Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 481: There Is No 'Then'
Reality unfolded exactly as Talulah had anticipated.
After leaving the village, the group of Infected led by Brull could only find a relatively flat stretch of open ground and hastily set up a crude camp. Compared to the village—where they had at least had roofs over their heads—their current situation was nothing short of miserable.
If they had started out camping here from the beginning, perhaps there wouldn't have been much to complain about. But after experiencing even a brief taste of relative comfort, only to be driven out so abruptly… resentment was inevitable.
Brull's expression was especially grim.
In his eyes, this was never the fault of the Infected. It was the cowardice and fear of the villagers that had led to this outcome. True, the villagers had no obligation to accept them, but was it really necessary to be so cold, so heartless, to the point of humiliating them like this?
Seeing their leader's darkened face, several of Brull's trusted followers exchanged glances, as if they had come to the same conclusion. After a brief moment, they stepped forward together.
"Boss," one of them said, "we'll go gather some supplies nearby. While we're at it, we'll check on how that village is doing… and maybe have a little talk with them. That should be fine, right?"
The word talk was enunciated with deliberate emphasis.
There was nothing friendly about the looks on their faces. And in a desolate place like this, what supplies could there possibly be? Their intentions were obvious.
Brull had already guessed what they planned the moment they approached. He didn't know whether Infected as a whole were particularly vengeful, but his subordinates certainly were not the type to swallow such humiliation quietly.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have abandoned the protection of the guerrilla fighters to follow him in the first place.
One of the reasons they distrusted the Guerrillas was precisely because those people insisted that ordinary citizens were no different from them—that retaliation was forbidden, that revenge was wrong.
But why?
Why were ordinary people allowed to oppress and discriminate against the Infected freely, while the Infected were expected to endure it all, to forgive, to swallow their rage?
This was exactly why Brull believed Reunion had to part ways with the Guerrillas. Infected only needed their own kind. As for ordinary people… one day, he would make them experience everything the Infected were forced to endure now.
And Reunion, in its current form, was moving in the opposite direction of that ideal.
So even if it meant bearing the name of traitor, he had chosen to leave.
Now, standing here, he felt no urge to stop his followers from seeking revenge. They were just ordinary villagers, after all, and it was they who had gone back on their word and driven them out first.
More importantly, based on what that child had said earlier, the villagers might have a way to contact the Ursus military. Even for safety's sake alone, Brull could not allow that to happen.
For his own sake—and for the sake of those who followed him—he could only assume the worst of the villagers.
In the end, Brull simply nodded.
He even reminded them, almost casually, to bring all their weapons with them—for safety.
The moment they received his approval, and heard that final "reminder," the meaning behind it was perfectly clear to them.
The traces of fear and hesitation in their eyes faded away, replaced by a strange, indescribable excitement—something feral, something bloodthirsty.
It was as if the beasts caged deep within their hearts had finally been set free.
Even Talulah, hidden nearby under invisibility, could feel it clearly.
These Infected no longer felt familiar to her.
They looked… possessed, as though something monstrous had taken hold of them.
As for what those people were really heading out to do, Talulah was no naïve child who could honestly believe they were merely going to gather supplies or scout for information.
These Infected were elite fighters, veterans capable of skillfully wielding Originium Arts, some of whom had even fought against Infected patrol squads before. If they were allowed to enter that village, it would be no different from letting wolves loose in a pen of sheep.
Because of that, the conflicted look on Talulah's face deepened.
She had never imagined things would deteriorate this quickly. Just moments ago, everything had seemed so harmonious. And yet, with nothing more than the exposure of their identity—and a single sentence from a child—the situation had spiraled into what it was now.
From her position as an observer, the matter of right and wrong was painfully clear. Even if the villagers had handled things poorly, the true root of the problem lay in the Infected concealing who they were.
And what these few were about to do next would drag the entire group into a bottomless abyss of wrongdoing.
Just as Talulah was thinking about how she might stop them, a conversation between the departing Infected and the others caused the blood to drain from her face.
"What do you think we're going out for?" one of them sneered. "Of course we're going to teach those shameless villagers a lesson. Best case? Make them understand that going against the Infected never ends well. And that kid who was going to tip off the authorities—I'll tear his mouth apart myself."
They made no effort whatsoever to hide their intentions from the other, uninformed Infected. Brull's trusted followers openly declared their plans for revenge, even voicing disturbingly brutal threats.
Yet after hearing this, the rest of the Infected showed no sign that anything was wrong.
Some even looked at them with admiration, as though gazing upon heroes.
Others went even further, picking up their own weapons and joining the group outright. They knew full well that what awaited was a bloody massacre, yet fueled by resentment and rage, they felt no sense of wrongdoing at all.
Who could have imagined that, just earlier that same day, these people were nothing more than the oppressed?
And now, when facing villagers far weaker than themselves, their stance had twisted into something unrecognizable.
If those first few Infected could still be dismissed as having always harbored such violent tendencies, then the moment the others—who had previously been uninvolved—echoed those same sentiments…
That was the true blow to Talulah.
More than once, she had believed that humanity was fundamentally good. That even when people committed evil, it was often out of desperation, shaped by circumstance and pressure. Given a choice, who wouldn't want to be a good person?
That belief was precisely why she had always thought Infected and ordinary people were no different at their core. The suffering they endured, the disasters tied to Oripathy—none of it had ever been their choice.
Only now did Talulah truly realize that—whether ordinary people or the Infected—human nature was far more complex than she had ever imagined. All it took was a tiny spark, and what followed could plunge straight into a far more terrifying abyss.
She had once believed, with absolute conviction, that her efforts could make a difference. But when she finally came face to face with reality, she understood that some things could never be changed through thought or ideals alone.
Especially when it came to the selfish side of human nature.
Numbly, she followed behind the growing group of Infected—now a revenge squad of more than a dozen people. Her gaze was unfocused, her steps heavy. She knew she should stop them. Yet the last lingering trace of naïveté in her heart urged her to keep watching this farce to the very end.
And then, a voice that should have been erased by her boyfriend long ago echoed in her ears once more, like a nightmare crawling back to life. That familiar hoarse, gloomy tone was something Talulah would never forget.
"I told you… in the end, you would understand me. And then—"
"—There is no 'then.'"
Before the black threads seeping up from the ground could wrap around the stunned girl, before that sinister voice could finish its sentence, it was abruptly cut off by another.
The black strands were seized roughly, crushed in a grip, and burst apart in a clenched hand.
As that younger voice rang out, the confusion and shock on Talulah's face vanished in an instant—replaced by an indescribable sense of safety.
Casually sweeping away the black threads that tried to latch onto her again, Steven grabbed Talulah by the shoulders and looked her over from head to toe. Only after confirming there were no lingering signs of possession did he finally meet her eyes—eyes that had witnessed everything alongside him.
"I told you already," he said calmly. "The truth is way more brutal than you imagined."
He paused.
"Do you still want to keep watching?"
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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