Chapter 55

It was the same for Tarhan.

A look of anguish passed over his face for a moment. However, his reason was much stronger than she expected. He stood tall and moved his pillar, which looked like it would spill at any moment, from between the bones of her hips.

Enya gasped like a child deprived of her toy and grabbed his neck in dissatisfaction.

“Ta, Tarhan…!”

She was almost impatient.

The fear that if she did not embrace Tarhan now, she would never know when she would do it with him again dominated her mind. So, she pressed her puffy chest against his, her lips moist and parted, eager to taste his kiss.

Eventually, Tarhan let out a sigh. It was as if something inside him had collapsed.

At the same time, he cupped one of her breasts and placed his lips on her parted red lips.

The droplets on their heated bodies mingled, and it was indiscernible whether they were water or sweat. He eagerly licked her neck, his soft lips tracing over her tender curves, caressing her slender abdomen, and gradually descending further.

Enya gasped, her hands clutching his solid thighs as she lifted her hips, inviting him to enter her.

“Ha-ugh…! Ah—!”

“Uuugh… haa…”

He then gripped her waist with one arm while the other hand explored her sensitive area through the dense bush, teasing the swollen cl*toris before gradually pushing the tip inside.

Enya raised one arm and tightly grasped his head, her other hand gripping the arm supporting her body. Their reunion after a long time caused her insides to contract intensely. There was even a hint of pain, but she pulled Tarhan’s arm even closer, urging him to move faster.

Tarhan held her quivering body tightly, patiently waiting for her to fully accommodate his presence without making any movements.

A thick bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and a raspy moan escaped from deep within his throat, yet he appeared hesitant to begin his movements inside her.

“Enya… you do it… Lean on my body… slowly…”

Eventually, when he reached the point where he couldn’t stand it, he blew a warm breath into Enya’s ear and pleaded.

Following his words, she positioned herself on his thighs and started to gyrate her hips, enveloping his pillar, gradually descending and ascending. With each contact of her hips against his thighs, a gentle, rhythmic sound echoed in the air.

Tarhan showered kisses along her shoulder, subtly shifting his movements along her waist. As exhaustion began to set in, he gently reclined her body against his chest and slowly lifted her up.

“Ha-uh, hu-uht…”

Enya groped his hand, floundering in terrifying ecstasy.

Tarhan quickly intertwined their fingers. Enya groaned, driving her claws into his palm, which was as hard as wood.

“Huht… Ta, Tarhan…”

He pressed his lips against Enya’s once more, causing her to tilt her head back and call out his name.

No longer were there moans or the exchange of names, only the sound of their bodies sliding against each other and the watery sound that rippled that accompanied their intertwined movements.

She felt a terrifyingly perfect sense of fulfillment and wrapped herself tightly around Tarhan inside. The upper and lower parts were completely eaten by Tarhan, and she shook her body as if in sync with the movement he gave.

Splash, splash.

As Tarhan’s breath grew ragged and the water splashing intensified, Enya’s eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the liquid streaming down her face. The tears mingled with the droplets of sweat, forming tiny pools at the edge of her chin.

It was good that Tarhan didn’t notice as she was immersed in herself.

Enya thought so, through tears several times.

She wished her body could dissolve and merge completely with his as if becoming one entity. That way, it wouldn’t matter if she followed him into the battlefield. His wounds would be her wounds, and his pain would be her pain.

If so, the hurt of one person could be shared with two people.

Two weeks after that eventful day, Tarhan’s army set out for Garganta. In the absence of their chieftain, the group of women remaining in the allied village became divided into three major factions.

The first faction was the old Aquilea faction, led by Servia, the wife of the former chieftain. A handful of loyal elders who still supported her took charge of the central village and the vicinity of the well.

The second faction was the newcomers from Perugia, who established their own territory with Avisak at the forefront.

The remaining forces congregated around Piache’s pharmacy, forming the third faction.

Enya found herself placed under the care of Piache. The residents of Nervana Forest became her devoted companions, accompanying her wherever she went as a protective escort.

“Those b*stards, are you not going to ask them how long they will follow you in such a gloomy way?”

Rigata murmured, frowning as he leaned against a tree with his arms crossed as he watched Enya following Piache and Ihita in the herb garden removing weeds.

“…Don’t mind those people. Come here Rigata, you’re here to help. You know there is a shortage of workers.”

Enya glanced up at Rigata and opened her mouth hesitantly.

Surprisingly, Rigata, who was denied participation by Tarhan’s order and was entrusted with the mission of escorting Enya, did not seem to regard it as a disgrace.

“We will still protect you, Enya. Please don’t forget that your choice to come to our side as a daughter of the forest is forever valid.”

Kiyan, who appeared in front of her one day to avoid Tarhan’s eyes, left her with these words. he other members of Nervana Forest also chose to stay in Aquilea, encircling around Enya, except for the men and some female warriors who went off to war.

Though she was aware of the presence of the Nervana Forest people, Enya feigned ignorance. At times, she longed for the human connection she once shared with them. This feeling intensified within the tense atmosphere of Aquilea, where it felt like a detonation could occur at any moment.

However, the mere thought of betraying her promise to Tarhan filled her with dread and guilt.

Thankfully, the people of Nervana Forest respected her boundaries, never encroaching upon her more than necessary nor oppressing her.

“Your hair has grown so much, Enya.”

During a short break between work, Ihita muttered as she sat in the shade of a tree with her and ate a meal. Indeed, Enya’s hair, twisted around her fingers, was now over her back.

“Isn’t it cumbersome? You haven’t had a cut since the wedding. Shall I cut it?”

Enya shook her head quickly.

“This much… it’s okay.”

While she worked, Enya habitually tied her hair with a delicate wooden string or wound it up, making sure to keep it off her shoulders. Above all, she dreaded the prospect of Tarhan’s return and the possibility of him seeing her shortened hair and being disappointed.

Although he never explicitly expressed it, he had always cherished her long locks.

Enya would observe him tenderly kiss the ends of her hair while she slept. Whether they strolled hand in hand through the meadow or rode the gerpan with the wind rushing past them, his gaze was invariably fixed on the graceful sway of her hair.

‘…Tarhan might be disappointed if it gets cut short when he returns.’

Of course, Tarhan wouldn’t show it off. He did not show much of his feelings, and he might just stop at the sight of her shortened hair.

As she thought of him, her mouth naturally opened, and she stared into space.

Suddenly, she missed him dearly. Enya hurriedly turned her head, trying not to grab hold of her throbbing heart.

“The warehouse is full of poppuri tree fruit, so can we stop harvesting now?”

“Ung. Old Lady Piache said that we should leave the remaining fruits in the field so that wild beasts do not steal other fruits.”

Enya applied gentle pressure with her fingertips onto the dark red berries nestled in her palm, causing them to release a viscous black sap that coated her hands. With a swift motion, she brought her tongue to her palm, savoring the taste of the sweet fruit. It still seemed unbelievable to her that these seemingly innocent berries, when dried and pulverized into a fine powder, possessed potent hallucinogenic properties, serving as a powerful anesthetic.

They hastily departed from their current location and made their way back to Piache’s pharmacy, where they resumed their work diligently following the given instructions.

Within the confines of the pharmacy, three immense cauldrons perpetually simmered, emitting pungent fumes and a distinct aroma of medicinal herbs that pierced the nostrils. Enya, having grown accustomed to the environment, perspired profusely as she assisted Ihita in packaging the medicine and stacking it onto the waiting cart.

“Piache…!”

Then, she heard someone urgently calling Old Lady Piache’s name from outside the pharmacy.

The women who were working in the pharmacy looked at Piache in surprise, who was guarding the kiln. Piache got up with a muttering voice and went out, wiping her hands on the cloth wrapped around her like an apron.

Did it look like there were injured people? If someone was urgently looking for Piache within the tribe, that was the only reason.

Unsurprisingly, a woman from Servia’s side was contemplating and spoke to Piache.

“Please come to our side quickly. One child has had a fever all night and is not getting better. At first, we thought it was a mild fever, so we let the child rest…”

Enya witnessed the sight of Piache’s face turning white after hearing what was said again.

“Small boils popped up all over the body, and things like spots started to spread.”

She hurriedly turned to Ihita.

Even just hearing it was a bad sign. Piache’s actions grew increasingly frantic as she issued rapid orders.

The two furnaces were quickly extinguished, and the women responsible for the remaining tasks worked diligently to keep up. Ihita and Enya, understanding the urgency, prepared for Piache’s departure by gathering the essential examination tools and medicines she typically carried.

Glancing back at Enya and Ihita, Piache sat astride a man’s back, who had been brought by one of Servia’s women.

“What are you doing?! You guys can’t catch up quickly either!”

Unlike Ihita, who rushed at her words, Enya couldn’t budge from her seat and stayed wide-eyed. At the same time, Servia’s messenger also became contemplative and shouted at Piache.

“Wa, wait…! Will you bring that woman, too? But, but—”

Enya felt the woman’s voice fading anxiously, and she unconsciously stepped her left foot back in an old habit. She broke out in a cold sweat as she couldn’t understand Piache either.

Aguilea’s bloodline, who lived in Servia’s area, still feared her. What would she do going to a place like that?

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At the same time, Old Lady Piache, who was sitting on the man’s back, screamed as if she couldn’t get enough of it.

“We should leave soon! We can’t waste a minute. It could be a sign of a plague! That child is my assistant. Her hands are fast and tight-lipped. If you’re thinking of saying that the leg is a sign of plague, drop me off immediately. I don’t even want to take care of that!”

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