Chapter 198
Chapter 198
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 198
Chapter Title: To the North (4)
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Traveling with the Karabel Merchant Group turned out to be a better decision than expected. Over the past two years, the group had grown tremendously, providing the mercenaries with bedding and meals better than those at most inns.
All the way to Rundalian. Since the roads connected from the capital were secure, the days passed so comfortably it felt like a vacation.
It was the afternoon of the eighth day since the journey began. Even though summer was in full swing, the air was starting to feel chilly. Ronan frowned at the sight of the meat skewers roasting over the campfire.
"Hey, what kind of meat is cut this big? Do I look like a lion to you?"
"As long as it tastes good, who cares? And it's not cut—it's hand-torn and molded."
"Always so damn strong..."
Ronan shook his head. The fist-sized meat balls seemed more suited for beastkin like Baren or Jaifa than humans.
Whenever Marya was on cooking duty, this was the kind of dish that always came out. No one else in the group could handle muscular wild boar meat like clay with their bare hands except her. Marya picked up a skewer and held it out to Ronan.
"Shut up and open your mouth. Ahh~"
"Jeez."
Ronan grumbled but eventually opened his mouth and bit into the meat. It was physically impossible to fit the whole thing in one bite, so he had to nibble at it like an apple. After chewing quietly for a moment, he nodded.
"...It's good."
"Hehe, right?"
It was surprisingly tender, and the seasoning was perfect. Marya grinned and patted Ronan's shoulder. Their behavior was so natural it almost seemed like they were already dating. Adeshan, who had been watching quietly, bit her lower lip.
"Ugh..."
Over the past eight days, Adeshan had come to deeply understand the strategic advantage of Marya's childhood friend status that Erina had explained. Their emotional distance was too close—sometimes suspiciously so. Marya, catching Adeshan's eye, spoke up.
"Oh, right. You should eat too, sis."
"N-No, I'm fine. I'm not really hungry right now."
Adeshan waved her hands dismissively. Her stomach was churning, killing her appetite. At that moment, Ronan pulled a skewer from in front of him and offered it to her.
"Come on, try it. It's sneakily delicious."
"R-Ronan?"
Adeshan's eyes widened. The apple-sized chunk of meat hovered right in front of her. The gesture was obvious.
"W-Well... just one bite."
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a bite. Ronan held the stick until she pulled away. Surprised by how good it tasted, Adeshan covered her mouth in delight. Seeing her childlike reaction, Ronan chuckled.
"Good, right?"
"Yeah. It's delicious."
Adeshan beamed. The accumulated pain of the past nine days seemed to melt away. These occasional moments kept her from suffering a nervous breakdown. Then she noticed the shine on Ronan's lips.
"Oh, you've got grease. Hold still."
"Huh."
Adeshan suddenly leaned in and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. Ronan froze as her face came close. Her eyes, shadowed by thick lashes, were a beautiful smoky gray.
'Damn. Why am I like this?'
Feeling strangely flustered, Ronan averted his gaze. It was a recent symptom. Adeshan only pulled back after meticulously cleaning off the grease, unaware that this caring act was as bold as feeding him directly—something she'd grown accustomed to.
Marya, watching the two alternate between each other, wore a knowing smile.
"Oh ho..."
In any case, the journey continued. As the wagon wheels rolled north, the surrounding scenery grew increasingly barren. Ronan and Adeshan sat facing each other, taking in the slow-moving landscape outside. Ronan pointed to the distant snow-capped mountains.
"Once we cross those, it's the Tukan Plateau. It's very, very close to the homeland of those damn wild werewolves. They tear apart humans and beasts alike, so be careful."
It was also where the Karabel Merchant Group's destination, Rundalian, was located. Adeshan tilted her head.
"Yeah... Thanks. But how do you know that?"
"I rolled around there for nearly a year once. On orders from someone who looked just like you, Senior."
"...Huh?"
"Kidding."
Ronan chuckled, reminiscing about his past life. It was the first place he'd gone on Adeshan's orders when she was a colonel, and where he'd first met Marya, then Countess Armalen. The Tukan Plateau.
The mission had been mine development and imperial expansion—looking back, a truly shitty experience. He'd coated himself in werewolf blood for camouflage but had no water to wash it off, rolling in the snow instead. Many of his penal legion comrades had died there.
'Hope we pass through smoothly this time.'
He just hoped it wouldn't be as brutal as before. Since this was far in the past, those furballs' forces probably weren't as strong as they once were.
Three days later, at night, the Karabel Merchant Group crossed Asthan, the gateway to winter. The land, still blanketed in unmelted snow, welcomed them. The wolves' howls under the rising moon confirmed they were heading the right way.
The sun had set. The cloudy night sky hid stars and moon alike. With the lead wagon's bell tolling, the caravan halted. Duon's booming voice rang out.
"We'll camp here tonight!"
Snow-covered plains stretched into the distance. Far off, Rundalian's lights twinkled like stars on earth. It was five days since leaving Asthan—the Tukan Plateau.
The drivers yanked the reins as if they'd been waiting for the word. The twelve wagons formed a circular formation for camp. Once stopped, merchants and mercenaries stretched and climbed down.
"Yawn... We arriving tomorrow?"
"As long as no ice dragon shows up and freezes the whole caravan. Here's hoping it stays this smooth."
"Damn, Rundalian's gotta have beer at least, right? Even furballs drink."
Fatigue etched their faces. Escort duty was grueling, even with little to do and good welfare. They took rotating night watches, and enemies were likely non-human.
"Hup."
Ronan, who had been scanning the perimeter from the wagon roof, leaped down. He inhaled deeply, cold wind laced with snowflakes filling his lungs. Turning to Adeshan, he said,
"Tomorrow's the day."
"Yeah... You did great."
Deep eye bags shadowed their faces. No one knew better than they how threatening beastkin hostile to humans could be.
The biggest incident in five days was a bald mercenary mistaken for a rock by a poison-eyed eagle, which dropped a rabbit on his head. Still, Ronan and Adeshan never let their guard down. Marya wiped snow from her eyes and hugged them both.
"Glad I brought you two. Thank you so much."
"Let go. Can't breathe."
"Haha... We're the ones who owe you."
Despite their resistance, Marya held on. She hadn't expected such dedication. With a slightly teary voice, she continued,
"I'll repay this favor. Promise from the next Karabel leader. Yeah, I'll cover all the forge costs this time."
"What favor? We both benefited."
"Shut up and take it."
Marya squeezed her right arm slightly. Ronan choked. By midday tomorrow, the caravan would reach Rundalian—their paths would diverge. Marya said,
"You two sleep. I'll take first and last watch on our wagon tonight."
"No need, Marya. Wake me anytime."
"Let her if she insists. Time for me to slack off too."
Ronan chuckled and headed inside. Adeshan followed hesitantly. Reflecting, they hadn't slept properly since leaving home.
They sat facing each other, leaning against the walls. As soon as their butts hit the floor, exhaustion hit. Their eyes met, and they smiled.
"Good work, Senior."
"Ronan... you too."
Adeshan nodded off, unable to fight sleep. Her half-lidded eyes were oddly cute. No, cute? Must be my fatigue. Ronan brushed back his bangs and spoke.
"Tomorrow we head to Heiran. You okay? Won't be this comfy."
"Of course... I knew that from the start..."
"Good. Let's do well together."
"Hehe... Yeah. I'm enjoying now, but that way's more..."
Unable to finish, Adeshan slumped. Soon, her snoring filled the wagon. Ronan's heavy eyelids finally closed.
"......"
Silence fell. Without moonlight, the wagon interior was pitch black. Only wind howling beyond the wooden walls.
In fragmented dreams, Ronan saw his father—face shrouded in shadow—and Adeshan wiping his mouth.
He punched his father's face; his reaction to Adeshan was forgotten. Time flowed like sand. Suddenly waking, Ronan spoke.
"Senior."
"Yeah. Forty-three."
Adeshan was already awake, answering without hesitation. Ronan shook his head in dismay at the precise number.
"Damn... That's a lot."
"What? You weren't asleep?"
Marya poked her head in, hearing voices. Unlike them, she sensed nothing. Ronan silently gripped his sword hilt.
"Ambush. Skilled ones too. Hiding presence like this isn't easy. A mage maybe."
"...What?"
Marya's face hardened. Suddenly, Ronan thrust his sword into the wagon ceiling. Thud! The blade pierced wood easily, followed by a tearing scream.
"Graaarrgh!"
Not human. He yanked out Lamancha, dripping crimson. Dark blood poured through the hole. Amid the bloodbath without warning, Marya stumbled back.
"W-What the hell...!"
"Ambush! Everyone up!!"
Ignoring her question, Ronan shouted. The caravan soon buzzed with activity.
Bam! He kicked open the door and leaped to the roof. A leather-clad werewolf clutched its chest, writhing. Still alive, gurgling. It glared at Ronan with bloodshot eyes.
"Grrr... Human...!"
"Tch, shit."
Things had gone too smoothly. Ronan wordlessly drew his sword. Slash! A clean arc severed the head. It rolled off the wagon. Spinning his blade, he scanned—no other wolves.
'Scout, huh. Even the fastest...'
Incredible stealth. Soon, from the plateau's west, he spotted what he sought: dozens of glowing eyes in the dark. About forty, as Adeshan said. Marya climbed up behind, gasping.
"W-What the hell are those?"
"Bandits."
The forty pairs of eyes dragged long tails as they charged. Ding! Ding! Ding! Late bells rang. Mercenaries stumbled out in panic.
Click. Adeshan's crossbow loaded below. Ronan gripped his hilt, staring into the dark.
Whoosh! Vivid scarlet enveloped the blade. In the lightless plain, Lamancha's glow shone like a beacon. As it illuminated, beastkin in bone-and-hide armor emerged.
"Raaargh!"
"Graaawr!"
Exposed to light, they snarled like vampires. Mostly werewolves, with a few werefoxes and werebears. Tribal markings unknown from his past life. Ronan said,
"Been a while."
"Grrr!"
Their eyes fixed on him. Fangs gleamed menacingly. They could speak but chose not to— no room for talk. Curling one lip, he murmured low.
"Perfect. Gotta feed the blade before sharpening it."
"Grrraaaargh-!!"
A roar thick with killing intent echoed under the night sky. Forty beasts charged like a tidal wave. Ronan calmly gauged the distance and drew his sword.