How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 102: Hunger and War (3)

"Good heavens, Lo-Lord! Lord! Somehow, we must do something...!"

"The Great Chief went in! The Great Chief went in there!"

"Bring water buckets! What? Just bring anything that can extinguish fire, whether water or sand!"

Achak's mind goes blank. This wasn't the plan. He never calculated this from the beginning.

Isn't it absurd? That someone as important as the Great Chief would personally rush in to save such a person...

Achak's hand gripping the knife at his waist trembles. Without realizing it, he had walked out from the alley and was looking at the burning house.

As he turned his head with a dazed look, people were slowly approaching him.

Yes. Because if you're wandering around an arson scene carrying a knife, anyone would find it suspicious.

He was so shocked that he forgot to hide.

"...Are you the culprit?"

"..."

"Baron Raleigh? What should we do?"

"For now... confiscate his weapons first, take him away and detain him somewhere. Good heavens, what is this..."

"No, no."

"...What?"

"I, I didn't know this would happen... I didn't know..."

"..."

Achak trembled. He still couldn't believe the scene he had just witnessed.

Although he hadn't been here long, he knew.

It's the Great Chief's leadership that guides and maintains this place. Without him, this community...?

What about the surviving members of his tribe?

The scene that would unfold afterward vividly appeared in his mind.

Achak wept at the tragedy before his eyes, his body trembling even as his arms were restrained.

"This, this isn't, this isn't what I... This, this... what I wanted..."

"..."

"No, no, I, I didn't know, the Gr-Great Chief would die like this..."

"...What? Did he die?"

"Huh?"

At Raleigh's question, Achak makes a stupid sound.

It was then.

Crack.

Turning his head, someone walks out from the burning, collapsing hut.

Even though flames still flicker like the tongue of hell toward the sky.

Even though it emits heat that seems like no one could survive inside.

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From within, someone walks out proudly.

His face is contorted, his clothes have become worthless scraps that barely cover his body, and burns spiral around his body.

And, Achak sees.

Those burns gradually subsiding like ripples on water.

The marks on his body that were distorted, dented, and torn are disappearing one by one. The wounds heal instantly. No, beyond healing.

Not even a scar remains. As if time had been rewound.

Because...

"Uh... uhh... ughhh..."

...Achak's head convulses as it receives incomprehensible information. It was difficult to distinguish whether this was a hallucination created by an extreme state of excitement or something he was actually seeing.

A man walking out of the flames.

The ends of his hair flare up in the flames and then subside again.

The heat of the fire still emanates from his entire body, but he stands before everyone literally without a single hair harmed.

'He' releases the man wrapped in the water-soaked cloth.

The man with snake tattoos on both shoulders, the great chief of the Catawba tribe.

The man with snake tattoos looks at Him with eyes full of reverence. With tears of fear, he kneels on his one remaining knee.

Although flames still burn behind their backs, the light and heat do not violate the radiance that surrounds 'Him'.

He places His hand on the shoulder of the man with snake tattoos, mutters something, and soon turns His head.

Toward him.

Toward Achak.

Achak trembles just from that gaze. Though He was nearly naked with His clothes burned, He exuded a more overwhelming power than a fully armed warrior.

Looking around, everyone was on their knees, offering worship. It didn't seem to matter which tribe they belonged to, or who had killed whom.

He stands in front of Achak, whose arms are restrained.

And says.

"I don't know who... you lost."

"..."

"I express my condolences."

"Ah, ughh..."

Overwhelmed, no words come out.

He had so much he wanted to say.

He wanted to ask why He didn't drive out the Catawba devils, no, why He didn't kill them.

He wanted to question why He accepted them into the community.

Why, why... why...

Numerous 'whys' pile up and turn into tears. He could only spill out tears.

"Uh... uhh... uhuh..."

And as if knowing everything he wanted to say, He speaks.

"Please release this person's restraints."

"...Nemo, it's dangerous."

"Such a situation hardly poses a 'danger' to me."

"...Release him."

Those who had been hesitating at Raleigh's words release Achak's arms. Then He personally lifts Achak, who had collapsed to the ground.

Achak looks up at Him. He sees the still brightly burning flames behind His back, draped like a cloak.

The stars and moon of the night sky become like a crown placed on His head, and His body that can never be injured becomes the most absolute armor.

He, He is...

"Uh, uhh... ughhh..."

"Stand up. And..."

He draws the knife that was tucked at his waist.

"...I know what you must do."

"Wh... what? What?"

He raises his hand and gives him the knife.

Unable to understand the current situation, Achak becomes even more confused. Why? After saving that man with snake tattoos, is He now asking me to kill him? Why?

And.

Thrust.

"Uhh... uh...?"

The dagger pierces His chest.

"..."

"..."

"..."

At that moment.

Everyone here falls silent.

The Spanish who came to offer prayers.

The Algonquins who rushed to contain the flames.

The English who ran to resolve the situation.

And all of the many people gathered here.

They witness the sight of Him plunging a knife into His own chest.

And He whispers in Achak's ear.

"Your resentment... I will bear it all."

"..."

"Right here.

If it doesn't end here, then forever."

Slice.

And with an eerie sensation, the knife was drawn out of His heart again.

Amid the overflowing blood, there wasn't even a trace of a scar.

Achak knelt and shed tears.

Then rain fell upon this harsh world.

The flames, along with hatred, were gradually subsiding.

Achak... said nothing.

He just held onto Nemo's legs and wept.

==

Sometimes this world is very cruel to people.

If only enough bread is given for just 1 out of 100 hungry people, they might have to become cruel.

That doesn't mean they are evil people.

But from that, gradually malice sprouts, resentment accumulates, and the starting point of wars spanning generations opens.

This is not because people are cruel.

It's because this world... is cruel.

This time, the Catawba and Tutelo tribes killed these people's families and neighbors.

But the last time, these people probably killed people from the Catawba and Tutelo tribes.

Conflicts and wars between tribes are all too common in this land. Even at this moment, it's just a fleeting moment among continuing, complex chains of grievances.