Only God

Eden, having awakened, walked out of the forest with the help of the witches.

At this moment, dusk had fallen, marking the end of the hunt, as the horn signaling the return to camp resounded.

Many falcons took to the skies amidst the woods; they soared like flying fish leaping out from an ocean of trees, following the whistles and horns toward the vast camp. Each hunter greeted their companions, whether they had game or not, offering the long-prepared jerky, and the hunting dogs received the same gifts.

From the camp came news of the hunt. It was said that despite the brevity of today's hunt, the Princess still managed to bag a moose.

Not only that, after catching the moose, she did not kill the animal but instead healed its wounds and released it back into the forest.

This deed highlighted the Princess's compassion and mercy. The scribes accompanying her recorded the event, and before long, it would be crafted into poetry to be spread by the Minstrels.

The horn continued its call. The much-praised Arsia stood on a hill overlooking the distant forest, which was tinted with the golden hues of dusk.

Campfires were already lit in the camp, where soldiers guzzled drink at this moment, savoring food shared by the Noble officers. They would continue to do so for several more days, for the hunt was not a single day's affair but stretched over several days.

People chatted and laughed, sharing tales and sightings from the forest—some made-up, some exaggerated—with drums beginning to beat throughout the camp.

Despite the joy in the camp, Arsia seemed troubled.

No one knew how many arrows the Princess had fired during the hunt.

Maybe dozens, maybe hundreds?

Only Arsia knew that the arrows she had shot could be counted on her two hands.

She had been distracted all day, with no real interest in hunting.

Before long, she said she was tired and weary, dismissed the attentive officers, and stood alone on the hill. Her guards dared only to watch from a distance at the foot of the hill, not daring to disturb her.

Suddenly, Arsia seemed to see something.

In nearly the blink of an eye, the exhausted Princess appeared energized and hurried down the hill toward the camp.

Her guards thought she was returning to her tent to rest, so they did not follow.

After zigzagging past several tents, at last, under an oak tree, Arsia spotted Eden.

The cheerful Eden bowed politely.

Arsia lifted her skirt slightly and walked towards Eden.

"I heard you caught a moose and let it go."

Eden, looking at the bustling camp, began to speak.

Regardless, he had truly returned safely.

God, praise be to you.

Eden said inwardly.

The tall Arsia looked down at him, then blinked her beautiful eyes and said with a smile:

"No, not at all."

"What?"

"I didn't catch any moose."

Arsia said with a light laugh,

"The moose was already prepared by the Paladin. I just shot an arrow at random, and it fell to the ground. In truth, my arrow didn't even come close to hitting it, it was good ten meters away. It's an old actor already!"

"So, it's all falsified, deliberately concocted rumors?"

Eden asked with doubt.

"Of course, but it's enough to fool these foolish soldiers, giving them a reason to celebrate. Once the poetry is sung, it will also leave a good impression on the citizens of this country."

Arsia described the situation in a jovial tone.

The sun dipped, dusk imprisoned in the distant mountains. Camp pulsated with lively drumbeats. Eden saw, behind Arsia's head, there were vast expanses of fiery clouds, exceedingly magnificent, spreading out, dispersing his focus. At a casual glance, with her face amidst the mists and clouds, it seemed she might merge into the painting like a figure on the horizon. The mountains, like papyrus soaked and turning yellow, were warm and pleasing, Arsia appeared as a character in the skyline.

Eden was lost in a daze, his gaze seemingly bewitched. Face to face, the drumbeats of the camp continued, the moose's cry still lingered in the forest; inexplicably, Arsia lowered her head, unconsciously avoiding Eden's gaze.

The horn gradually ceased, followed by the sound of the lute. It was not yet time for the official performance, but the accompanying Minstrels sang carefreely, still eliciting collective cheers from the camp.

At this time, Eden, belatedly snapping back to reality, saw Arsia turn away, her back to him.

"There is a duel tonight."

Arsia spoke.

"Ah, oh. I've only seen a few."

Eden pondered and then continued:

"The Church has stopped many duels, and I've often been the one to help stop them."

Arsia blinked her eyes and asked:

"Hey, you were a Priest then, are you going to duel tonight?"

Eden thought for a moment and shook his head:

"Better not."

Arsia murmured discontentedly:

"Think dueling is too brutish? In these Wilderness areas, how can you survive without being a little savage? Even a Priest should be one who can swing a War Hammer."

Eden was amused by this remark.

"Tonight's duel is nothing really; tomorrow's duel will be fierce."

Arsia said,

"Tomorrow morning we hunt, and in the afternoon is the duel. Envoys from Ausenco will attend, having brought several strong warriors along.

If those wild men from Ausenco win, the barbarians will surely push their advantage, and many will seize the opportunity to swear loyalty to me according to tradition, offering their lifelong valor.

But what do I care for their loyalty? They are like a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing around, hovering back and forth, just thinking about biting a few lumps on you. Hey, with skin as good as mine, I don't fancy being itchy all the time. If I really get bitten, I can only conclude one truth."

"What truth?"

Eden asked subconsciously.

"God gives people good skin, just so they can scratch it."

Arsia said earnestly.