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Chapter 22
He glanced irritably at the door through which Uben had just left.
‘What’s with him?’
From what I’d seen so far, he wasn’t one to show much expression.
Lumi had never shown his emotions so openly before.
“Idorian, that’s fine and all, but where do you plan on luring the zombies?”
But soon enough, his face returned to its usual relaxed look.
“They only die if their heads are cut off, so we’ll need to think about where to lure them—and what to do afterward.”
“Right. Even if we lure them, if we have to fight them one by one, it’s meaningless.”
Idorian nodded quietly at Lumi’s words before speaking again.
“…If we burn them, wouldn’t they all die at once?”
There had never been any mention in the novel about killing zombies with fire.
That probably meant it was impossible.
“Yeah, maybe.”
But Lumi slowly blinked, then agreed with Idorian’s suggestion.
“I once saw a zombie in the forest collapse after losing its arm.”
“A zombie collapsed?”
“And it didn’t get up for a long time. I think it might have died.”
“…It died like that?”
Idorian tilted his head slightly.
Everyone in the room looked equally puzzled.
Those creatures had always rushed at people even when their limbs were torn off, as if damage didn’t matter.
“I’m not sure, but it seemed like if their limbs are cut off, they die slowly even if their necks stay intact.”
Lumi shrugged.
“If that’s true, we could kill them by burning them.”
Once again, something that had never been mentioned in the original story.
“So you’re saying that the zombies might slowly die after being attacked?”
Lilia asked again, as if to confirm. Lumi nodded.
“There’s no way to verify that.”
Heresthen clicked his tongue in frustration.
“Your Highness, perhaps His Majesty the Emperor has a captured zombie.”
“I’ll inquire. If we can confirm it that way, it would be good.”
“If it turns out they can’t be killed that way, then we should postpone dealing with them—perhaps capture and immobilize them instead.”
Idorian nodded.
“Then I’ll reply to His Majesty with that for now. Duke, come with me.”
Heresthen left the room with Idorian.
“At least we’ll be able to return to the capital soon. That’s such a relief.”
Lilia’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke.
“I’ve actually been really anxious about all this.”
Lumi just nodded lightly, silently agreeing.
“But, Lumi—”
As Lumi stood up, seemingly about to leave, I hurriedly spoke up.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure that zombie was really dead?”
No matter how I racked my brain, there was nothing like that in the novel.
So there was no way a zombie could die like that.
“I believe so.”
Lumi replied curtly, without hesitation, and left the room.
The cold storage room, lined with thick stone walls, was filled with large sacks and wooden crates stacked neatly along the walls.
Between tightly tied sacks, one had come loose, and when I peeked inside, I saw grains.
The others were probably the same.
There were large jars full of salt, and on the wall shelves were small jars and boxes that seemed to hold spices.
Root vegetables like potatoes, carrots, and onions were covered with hay.
On a high shelf were several sacks and blocks of cheese. Near the stairs, large wooden barrels gave off a faint smell of alcohol—probably beer or wine.
“Ah…”
From the rounded, arched ceiling hung a few pieces of meat.
‘So Uben didn’t catch those after all.’
The chicken we’d eaten for dinner the day we arrived must have come from here.
So this fortress hadn’t been abandoned after all. The estate must have been regularly supplying it with provisions.
With this much food, the six of us could easily survive for years.
Then why, in the novel, did Idorian and Heresthen leave the fortress to find supplies?
‘Am I remembering the story wrong?’
As I pondered that, the storage door creaked open and Uben came down the stairs.
“……”
Even though he clearly saw me, he refused to look my way—probably determined to ignore me completely now.
He came down, walked right past me, and headed to the sacks of grain.
“Uben, stop catching birds.”
I spoke first.
“Don’t ever pull that kind of trick on me again.”
Flinch. His small shoulders trembled.
“Why not?”
But then he shot back defiantly,
“You bully everyone else, but you can’t stand being picked on yourself?”
“……”
“Why are you so shameless?”
Now he was facing me directly, glaring.
“I know you hate me. And I know I did wrong.”
Uben’s eyes were wide and unyielding, as if he had nothing to be ashamed of.
“But that doesn’t make what you did right—and taking your anger out on me isn’t some kind of atonement.”
That must not have been what he wanted to hear, because his eyebrows twisted angrily.
“…See? You’re not even sorry.”
“I’m done covering for your mistakes.”
The only reason I covered for him earlier was because he’d been trembling so badly—he’d looked terrified his wrongdoing might be discovered.
“If you keep trying to mess with me, you’ll have to face the consequences yourself.”
He still seemed to think I was shameless, as if enduring his tantrums was my rightful punishment.
I walked past him and climbed the stairs, opening the storage door.
In the kitchen, only Lumi remained.
I worried for a second that he might’ve overheard me—since sound might echo in the stone halls—but he was crouched down, peeling onions with full concentration.
“Penelope, you said you’re done catching birds, right?”
As I was about to pass through the kitchen, he spoke.
“Then help me with this.”
He gestured to the spot beside him as if telling me to sit.
“R…right now?”
“You said you’re not skipping work, didn’t you?”
“Ah, fine.”
Realizing he was referring to our earlier conversation in the parlor, I sat down.
Well, the storage door had been shut tightly—he couldn’t have heard what happened inside.
The onions Lumi was peeling had begun to sprout.
“Cut them all.”
“All of these?”
The basket was piled high with onions.
“If we wait too long, they’ll rot completely. Cut off the soft parts too.”
He sighed briefly, annoyed, then quickly resumed peeling.
I sat beside him, trimming away the sprouted and mushy bits.
Then the sound of the storage door opening reached us.
Tap, tap, tap—heavy footsteps.
Uben walked straight through the kitchen with a blank face and left.
Lumi watched him go, then went back to chopping onions and tossing them into a large pot.
“Sniff… sniff.”
I looked up when I heard the soft sobbing sounds beside me.
His face was already drenched with tears from the sting of the onions.
As he wiped his face with his forearm, the knife in his hand sliced wildly through the air.
“Lumi, put the knife down. That’s dangerous.”
“Penelope, you’re fine, sniff. Look.”
“Go wash your face. It’ll feel better if you rinse it with water.”
Lumi nodded slowly, got up, and went out to the back garden.
He didn’t come back for quite a while—
not until I’d finished cutting every onion in the basket.
When I finally looked up, wondering how long it could take to wash one’s face, Lumi was standing just outside the door, staring blankly inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Just thinking.”
He was obviously hiding from the onion chore.
“Liar. You were just avoiding work.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I really was thinking.”
“What about?”
Half-lidded eyes, he shrugged.
“A lot of things…”
Then he finally stepped inside, carrying the pot full of chopped onions, and set it on the table.
“First of all, I was wondering why you went out of your way to cover for that kid.”
