Upon reaching the city gates, Jonan and Cham Cham reunited with Enric and explained everything that had happened.
"What?!" Enric exclaimed. "I specifically told you both to avoid trouble and stay away from nobles!" He sighed deeply, disappointment clearly visible on his face. "Jonan, I'd expect this kind of thing from Cham Cham, but you… You're lucky I've already sold the goods, so we can get out of here before that noblewoman changes her mind." His expression was irritated, yet relief began to show.
So Jonan, Cham Cham, and Enric quickly departed, heading back to the Bloodthorns' camp. This time, they wisely chose to avoid the forest after their previous experience, settling to sleep along the roadside inside the wagon.
"Jonan," Cham Cham began nervously, "you're not really thinking about returning to her, right?" His expression was anxious, he'd learned that Jonan could be slightly reckless sometimes.
Enric jumped into the conversation, "What are you talking about? Why would he return there? He probably gave her some random knife he found and made up a story to free you. Now get some sleep." Enric's voice was calmer, though tiredness crept across his features.
"I do plan on going back," Jonan said quietly, his expression unreadable.
Cham Cham stared at Jonan in disbelief and immediately began speaking rapidly, almost incoherently. "Jonan, you can't be serious! After what she did? She nearly killed me, took our money, armor, weapons—and even the Kentucky!"
Enric joined in, his voice surprisingly sharp and aggressive, entirely unlike himself. "What are you thinking, going back to her? For that knife? Do you even realize what you're saying? Those are nobles you're talking about—nobles!" Jonan was taken aback, he'd never seen Enric behave this way in the four years he'd known him.
Jonan replied calmly, "Cham Cham, she apologized and returned our belongings. Besides, I gave her my word and that knife—both things I value deeply. Enric, I don't understand why you're reacting this way, but my decision is final. Still, I'm open to hearing why you're so opposed to me working for a noble." Jonan's voice remained calm, though inwardly he was concerned about Enric. The Enric he knew was laid-back and mischievous, not this angry, scary stranger.
Cham Cham turned toward Enric, equally puzzled by his behavior. Enric had always been like an older brother to him and to Tim, seeing him act this way unsettled Cham Cham, but he felt he needed to support Jonan.
"Jonan," Cham Cham said firmly, "if you're going to work for that crazy woman, you'll need a friend to lean on. I'm coming with you." He puffed out his chest proudly, thinking, I'm such a good friend.
Enric fell silent after Jonan's words, realizing how he'd acted. Jonan turned back to Cham Cham, "Are you sure? I don't think it's wise, I saw how you and Lady Slythrone got along. Even if you were on good terms, it's too dangerous."
Cham Cham repliad with a serious tone, "Jonan, I owe you my life—this isn't even a question. I'll follow you through fire and water. This is what Tim would have wanted, to move forward and stick by my new brother."
Jonan smiled slightly, acknowledging Cham Cham's determination. He then turned to Enric gently, "Enric, do you want to tell us why you reacted that way?"
Enric hesitated, then sighed deeply, "No—but I apologize for how I reacted. I have unfinished business with nobles."
Jonan replied softly, "So do I," offering a small smile. "You know my story. I'm sure you'd feel better if you shared yours." Jonan placed a comforting hand on Enric's shoulder.
Enric sighed again and finally agreed, "Fine, I'll tell you, but it won't be a pleasant story." His voice was cold, heavy with sadness. Jonan and Cham Cham nodded solemnly, preparing to hear Enric's tale.
It all happened ten years ago...
108 years after the apocalypse.
"Mom, Mom! Look at what I found!" Enric shouted excitedly, holding up a wooden branch shaped like a sword. His mother chuckled softly, "Good job, sweetheart. Now put the stick in your room and go help your father. He's out in the field harvesting the crops," she said gently and with a warm tone.
"Okay, Mom!" Enric replied enthusiastically, running off to his small room. The modest room held just a single candle and two small wooden beds—one for him and one for his younger brother. Enric quickly placed the stick beneath his bed and hurried outside to his father.
He stepped out of their modest wooden hut and spotted his father and younger brother, Cheesy, working in the distance. "Cheesy! Dad!" he called excitedly, running toward them. But before he could finish, a loud, thunderous noise of galloping horses interrupted him.
Men wearing iron armor rode rapidly toward their village. Enric's father looked confused and frightened but with determined eyes, he swiftly lifted Cheesy, who was four years younger than Enric, into his arms, rushing towards Enric. Frozen by fear at the sight of the approaching riders, Enric couldn't move. His father grabbed him too, holding each boy in one arm, sprinting back toward their hut.
Breathing heavily, his father burst through the hut door. His mother, terror in her eyes, quickly grabbed Cheesy, taking Enric's hand and leading them to the cellar.
"Enric," she said urgently, with tears in her eyes, turning toward her husband briefly. "I need you to protect your brother. No matter what you hear, you must stay quiet. Promise me!" she said firmly, gazing desperately into Enric's eyes. At that moment, the hut door shattered, and his father moved to confront the intruders. The sounds of blows and screams echoed from the entryway.
"Promise me, Enric! Please!" his mother pleaded again, desperation filling her voice. "I promise, Mom," Enric replied, his voice trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks as he held his younger brother tightly. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but he knew he had to keep his promise.
His mother closed the cellar door, and all he could hear was endless screaming. Eventually, silence fell, and when Enric finally emerged from the cellar, clutching Cheesy's hand tightly, he saw the bodies of his parents near the doorway. His father had been cut into pieces, and his mother lay scarred, clothes torn, jaw broken, blood pooling beneath her body.
Enric was never the same after that day...
118 years after the apocalypse
"Enric," Jonan said gently, sadness and anger evident in his voice. He placed a comforting hand on Enric's shoulder. "One day, we'll get revenge on whoever did this. I promise you," he said fiercely, his voice filled with determination and hatred.
Cham Cham moved closer and hugged Enric softly, asking, "And what about your younger brother, Cheesy?" Enric replied coldly, "I don't know. Years later, slave traders caught us and sold us separately."
Enric's gaze remained cold and sad, yet deep within, something seemed to have change.