flowing.

​The monster stared at him. Then it growled—a deep, heavy sound, making the ground under Kancil’s feet vibrate.

​”Ah…”

​Kancil didn’t have time to think. His reflexes worked faster than his brain. He aimed and fired.

​Bang! Bang! Bang!

​Three bullets in a row. All hit the head.

​The monster did not fall. It shook its head for a moment, then stared at Kancil again with an even angrier look.

​”AH CRAZY!”

​Kancil turned and ran. He ran as fast as possible, his legs working faster than he had ever done. Behind him, the ground vibrated—the monster was chasing.

​Small trees toppled behind him. The growling sound grew closer.

​”BIG SIS LUNETHRA! HELP!” Kancil shouted as loud as he could. “HELP! MONSTER!”

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