What made this the obvious choice was what was found on the road, hidden behind one of the desolated carriages on the road: a few n dressed in chainmail were lying on the paved road–dead. They were mangled and eviscerated by inhuman ans; their innards strewn out.
“This is…!” Emilio covered his mouth in shock and disgust.
Vandread didn’t bat an eye, only kneeling down to check the lion sigil that was on the guards’ backs, “These are the city guard for Larundog. We can cross out the idea of an illness or other n doing this; injuries like this are the result of sothing not human.”
It was sothing different than what he was prepared for; the threat that lood seed inhuman beyond the depraved criminals he’d faced or the savage warriors. This was sothing that sat on a new boundary.
“Should we go around?…If it’s sothing dangerous–” Emilio asked.
“Going around Larundog now would be incredibly difficult. The city was built to act almost as a pre-border to Vasmoria. That ans it was made so that looping around it would prove to be unfeasible,” Vandread explained, “We’d have to climb one of these mountains, which could take weeks, especially now that we’re on our feet. Beyond that, our supplies won’t last. I can survive without food, but you won’t.”
“–” Emilio looked down.
“That being said, it’s your choice,” Vandread looked back at him.
“What?”
It was a surprising developnt for sure: the pragmatic man who seed devoid of emotion leaving a life-staking choice to him.
“I’d say your chances of surviving a detour could be just as low as entering the city. It’s a complete gamble though; perhaps all of my guesses were wrong. Maybe it’s fine and dandy in there, or maybe, sothing truly lethal is lurking in there,” Vandread said, “I can’t decide. It’s your life, so I’ll leave this one up to you. What’ll it be, Emilio?”
A choice like this felt too heavy; it was a burden clamping down on his lungs as when he parted his lips, he found it difficult to sound out any answer. It was on him; a choice that could lead to life-or-death. Perhaps either way, he’d live, or perhaps either way, he’d die..
The idea of confronting an entity that could cause such death and destruction was frightening, but when he thought about it, he’d faced such things before.
Maybe it’s on a completely different magnitude, but…I’ve grown, Emilio thought, I’m stronger now. Vandread is here, too.
“…Let’s go into Larundog,” he finally answered quietly, looking up at the tall man.
Vandread looked down at him, “Are you positive? A massacre-level threat is sothing on the level of the Hunting Party. Though if it truly has taken over the city–it’s probably closer to a cataclysm.”
He nodded slowly, “I think this way…we have a better shot. Even if sothing is in there, we don’t have to confront it.”
“True. That was my plan, anyway,” Vandread looked at him, “Though before we do anything, you need to sit down and eat sothing.”
“Huh?’ He said in confusion.
It was uncommon for Vandread to act with care, but it was more so the man’s cautious and ever-dutiful nature that he aided Emilio; guiding him to sit down against a tree as he retrieved a pastry from their supplies.
What was given to him was a circular, yellow-powdered pastry that looked surprisingly appetizing for sothing Vandread kept.
“This is Laja bread,” Vandread told him, “I always keep a bit of it on . It’s dense and packed with energy. I can tell you’re running low on mana, so that’ll help you.”
“Thanks…” He accepted it.
It was soft and fluffy, like biting into a powdery cloud; of course, it was as sweet and tart as it looked, though there was a bitter aftertaste.
As he ate the rejuvenating pastry, Vandread stayed close, keeping an eye out and inspecting the aftermath of whatever swept through the road to the gates.
A half hour passed of Emilio allowing his body to recharge with the mystical nutrients of the pastry, washing it down with spring water while Vandread paced back and forth carefully.
“As I thought,” Vandread said, “Nobody’s coming in or out.”
As he started to get up, he noticed sothing hovering in the air, closing in as it flapped its wings: a black-feathered bird that made a gurgled croak.
A raven…? He thought.
Vandread looked up at the approaching creature, which lowered itself, hovering in front of him as it presented a stamped, rolled-up paper to him. The man accepted it without a word before the raven took off, unraveling the paper and reading the docunt.
To Emilio, he felt completely left out of the loop as if this was so sort of normal occurrence.
“…Urr, what was that all about? Did that bird just give you a letter?” He asked.
Vandread exhaled slowly, “It’s a ssenger raven. They’re sent out from city guilds under duress, drawn to the nearest adventurer who bears an insignia.”
It was a perplexing concept, but in a world of magic and monsters, he felt it to be an exercise in futility to question the logistics of it all.
“Oh…That’s sothing…I’ve never heard of that before,” he said, “You’re not really in the position for an impromptu quest, are you?”
“In this case, I am,” Vandread looked at him, rolling the letter up again.
Leaves danced down from the trees as the sparse sunlight that seeped through the ceiling of leaves dimd further on the desolate road.
“How?”
“This is an S-rank ergency quest–’Eliminate the threat within Larundog’,” Vandread told him.
This surprised him, but there was no falsehood lacing Vandread’s words, but the confirmation from the quest, officializing the threat, made it all the more real.
“…An S-rank quest? So sothing dangerous really is past those gates,” he said, looking towards the ominous entrance to the city.
“It’s worse than it sounds,” Vandread corrected him.
“How can it be any worse than it sounds? It’s already looking bleak…”
Vandread tucked the docunt away under his coat, “The quest specified that civilians shouldn’t be of concern. Also, the raven didn’t co from Larundog itself.”
“Huh? It didn’t? But, then wait–”
“That’s right,” Vandread finished for him, “It ca from the Guild Foundation itself. I’m guessing an adventurer fled and inford them of whatever is in there right now. This ans that whatever is in there has to be killed at any cost; we should consider Larundog lost.”
Such bleak news was anything but helpful to his spirit, but it did temper his expectations; Emilio knew what was at stake now and what sort of caution would be necessary. The thought of the enigmatic entity existing in those walls, simply one-hundred ters away, made his hands shake.
It was as if tangible fear itself was vibrating his palms as he looked down at them, gripping them to try and control his quivering.
“A change of plans,” Vandread suddenly said, drawing a knife.
“What? Wh-what’re you talking about?”
Vandread looked at him with his emotionless, platinum eyes, “It’s more dangerous than I thought. I’ll go in alone. If I don’t return in three hours, I’ll sohow have been killed or ensnared by it. At that point, find your way back to the Verma. They’ll help you.”
As the man tasked as his escort said such, he began to walk away, but not before being stopped as Emilio picked himself up and rushed over, getting in front of him to block his way.
“–” Vandread looked at him silently.
The young man stared back at him with a resolved gaze; though his erald eyes shook slightly, the fear was mostly concealed.
Finally, Vandread let out a sigh, “…I knew you wouldn’t accept that. It was worth a shot anyway.”
“You bet I’m not just going to sit around!” Emilio replied.
Though it seed like the strict man was going to accept his rejection of the plan, such was not the way of Vandread.
“I wasn’t asking,” Vandread sternly told him.
It was a sudden shift that he wasn’t expecting, but before he could react, Vandread’s fist already slamd itself into his stomach with a harsh force behind it.
“Pyuh…!” He spit out the air from his lungs.
There was nothing held back in that blow; it made him keel over as his unrested body burned up at the core from the scolding pain.
“–” He couldn’t speak as he had to focus on regaining his breath.
Vandread moved past him, “Stay put. If the sun sets before I’m back, move in the opposite direction to the city–return to the Verma if you can.”
There was nothing he could say as he simply held his stomach, sitting there on the ground as Vandread’s footsteps beca a distant rhythm. Perhaps he could stand up and insist on following the man further, but he received the ssage: this was Vandread’s decision.
…I’m still just a weak kid, aren’t I? He thought, after what I’ve done…I still can’t be relied on?
It was a spiteful predicant, but it lasted only as long as the pain in his gut did; after a few minutes, he picked himself up, sitting properly as he breathed out.
I understand what he’s doing, he thought, he was given responsibility over by my parents. At the very least, he wants to keep to that. Still…I’m not a helpless child.
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