Chapter 250

“Thanks for accepting me.”

Encrid tilted his head.

Suddenly? Now of all times?

Saying you save someone because you can—it felt awkward.

She was a beastkin, once a mercenary among the top groups making a living through banditry in the kingdom.

And now, someone like that risked her neck to save a soldier?

And did that not sit well with him?

No, he liked it a lot.

Encrid dreamed of being a knight, but he never expected those around him to act and think like the knights in stories.

But what about those who don’t save even when they can?

Who turn away from the oppressed, ignore them—why do they do that?

Is it because there’s nothing in their hearts?

Because they’re used to abandoning and ignoring others?

Is it because that’s what benefits them?

In that attitude of ignoring and calculating gain, there’s no honor, no conviction, no loyalty, no burning passion.

‘What do they hope to become by living like that?’

What value is there in a life like that?

Encrid was a man who lived for his dreams.

He couldn’t stand passing by weakness or injustice.

Because there was something burning inside him, he simply couldn’t look away.

That’s why he didn’t dislike Rem for beating up a noble’s son or bashing a superior’s head in. It was the same principle.

“Well done.”

That’s what he said.

The others were left dumbfounded.

One suddenly said thanks, the other said well done.

It felt like everyone was just saying their piece.

Oddly, the conversation actually seemed to go smoothly, which made it even stranger.

Encrid didn’t know what Dunbakel’s true mindset was, but he simply liked the change he saw in her.

In any case, she was a relative underdog, and her actions were for the sake of her comrades, and she hadn’t just thrown her life away.

She’d just met an unexpected foe and did her best.

She also saved her comrades in the process.

It felt like the change in attitude was what had made her into a true member, not just a former thief. He was glad for it.

He didn’t care that she only now said thank you.

‘She’s a little weird too.’

After all, he was the only normal one in the squad.

A former thief doing well now was good enough.

Encrid let it go.

Who cares about thanks or words that just come out of someone’s mouth?

She lived, she saved others, her attitude changed.

That was enough.

Dunbakel accepted Encrid’s praise in her own way.

She took it to mean she’d done well—saving her comrade, and surviving.

Otherwise, there’d be no reason to search for her.

For the first time, Encrid really caught her attention. Black hair, blue eyes, a seemingly indifferent attitude but a quiet consideration beneath.

The man who accepted her, the commander with unbelievable skill.

She survived, she saved a comrade.

It was the result of his will, and she followed it.

Thus, it felt like she truly became one of his subordinates.

Until now, she’d only been there out of necessity, but now, she genuinely felt like she belonged.

“Hey, you look like you just ate something moving. The captain was about to hold your funeral, thought you were dead.”

Rem said.

It was true.

“Is that so?”

Dunbakel didn’t care. Rem clicked his tongue, snorted in disbelief.

“Heh, the black dog does the work and the white dog gets the love, huh.”

Nobody paid Rem’s words any mind. Ragna was sketching a map of the forest in his head.

It was a pointless effort, of course.

‘Wasn’t that the shortcut?’

He thought it was a fast route, but why did it end up somewhere strange?

His sense of direction was just broken, but Ragna just chalked it up to bad luck.

Audin gave a gentle smile.

Seeing Dunbakel save her comrade was the beginning of a change.

He enjoyed watching those who broke through their limits.

Teresa nodded at Dunbakel.

She’d heard this woman had just as complicated a past as herself.

She felt a kind of kinship with the beastkin woman.

Of course, she didn’t show it outwardly.

Jaxson was indifferent.

‘Finally getting useful?’

From the start, the beastkin only knew how to fight, but even that was clumsy.

She was the kind you could’ve just kicked out, but the captain kept her. Jaxson just let it be. He thought she’d die quickly, but she stubbornly survived. That was his only impression.

Encrid checked Dunbakel’s face, shoulder, chest, stomach, and thigh.

He even pressed her wound with his hand.

“This isn’t a good place for that.”

Dunbakel spoke with the practical mind of a beastkin.

Just because you had a strong urge to reproduce didn’t mean you weren’t embarrassed.

There were too many watching eyes. It was uncomfortable to strip down or do anything here, but as for location, it didn’t really matter. You could always do it standing up.

“Stupid beastkin. He’s just checking if he should send you back like this.”

Rem, quick on the uptake, quipped from beside them. Dunbakel wasn’t embarrassed. Just a bit disappointed.

“Let’s go together. The wound hasn’t gotten worse.”

Dunbakel spoke first.

There were good herbs in this forest. That’s why it was called the Grateful Forest.

She’d found something called “ground pine” or “silk grass.” Crush or cut the stalk, and a white sap oozed out.

If you put it on wounds, there was no inflammation.

It was something she’d learned living as a mercenary.

She’d already treated her wound.

Dried sap had turned to white powder and flaked off the wound.

“If you feel like you’re dying, ask Rem to carry you.”

When Encrid said that, Dunbakel scowled, and Rem laughed.

“Try it, and I’ll just cut off your leg with my axe.”

Of course, that wouldn’t really happen. He was joking.

Encrid started walking again.

“Seriously?”

Jaxson asked. He followed silently, but was there really a reason to go back to that horse?

If Encrid meant to return to the territory, he wouldn’t have checked on Dunbakel’s wound, so it wasn’t hard to guess his real aim.

“It’s on my mind.”

Encrid replied. No one had to follow if they didn’t want to. This was his own whim.

If he just returned to the territory, it’d be over.

‘Why?’

He asked himself, but found no answer.

It was a choice made by feeling, not reason.

“You can go on ahead if you want.”

“No, sir.”

Jaxson didn’t argue further, and Rem, seeing that, said he looked like a sly wildcat and should go catch and eat a few dead mice, but Jaxson just ignored him.

Dunbakel didn’t need help.

She wasn’t as strong as a giant, but beastkin were pretty tough.

She didn’t even limp.

“Teresa the wanderer.”

Hadn’t she even introduced herself before?

The newly reborn half-giant woman suddenly gave her name, and Dunbakel glanced up at the much taller woman.

“You don’t know my name?”

“I do.”

“That’s good, then.”

Both belonged to Encrid’s group—that was enough.

Teresa understood.

So the party returned to where the wild horse waited.

The wild horse was still there.

Snort.

It pawed the ground when it saw Encrid. Seemed happy. If they’d left, would it have waited for days?

“Were you waiting?”

Snort.

“So, what’s wrong?”

Snort.

“Hmm. Telling us to follow?”

He said this as the wild horse turned and flicked its tail.

Watching all this, Dunbakel cautiously spoke up.

“Now you’re talking to animals too?”

For a moment, nobody spoke. It looked that way to everyone.

“Does it look like that to you too?”

Rem asked, for once with an unusually serious tone.

‘Is that captain really never going to visit a shrine?’
‘Should I send him to the little temple in Martai?’

Jaxson frowned.

‘It’s all fine, but why’s he talking to animals? Communication and conversation aren’t the same.’

“Heh, all things have meaning, no different from each other,” Audin said, smiling with words that made no sense.

Dunbakel decided to accept it, since she’d chosen to trust and follow.

Actually, she decided she’d try talking with the horse herself sometime.

He was doing what he wanted, and she’d chosen to walk his path.

“Mmm.”

Teresa, who had been killed and then revived by him, took everything with calm. Even talking with a horse didn’t seem worth comment.

“Alright, so we’re going there?”

Encrid wasn’t one to care about what others thought. He simply followed the horse’s gestures.

The wild horse pawed the ground, and the human group followed.

Dozens of wild horses, gathered nearby, followed as well.

Anyone watching from afar would have found it a strange sight.

Walking, they came to a slope. Even plains have ups and downs, but this was a pretty deep one.

From the forest edge, it was so cleverly hidden it couldn’t be seen.

What would you call such land?

A hollowed-out area with no mountains—a plain basin?

It was like a giant god had scooped out the ground by hand.

The land wasn’t the only odd thing.

Encrid, along with stray thoughts, saw traces of something manmade.

A gray wall—half-collapsed, showing the marks of time, yet somehow covered with grapevines, despite winter’s approach.

Black grapes could be seen.

“What’s this?”

Rem muttered. He was just as curious.

A gentle warm breeze drifted up from the basin.

To be exact, it was a warm wind. At this time of year, such warmth was rare in the north.

Encrid picked a few grapes and put them in his mouth.

Sour and sweet.

Perfectly good fruit. The wild horse ate a few, too, as did the rest of the party.

Dunbakel just stuffed a whole cluster in her mouth.

She crunched the seeds—must have been hungry.

No wonder, after three days hiding in the woods.

She probably hadn’t had a proper camp.

“Eat,” Teresa said, pulling out some jerky. Dunbakel ate more grapes and took some jerky too.

No words of thanks.

“Strange place,” Encrid murmured. Or maybe he was asking the wild horse.

Whinny.

The wild horse lowered its head and showed hostility—not at the group, but straight ahead.

Sunlight slanted into the basin, and blue lights glimmered behind the wall.

Not just blue lights.

Clatter.

A rattling sound of joints moving.

“Skeletons?”

Skeleton soldiers with rusty swords and shields.

Undead.

“Looks like a ruined crypt, brother,” Audin said as he looked around.

“The ground must have collapsed, so the grave can’t do its job,” Jaxson added.

In the past, people sometimes filled tombs with undead to guard them.

It looked like one of those hidden tombs often found in treasure-hunters’ journals.

On the right, behind the long gray wall, the number of blue lights grew.

The numbers of those who refused death and walked backward through life increased.

Encrid calmly counted.

‘One, two, three, four… seven?’

Not a small number, but not threatening either.

Who were these people gathered here?

They were the ones who’d just crushed a centaur colony head-on.

Clack, clatter!

A blue-eyed skeleton’s jaw rattled. Undead—especially lower undead—couldn’t speak.

Only high-class undead could show will and intent through what was called lingering thought.

Well, there was no need to talk to monsters.

Jaws rattling, holding sword and shield, some with pointed bone spears, two skeleton hounds as well.

Two hounds, five skeleton soldiers.

Encrid watched and drew his sword.

Chring.

While Encrid drew his sword, a massive figure stepped up first.

“Upon those who stray from the righteous path and walk the way of reversal, judgment is delivered.”

For priests and clerics, undead must always be purged.

Audin pressed his palms together and stepped forward, spreading his hands wide.

Boom.

A rusty sword fell toward Audin. He dodged by taking a half-step forward.

The blade cut the air.

A rusty spear thrust from the side.

It would have looked dangerous to a regular soldier, but not to Audin.

He grabbed the shaft of the incoming spear.

At the same time, he swung his fist like a hammer at the skeleton’s head.

Wham! Crack! Crunch!

He split one skull in two, then grabbed the opposite spear and lifted its owner into the air, slamming it down.

Bang!

With a huge crash, a skeleton was shattered.

“You bastards.”

Audin’s eyes glinted. Encrid had nothing to do.

In an instant, the seven skeletons were wiped out.

“There’s more inside,” Jaxson said, using his trademark sharpness.

Encrid sensed it too.

It was similar to what he felt facing an old magic trap.

An uneasy feeling, and a strange, stinging smell.

Burnt? Smoke?

Then another skeleton appeared before the group, holding a barbed spear—and its whole body, even the spear, was on fire.

Fwoosh!

Even more than ten steps away, a hot wind blew. The heat could be felt on the skin. If they stood here much longer, sweat would start to pour.

“A burning skeleton?”

Rem muttered. That was exactly what it was.

Undead didn’t feel pain, so this was possible. A monster with some kind of never-ending fire spell cast over its entire body.

Whinny!

The wild horse cried out when it saw the monster, as if to say this was the reason they’d come.

And it was true.

The wild horse was the lord of this land. The horse recalled the past—the threat it had faced when the ground collapsed here.

It had a duty to protect its herd.

Even having decided to leave, it still knew its responsibilities and had come to ask a human for help.