Marantaceae was waiting outside the shabby tea stall, his attention fixed on something farther down the road.
Amaryllis noticed his distant stare. "What are you looking at?"
Marantaceae did not take his eyes off the distance. "I think someone is watching us."
Amaryllis followed his gaze, but saw nothing unusual. Curious, he began walking in that direction.
Marantaceae grew alarmed. "Where are you going? Wait!"
Amaryllis continued ahead, carefully searching the quiet surroundings. After a moment, he turned back.
"There is no one here."
Marantaceae hurried over to him. His gaze swept over the area one last time before he reluctantly turned away.
"Never mind... let's go."
Amaryllis regarded him for a moment before nodding. "All right."
After walking for a while, a group of people suddenly appeared from nowhere and surrounded them. Then, a young boy stepped forward.
"They attacked Ionanthus," he said.
They were no assassins. That much was clear. None of them carried themselves like trained fighters, and most looked like ordinary villagers. Still, their numbers were enough to make him wary.
Amaryllis wondered why they always ended up in trouble.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Marantaceae was already prepared to draw his sword and fight.
The villagers continued to close in. Marantaceae's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. Children stood before the adults, forming a shield between them.
Amaryllis and Marantaceae looked at each other, silently wondering what they should do.
They couldn't hurt children.
Taking advantage of their hesitation, the locals tied them with ropes and dragged them to a small house. It looked more like a place where animals lived. The air was foul, and dry grass was scattered all over the floor.
The locals stripped them of their weapons before binding them to separate wooden posts, leaving them facing each other. Then they walked out and locked the door behind them.
Amaryllis looked around. "What kind of place is this?" he muttered.
If I stay here any longer, I'll die because of this smell.
While Marantaceae stood calmly against the post, Amaryllis couldn't remain still. He desperately wanted to get out of there.
Marantaceae noticed his uneasiness but couldn't understand his strange behavior.
"Amaryllis," Marantaceae called. "Are you okay?"
"No..." Amaryllis replied weakly.
"I'm trying to untie myself," Marantaceae said.
"I'll try too."
But because of the unbearable smell, Amaryllis could barely think.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a group of people entered. An old man stepped forward.
"Untie them," he ordered.
The villagers untied them from the wooden posts, but their hands remained bound with rope. They forced them onto their knees.
Marantaceae stared directly into the old man's eyes. Meanwhile, Amaryllis struggled to remain still.
"Can we talk outside?" Amaryllis asked.
The old man carefully observed him.
"Why? A rich man like you can't tolerate a foul smell?"
Marantaceae immediately replied, "I think you've misunderstood something. We are not the people you're looking for."
The old man struck the ground with his cane.
The room fell silent.
"We can't let you go until Ionanthus comes back," the old man said. "He will decide what we should do with you."
"Why are you doing this?" Marantaceae asked. "Do you want money?"
The old man didn't answer.
He and the others left them alone again and locked the door from the outside.
Amaryllis immediately thought it was a good opportunity to escape. He quickly ran towards the door, but when he tried to open it, he realized it was locked from the outside.
He looked at Marantaceae with disappointment.
"So this is why they didn't tie us to the wooden posts."
"You don't look well," Marantaceae said, walking towards him.
Amaryllis's vision began to darken.
"Yeah..."
Suddenly, his body went limp.
Marantaceae caught him before he hit the floor.
"Amaryllis!"
"Hmm..." was the only sound Amaryllis managed to make before closing his eyes.
Marantaceae tried to help him stand. He placed a hand around Amaryllis's waist, but when he pulled his hand away, he noticed blood on his palm.
His eyes widened.
He immediately helped Amaryllis sit against one of the wooden posts and moved his clothes aside to examine the wound.
His wound hasn't healed yet. Why did he have to fight?
Marantaceae rushed towards the door and tried to open it, but it was tightly locked from the outside.
So this is why he looked unwell.
He knocked on the door repeatedly.
"Someone out there! Open the door!"
No one replied.
"If you want money, open the door! I'll give you everything I have!"
Still, no one answered.
At a loss, Marantaceae sank down beside Amaryllis.
He had to do something.
He ripped a strip of cloth from the hem of his clothes and pressed it against Amaryllis's wound to stop the bleeding.
He knew the cloth should have been clean, but at that moment, he couldn't think of anything else.
He returned to the door and knocked again.
"I'll do anything! Just open the door!"
Finally, the door opened.
A young boy stood outside.
"Grandpa is calling you," the boy said.
"I'll go with you, but first, take him to a physician." Marantaceae pointed towards Amaryllis.
"Only Grandpa can decide that," the boy replied. "If you want to take him to a physician, then you have to go to Grandpa first."
"No." Marantaceae shook his head. "I'm not leaving him here alone."
The young boy glanced at Amaryllis's wound.
"If you really want to save him," he said, pointing towards the bloodied cloth, "then I suggest you go to Grandpa. I'll watch him for you."
Marantaceae hesitated.
Amaryllis is in no condition to move. I can't fight all of them and protect him at the same time. Right now, he needs a physician more than anything.
"Okay," Marantaceae finally said.
Another man was waiting outside. He led Marantaceae to Grandpa's house.
The house was small but clean and made entirely of wood.
The man had barely reached the door when Marantaceae stepped past him and entered without permission.
Grandpa was sitting on his bed.
"You look like you're in a hurry," the old man said.
Marantaceae didn't want to waste any time.
"I'll do anything you want, but you have to bring a physician to treat my friend."
"Friend?" Grandpa laughed. "All right. But you'll have to work for us."
Marantaceae suddenly froze.
His master.
His mission.
His revenge.
Everything rushed through his mind at once.
Grandpa silently observed him.
"A moment ago, you were calling him your friend," Grandpa said. "What happened now? Don't you want to save him anymore?"
Marantaceae clenched his hands.
"Okay. I'll work for you," he said. "But before that, I have something important to do. Once it's finished, I'll come back and work for you."
Grandpa looked at him for a moment.
"Call the physician."
The man standing outside the room immediately left to bring one.
Marantaceae remained where he stood, uncertain of what his promise might cost him. Still, at that moment, he could not bring himself to regret it.
"I hope you won't regret this later," Grandpa said.
"Never," Marantaceae replied.
"Relationships are fragile." Grandpa's voice carried a hint of mockery. "I hope he feels the same way about you."
"It doesn't matter," Marantaceae said. "You don't have to tell him about this."
Grandpa smiled faintly.
"I won't need to."
The next morning, Amaryllis woke up and found himself lying on a clean bed.
He immediately sat up and looked around for Marantaceae.
Stepping outside, he found Marantaceae sitting with the old man. The two seemed to be talking as though nothing had happened.
Amaryllis stopped.
Something is wrong.
"Marantaceae," he called.
Everyone turned towards him.
"You're awake," Marantaceae said.
Amaryllis walked over, his gaze shifting to the old man. "What is going on?"
"He is the grandpa of this village," Marantaceae explained.
Noticing the confusion on Amaryllis's face, he quickly added, "Grandpa is a good man. He's allowing us to leave."
Amaryllis frowned.
Only yesterday, these people had surrounded them, taken their weapons, and locked them away. Now they were simply letting them leave?
Something did not add up.
"Okay," Amaryllis said after a moment. "Then let's get out of here."
Marantaceae glanced at Grandpa before turning back to him.
"Once you get better, we'll leave."
Amaryllis caught the brief glance.
"I am fine," he insisted. "We can go now."
Marantaceae hesitated briefly.
"Okay."
Grandpa rose to his feet. "Keep your word."
Marantaceae nodded.
Amaryllis's gaze shifted between them.
What word?
Grandpa went back into his room, and the young boy followed him.
The old man sat on his bed. He could sense the curiosity on the boy's face.
"What do you want to ask?" Grandpa said.
"Why do you want Marantaceae to work with us?" the young boy asked. "I don't think Ionanthus will like it."
"I'm doing this for him," Grandpa replied. "Marantaceae could be useful to Ionanthus in the future."
"How?" the boy asked.
"You'll understand in the future."
As they walked away from the village, Amaryllis kept glancing curiously at Marantaceae.
He couldn't believe the villagers had simply let them go.
Those thugs can't be that kind.
Amaryllis looked around to check whether anyone was following them, but there was no one.
Once they were far enough from the village, Amaryllis finally spoke.
"Marantaceae, did you give them your money to release us?"
"No."
"Then why did they let us go so easily?"
Marantaceae remained silent for a moment.
"Actually... they weren't bad people."
Amaryllis stared at him.
"They made us stay in that foul, smelly place."
"Ionanthus stole the money because he wanted to help his people," Marantaceae explained.
"His people?"
"Yes. The villagers."
Amaryllis frowned.
It was unbelievable that they had simply let them go like this.
Whether Marantaceae is hiding something or not, I'll find out eventually.
Marantaceae quickly changed the subject.
"Why didn't you tell me your wound had opened again?"