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墨書 Inktalez
By the blood-soaked stream, Oliver stood beside the fallen Leon, his heavy breaths gradually stabilizing, yet his heart felt like a small boat caught in a storm, unable to find peace amidst the raging waves.
He gazed at the bloodstained longsword in his hand, then looked down at Leon, who lay on the ground, bloodied and disheveled, a mix of emotions swirling within him.
“Leon, why are you so foolish?” Oliver murmured, his voice filled with regret and sorrow.
He could not comprehend what kind of jealousy could drive a person to completely lose their sanity and commit such a reckless act.
After a brief moment of distraction, Oliver quickly regained his focus. He knew time was of the essence and he had to manage the scene immediately.
He carefully dragged Leon to a relatively concealed thicket nearby. Though his movements were urgent, he did his best to avoid causing Leon any further harm.
Leon lay unconscious, blood seeping from his forehead, appearing particularly gruesome under the moonlight.
“I hope you wake up and face your mistakes,” Oliver whispered, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes—anger, pity, and concern for what lay ahead.
Once he had taken care of Leon, Oliver began to clean the blood from the grass.
He found a larger stone by the stream and pried up the bloodied turf before using the stream water to wash the ground, trying to restore it to its state before the fight.
The water flowed gently, washing away the dark red blood bit by bit, yet the acrid scent of blood still lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate.
As he cleaned, Oliver's thoughts drifted back to the moments he had shared with Leon.
They had once toiled together in the village, sharing the joy of their harvests; they had also sat by the campfire, discussing their dreams for the future.
Back then, Leon, though somewhat reclusive, was undeniably a man of integrity. But now, everything had been distorted by jealousy.
"Jealousy is truly a terrifying thing," Oliver lamented, his hands continuing their work without pause.
He understood well that jealousy had not only destroyed Leon but had nearly ruined himself as well, and it could potentially bring immense harm to Alice.
After cleaning up the bloodstains, Oliver picked up the scattered wooden barrels and rearranged them neatly.
He checked for any damage to the barrels and, finding none, placed them by the stream.
Next, he began to tidy up the surroundings that had been disrupted during the fight, propping up the trampled flowers and returning the kicked stones to their places.
With each action, he was exceptionally meticulous, as if trying to conceal everything that had just transpired.
Once he finished all this, Oliver returned to Leon's side.
He crouched down to examine Leon's injuries closely.
Leon’s breathing was steady, and his pulse was relatively normal, which eased Oliver's worries slightly.
"Wait here; I’ll go find the village chief," Oliver said as he stood up, preparing to leave.
He had only taken a few steps when he stopped again. Turning back to look at Leon, a sudden wave of unease washed over him.
He worried that during his absence, a wild beast might appear and harm the unconscious Leon; he also feared that Leon might wake up suddenly and do something reckless again.
After much hesitation, Oliver decided to stay by Leon's side for a while longer.
He sat down beneath a nearby tree, his eyes fixed intently on Leon, gripping his sword tightly in case of any emergency.
Moonlight spilled over him, outlining his weary yet resolute figure.
As he waited, Oliver began to contemplate how to explain the situation to the village chief and how to break the news to Alice.
Once this matter spread, it would undoubtedly stir up a huge uproar in the village.
And Alice, being closely connected to both of them, would surely be greatly affected.
"I hope everything will have a good ending," Oliver silently prayed, a hint of confusion and anticipation flickering in his eyes.
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