Night Journey

Chapter 4 Sense of Responsibility

The armory was cleared out, leaving only a terrified Cillian, who knelt there anxiously.

Nunn Soflowa.

A mysterious and legendary man, according to the previous mayor, Nuen had been living in White Cliff Town since he was a child.

Now, he has stepped down and is in poor health, but Nunn is still full of vitality.

No one knows Nunn's true age, but based on snippets of conversation from the townspeople, Ciri can only guess that Nunn is at least over a hundred years old.

Ordinary people don't live to such an old age, let alone be so brave and skilled in battle.

Nunn is no ordinary person.

Just like the article that the townspeople often add when they talk about him.

Nunn Sofrova is the only torchbearer and the only superhuman in White Cliff.

“Cillian, lift your head.”

Hearing that cold voice, Ciri involuntarily looked up, the cross-shaped longsword almost touching him.

Nunn carefully examined Cillian's cheeks, brow bones, and pupils... as if he were inspecting a piece of merchandise.

How did you get through that night?

"Just like you taught me, build a campfire, ignite the soul essence, and fight to the death against the demons that come from the darkness."

Despite his mind being filled with nonsensical ramblings, Cillian responded calmly.

"Fight until dawn."

"When I found you, you were already unconscious and covered in wounds."

"That was a fierce battle, teacher."

Nunn's words went straight to the heart of the matter, questioning, "During the all-night battle, were you touched by the gray fog?"

Hearing this, Cillian's heart, which had finally calmed down, tightened again.

Sure enough, the problem has come to this crucial point.

Nunn's inquiry was less about the gray fog and more about his suspicion that Cirion had been corrupted by chaos.

Cillian took a deep breath, and a childhood memory rose from the depths of his mind.

At that time, Cillian had only been training with Nunn for a short time when a drunkard climbed up the high wall to show off his ridiculous masculinity.

By the time Nunn tied him up, the drunkard had sobered up.

He wept uncontrollably, repeatedly begging Nunn for mercy, claiming that he had not been touched by the gray fog and had merely wandered around the high walls.

Nunn didn't believe him and insisted on beheading him. Young Cillian felt that his teacher was too bloodthirsty and cold-hearted, and pleaded for the drunkard.

“He looked perfectly normal, with no claws or extra compound eyes.”

Surprisingly, the usually cold-blooded Nunn actually listened to Cillian's request and let the townsman go. Cillian was also pleased with himself for saving an innocent person.

But when Cillian saw the townsman again, his hands had been deformed into terrifying claws, his face was completely twisted and sunken, and his crooked teeth stretched his mouth so that it could not close.

Fortunately, the corrupted townspeople did not harm anyone. At Cillian's request, Nunn secretly followed the townspeople until he was completely transformed into a demon, and dragged him to the square of White Cliff Town once again.

"Do you see that, Cillian? That's the terrifying thing about Chaos."

Nunn's words were like knives, etched into Cirion's soul.

"In this cruel world, meaningless pity will only harm everyone."

If Nunn hadn't secretly followed this town resident, it's hard to imagine how many more lives the town resident, transformed into a demon, would have taken.

People must take responsibility for their choices.

With a cryptic remark from Nunn, a sword was handed to Cirion.

Cillian understood what he had to do next and sadly began to call out the names of the townspeople.

"I'm sorry, Bell."

It was Cirion who allowed Bell to become corrupt, and it is he who should end it all.

To this day, Cillian still remembers that day.

There was no unease or fear, not even a ripple of emotion.

Cillian calmly plunged the sword into Bell's chest, personally killing the first person, or perhaps the first demon, in his life.

It's like killing a livestock.

From that moment on, it was as if a tightly closed door had been opened.

Something terrible was spreading through Cillian's mind...

"Why have you been silent for so long this time? Are you trying to fabricate a lie that can deceive me?"

Nunn gently brought the cross-shaped longsword close to Cirion's neck.

“No,” Cillian shook his head, “I was just thinking about something.”

"what's up?"

"I was thinking, if I became a demon, would I tear Tim's throat apart in the night, or cut Mick into four pieces?"

Even when talking about serious and bloody matters, Cillian wore a self-deprecating smile.

"It doesn't matter whether those two bastards live or die, but what about Ava? She's so cute, it wouldn't be pretty if I bit off her arm."

Nunn remained silent, listening quietly to Cillian's words.

"I don't like this kind of future, so I won't live a life of ignominy."

Cillian's tone turned serious, as if mimicking Nunn's. "Teacher, I did indeed fight the demons until dawn, but before dawn, I lost my torch and soul essence, and was enveloped in thick gray fog. I could clearly feel my body freezing, and even..."

Ciri stared into Nunn's eyes and continued, "I even saw demons taking your form and striding toward me."

"Then?"

Nunn was exceptionally patient with Cirion; anyone else would probably have been beheaded the moment they mentioned being shrouded in gray mist.

Do not……

Cillian squeezed the blanket beneath him. If it were anyone else spending the night in the wilderness, Nunn would simply assume they were dead, instead of going through all the trouble to find him and bring him back before nightfall.

"After that, I broke free from the shackles of that chill and smashed the demon's face... Dawn broke."

Cirien recalled carefully, looking down at his left palm. The golden ouroboros mark seemed like an illusion from that night, nowhere to be found.

Recalling the good old days, Cillian mustered his courage and asked cautiously.

"What are you going to do to me next, cut off my head?"

When Ciri chose to be honest with Nunn, he was prepared to be killed.

Nunn sheathed his cross-shaped sword and removed his shackles.

"I am pleased with your honesty and your inherent sense of responsibility."

Cillian was stunned by Nunn's words and stammered.

"I...I wasn't shrouded in gray mist, corrupted by chaos? I thought you would..."

"All the facts prove that there are indeed no signs of chaotic pollution on you."

Nunn sat down on a chair to the side, leaning to one side, propping his head up with his hand, his eyes filled with incomprehension and confusion.

“I can’t sense any chaotic energy from you. During the two days you were unconscious, there were no signs of decay. You’ve been exposed to the sun for so long, so you’re just a little sunburned.”

Nunn sighed, "Perhaps you really are a lucky boy, born with a resistance to chaos, just like when I picked you up."

The teacher's words reminded Cillian of his past. He had no recollection of how he was taken in by Nunn; he learned about his experiences from the townspeople and Nunn himself.

It is said that when Nunn found himself in a desolate wasteland, he was the sole survivor of a band that had met with misfortune in the night.

The body at the scene had been decomposing for some time, indicating that Cillian had spent at least several days and nights in the wilderness.

Nunn had intended to give young Ciri a quick death, but to his surprise, Ciri showed no signs of Chaos corruption. After several struggles, he brought Ciri back.

"Chaos...resistance?" Cillian asked skeptically. "Do such people really exist?"

"I don't know, maybe I'm just ignorant."

Nunn lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

He always maintained an ascetic lifestyle, with no property or family, patrolling the high walls day and night, and cigarettes were his only hobby and expression of desire.

“You knew I was alright from the start,” Cillian whispered, “then why just now…”

“I just wanted to confirm your beliefs,” Nunn replied. “Some people become brave and glorious when faced with life and death, while others become cowardly, base, and pathetic.”

Cillian lowered his head silently and whispered, "What if I had just survived?"

Nothing will happen, I'm just a little disappointed in you.

Nunn countered, "Are you disappointed in me, Cillian?"

"What's disappointing?"

"I returned directly to Baiya Town that night without looking for you."

Cillian couldn't help but laugh. "Teacher, are you starting to care about what I think of you?"

Nunn was completely unpretentious, and his voice was sincere: "My students have not disappointed me, and naturally I don't want them to feel disappointed either."

“How could that be? We’re all responsible people, we can tell the difference between what’s good and bad,” Cillian said with emotion. “Besides, you came back to me, didn’t you?”

Before Ciri fell into a coma, a familiar figure broke through the ashes and strode towards him.

He had thought it was a hallucination before his death, but now he was certain that Nunn had come and brought him back to White Cliff Town.

"Um……"

Nunn didn't say anything more, sometimes staring at Cillian, sometimes his eyes unfocused, as if he was thinking about something.

After a long while, Nuen slowly got up and spoke.

"You should focus on recovering from your injuries. You don't need to participate in the night patrols for the next week."

After saying that, Nunn turned and left, as swiftly and decisively as he had come.

Cillian finally breathed a sigh of relief, noticing Nunn's unusual behavior.

Nunn is a teacher who is so strict as to be inhuman. He often talks about his so-called sense of responsibility and demands the highest standards from the Soflow brothers. What is admirable is that he also holds himself to the same ironclad rules.

Nunn rarely reveals his personal feelings.

But today was different. Cillian had never seen his teacher so confused. Even years ago, when the demons breached the old high walls and Nunn blocked the breach alone until dawn, he had never shown such an obvious expression.

Perhaps, in Nunn's life, killing enemies is the simplest thing, just like eating and drinking.

“Cillian!”

The cheerful shouts interrupted Cillian's thoughts. Tim and Mick walked in and ran excitedly toward him. Ava passed through them and won first place.

Ava hugged Cillian tightly, showing her affection for him without any restraint. Tim and Mick followed suit and hugged him too, and the group of them huddled together.

"It hurts!"

Laughter drowned out Cillian's shouts.

(End of this chapter)