Deep down, Aster knew that all the warm, sincere words his mother had spoken were her last.
No matter how strong his desire—how desperately he wished to save her—he was powerless before nature itself.
The river was far faster and colder than it looked.
Its raging current swept away everything in its path—Aster included.
Watching his mother face death before his eyes, the boy struggled with all his strength to reach her.
But the river, as if deliberately trying to separate them, would not allow it.
Even though it was the final month of spring, the cold began to take its toll. The water dragged the boy deeper into its grasp, pulling him into its domain.
Soon, Aster's lungs could no longer draw in enough air.
Every second became precious. His vision began to darken, and his body grew numb from the cold.
'Air… I need air!'
Flailing beneath the surface, he did everything he could to reach the top.
Yet fate did not take the boy's breath just yet.
The moment Aster's head broke the surface, he greedily filled his lungs, gulping the air that had been returned to him.
After catching his breath, he turned his head toward the riverbank—to the place where his mother had fallen.
There lay Aurora, like a wounded deer struck by a hunter's spear.
The demon dogs that had chased them to the river were already tearing into her body…
They bit, pulled, and dragged her as if she were nothing more than a doll.
Unable to endure the pain, Aurora screamed with everything she had.
Despite the roar of the rushing river, the desperate screams still reached Aster's ears.
Watching the person who had loved him, raised him, and cherished him suffer before his eyes unleashed a storm of emotions within him.
Hatred.
Anguish.
Grief.
They spilled from his eyes as tears.
Even through the pain tearing her body apart, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
"Live… survive… no matter what, live—!"
Before she could finish, the pain overtook her.
But she completed her words in her heart.
'Never turn back!'
Hearing his mother's final wish, Aster rushed toward the person he loved with everything he had left.
The tears streaming from his eyes mixed with the river's water, and before long, he felt nothing but the icy cold surrounding him.
By then, the Baskerville demon had already reached Aurora.
He glanced once at her fallen body, then looked toward the direction of the river.
'You won't escape far.'
With sharp eyes and a terrifying smile, he stared at Aster.
Carried by the current, Aster drifted downstream for some time.
When the river widened and the flow slowed, he somehow managed to crawl out onto the bank.
Soaked to the bone and utterly exhausted, he dragged himself onto the shore.
Only then did he finally feel the warmth of his tears—something he hadn't felt in the freezing water.
He collapsed forward and cried out with all his strength.
Aster lay there for a long time. He screamed and wept until he tasted blood in his throat, until no more tears would fall.
When he no longer had the strength to cry, the sun had already risen high into the sky.
Golden rays of the new day filtered through the leaves and fell upon Aster's eyes.
That meant one thing.
The demon was gone.
It was safe to return.
However—
There was a problem.
Aster lifted his head and tried to stand, but his legs failed him, and he collapsed to his knees.
Why?
Was it because he had nearly drowned?
Because he had cried too much?
Partly.
The real reason was a terrifying surge of something he couldn't understand, spilling out from within him.
Staring at his legs, Aster screamed in despair.
"Get up! Move!"
He refused to let this stop him.
Forcing himself forward, he began to walk as best he could.
Step by step, he followed the river upstream, heading back toward his village.
In his depressed, weakened state, he walked for some time.
After what felt like an endless hour and a half, the village finally came into view.
As Aster drew closer, he rushed first to the place where his mother had pushed him.
Even knowing the truth, he couldn't bring himself to accept it.
'They're alive… they have to be alive!'
When he arrived, the ground was completely soaked in blood—so much of it that a small stream had formed, flowing toward the river.
'Where are they?! They should be here!'
He searched frantically.
Accepting his mother's death felt like losing a part of himself.
But—
Life proved far more bitter and cruel than he had imagined.
When he thought he had found her, all he discovered was his mother's right arm.
He recognized it by the bracelet still wrapped around her wrist.
Aster's face drained of color. It was as if he had lost the ability to speak—no, even to think.
He approached the last thing his mother had left behind and sat there for a long time.
Only after regaining some clarity did he move again.
'They need to be buried.'
He removed his clothes and wrapped the arm in them.
Pressing the bundle tightly to his chest, he held back his uneven breathing. His eyes trembled as he barely restrained his tears.
Then he stood and headed toward the village.
Naked, soaked, and pitiful, Aster walked through the center of the village.
He was searching for someone—someone who could help him bury his mother.
'Hans will help me.'
He walked through the half-burned village, paying attention to nothing but finding Hans.
But countless eyes were fixed on him.
Everyone in the street stared at Aster—at his appearance, at what he was carrying.
The blood-soaked clothes in his arms caused expressions to twist and change.
It was as if a demon were walking through the street.
People looked at him with hatred, fear, and unease.
At that moment, Hans—despite having lost one arm—was still trying to help the villagers.
He stood in the middle of the street. When he turned his head, he spotted Aster.
The instant he saw him, Hans ran over.
"Aster! Are you alright?! Are you hurt?! Why are you like this? Where is your mother?!"
Grabbing Aster's shoulder with his remaining hand, Hans bombarded him with questions.
Seeing that the boy did not answer, countless thoughts ran through Hans' mind.
Aster made no attempt to speak. His unchanged, vacant expression only deepened Hans' fear.
Finding the simplest way to explain, Aster loosened the bundle in his arms and showed it to him.
At first, Hans didn't understand.
But the moment he saw what lay inside, his face turned deathly pale.
He understood.
It showed clearly on his face.
"Don't be afraid. I—"
He was cut off mid-sentence.
Suddenly, something hard struck the side of Aster's forehead, knocking him to the ground.
Blood from the wound flowed quickly, reaching his eye.
He turned his gaze toward what had been thrown.
It was a stone.
But—
Where had it come from?