Incompatible Interspecies Wives

The next day, Baran woke up in his bed.

He knew there was much to be done today, but... he didn’t feel like moving.

The weight of loss kept dragging him down.

Seven years had passed since he and Berg had stood together on the brink of life and death, protecting one another.

It was hard to believe that someone so significant in his life was gone.

“…Baran, are you okay?”

His lover, Laura, asked him as she noticed his sigh and lack of movement.

Baran tried to act strong, masking his emotions.

“I’m fine.”

Still, he felt a deep sense of gratitude toward Laura, who cared for him so much.

For her sake, if nothing else, he needed to move forward.

As the captain of this Stockpin, Baran had a duty to protect it.

Though the Red Flame group had disbanded, not all its members had come to terms with it.

They still looked up to Baran, hoping for his next steps.

Of course, the de facto ruler of this land was now Lady Reiker.

But Baran knew she couldn’t act, paralyzed by her own grief.

Even Gale had repeatedly suggested that Baran take the lead for now.

Even the responsibility for carving Adam’s epitaph had fallen to him.

Baran ran his hand through his hair as he got out of bed.

He hastily dressed, preparing to face the day.

Laura, still sitting on the bed with the blanket wrapped around her, spoke softly.

“…Stay strong today, Baran.”

“…”

Baran turned to look at Laura.

When he thought about it… even their wedding had been something Berg was supposed to officiate. That, too, was now an impossibility.

Plague, farming struggles, bandit attacks, Krund…

The endless piling up of duties had forced them to delay so much.

If only he had managed to move the schedule forward, could they have received Berg’s blessing?

Not just as a close friend but as a hero of the human race, Berg’s blessing would have been invaluable.

Baran shook his head, casting off his regrets.

“Thank you.”

He expressed his gratitude to Laura.

As he twisted the doorknob to step outside, Baran paused.

“…”

“…Baran?”

Turning back to Laura, he spoke.

“When things settle down… should we get married?”

In a situation where nothing was prepared, Baran posed the question.

Throughout his time in the Red Flames, many women had approached him, attracted only by what he possessed.

Laura might be no different, but Baran found himself thinking otherwise.

There was something about her—her selflessness, her deep consideration for others—that stood out.

Baran’s proposal, however, was clumsy at best.

No prepared ring, no grand gesture—just a messy moment shared after waking up.

The women he had met before would have likely scoffed at such a lackluster proposal.

He was curious to see how Laura would react.

“…One thing to keep in mind… life with me won’t be luxurious. The Red Flames has disbanded.”

Baran deliberately played down his circumstances, almost exaggerating.

Even though the group had formally disbanded, its hierarchy still lingered, and Baran held significant influence.

But he wanted to see Laura’s reaction to his words.

He knew it wasn’t right to test her, yet he couldn’t help himself.

Laura fell silent for a moment.

Then, with a natural smile, she replied.

“…Then I’ll take care of us.”

“…”

Baran chuckled softly, nodding at her unexpected answer.

****

Visitors began arriving at Stockpin.

Humans, various non-human races, and numerous nobles.

Rumors of Berg Reiker’s death after defeating Krund spread far and wide.

The Red Flames’ valor in defending the territory only heightened its reputation.

Stories of their bravery circulated, particularly among the non-human refugees residing in Stockpin.

“You should’ve seen them draw their swords—so courageous!”

“Do you know how magnificently Berg Reiker stepped up? I never imagined humans could show such bravery…”

“Thanks to them, we who fled here survived. And Stockpin treated us with incredible hospitality. In such dire circumstances, I never thought they’d care for us like this.” ℞À₦𝐎₿ËS

“They say Berg Reiker insisted that no matter what, the children should be fed. Maybe it’s because he came from the slums… he understood the struggles of the common folk.”

“Not just a hero of the human race… but an exemplary individual.”

Such tales lightened Baran’s heavy heart, if only slightly.

As He Left, Baran felt the subtle ripple of Berg’s dreams becoming reality—the rise in the human race’s reputation.

How these stories would unfold remained to be seen, but it was undoubtedly a good start.

Baran now found himself facing countless lords of various noble houses.

In place of Sien, who had not left her room, Baran stood alongside Gale to greet them.

“Lord Gale, it’s been a while.”

“Lord Tons, it has indeed been a while.”

“…And the one beside you?”

“This is Baran. He was Berg Reiker’s right-hand man. Now… he’s the captain of the Red Flames group,” Gale introduced, though the group had disbanded. Explaining it this way seemed more convenient.

Baran bowed his head.

“…It’s an honor to meet you.”

The noble replied, “Thank you for your service in the battle.”

“…”

Baran noticed how much had changed.

It was the first time nobles had spoken to him with such respect.

It gave him an idea of just how highly Berg was regarded.

Berg’s popularity among the masses must have played a part.

His love story with Sien, titled “Loneliness and Purity,” was sung as a ballad far and wide.

And Berg’s rise from the slums to becoming a noble endeared him to the people.

Combined with his status as the human race’s hero and the unyielding courage he displayed even in death, Berg might very well be held in as high regard as a legendary warrior.

Even the noble before him seemed to harbor a deep respect for Berg, evident in the care he extended to Baran.

“Have you erected Lord Reiker’s tombstone?” the lord of the Tons family asked cautiously.

Baran nodded bitterly and gestured toward the rear.

“Yes, but I must ask that you refrain from approaching it. Too many people have gathered, and it would be disrespectful to the comrades already resting beneath the soil.”

“…I understand.”

Despite Baran’s potentially curt refusal, the noble simply nodded.

The lord gestured to his attendants, and soon, several wagons were brought forward.

“…What is this?”

“A gift from our family. Please deliver it to Lady Reiker with our regards. For the human race’s heroes, this much is the least we can do.”

Before Baran could even refuse out of courtesy, the noble turned his horse, bowed politely, and departed.

He was not the only noble to leave such gifts.

Whether they sought to improve their reputation, win favor with human followers of Berg, or genuinely respected Berg, their intentions remained unclear.

Regardless, the change was overwhelming.

“Berg!”

As Baran continued to meet the visitors arriving at Stockpin, a commotion arose at the village entrance, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Berg, you idiot!”

A man stood at the entrance, shouting profanities at Berg.

The Red Flames members moved to subdue the man, who was causing a ruckus.

However, he struggled violently, shouting Berg’s name over and over.

“How could you leave like that? Come out here, you fool!”

Baran made his way toward the scene, pushing past the gathering villagers.

The man’s insults toward Berg stoked a flame of anger in Baran, who was still mourning his friend.

“Urgh!”

Thud!

By the time Baran reached the man, he had already been pinned to the ground, unable to move.

One of the members held the man’s head firmly against the dirt.

“…”

However, as Baran saw the man’s face, he froze.

He quickly recognized who it was.

“…You’re…”

“Let me go! Damn it…!” the man spat.

His name… it must have been Flint.

A friend of Berg from the slums. Baran had heard that Flint was active in a merchant guild.

He even recalled seeing Berg and Flint talking in Dems Village, by the ocean.

“…Let him go!”

As soon as Baran identified Flint, he issued the order.

The hands pinning Flint to the ground immediately released him.

Flint sat up, brushing off the dirt, and his eyes widened when he spotted Baran.

They both remembered each other’s faces.

“…Tell me it’s not true,” Flint pleaded, breaking the silence.

Tears began streaming down his face, previously masked by anger.

It was the sorrow of a man mourning his lifelong friend.

“Please, tell me it’s not true.”

“…”

Baran found this moment far more challenging than dealing with any noble.

Clenching his jaw, Baran exhaled deeply before answering.

“…I’m sorry.”

“…Damn it…”

Flint collapsed to the ground, suppressing his voice as tears spilled uncontrollably.

It was as if he had lost a brother.

Watching him, Baran raised his gaze to the sky.

He suppressed the tears threatening to spill.

“…Flint?”

At that moment, someone called out his name.

Everyone turned their attention toward the voice.

As the crowd around her parted, she stepped forward.

It was Ner Blackwood.

“…Ner-nim…”

Flint wiped away his tears and knelt before her.

The two were not strangers.

“…Ner-nim, Berg… he…”

“…”

Ner did not answer his question.

Though Flint had steadied himself moments before, her silence caused him to waver again.

After a pause, Ner spoke.

“…Flint, I have a request for you.”

“…A request?”

Her sudden request took Flint by surprise.

It seemed Ner knew of his connection to a merchant guild, and she might be asking for help with something.

Whatever it was, Baran felt it was related to Berg.

Baran decided it was better for him not to listen.

Ner continued, “Could you spare me some time?”

****

Late at night.

I was hiding cautiously in a quiet corner of the forest within Stockpin’s territory.

“…”

It was spring, thankfully.

Had it been winter, I wouldn’t have been able to endure the chill of the night.

Sien, Arwin, and I were trying to figure out a plan.

Sien, having just recovered from the plague, and Ner, still regaining her health, couldn’t be pushed too hard. We needed a way to travel long distances safely.

Stealing a horse and making a quick escape wasn’t an option.

Perhaps letting Baran or Gale know I was alive and seeking their help could be a choice.

But even that seemed difficult.

The crowds gathering in Stockpin to mourn me had made Gale and Baran incredibly busy.

If they disappeared for any length of time, it would draw attention.

And during such moments, my survival could be exposed.

…I wasn’t willing to take that risk.

The fact that the human race’s hero, Berg Reiker, was alive would not be received well.

His story felt complete with his death.

I had no desire to tarnish that narrative.

It seemed to align with Adam Hyung’s long-held dream—to uplift the human race’s reputation.

This was a golden opportunity for humans to gain respect.

So, for now, I entrusted everything to Sien, Ner, and Arwin.

There wasn’t much I could do while in hiding.

“…Ha.”

Despite sitting here alone under the night sky, I felt a deep peace that I hadn’t in a long time.

It was safe to say I had no immediate problems.

All the worries that had weighed on me seemed distant now.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt this free.

Even the senses I had dulled during chaotic times felt alive again.

The moon seemed so beautiful.

I had forgotten how fragrant the scent of grass was.

The chirping of crickets sounded like music to my ears.

The cool night air felt incredibly refreshing.

I could sit like this for hours.

Meanwhile, Ner and Arwin were likely informing their families about their need to leave.

They would probably share the news of my survival with their most trusted family members and request not to be pursued.

Only when those matters were resolved could we leave this place.

Rustle…

“...?”

Then, in the stillness of the night, I heard the sound of footsteps rustling through the underbrush.

At first, I thought it might be an animal.

But I quickly realized it was the sound of a person—strong, deliberate footsteps.

A man.

I picked up the sword I had rested on my knees, just in case.

While the nobles flooding into Stockpin had likely scared off most bandits, nothing was ever certain.

It was unusual for anyone to venture into the forest at this hour.

“…Why would Ner-nim send me… here…”

A voice, low and grumbling, drifted through the darkness.

At that moment, a faint whisper reached my ears.

“…What the hell does she want me to find at this hour…”

“…?”

The familiarity of that voice sent chills down my spine.

-Swoosh!

Unable to contain the surge of emotion, I stepped out of the shadows and revealed myself to the man.

“Ahhh!”

Startled, the man fell backward.

“Wh-who are you!”

His clumsy reaction, mixed with an attempt at bravery, betrayed habits he had picked up in the slums.

“Flint!”

I called his name, unable to suppress my emotions.

“…”

Flint’s expression froze as his eyes slowly adjusted to the sight of me.

He blinked repeatedly, as if questioning the reality of what he was seeing.

“…B-Berg…?”

I approached Flint, who was still on the ground, and grabbed his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?”

“…”

His bewildered eyes darted around, unable to focus.

But eventually, those wandering eyes filled with tears.

“You…! You…”

“Flint—”

“—If you’re alive, you should’ve told me!”

Flint erupted in anger, pulling me into a tight embrace.

And at the same time, tears streamed down his face.

“…”

As I stood there, feeling the warmth of his embrace, I was overcome with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.

Knowing that so many of my friends would react this way if they found out I was alive only deepened my guilt.

“When I heard you were dead, do you know how shocked I was?!”

“…I’m sorry.”

“You…! You nearly gave me a heart attack, you idiot!”

“…”

Despite the circumstances, the fact that someone could mourn my death so deeply filled me with an unexpected sense of comfort.

Flint released me and stared at my face, scrutinizing me again.

He suddenly chuckled, shaking his head.

“…You’re definitely alive. There must’ve been some kind of misunderstanding!”

“I’m alive, Flint.”

“Then come back! Why on earth are you…”

“…”

My silence made Flint blink in confusion.

Then, as if realizing something, he fell silent as well.

“…”

Even if he didn’t know all the details, Flint seemed to piece together the choice I had made—and perhaps even why I had faked my death.

Old friends don’t need every word spelled out. They understand.

“…Does the life of a noble not suit you?”

Flint asked softly.

I chuckled and nodded.

“It doesn’t suit me at all.”

Flint let out a deep sigh, a mixture of lingering shock and relief as he calmed his pounding heart.

“…Well, you were never one to enjoy being under pressure.”

“…”

For a moment, I wondered if any of our other friends had come to the village.

It wasn’t an impossible idea.

“Flint, did Max come to the village too?”

Max was another friend I hadn’t seen since we parted ways in the slums.

Flint shook his head.

“I haven’t seen him. If he’s alive, he’ll find his way here eventually. If he’s…”

“…”

Flint trailed off, swallowing his words.

“…If Max shows up, I’ll let you know.”

“…Alright.”

I took a moment to look Flint over.

“So, how did you figure out I was here?”

“I didn’t know. Ner-nim just sent me here to fetch some strange bowl…”

“…A bowl?”

I chuckled at Ner’s excuse for sending Flint my way.

She had clearly lied to get him here.

Flint, realizing he’d been tricked, let out a small laugh himself.

“…Well, I found something better than a bowl, I suppose.”

“…”

I quickly grasped why Ner had sent Flint here.

She must’ve seen the potential he brought to our situation.

With Flint’s connections to the merchant guild, he could likely arrange for plenty of carriages—exactly what we needed.

The decision didn’t take long.

“Hey, Flint.”

He looked up at me.

“…What?”

I gave him a grin.

“…Help me out.”

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

[TL: Join Patreon to support the translation and to read up to 5 chapters ahead of the release: /readingpia

Join Our Discord for regular updates and have fun with other community members: invite/SqWtJpPtm9 ]

---

Support /novel/193562?sid=main5

Join Discord

invite/SqWtJpPtm9