The Sword Of Sunshine [Eng Ver]

Chapter 6

With the help of a small dose of morphine, I was able to sleep soundly last night. As the wind grew bitterly cold, somewhere the snowflakes had begun to fall, heavy and dense, like tears shed by the sky.

And yet, we still have to live in these temporary shelters. In the end, the children of this wintry land are accustomed to the icy chill of the gods here. Snow, ice, and cold are no longer a concern.

Last night, the nightmare didn't come. But that dream is like a haunting scar on my mind, plaguing me every waking moment, as if I had been through hell.

The main tower's library, though not spacious, might still be useful.

The heavy wooden door creaked as I gently pushed it. Inside, thousands of old books were piled up, covered in dust, creating a space that was both familiar and strange. Through the veil of frosted glass, sunlight danced on the aged pages, illuminating them with a soft, ethereal glow. Perhaps, within these ancient books, I might find the answers to the questions I seek.

Searching through every old bookshelf,  I tried to find any trace of the creature with the devilish eyes. There is a wealth of information about wolves, covering everything from their fur to their behavior. Unfortunately, there are no records of such a specific individual.

Since ancient times, the people of the empire have held the belief that red, being the color of blood and fire, was a sign of misfortune. They were terrified of those with red eyes, believing them to be harbingers of doom and death.

Time flowed like a river, yet the pages of the past remained stagnant, turned over and over without revealing any new truths. As soon as the sun began to set behind the mountains, painting the sky in hues of twilight, and the veil of night began to descend. It was also the time I had to return.

''Is anyone there?''

Out of the blue, a young man's deep, soothing voice echoed from beyond the hut. With a gentle hand, he parted the way, his curious eyes glancing into the interior. A tall figure with piercing golden eyes and wild brown hair. His clothes were stained red with a coppery scent. Eric struggled to keep his balance, each step a painful ordeal as the open wound on his arm continued to bleed.

Exhausted, he staggered into the tent and collapsed heavily into the creaking wooden chair.

"...What happened to you?"

In a daze, I brought my hand to my lips, attempting to mask my weariness. The bright red blood was splattered across the ground, a familiar sight that no longer filled me with fear. Hesitantly, I squinted up at his looming figure.

"...Did you just come back from the battlefield? Just yesterday you were in good health...''

"I am a special forces soldier, life and death are part of the job...This time the plan went awry, but luckily I'm still alive."

Special forces units are elite and clandestine groups, trained rigorously to carry out dangerous and complex missions that require a high level of skill. Known by many names, they are the shadowy figures that haunt the night.

The cotton swab soaked in antiseptic touched his flesh. A guttural moan escaped his lips as he winced, his eyes squeezed shut in agony, his brow furrowed into a mask of pain.

''You look like you've had a long night without sleep.''

''Not really. I had a pretty good sleep last night...thanks to the morphine. Do I still look that bad?''

A sharp pain shot through him as the needle punctured his wound. The thread pulled taut, tearing through his flesh, leaving long, painful red marks.

"It's just...when you first joined the army, you didn't look this bad. Now you look like you're on death's door. But I guess this is just how things are now"