Chapter 52: Into the Storm
The Mountain Rabbits searched various parts of the village but didn't invest much ti. They were mindful of the assassins' pursuit, and they felt an instinctive sense of crisis from the eerie atmosphere.
"There's nothing left here. They were unusually trustworthy people. It's a sha."
According to Vice-captain Marik's words, it seed to be a village they had connections with from before. However, the veteran rcenaries exchanged more cold-hearted opinions.
"Did they abandon the village and leave?"
"They didn't just leave—they left in a hurry. The food on the table was rotting. Furniture was overturned here and there, too."
"Hmm, it was the largest village in the east... Baron Deila, the lord, was quite a strong knight too. For such a place to end up like this overnight."
"Look at this too. The ground is sticky. It's like soone spat phlegm everywhere..."
"Ella said that's fine. But she told us not to touch it anyway."
In an instant, the rcenaries' gazes turned toward the largest tree in the village. Royce and Ella stood before it, looking up at an animal carcass dripping with blood.
A cow's carcass hung from the topmost branch, while dead dogs lay scattered on the ground below.
"It's not an evil power."
"Then... It must be so kind of shamanism."
"Yes. Shamanism is widespread in the East."
Soon, delicate fingers pointed at the blood flowing down from the tree.
"Look. The blood is divided into exactly three streams. It must be a warning."
"...Does it an to turn back?"
"Probably. They must have seen sothing. Otherwise—"
"They wouldn't have used a cow as a sacrifice. These are people who valued livestock more than their own lives."
"Yes."
Naturally, Royce's mind grew complicated. What had the villagers seen, and what were they trying to warn about? The cow carcass hanging from the branch alone couldn't convey all their intentions.
"We need to keep moving. It'll be a forced march—will you be alright?"
"You don't need to worry about ."
"...We'll reach the Storm Forest in two or three days. Let's endure a bit longer."
However, nothing changed. The Mountain Rabbits' top priority was to drop Adrian Deconti off in the forest. For now, they had to run ceaselessly toward their destination.
Twee-eek.
At that, he gathered the mbers with a small whistle sound, when suddenly he noticed people arguing in one corner of the village.
The one brandishing his shield and fuming was Gregor, and the one shrugging his shoulders in response was Adrian Deconti. Their client.
***
Adrian Deconti had partially noticed Calix's exceptional nature. While their first eting had left a strong impression, it was through the battle with the assassins that he gained certainty.
'Despite his young age, he used the Wind’s Scar. His output was stable too. That's definitely not the skill an ordinary rcenary could display.'
That must have been why.
Despite the wary gaze, he kept initiating conversation.
"Where are you from?"
"...I was born and raised in the north."
"The kingdom's north, you an? I've heard that's a harsh place. So there was a reason you grew up so hardy."
"..."
However, since the other party showed such a defensive attitude, he had no choice but to bring up a topic 'that couldn't be ignored'.
"You handle the Wind’s Scar. How old are you?"
"I'll be twenty soon."
"...Twenty? Twenty years old?"
"Yes."
"Did you receive sword instruction from a young age?"
"I was lucky."
"Ha!"
A swordsman couldn't possibly refuse a topic related to swords. Indeed, even while showing discomfort, Calix faithfully provided answers.
It was ti to thrust in the decisive proposal.
"How about it? Would you like to learn a thing or two?"
"..."
This silence lasted quite a while.
"I must respectfully decline. The timing isn't good."
However, at the end ca a polite refusal. The rcenaries were scattered throughout the village conducting search operations. Just staying by the client's side was already receiving special treatnt.
At this, a mischievous energy flickered in Adrian's blue eyes.
"But you know it too, don't you? This place is safe. Of course, you wouldn't believe just a few words from . 'The feeling is good', you said. Who would lower their guard based on just those words?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why, are you going to deny it now? Then let's recall the mont the assassins attacked. You were already awake. Despite how I look, I'm a supre swordsman. In terms of 'senses', I'm second to none. So what on earth is this about? Your eyes were glittering brightly in the darkness!"
"..."
"...Ahem, I'll correct that to 'sparkling'. Sailors have rather rough mouths, you know. Please understand."
Another wordplay.
Calix's brow furrowed slightly. However, the reason for the uncomfortable feeling was that he had pinpointed the truth. Indeed, no colors were reflected anywhere in the village.
'There are no danger factors.'
It was quite a sharp observation.
"There's nothing to understand. It's fine. But that night's events were coincidental. Lady Ella woke up first. There seems to have been a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding. Then was it also coincidental that you figured out the identity of my Neural Accelerator?"
"That's..."
Did 'would you like to learn a thing or two' an a war of words?
As Adrian's tongue wriggled fiercely, Calix's words trailed off uncharacteristically.
"Ah, I suppose you could know. It could be coincidental. It's a widely known fact that the Mage Yelayen created Latia's Neural Accelerator. However, the fact that I, Adrian Deconti, possess it is top secret. Can you explain this?"
"..."
"Hehe, seems I won this ti."
Having been properly caught off guard, there was nothing to say. While Calix regretted carelessly ntioning his Neural Accelerator, he simultaneously gained a small realization.
The reason for seemingly excessively keeping Adrian in check.
It was because the two were alike. They knew how to handle their own secrets and, conversely, how to extract information from others. Like facing a mirror, Adrian already possessed the experience that Calix had acquired either innately or through learning.
"But don't misunderstand. I'm not interrogating you. It's rather the opposite."
"Is that so."
"Sure, of course. I keep pestering you, don't I? If those folks from Latia saw this, they'd be shocked."
"..."
"Anyway, let's return to the main point. When I said let's have a round, I didn't an sparring. Sotis sharing perspectives on swordsmanship rather than breaking a sweat is..."
However, in reality, the real antagonist was soone else.
***
Adrian Deconti sat mounted on his donkey, waving both hands.
He spouted passionate sword discourse from his mouth. Nine out of ten words were spent praising Calix's skills, but the remaining one contained the essence.
"Properly wielding the Wind’s Scar is excellent. But you don't necessarily need to shoot it out as one mass. This is quite a simple principle... What do you think about the mystery of softness? Have you reached it?"
"Yes. I don't know if I've reached it, but I understand its importance."
"Right, you have reached it after all. Then it becos easier to explain."
The mystery of softness sounded both familiar and unfamiliar.
For Calix, softness was a ans to reach the realm called 'Wind's Scar’. A thod to properly apply force. However, Adrian said that as one climbs higher, its importance becos even more pronounced.
"First, start by dividing the Wind’s Scar into two branches. It doesn't require trendous training either. You just need to understand the structure of the sword and change the perception of the one wielding it. There's no need to cut twice. Do you understand what I an?"
"...Do you an to twist the cross-section of the blade to create variation?"
"Exactly. Applying force isn't what's important. Even more so with the Wind’s Scar. Since it's compressed mana spreading out, dividing it finely doesn't weaken its power. But if that attack didn't work? That ans you t a formidable opponent who was difficult to handle in the first place. At least, that's my thinking."
Calix carefully mulled over the other party's words. Honestly speaking, it was such a pleasant shock that his impression of Adrian Deconti changed.
If he could divide and shoot the Wind’s Scar... Much more flexible combat might be possible. As expected of a supre knight, the words he casually tossed out were full of things to learn.
Right at that mont, Gregor's voice pierced down sharply.
"Cook comrade, snap out of it! Listening and practicing are different. If you were to choose the most frightening delusion in the world, it would surely be the words 'I understand'!"
"Hmm? Old man, your na was... Gregor, correct?"
"Island folk must not have good mory! The sea wind is fierce indeed!"
"..."
The teaching itself wasn't wrong. The veteran rcenaries were also intermittently teaching the recruits 'how to deal with assassins riding wolves'.
Nevertheless, the veteran rcenary's voice had an edge to it.
"To shake a swordsman's foundation during a commission, what reckless behavior! Cook, comrade, you rember this, too. Improving skills is good, but only those who clearly know their own abilities survive on the battlefield!"
There was no longer any respect for royalty in the old man's tone. Calix had only properly begun handling the Wind’s Scar a few months ago. To the shrewd rcenary's eyes, it looked like pushing the cook comrade to his death.
At this, Adrian imdiately rebutted. Truly annoyingly, his face clearly showed a pleased expression.
"That differs from my thinking. Swordsn are completed in actual combat. They grow in crises of death. When the nape of your neck feels cold and cold sweat forms bead by bead—that's when you surpass your limits."
"That's how everyone dies. Just because you've been lucky so far doesn't an luck will follow in the future. You know nothing of one thing and nothing of two!"
"...?"
He must have expected active discussion about swordsmanship, but for a mont, he was rendered speechless by Gregor-style conversation.
Soon, sincere advice flew toward Calix.
"Cook comrade, you're growing rapidly. You have talent. So engrave the advice of that dog-bone-like island prince, but keep your center firmly grounded. There's no need to rush. You're already far ahead."
Which side's words to listen to was truly clear.
"Yes, Gregor. I'll keep it in mind."
He would engrave Adrian's advice but not depend on it. As always, Gregor's words were correct.
***
The Mountain Rabbits hurried toward the Storm Forest. Even without Royce giving separate orders, the veteran rcenaries showed extrely heightened alertness.
Maximum alert status.
And for good reason—one of the east's largest villages had beco ruins.
The surrounding scenery also gave off a suspicious atmosphere. What they thought were boulders from afar turned out to be ground that had twisted and risen as they got closer. Unnatural formations were spread everywhere for anyone to see. Not only that, but though not even a strand of wind blew, tree branches trembled finely—tss-tss-tss.
Awoooo~!
To make matters worse, from the rear, the sound of wolves howling gradually drew closer. The distance was a problem, but so was the intensity of the howling. A feeling of deaf eardrums. It seed their numbers had actually increased after the battle.
"The Storm Forest is in sight. Everyone, hang in there! We'll arrive tomorrow!"
"Even arriving like this is a problem. Of all things, our enemies are ones that make physical attacks."
"That's why we should avoid direct combat as much as possible."
The Mountain Rabbits moved toward the Storm Forest. There was no alternative. They had to reach the forest's boundary as quickly as possible and find the timing to shake off the enemy.
Fortunately, the atmosphere at the back of the group wasn't too bad.
"How dare you insult the Silver Shield Corps! I've held a sword for 54 years!"
"No, old man. I just said you should wash your shield, when did I insult the Silver Shield Corps? But how old are you to have held a sword for 54 years?"
"It's been 54 years since I was separated from my mother!"
"...You held a sword as soon as you were born?"
Adrian looked at Gregor with a small laugh. He had already noticed that the old man had lost his mory, but he hadn't known he was such an entertaining existence.
It was because Calix was always stuck by his side, leaving no chance for conversation. Now, thanks to him being out on reconnaissance with Hadiya, an opportunity had presented itself.
"Don't be like that, please make so concessions. Since we've t like this, it's fate—wouldn't it be aningful to discuss swordsmanship with each other? That friend could shoot out up to three branches in no ti..."
"Then who will handle my als?"
"...Pardon?"
"Who will take care of my als?"
He tried probing once more but to no avail. The bond between Calix and Gregor was so solid that no proposal could budge them.
"No, do you dislike it that much? You must truly cherish him."
"That's what comrades are! But before that, I hate gimmicks!"
"Gimmicks, you say. Not just anyone can learn this. Even if you offer a thousand gold, it's aningless without talent."
"Does your island nation also have fools who pay money to crumble their foundations? I'll live long and see many things!"
"Old man, just listen one more ti. Swordsmanship is about the distribution of power. The Wind’s Scar, Falling Flower, and Fearful Fla aren't much different. I'm suggesting we experience this in advance. No more, no less—just up to three branches—"
"Do you also urinate in three separate streams? Why are you being so clingy?"
"..."
"Seeing you have nothing to say, surely not..."
"No!"
The Prince of Latia sank gloriously. Even as the heavy atmosphere pressed down on their shoulders, several rcenaries reacted by slightly raising the corners of their mouths.
However, that was brief. During the two days of forced march, amid rough breathing and only the sll of sweat, the entrance to the Storm Forest ca into view.
Thud.
Then suddenly, at the Captain's gesture, everyone's steps halted. From within the forest where massive trees stretched their branches in all directions, making it dim even at midday, a single silhouette appeared.
Shhhhk.
Led by the veteran rcenaries, the sound of weapons being drawn rang out instantly. Friend or foe? If assassins popped out from the front, there would be no escape route.
At that mont, along with the sound of hooves, one donkey pulled to the very front.
"Stop, sheathe your swords."
"...Lord Adrian?"
"It's soone I know."
As if he had made an appointnt, the rcenaries looked at the uninvited guest with half-believing, half-doubting expressions. The killing intent decreased, but they didn't put away their swords.
And soon, a single horse and the person mounted on it revealed themselves under the sun. They were utterly exhausted from whatever had happened and in such an exhausted state they couldn't open their mouth.
"Raven!"
Soon, as Adrian shouted his na, he flinched in surprise and then fumblingly tried to pull the reins. Reflexively trying to flee.
It seed he would need to call his full na to bring him to his senses.
"Raven Saitz! We're allies!"
"..."
"It's , Adrian Deconti! Do you rember my face?"
For the Mountain Rabbits, he wasn't a welco presence even as empty words.
Raven Saitz.
A mber of the investigation team dispatched from the Astria Kingdom and the na borne by the first young master of the House of Duke Saitz.
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