Shadow's Oath

Chapter 69

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Chapter 69: Poison

When Jeje took out the vial, Charlon felt as if the darkness behind his back was deepening.

It was a distinct form of darkness, far too tangible to be dismissed as an optical illusion caused by the flickering torchlight.

In fact, the darkness seemed to approach Jeje’s back, envelop it, and then reach out toward Charlon.

How could darkness have form?

It can’t.

Then it must be the torch’s shadow.

It could have been nothing more than a trick of the mind, a fear triggered by the sudden change in Jeje’s expression and the uncertainty of what the vial might be used for.

But no, the shape was too clear.

Charlon began to feel increasingly certain that there was someone else in the darkness with them.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind.

The three of them turned their heads simultaneously.

A torchlight was approaching.

Charlon flinched, but soon relaxed when she recognized the figure—it was Ram.

For some reason, however, Jeje’s expression hardened when he saw Ram.

The darkness that had enveloped Jeje’s back was gone.

It was just the flickering torchlight.

Moments earlier, Charlon had been convinced it was no illusion, but with Ram’s arrival, she began to believe otherwise.

The fact that Ram didn’t comment on it was proof enough.

If it had been something truly unusual, Ram—who seemed capable of uncovering any mystery—would surely have started with, ‘Did something strange just appear?’

Instead, his first words were,

“You haven’t made it far.”

“We were too tired to walk much further.”

Damion didn’t say, Charlon was injured, and we had to support her, opting instead to emphasize, we all were exhausted.

He chose his words with care, showing consideration in every action.

“What’s the situation outside?”

Damion asked.

“It’s not good.”

Ram approached Charlon and knelt on one knee.

“May I examine your wound?”

Charlon removed the piece of cloth Jeje had given her, revealing the injury.

Ram examined it just as Jeje had, carefully checking for other wounds along her side.

Surprisingly, Charlon didn’t feel uncomfortable with his touch as he checked her injuries.

Even with female healers or Odel, she had felt a sense of shame when they had to see her bare skin.

She hadn’t shown her father her bare skin since before she was nine.

Just moments ago, when Jeje and Damion had seen her wound, she had suppressed her embarrassment, thinking, Treating the injury is more important right now.

But with Ram, the thought didn’t even occur to her.

“Does this area hurt?”

Ram asked, pressing near the wound on her abdomen and back.

“It does, but not as much as when you press directly on the wound.”

“Then it doesn’t seem like there’s internal damage. If we can stop the bleeding, your life won’t be at risk, but if the wound becomes infected, it could be dangerous.”

“How can we prevent infection?”

“Pouring alcohol on it might help… but even if we have alcohol, I can’t guarantee I know the proper treatment. We should leave here quickly and get proper medical care.”

Ram stood and inspected the forks in the path, using the torchlight to peer into each.

“We have no way of knowing which path to take,”

Damion said.

“Nor do I. In a mountain, we could follow the flow of water, but in a cave, there’s no guarantee that the water’s flow leads to an exit.”

Ram stared intently into the darkness beyond the torchlight, as though trying to see through it.

“What about the Snake Den? Can we leave it unguarded?”

Jeje asked, still holding the vial.

“I couldn’t stay there.”

Ram explained the situation.

“I heard the sound of galloping horses outside the temple.”

“You could hear that from so far away?”

“The sound echoed along the stone walls, making it clearer. It was a large force of cavalry.”

“The Royal Knights!”

Damion said, his voice tinged with hope.

But Ram calmed him with an even tone.

“They weren’t approaching; they were moving away. Quickly. And then I heard another large cavalry force. Two separate groups, both retreating in opposite directions without colliding.”

“That means one group was fleeing, and the other was chasing, there wasn’t the sound of a battle, was there?”

“No, there wasn’t. It seems Archbishop Aikob’s knights fled, Your Highness.”

Damion sounded incredulous.

“The Archbishop wouldn’t abandon us. Even if he did, the knights couldn’t abandon me. They swore loyalty to the royal family, to the House of Bormont! They wouldn’t leave Charlon behind.”

“To what did they swear loyalty? Honor? Money? Family? Faith? None of that matters in the face of their own lives,”

Jeje said cynically.

Damion had no reply.

A sense of darkness returned.

This time, it wasn’t a shadow creeping over Jeje’s shoulder but an oppressive weight that bore down on them all.

Fearing the silence, Charlon spoke up.

“But why did you leave the Snake Den unguarded? Won’t the enemy come through it?”

“It’s not safe. No matter the situation outside, I intended to stay there. But then smoke started seeping into the cave.”

Charlon immediately imagined smoke used to drive out small animals like rabbits.

“That smoke didn’t just drift out—it moved against the airflow, pushing deeper into the cave. It was like the enchanted smoke conjured by Hak at the banquet.”

The three of them listened in silence.

“I had no choice but to retreat. I couldn’t breathe in that smoke. I didn’t go far, though. If it were ordinary smoke, it would have dispersed in the air. But this smoke had form.”

Charlon couldn’t help but dwell on the mention of its form.

“It moved like an insect crawling along the ceiling. I even tried stabbing it with Maraka’s dagger, but nothing happened.”

“Were they using the smoke to enter the cave?”

Damion asked.

“No. If they couldn’t breathe in it either, they’d have to wait until it dissipated. But they don’t know the layout of the Snake Den—how wide it is or how far we might have escaped. So they’ll hesitate to enter. We need to find a way out before they do.”

“Then we need to find a path…”

Jeje pointed to the direction where water flowed, his right hand extended, the vial still in his left.

“…What if I go this way, and Ram takes the other? We explore as far as we can, then return here to decide which path to take.”

“A good plan,”

Damion began, but Ram interrupted, pointing in the direction the water flowed.

“This way.”

“How do you know?”

Damion asked.

“This side of the wall is smooth. It bears traces of human touch.”

“That means the ancient people who lived here used it!”

Damion exclaimed excitedly.

“Then let’s rest for a little longer before moving on. Once we start, there may be no chance to rest again. The water might deepen suddenly, or we might not find flat ground to sit on again.”

Ram stepped back slightly and sat down.

Jeje, who had been shifting restlessly, and Damion, who had half-risen from his seat, also sat back down.

It seemed as though Ram’s actions silently commanded them, and the two men followed suit.

“What if the enemies come?”

Damion asked worriedly.

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Ram pointed to his ears.

“I’m listening.”

“You can hear them? Even as far as the snake pit?”

“As I said earlier, the sound travels better along the walls.”

Once again, the four sat in a circle.

Only the smell and sound of the burning torch surrounded them.

The warm, soul-stirring sensation that had embraced them just moments ago was nowhere to be found.

That moment now felt false, and the cold chill of the cave was all that remained—a stark reminder of reality.

‘Connecting souls? That was just them humoring my joke. Of course. We’re strangers, after all. Truly connecting souls is impossible.’

Charlon didn’t want to become a woman lost in romantic fantasies, blind to reality.

She never forgot that she and Damion were not lovers deeply in love but merely tied by an engagement arranged by their families for mutual benefit.

They hadn’t even had an official betrothal ceremony yet.

Even if they had, it wouldn’t matter.

His knights, who had sworn loyalty but abandoned her, were no different from that meaningless vow.

What would marriage change?

She only had to look at her father and mother’s relationship to know.

She couldn’t have a special bond with Jeje either.

He was, after all, the chieftain of a conquered people and the son of a father murdered by Ram.

Though she felt they had grown closer since yesterday, such camaraderie was bound to crumble in a crisis like this.

As for Ram, he was a slave.

It was only natural that someone of noble blood could not mix with a former slave.

The cave’s chill pressed her to accept reality.

‘Am I the one who summoned it?’

The darkness looming over Jeje’s back seemed born of the wicked thoughts festering in her own heart.

‘I’ve been like this since I was young. The darkness within me brings death to those around me and will eventually claim my life too.’

“Jeje,”

Charlon called.

The mere act of forming words felt like a waste of energy.

This was supposed to be her time to rest—a moment they had stopped for her sake, despite the urgency.

Yet, she couldn’t remain still.

She had to bring it up.

She should have said it the moment Jeje took out the vial.

Ram’s arrival had delayed her, but she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

There was no other time.

“What did you mean earlier when you talked about betrayal?”

Jeje didn’t reply immediately.

Damion didn’t even look at him.

It seemed he, too, was lost in some other thoughts.

Charlon, having spoken first, waited until Jeje finally answered.

Only then did Damion belatedly snap out of his reverie and look up in surprise.

Ram, meanwhile, seemed more focused on the space behind them than on Charlon’s words.

He appeared to be picking up sounds that her ears couldn’t hear.

If he were a dog, his ears would be perpetually turned backward.

It took him a long time to refocus on Charlon.

“Tell me, Jeje. We need to talk about it. What did you mean by betrayal?”

“I have something I must do.”

Jeje raised the small vial he had been holding so carefully since he first mentioned it.

“For this, I was captured by General Terdin. For this, I stayed by Prince Damion’s side. And for this, I ended up trapped in this cave. I have no choice but to carry it out. And when I do, I’ll cause you two immense pain. Even if I survive this place, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I’ll live with suffering worse than death.”

The moment Charlon saw the small vial, no longer than her index finger, the image of a witch’s potion sprang to mind.

Inevitably, she thought of Hag Olga.

She also recalled that Jeje had not joined them when they left the village.

It meant he had met someone and done something.

She hadn’t been curious about it until now.

She had assumed it was simply something he needed to do and that it wasn’t her concern unless he chose to share it.

But now, Charlon was burning with curiosity.

‘Who did you meet, Jeje? Olga? Maraka? Or your brother?’

The expression on Jeje’s face as he held the vial was resolute.

It wasn’t the look of someone marching into battle.

It was the face of someone heading to their death.

Charlon was terrified of what he intended to do with that vial.

“Ram.”

Jeje held out the vial to Ram.

“If I give you this, would you drink it?”

Ram asked curiously,

“What kind of potion is it?”

Jeje’s stern expression didn’t waver.

“Even if I don’t tell you what it is, even if I don’t say what will happen after you drink it, would you take it if I asked you to?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ram replied,

“I would.”

“How can you trust me?”

“Didn’t we forge a bond of souls earlier? I trust you; that’s why I agreed to it.”

“No, we didn’t. None of us were honest enough to truly forge a bond of souls….”

Jeje repeated what he had said earlier, and Charlon couldn’t bear it.

“Stop it, Jeje! Don’t get so hung up on this bond of souls nonsense. It’s just a local custom. A game. A childish pinky promise made by girls not yet twenty. It wasn’t meant to be taken so seriously!”

Charlon turned to Ram and shouted.

“Don’t drink it. Tell him you won’t take something you don’t understand. This is all my fault. I started this mess. I was the one who suggested going to Olga in the first place. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault!”

Though she tried not to cry, tears streamed down her face.

“It’s not your fault, Charlon. Not at all,”

Ram said calmly.

When she looked up again, the usually expressionless Ram was smiling faintly.

“No one has ever been as honest with me as you all have. That soul oath—whether it was a childish game or not—was real to me. I truly pledged my soul. It was real because I made it real.”

Ram held out his hand to Jeje.

“Give it to me. I will take it.”

Tears poured from Jeje’s steadfast eyes.

“This will kill you.”

He continued as if spitting blood.

“My brother gave it to me to kill you. He discovered that you’re the assassin who killed Mantum. So, he ordered me to eliminate you. I was sent here as your executioner from the start.”

“I see,”

Ram said, his voice steady, his gaze unflinching.

“Then I will drink it. Please, give it to me.”

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