Chapter 22

"Old lady, did you say that Soma has caught the 'Warrior's Cold'?"

"Most likely, that's the case."

Shemul, who had been asking about Soma's condition, listened as the old lady replied. She had given Soma a calming medicinal bath and let him sleep.

This was a rare condition that affected young warriors of Zoan. It occurred when a warrior first took a life in battle or narrowly escaped death, causing their emotions to become numb, their reactions to slow down, or even to become aggressive or suffer from insomnia. However, since the Zoan people were originally a hunting tribe and were accustomed to taking animal lives, and were taught about combat from a young age, such symptoms usually lasted only a few hours to a few weeks.

Therefore, it was called the 'Warrior's Cold,' a temporary illness that affected inexperienced warriors. In modern terms, it could be described as ASD (Acute Stress Disorder), a transient condition that manifests as a neurosis due to a traumatic experience, but naturally resolves within a few hours to a few weeks.

"I see. Then that's good."

Although Shemul thought Soma's condition seemed more severe than the typical 'Warrior's Cold,' he was relieved to know it was temporary. However, the old lady shook her head.

"The problem isn't just that. —You were young then, so you might not remember, but when we moved from the plains to here, many of our people suffered from mental distress."

Recalling the time when they had fled from humans and moved to this mountain, the old lady's face turned bitter. At that time, many people found it difficult to adapt to the new environment, becoming irritable or suffering from depression.

She had learned firsthand how much of a mental burden a change in living environment could cause.

"I've heard from that child several times, and the world he came from was surprisingly peaceful and abundant. It was like the 'Fields of Joy' where the gods reside."

As the old lady said, Shemul also thought that the world Soma described was much kinder than this one.

"Because of that, without us realizing it, he might have been carrying a great mental burden. The 'Warrior's Cold' has only added to it. We must not take it lightly."

Shemul recalled. Reflecting on Soma's recent behavior, it seemed out of character. Since returning to the hideout, Shemul had shared meals and sleep with Soma for a few days, and he had always found Soma to be a person who didn't assert himself, whether good or bad.

Despite being suddenly dropped into a completely different world, Soma had been surprisingly calm. Despite the significant changes in his environment, he hadn't complained or shown any dissatisfaction, and had obediently followed Shemul's instructions. He hadn't even made any requests or expressed any desires.

However, after deciding to fight, Soma had completely changed. He had become extremely active, as if a different person. He had started talking to Garam and Shahata, whom he had previously avoided, and made various requests.

Moreover, despite the uncertainty of when human soldiers might attack, he showed no signs of anxiety and eagerly prepared for the battle. He seemed unaware that he would be killing other humans.

Reflecting on it now, Soma had been abnormally active.

Shemul's guess was correct. Soma had fallen into a mild manic state to escape the stress of the drastic environmental changes, current situation, and future uncertainties. As a result, he felt no anxiety and was enveloped in a sense of euphoria, believing that everything he did would succeed, which made him extremely active.

However, after the successful fire attack, the tension that had kept him going snapped, and the reality of the war he had initiated overwhelmed him, pushing his mind to its limit.

"Old lady, can't we do anything?!"

Shemul pressed, but the old lady shook her head.

"There's nothing we can do. If it were a physical injury, we could see where it was and how deep it was. But with a mental wound, there's nothing we can do."

The old lady wanted to help Soma, who had saved their clan. However, since the problem was in Soma's mind, there was nothing they could do. The best they could do was give him a medicinal bath to calm him down.

"In the worst case, he might never recover. You should be prepared for that..."

◆◇◆◇◆

When Shemul left the old lady's tent, Garam was standing there, looking restless.

"What's wrong, 'Fierce Fang'?"

When Shemul called out, Garam pretended to be surprised and said awkwardly, "Oh, yeah. Is that human child okay?"

"Soma? He's taken the old lady's medicine and is sleeping now."

"Oh, I see. I heard he suddenly collapsed. I was worried."

"According to the old lady, it seems to be the 'Warrior's Cold.'"

"The 'Warrior's Cold'?!"

Shemul felt a hint of disdain in Garam's tone and bristled.

"Let me tell you, Soma is a 'foundling.' He came to a world he wasn't familiar with and had to fight other humans right away, all to save us!"

"Yeah, I know that."

Garam scratched his head, looking embarrassed as Shemul glared at him.

"Anyway, I wanted to discuss what to do with the human soldiers, but it seems impossible, doesn't it?"

Shemul understood Garam's dilemma. They had never captured so many humans before. Although the shock of the fire attack had left the soldiers demoralized, their numbers far exceeded the Zoan warriors. If they rebelled, it would be disastrous.

"In that case, I've already heard from Soma."

Shemul bit his lip, recalling the scene when Soma, who had collapsed in the village, had woken up a few hours ago. Despite being told to rest, Soma had insisted on giving several orders. However, to Shemul, it seemed that Soma was driven by a sense of urgency rather than a sense of responsibility.

After convincing him to take the medicinal bath and sleep, Shemul feared that Soma would break down completely soon.

"Soma said to let the dead soldiers be buried, and once that's done, select those who can return on their own and send them back to the fort in small groups."

"Send them back?!"

"Yes. He said that if we tell the other humans this, they won't rebel and will behave."

"I see. I understand."

Garam nodded, realizing the logic. If they tried to kill the humans, the soldiers would likely fight back, causing casualties on both sides. Keeping them captive indefinitely was also not an option. Releasing them was the better choice.

Even if the released humans returned with an army, Garam doubted they would be in any condition to fight after the shock of the fire attack.

Shemul then relayed another request from Soma.

"He also asked us to call for help from other clans."

"Help? We've already driven the humans away, so what kind of help does he need?"

Shemul hesitated. After all, even he found it hard to believe what Soma had said.

"If you want to reclaim the plains, you need to cooperate. That's what he wants us to tell them."

"Reclaim the plains?!"

Garam's voice rose in shock. Just a few days ago, they had been on the brink of annihilation, and now Soma was talking about reclaiming the plains. Garam's surprise was understandable.

"Soma says..."

"I can't believe it."

Garam found it hard to believe. However, reflecting on the past, Soma had accomplished things that Garam and the others had thought impossible, such as retaking the village and driving away the army.

"Alright. I'll send messengers immediately."

As Garam walked back to the village, Shemul sighed. Since the night Soma had made his bold declaration in front of the clan, the situation for the Zoan had changed dramatically and rapidly. Even the Zoan themselves couldn't fully grasp the situation.

Now, everything depended on Soma. If he could recover, it would be fine, but if he broke down, what would happen to the Zoan?

Shemul sighed, feeling a deep sense of uncertainty.

◆◇◆◇◆

Soma sat on the slope near the prayer site, gazing blankly at the sky. It had been three days since the fire attack.

However, Soma still couldn't sleep at night without the old lady's medicinal bath. Even when he managed to fall asleep, he would wake up in the middle of the night, plagued by nightmares.

Each time, he felt embarrassed for worrying Shemul, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for himself.

Whenever he closed his eyes, the gruesome charred bodies from that night appeared in his mind, and he was tormented by fear and regret.

Feeling that staying in the tent wouldn't help, he had come to the prayer site, but it only made him feel more despondent.

"Why did I get so carried away..."

Soma buried his face in his hands, feeling utterly dejected.

After a while, a faint whisper reached his ears.

"Murderer..."

Soma's eyes widened in shock as he looked up, but there was no one there. Only a single tree stood in the spot. Listening carefully, he could only hear the north wind and the rustling of leaves.

Thinking it was his imagination, Soma heard the voice again.

"Hot... so hot... so painful..."

His heart began to race. This time, it was definitely not his imagination. He could clearly hear someone's voice.

"Help... help me..."

As Soma searched for the source of the voice, something moved in the corner of his vision. Focusing, he saw something moving in the shadow at the base of the tree. It looked like a large black spider, moving its five legs erratically, trying to crawl out of the shadow. A black, stick-like object followed behind it.

"Ah!"

A suppressed scream escaped Soma's throat as he realized what it was. It was a charred, blackened arm. The spider-like shape was a hand, and the stick-like object was the arm. The charred skin revealed red flesh, and every time the hand and arm moved, fluid oozed out.

"Hot... so painful..."

The arm dug its fingers into the ground and dragged a body out of the shadow. The body was completely burned, with no hair left, and the skin was more charred than the arm. The eyes were white from the heat, and the mouth, stretched to its limits, was blackened by soot.

It was one of the charred bodies he had seen at the campsite.

"I don't want to die... I don't want to die..."

"The fire... the fire is burning me..."

"So hot... so hot..."

Suddenly, Soma realized that the area around him was filled with the voices of ghosts. They emerged from the shadows of rocks and trees, moaning and crawling out.

"You killed them... you burned them..."

"You did it... you did it..."

Soma tried to scream and run, but his feet wouldn't move. Ghostly hands from his own shadow had grabbed his ankles.

He flailed his arms wildly, and when they hit a ghost's arm, it crumbled and fell apart.

The sight filled Soma with more fear and guilt than relief.

"No, no, no!!"

Surrounded by the ghosts, Soma covered his face and sat on the ground, apologizing over and over.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

A soldier with a split head, bleeding from a rock, cursed him. A soldier with arrows sticking out of his body mocked him. A soldier, trampled by his comrades and reduced to a pulp, shouted at him.

Soma curled up like a fetus, covering his ears to block out the voices, crying and trembling.

Suddenly, a gap appeared in the circle of ghosts. A girl slowly walked through it.

The girl, wearing a loose, sleeveless garment tied at the waist with a cord, walked past the ghosts, who parted in fear.

When she reached Soma, she looked lovingly at the ghosts surrounding him.

"You really are a terrible child. You burned so many... you killed so many."

She smiled down at Soma, her lips red like blood, in a crescent shape.

"Oh... how wonderful. My dear Soma. My beloved child."