[INDEF. HIATUS] Regrets and Wishes: One More Chance

Chapter 22 - Story of the Survivors: Decision

INFO: This chapter is released at the same time with the 21st chapter as a double release. Make sure to also check it, if you have not read it.

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第22章　生残者達の話：決定

In a building, standing is a man near a window. His flame-like crimson hair is long and straight, tied in a single ponytail. His eyes are sharp and fierce-looking with orange-coloured iris and tear-like red markings flowing down from the bottom over the cheeks.

What he wears is a black clothing with a thick woollen collar. Covering over it is an armour with a colour scheme that matches his reddish skin. Protrude from his forehead two jet-black horns, clearly telling anyone who sees him that he's of the ogre race, one of the supposedly strongest races in the Great Forest of Jura.

The ogre is looking out the window, mind immersed in a deep contemplation. The curtain of night has fully been unveiled. In the eastern horizon, the sun slowly rises, showing its face to the world as its shining, warm light gradually erases and replaces the cold darkness.

In the town, several people can already be seen passing by on the road, busy for whatever thing they are doing and hurrying to whatever place they are heading to. Passes his eyesight a group of wolf-riding hobgoblins and goblinas led by the tallest and most well-built hobgoblin among them: the one wearing white bandana.

Other than the wolf-riding group, there are also some around the streets, who are carrying some tools and heavy materials. Those some of several people are none other than the hobgoblin workers in charge of the town's construction.

These hobgoblin workers must be working hard every day, he thinks. Yet, they all look so happy. From every single worker he has seen, no one wears a frown upon their faces. All he can see is just a smile.

He sometimes turns his eyes behind to check on his fellow ogres who are also inside the building. Many of them have woken up, but the condition inside the building is still very quiet.

Some of them are hugging their own legs while burying their face on their knees except the eyes; some are leaning on the wall; some are leaning on each other in pair or small group; some others are just sitting cross-legged.

None of them is feeling happy. Everyone is mourning. All of their eyes are staring blankly either at the floor or at the walls. That is understandable, for they have suffered a tragic loss. More than four-fifths of their friends, comrades, and families got killed in a fiery battle against ten thousand orcs.

Some sons and daughters lost their fathers, mothers, or even both; some parents lost their sons and daughters; some husbands lost their wives; some wives lost their husbands; some siblings lost their elder and younger siblings; and some were even left alone with no parents, no siblings, and no close relatives.

He himself also lost many of his loyal friends and families. From the small team he spearheaded near the end of that battle, only one member managed to survive. His elder brother-in-law and the wife got slaughtered when defending their one and only son who, either fortunately or unfortunately, survived and is now here sitting at a corner of the room.

As the chief, the highest leader of his village, he also bears on his shoulders so much feeling of guilt for failing to protect his people. 

If there is anything more meaningful to be grateful for other than simply surviving, it is that his son, his daughter, and the other four whom he and his late team members swore to protect until the end are now in safe condition. It means they have successfully fulfilled their final oath.