Into the Fog (4)
I'd already burned through about half my mana.
Not just from rescuing Ragi, but because I'd been using my ability in quick bursts—less than a second each time—every moment something felt off, keeping watch like a hawk.
That's why my instincts are sharper than most people's, even if it costs me a little time every time.
It hadn't even been half a day yet, but the mana drain was higher than I'd expected. Higher than when I'd wandered the Three-Colored Forest alone, even.
At this rate, I might have to dip into my emergency reserves.
Still, seeing a griffon up close for the first time—corpse or not—was something else. I'd only heard about them before.
At a glance, it's a lion with an eagle's head and wings. But look closer, and you see just how deadly a monster it really is.
Those front claws catch your eye first. Like the massive claw crane at a scrapyard.
From the air, it could snatch a person—or even a horse—whole.
The wings are huge enough to rip off and make a tent from.
Damn, it's cool and fascinating, all the same.
If I had a smartphone, I'd be dying to snap a selfie right in front of it.
Wonder if griffon meat tastes good grilled?
If I were traveling solo in peace, I'd give it a shot. But we're the advance team for dragon subjugation, so no dice.
"Man, what a waste."
"I get it, Captain. If we weren't on advance duty, I'd have hacked off one of those front paws myself. Perfect bragging rights for a lifetime of drinks. Ahem."
Parlen's regret was a bit different from mine, but it clearly bugged him too.
"Ugh, this thing's a walking trophy haul. That beak alone's gotta be pricey. Screw it! Let's at least grab some feathers from the mane!"
Before I knew it, Ragi was plucking intact feathers that hadn't burned in the lightning.
Like looting in an RPG, snagging decent trophies boosts morale on the road.
To celebrate the small win and catch our breath, we decided to rest for about an hour.
Hunting griffons isn't an everyday thing, so I told them to take their time grabbing what spoils they could—as long as it didn't weigh us down too much for travel. No overloading.
I poked and prodded the dead beast's hide, flipping parts to check weak spots and danger zones.
After dismantling a few basilisks, you start spotting patterns.
For me, just pinpointing the heart helps a ton. Freeze time, stab right there—done.
After scolding Ragi for trying to load up way too much, we left the forest and mounted up as soon as we hit open ground.
With the aerial threat gone, riding was safe again.
Four hours later, we reached the riverbank—our destination.
We forded upstream to shallower waters right away. Once across, even though the sun hadn't set, we started setting up camp.
"Check the map, Captain. From here on, it'll be tough finding water for about two or three days. Better stock up now, water the horses, and head out at first light tomorrow."
Parlen the veteran knew best. In basic training, we'd push with forced marches, but this was real combat.
Not just traveling—we'd likely fight monsters along the way, so peak condition was non-negotiable.
So, we crashed hard.
"If we're camping anyway, we should've hung out longer by the griffon corpse!"
I ignored Ragi's gripe.
As camp got underway, everyone handled their tasks. I was gathering firewood nearby for the fire.
Chiria, on watch with her spear and great bow, sidled up to me stealthily and whispered even softer than usual.
"Captain... can I wash up later?"
"Sure, but... you mean your whole body, not just your face?"
Chiria nodded, tiny and shy.
Like some game's H-event? A clean river shows up, and suddenly it's bath time.
Hmm. Come to think of it, she'd bathed at the inn before we left the castle too. Her hair was wet at bedtime, messy in the morning.
Classic spoiled young lady from a wealthy house—bathed daily, squeaky clean.
No, no. Not the time to admire that.
Time to school Chiria on reality.
"Listen up, Chiria. Unless it's a special case, forget about stripping down for a bath outdoors or in dungeons. It's a hassle and dangerous. Brace for a month without washing. Got it?"
"But... sweat... it... smells weird."
"You'll get used to it. Everyone does. Now, lower your head."
Chiria ducked, and I deliberately sniffed loud—her hair, the exposed skin on her neck.
"Eek!?"
She yelped, hugging herself and jumping back.
Right on cue. I chuckled, watching her.
"See? Even unwashed, you smell good—hair and all. No need to worry."
"...R-Really?"
"If it was a lie, I wouldn't get this close."
Not a lie. Since coming to this world, no woman's scent ever repulsed me.
Not Ferio after sweating buckets in training, not Agnes after holing up like a shut-in writing manifestos, not Ashu after two weeks in a dungeon.
"O-Okay... I'll tough it out. If Chiria smells weird... tell me. Secretly... just Chiria..."
She whispered the end so faintly I had to strain. Of course I'd tell her.
Chiria trembled, clutching her spear with both hands, mortified. Prime age for that sensitivity.
"Whoa, Captain's a total perv like Parlen. Gross. What're you two sneaking around for?"
"Gah!?"
Ragi's entrance actually startled me.
No footsteps, no presence. Why isn't she in the rogue guild?
"Sniffing the young girl in your squad, grinning like an idiot. Classic creepy boss move."
"Hmm. Maybe you're right. Sorry, Chiria."
"Wait, you're just owning it? Captain's so weird. Should I jot this in a notebook like that elf gramps?"
In my home world, what I did to Chiria could've been #MeToo fodder.
I'd treated her too casually, like Ashu or Agnes. Time for reflection.
Hmm... but this world's sensibilities differ. Medieval class society—nobles or bosses roughing up underlings is normalized.
Tricky. The longer I think, the harder it is to adjust.
Even after years abroad, I get why elders miss home as they age.
"Um, Chiria's... fine! Captain's nice to Chiria. Kind!"
Misreading my brooding as deep remorse, Chiria defended me desperately. Such a sweetheart.
"And you, Chiria—tone it down. Talking baths around all these guys? Strong or not, don't drop your guard. It happens in a flash. Didn't your family teach you that? Highborns strike anytime—always be ready to run or stab."
"Ragi's right. Some lying girl once kissed me out of nowhere—total mess. Should've stabbed her."
I shot Ragi a look; she shrugged innocently.
Chiria flushed, raising her voice—just enough to hear without straining.
"Ch-Chiria wouldn't... pounce on Captain carelessly!"
"......"
Why'd she put herself in the pouncer role?
Ragi's advice wasn't about that.
Is this world's ethics off, or am I?
"Oh? Chiria's into that kinda thing? Whoa, aggressive under that innocent act. We need to talk, sis."
"Wh-What!?"
"Timing's key for jumping a guy on an adventure. We're heading to the goal now—do it then, and the whole dungeon crawl feels awkward."
"I-I didn't know..."
"Grew up sheltered, huh? Aim for the return trip. Good vibes? Head home together. Awkward? Split easy."
"Chiria doesn't wanna split..."
"That's why you're a kid! Once you try..."
"...Uh. Uwgh."
Wait, how'd the convo flow there?
What thought process leads there?
And what was that jab at me earlier?
Ragi prioritizes fun over logic, apparently.
Listening in, these two seem like total carnivores by my world's standards.
Why chat this around me, though?
Meant for my ears? Indirect threat?
Better watch my back at night.
Classes exist here, but law and order? Spotty.
Outdoors, might makes right.
Chiria hovering near me, Ragi sneaking up...
It's getting to me.
Damn, scarier by the minute.
Maybe ask Damish for Earth Embrace while I sleep?