novelraw Chapter 68 68: I’m too weak to go with you?
Chapter 68 68: I’m too weak to go with you?
Adam was so stunned by her words that he went speechless.
He looked at Natalia as if she'd just said something completely irrational - as if this wasn't about heading out to clear another street, but about walking straight into the jaws of some beast they'd just heard a story about, one filled with blood, rape, and shattered bones.
He opened his mouth - ready to speak, ready to object - but she didn't even look at him. Her gaze was locked on Arnold, cold and immovable, as if he'd stopped being a person and had become nothing more than a signpost pointing toward her target.
Leon frowned, watching her more closely.
This wasn't her usual cool confidence - the one she wore like a second coat. This was heavier. More personal. Something that made the aura around her feel denser than usual.
Roland vanished.
Just like that - at least to ordinary eyes.
One second he was leaning on his cane a few steps away, looking bored. The next, he was already standing beside Natalia, as if he'd planned to walk with her from the start. Interestingly, he didn't say a word. He didn't try to stop her, didn't try to encourage her either. He simply moved alongside her with the calm step of an old man who'd seen enough in life not to comment on every decision.
Arnold and Victor went pale.
The thought of returning to Ragnar flashed across their faces like a shadow. Their eyes lost focus for a moment, as if they were seeing that corridor again - the broken legs, the laughter.
Victor tried to speak first.
"Th-that's not a good idea. He's…"
"Don't waste my time," Natalia cut him off.
Her voice was flat. No raised tone. But there was something in that flatness that forced silence.
"Lead the way."
Arnold swallowed. He glanced sideways at Victor, who clearly wanted to back out - but seeing the frost beneath her feet and feeling the cold radiating from her body, they both understood resistance was pointless right now.
"O-okay… you can follow us," Arnold said finally, his voice quieter than before.
Adam stepped forward.
"I'm going with you," he said toward Natalia.
She didn't respond.
Leon, however, moved faster, stepping into his path and stopping him with a single stride.
"You're not going anywhere."
Adam looked at him with open anger now - no longer trying to hide it.
"What do you mean?" he growled. "You think this ends with tea and conversation? There's going to be a fight."
"Exactly," Leon snorted. "Which is why you're even less needed."
"All the more reason I should go," Adam shot back, tightening his grip on his bow. "If something happens to her…"
"You'll be dead weight," Leon cut in coldly. "In a building your ranged attacks are useless, and we'll have to watch your back on top of everything else. This isn't an open street."
In his mind, he added something far less polite. Looking at Adam's mental state - and that painfully obvious infatuation - Leon was certain that in a critical moment Adam might do something stupid just because Natalia was nearby.
"We're splitting up," Leon said more calmly, glancing at Marek and Elena. "Me, Natalia, and Roland go with them. You escort the rest back to base and secure the food transport."
Marek nodded without protest, as if he'd expected this outcome from the start. Elena did too, though her fingers tightened slightly in the cat's fur.
Adam clenched his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw stood out.
"You really think I'm too weak to go with you?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Leon glanced back over his shoulder.
"That's exactly what I mean."
That hit.
Adam stepped forward half a pace, like he genuinely wanted to punch him - but Leon sighed quietly and stopped once more.
"Listen, horny dog," he said more evenly, without mockery in his tone - which was rare. "This isn't about humiliating you. It's simple: an archer inside a tight building gives us no advantage. And someone has to lead this group while we're gone. Out of all of us, you're the best fit for that… unless you'd rather Marek take command."
The last line carried a trace of irony, but the point was clear.
Adam looked at Natalia.
She was already walking.
She didn't turn back even once.
He stared at her back for several seconds, like he could force her to look at him through sheer will. Then he lowered his gaze and said through clenched teeth,
"Fine… just watch her back."
Leon nodded, relieved they wouldn't keep arguing.
He glanced once more at Calista.
"You're taking my position in the formation. Left flank."
The girl straightened immediately and nodded seriously.
The next second Leon vanished from where he stood and reappeared several meters ahead - beside Roland and Natalia, who were already following Arnold and Victor toward the buildings where Ragnar was supposedly hiding.
Adam stood there silently for a moment, watching their figures recede.
Then he turned to the rest.
"We're heading back to base," he said firmly. "Same formation as before. No one wanders."
And though anger still lingered in his voice, he forced himself to keep control - knowing the weight of responsibility now sat on his shoulders: getting these people safely back to shelter.
***
The room that had once served as a private relaxation lounge for university lecturers and rectors still retained traces of its former elegance - even after the apocalypse. Though now that luxury was nothing more than a hollow shell of a world no one was sure still existed beyond memory.
Thick, dark-green carpets still covered the floor, muffling footsteps so well that several people could move almost silently. Heavy mahogany shelves were lined with books and leather-bound documents that no longer held any value - no one cared about university regulations when corpses walked outside.
Old paintings hung on the walls - landscapes, portraits of former rectors, scenes of academic ceremonies - now all coated in a thin layer of dust, as if time itself had stopped caring.
At the center stood a low, wide table of dark wood, surrounded by leather armchairs so soft that after a week of sleeping on hard floors, they felt like luxury fit for kings.
And in one of those chairs sat a young man.
Handsome face. Sharp features. A confident - almost arrogant - expression that betrayed no one had dared oppose him for days. His athletic body lounged carelessly, one leg propped on the table. In his hand was a bottle of alcohol, clearly taken from one of the lecturers' locked cabinets.
He took a long swig, grimaced slightly - then smirked, as if the mere fact he could drink alcohol at the end of the world amused him.
Three female students hovered around him.
Two sat close - one leaning on the armrest, the other at the table - both smiling overly sweetly, laughing at everything he said, whether it was funny or not.
The third sat on his lap.
Petite. Slender. With a delicate face and a body that looked almost fragile. She smiled softly whenever Ragnar spoke, tilting her head as if absorbing every word.
Because this was Ragnar.
"That little dog Witold is really arrogant…" he spat to the side, tightening his grip on the girl's waist. "He actually thinks that just because he used to be a lecturer he can give me orders?"
His fingers pressed harder into her hip.
"We'll see if he's still so talkative now that I broke his legs. Maybe next time he'll remember his place."
Two of the women flinched.
For a moment the forced sweetness vanished from their eyes as the corridor scene flashed back - screams, snapping bones, Ragnar's laughter.
The girl on his lap twitched too - but instead of pulling away, she leaned closer and kissed his neck lightly.
"King Ragnar…" she purred softly. "Why bother thinking about a fly like him? Everyone here knows your power is the only reason we're still alive."
Ragnar laughed throatily, grabbing her chin.
"My little Lili… you're still the best."
He kissed her deeply, without a trace of gentleness - and she didn't resist in the slightest.
Her name was Lilianne. Fifth-year student.
One of the few women who'd given herself to Ragnar willingly - if willingness even meant anything in a world where survival was a currency more valuable than dignity. She feared him like everyone else - but she'd learned quickly that staying close to him meant better food, warmth, and power over others.
And she'd grown used to that power.
Just as Ragnar was about to pull her closer, ready to start another round of indulgence, the door burst open.
"KING!"
One of his messengers rushed in, pale as a sheet.
"Those two dogs - Arnold and Victor - are back!"
Ragnar had already opened his mouth to curse him for interrupting, but the words froze halfway.
A malicious glint lit his eyes.
He laughed.
"I knew those two little ants wouldn't last long…" He rose slowly from the chair. "Hunger got them faster than I thought. Came crawling back like dogs with their tails tucked."
He set Lili down more gently than expected. She brushed her lips against his skin one last time.
Desire flickered in his eyes - then vanished, replaced by excitement.
"I'll show them what happens when you run from me."
He headed for the door.
The messenger hurried beside him.
"King… they didn't come alone."
Ragnar stopped mid-step.
"What do you mean?"
"There are three others," the messenger swallowed. "One's an old man with a cane… another's some average guy…"
He hesitated.
Then leaned closer with a faint grin.
"…and the last one is an unbelievably beautiful woman."
Ragnar slowly turned his head toward him.
A lecherous smile spread across his lips.
"Really?"
The messenger nodded.
And the gleam in Ragnar's eyes darkened even further.