Chương 6: Chapter 6: Ep 2 — The Frost Festival
Sitting within the enchanting bubble, I marveled at the luminous reddish-orange light, forming a magnificent emblem of winter's frost that painted the whole town. From this bird's-eye view, the sight was truly astonishing, akin to witnessing such a masterpiece unfold right before my eyes.
But the true enchantment awaited me below, where lustrous lanterns swayed gently above each vendor's stall. As Arwin and I descended, the warm, inviting air wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, carrying with it the tantalizing scents of spices and roasted chestnuts. It was a sensory symphony that made me feel like an integral part of this glorious festival.
Laughter and giggles filled the air, and it was heartwarming to see every face in town adorned with a cheerful smile. This was undeniably a place where the magic of the festival wasn't just seen; it was deeply felt in every heart and soul, mine included.
Nevertheless, near the central plaza, the townspeople abruptly halted their usual activities as whispers of the Omega in heat spread like wildfire.
'What is it, anyway? Some sort of contagious disease?'
My curiosity got the best of me, as it so often does when something piques my interest. It felt like the world held a tantalizing secret, and I just had to know more. So, driven by that itch to explore, I decided to head down into the bustling plaza.
A woman with fiery crimson hair, cascading in long, wavy tendrils that caressed her waist, resembled a vibrant flame swaying gracefully in the breeze. Her aura exuded strength and a hint of wildness, like a lioness in the prime of her years, even though she appeared to be in her thirties.
She stood there, assisting a young, striking boy with hair as light and ethereal as a clear blue sky. Some of his locks were meticulously braided on the side, while others flowed freely, untouched. His face was etched with pain, a pallor of distress was washing over his features, and each gasp he took seemed like a struggle.
What piqued my curiosity even further was the lingering scent in the air—a sweet aroma, reminiscent of an unknown flower that eluded my classification. It hung in the atmosphere, adding another layer of mystery to the scene.
"Alphas, you know who you are. Drink your suppressants now, or else you'll taste pain you've never felt before. Mark my words!" The woman's voice rang out with a menacing edge, her eyes blazing with authority as they swept over the onlookers.
Even from my vantage point, I could sense the fear radiating from those she addressed. It felt like the stern reprimand of a strict boss, and some people in the crowd instinctively took a step back, their eyes darting nervously as they fumbled for something in their pockets, quickly placing it in their mouths.
"Is it some sort of medicine? Liquid in those vials?" I couldn't help but wonder aloud.
The woman's authoritative tone continued as she turned her attention to the boy, who trembled under her gaze. "How about you, young man? Where's your suppressant? Drink it right away," she commanded. The boy flinched as he did what she said.
Upon noticing the boy's distress, the woman swiftly reassured him. "Fear not, young man. You are safe here. Just give me a moment, and I'll escort you to the Frost Inn."
Her words seemed to bring some relief to the trembling teenager, who, with shaky hands, began to search for a small bag attached to his waist. Despite the difficulty, he persevered, determined to find what he needed. The woman attempted to offer her assistance, but it was a moment too late. A tiny vial slipped from the bag and tumbled to the ground, rolling until it came to a stop near my feet.
The small vial, despite its delicate crystal exterior, seemed impossibly sturdy, as if it were designed to withstand any mishap. Within, a mesmerizing bluish liquid glistened like a fragment of the clearest summer sky.
As I reached down to pick it up, the vial's owner and I locked eyes. His gaze was as piercing as the azure heavens, and in that brief exchange, a sense of familiarity washed over me as if I had glimpsed a long-lost memory in his deep-blue eyes.
A strikingly handsome man with night-dark hair cascading like silken strands swayed gracefully in the wind, along with the blooming wisteria tree's enchanting purple flowers. He stood there with an innate elegance, clad in his customary attire, a gentle and soft smile gracing his features. It was as though he perpetually waited for someone precious, and his eyes, filled with longing, often seemed to find their way to me.
This man has been a recurring presence in my dreams since childhood, as Nazari on Earth. A person I had never met or known in my waking life but who invaded my sleep each night. He was both a source of comfort and a nightmare. Now, as I observed this boy and saw the same hauntingly familiar eyes, it left me with an uncanny sense of connection between the two.
"Why did I suddenly remember him?" I pondered, a whirlwind of questions churning within my mind.
However, my contemplation was interrupted by a striking shift in the woman's demeanor. Her voice, previously commanding and unyielding, had softened significantly as she directed her request to me in the gentlest of tones. "Child over there, could you kindly hand us that suppressant?"
Startled, I just replied with a nod; and despite what's happening, the young boy continued to remain silent, his intense gaze locked onto me as if he were ensnared by some unseen enchantment.
'Never mind his reaction; he needs his medicine.'
Just as I was about to approach them, my path was abruptly blocked by Arwin. Out of nowhere, a colossal man emerged, clutching a cup of beer. His face was flushed, his body swayed with every step, and the hiccups punctuated his clear state of inebriation.
What was even more unsettling were the countless scars that crisscrossed his body. Some appeared to be the result of vicious claws, while others resembled the marks of blades and even arrows. It was undeniable that he had seen his fair share of battles and emerged victorious. He seemed almost proud of these battle-worn marks, as he wasn't wearing a shirt.
Despite his apparent prowess, to me, he appeared to be nothing more than an idiotic ogre.
"Hic, why's it always an alpha?!" the man complained, his unsteady steps taking him closer to the young boy. However, the crimson-haired woman swiftly intervened, blocking his path.
"Sir, please refrain from advancing," she said, her voice surprisingly composed despite the urgency. Her dark eyes, however, remained sharp and determined. She continued, "We're dealing with an emergency. Please don't obstruct our path."
The man's thick, unsightly brows furrowed deeply, clearly agitated by what he had heard. In a fit of fury, he violently slammed the cup of beer onto the ground, shattering it into splintered pieces and causing beer to splatter around.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers, who took alarmed steps backward, clearly afraid of his sudden outburst.
"WHY IS IT ALWAYS AN ALPHA?!" he bellowed in anger, his frustration echoing through the plaza.
The woman remained unwavering, showing no signs of fear or agitation. Her composure was as steady as the tranquil surface of a calm lake. She calmly beckoned and whispered something to the green-haired young man who stood by her, cradling an assortment of street foods in his arms. He appeared to be her assistant, and without hesitation, he hurriedly departed, clearly on an urgent mission.
"It's always them! THEM! The good-looking ones, the smartest, the richest, the strongest. Damn it! Hic*... Always... always looking down on us Betas. Tsk... even the flirtatious Omegas need them. Hic* Bullshit!!! This world is bullshit!" The man's rant continued, fueled by frustration and drunkenness.
His brown eyes, which had been on the verge of closing, suddenly widened when he noticed the young boy standing beside the woman.
"Hic* Come here, boy... I can satisfy your heat too. You're just born to be a slut who wishes to be seeded by anyone, not just some damn Alphas!"
I couldn't comprehend why, but despite not being the intended recipient of his words, a burning rage surged within me. I had an inexplicable desire to tear this person apart and feed him to some savage beast.
As the thought crossed my mind, I was left momentarily stunned. "Wait, what did I just think?"
"My thoughts were abruptly shattered, and my attention snapped back to the young boy. With each passing second, his complexion grew paler. Meanwhile, the woman, deeply engrossed in her heated argument with the drunken man over the person he had cruelly labeled an Omega, appeared utterly oblivious to the boy's deteriorating condition.
I thought she was logical, yet I was wrong. As soon as the green-haired man left, she only further aggravated the ogre-like man, hurling insults at him recklessly.
The townspeople, mere spectators, watched in silence, gripped by fear. None dared to intervene, fearing the ogre-like man's wrath might turn upon them.
It was a tragic reflection of human nature: the instinct to avoid pain at all costs, a primal fear of being hurt.
This, in turn, dredged up painful memories of that fateful day when I pleaded for my sister's life.
I was taken aback as the young boy stared directly at me. His eyes pleaded like a puppy, begging for the return of the object I had picked.
'What kind of ailment could cause such suffering for him? Regardless, I knew I had to help.'
In the middle of this conflict, a battle between a lion and an ogre, I cautiously approached the young boy and offered him his medicine.
"...Thank you..." he whispered, his gratitude conveyed through a feeble smile, despite his battle with pain.
It was at that precise moment that the other two, the lion and the ogre, finally became aware of my presence.
"Kid, I appreciate your help, but this is a dangerous place. Where are your parents?" The woman questioned me with concern.
I could only let out an "Ah" when the young boy unexpectedly leaned on me. He was much taller and heavier, making it a struggle to support his weight and remain steady. Yet, witnessing his agonized expression, with sweat forming on his forehead, I summoned all my strength to hold him up and gently patted his back.
"Rest... everything will be alright."
It was a phrase I had borrowed from the man I had always dreamed of—words he often repeated.
I could sense the young boy's breath gradually calming, and the intense, sweet fragrance that had enveloped him began to fade.
'What could it be?' I wondered.
"You did a great job, kid. Now, we just need to make sure he gets some rest at the Frost Inn."
The woman offered a slight smile before tousling my hair playfully.
"It's strange," she remarked, "this young boy was quite resistant when I tried to hold him, but with you, he seems much more at ease."
"Hey, woman! You dare to ridicule me? You want to be beaten up, huh?! Hic, hand over that omega if you don't want to get hurt."
This man emitted false bravado, unaware that a single punch from the woman could make him unconscious. It baffled me why some drunken individuals always sought confrontation, engaging in such foolish behavior.
The woman clicked her tongue, her fingers curling into a menacing fist. "Try me," she retorted, her confidence and eerie smugness etched across her face.
Even though I wasn't quite sure what this 'omega' thing meant, the way the man spoke and the tone he used made it painfully obvious that he was insulting the young boy, treating him as if he were nothing more than a disposable tool. People like that, who belittle others and underestimate them, were the ones I couldn't stand. His condescending look, assuming we were weak...
'Congratulations, you made my blood boil.'
The ogre-like man abruptly ceased his attempts, his gaze fixed on me. I noticed his body jerk back, a slight tremor running through him as if he were suddenly afraid of something.
"W-w-what? What's with your eyes, kid?" he stammered.
Perplexed, my brows furrowed as I thought, 'What is he talking about?' I simply glared at him.
The woman, too, turned her attention towards me and then abruptly flinched.
I couldn't comprehend their reactions. I felt confused. Why were they afraid? It was abundantly clear how much weaker I was compared to them.
"This little child dares to frighten me? The mighty Barbarus scared of a tiny insect?!" His voice, filled with disbelief, trembled slightly, mirroring his hulking frame. "Do you dare insult me like those damn alphas?!!!"
Suddenly, the ogre-like man lunged, attempting to crush me and the young boy with his enormous hands, each one the size of my head. The crimson-haired woman swiftly shielded us with her body and was poised to counter the attack with her fist.
However, they all halted, their actions frozen by the eerie chill that emanated from a voice full of command.
"Stop."
We stood there, petrified and afraid, as if trapped on a frozen mountaintop, surrounded by the haunting melody of a solitary woman's eerie song.
Arwin, in his youthful form, advanced toward us with an air of elegance and quiet authority. His long strands of hair, resembling silver moonlight, glistened in the darkness, giving off an otherworldly nobility.
Strangely, I noticed how the woman gasped in shock upon seeing Arwin, and she suddenly froze in place, her eyes locked on the ground, blinking repeatedly.
I couldn't help but wonder, 'Is she terrified?'
"What's this other kid doing here? You want a taste of my fist, huh?!"
Arwin turned his gaze toward the owner of the gruff voice and calmly retorted, "Your ugliness has marred this festival. Perhaps it's best if you keep your mouth shut and go home."
Arwin's unexpectedly blunt words only fueled the ogre-like man's rage further. His thick brows drew closer together, and the veins on his face bulged, making him appear even uglier.
As the insults continued, the simmering volcano within him grew more violent, desiring to obliterate everything in its path.
With a furious snarl, the ogre-like man reached for the enormous axe strapped to his back, intent on slicing Arwin in half and anyone else in his way.
In this tense and fearsome situation, I found myself strangely unafraid. After witnessing all that had transpired during my short stay, I could tell that Arwin was immensely strong, incomparably more powerful than this man.
However, Arwin remained utterly still, not averting his gaze or blinking, even as the blade drew dangerously close to his head.
"ARWIN!!!" I cried out desperately. 'What is he doing?'
Arwin simply gazed at me with a smile. In the very next moment, a familiar figure appeared between them, wearing an unusually gleeful expression.
"You're late," Arwin scolded irritably.
"I apologize, brother," Leonard replied, casually holding the blade of the axe with his bare hands as if it were a trivial matter.
The ogre-like man attempted to retract his weapon, but it was too late. In a mere moment, Leonard had reduced the axe to nothing more than crumbled metal with a mere pinch. The man was on the verge of shouting, but before he could, a sword appeared in Leonard's hand, still in its scabbard. Without any hesitation, Leonard tapped the ogre-like man's head.
I heard an unsettling crack, and in an instant, the man fell unconscious, pitifully defeated.
My jaw hung open in disbelief.
These siblings were unimaginably powerful.
'Who have I just become acquainted with?'
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