Chapter 151
Kane's POV
I stood at the edge of the mine ruins, watching Steven lead the remaining warriors in mopping up the last few Blood River soldiers.
Dawn light pierced the horizon, staining the entire landscape a dark crimson—as if this land was finally spitting out years of suppressed bloodshed.
"The last three were hiding in the eastern tunnel," Steven approached, a bloodstained bandage still wrapped around his arm. "They've been dealt with."
I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the people crawling out from the depths of the mine. They were covered in wounds, their clothes in tatters, yet they all carried a light I had never seen before—the light of regained freedom.
A young mother clutching her child ran toward us, her husband close behind. The two embraced in the crowd, weeping, their child's cries mingling with the cheers. More people poured out, searching for lost loved ones. An old man's trembling hands gripped another elder's shoulders; they said nothing, just held each other tightly, their shoulders shaking violently.
"Daddy! Daddy!" A little girl shrieked as she threw herself at a stubble-faced middle-aged man.
The man knelt down, pulled his daughter into his arms, and sobbed.
They lined the path, waving to us in gratitude.
Some shouted their thanks; others simply wept in silence.
A white-haired old woman gripped my hand, unable to say anything except repeating "thank you" over and over.
I watched these scenes, yet felt no relief in my heart.
This peace was too fragile. Like the brief calm before a storm, it could be torn apart at any moment.
Draven was dead, but the Blood River Pack wouldn't let this go. Word would spread, and more soldiers would come. They would bring stronger weapons, more brutal methods.
And how long could these newly freed people hold out?
My brow furrowed as my gaze fell on the distant horizon. The sunlight was beautiful, but all I saw were shadows.
"Kane."
Dorothy's voice interrupted my thoughts. She stood beside me, her face still bearing the exhaustion of battle, but her eyes were clear and steady.
"Why do you look so worried?" she asked. "We won."
"Won?" I turned to look at her. "This is just the beginning, Dorothy. Draven is dead, but the Blood River Pack remains. They won't let this place go, and they won't let us go!"
I suppose my tone might have been a bit too serious for such a romantic, innocent girl...
She fell silent for a moment, then said softly, "I know. But at least now, these people are free. At least now, they're still alive."
I didn't answer.
I knew she was right, but I couldn't be as optimistic as she was.
Dorothy took a deep breath, her gaze drifting toward the celebrating crowd before returning to me. Her expression was complex, as if hesitating over something.
"Kane," she began, her voice softer than usual, "I want to tell you something."
I looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
"I'm just an ordinary girl," she said, a hint of self-mockery in her tone. "I've never thought about things so deeply. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too carefree. Seeing you think so profoundly, I realize... I should be more independent."
Her words caught me off guard.
I had never imagined she would evaluate herself this way.
"You've already done very well," I said, my voice gentler than I expected. "You can solve problems independently. If it weren't for you today, we couldn't have succeeded."
She looked up, surprise flashing in her eyes, followed by a small smile. But that smile quickly faded, replaced by a determination I had never seen on her face before.
"It's not enough," she said, her voice carrying resolve. "I want to help you, Kane. Truly help you."
The air between us suddenly became subtle. She stood so close that I could see every glimmer of light in her eyes.
The morning light fell on her face, turning her pale hair golden.
I didn't know what to say. This feeling was unfamiliar—not desire or possession, but something pure and warm.
It reminded me of long ago, in the Blood River hostage camp, when Ella looked at me with those amber eyes.
But Dorothy wasn't Ella. She was a completely different person.
"You've already helped a lot," I finally spoke, my voice somewhat hoarse. "More than you imagine."
She shook her head, her gaze growing even more determined.
"No," she said. "What I want to do is more than this. I want to stand beside you and face those threats with you. I don't want to just be someone who's protected, Kane. I want to become someone who can protect others."
Her words struck something soft within me. Looking at her, I suddenly realized she was no longer the girl who needed my protection.
She had killed in battle, stood up in fear, and made choices in despair.
She had grown.
"Alright," I said, a tenderness in my voice that even I hadn't noticed. "Then we'll do it together."
Her eyes lit up, her lips curving into a genuine smile.
That smile was pure, without any impurities, like a rare breeze across this wasteland.
We stood there like that, neither of us speaking.
The cheers around us gradually subsided as people began cleaning up, preparing to leave this place that had once imprisoned them.
Steven approached, breaking the brief tranquility.
"Young master," he said, "we should go home."
I nodded, but my gaze still lingered on Dorothy's face. She looked at me too, her eyes carrying an emotion I couldn't fully understand.
"Let's go," I said, turning toward the crowd.
Dorothy followed behind me.
I could feel her gaze, warm and steady, as if telling me: whatever lies ahead, she would face it with me.
This feeling was strange, but not unpleasant.
Perhaps, in this wasteland consumed by hatred and revenge, I had finally found something else—a bit of hope, a bit of warmth, a reason worth protecting.
I didn't know how long this feeling would last, or whether it could survive the coming storm.
But at least for now, it was there.
And that was enough.