Chapter 250: Are You Talking to Beasts Now?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 250: Are You Talking to Beasts Now?
"Thank you for taking me in."
Encrid tilted his head.
Now? Out of nowhere?
Even the phrase "saving someone because one can" felt awkward coming from her. She was a beastman who had served as a mercenary for one of the most notorious bandit groups in the kingdom. Had such a woman really risked her own neck to save a common soldier?
Did he dislike that?
No, he liked it very much.
Just because Encrid dreamed of becoming a knight didn't mean he expected everyone around him to act and think like the paragons in fairy tales.
But what of those who had the power to save others yet chose not to? What of those who turned a blind eye to the oppressed and the weak? Was it because their hearts were empty? Were they simply too accustomed to abandoning others? Or was it merely because ignoring the dying was more profitable?
In that cold calculation of profit and loss, there was no honor, no conviction, no loyalty, and no burning passion.
What can you ever hope to become by living like that?
What value was there in such a life?
Encrid was a man sprinting toward a dream. He loathed passing by the weak or ignoring injustice. Because of the heat burning deep within his chest, he could never bring himself to look away.
It was for this same reason that Rem had once beaten a noble’s son and bashed his superior’s head in. It was why Encrid didn't dislike Rem.
"You did well."
That was why he said it.
The onlookers were dumbfounded. One side suddenly offered deep gratitude, and the other offered praise. It seemed as if they were both just saying whatever they wanted, yet funnily enough, the conversation flowed perfectly. The absurdity of it was striking.
Encrid didn't know exactly what was going through Dunchabel’s mind, but he liked the change in her. Regardless of the details, she had acted to save a weaker comrade and hadn't thrown her life away in the process. She had encountered an unexpected enemy and simply done her best. In doing so, she had saved her companion.
He was pleased because this shift in mindset made her feel less like a bandit and more like a true member of the unit. He didn't care that her thanks were so belated.
Well, she’s a bit strange, too.
Then again, he was likely the only normal person in this entire unit. Since the former bandit’s present self wasn't bad, he figured that was good enough. Encrid let it go.
What did words like "thank you" matter? She had survived, she had saved someone, and her heart had changed. That was enough.
Dunchabel interpreted Encrid’s praise in her own way. She took it to mean she had done well to save her comrade and survive. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for him to come looking for her.
Once again, she looked at Encrid. Black hair, blue eyes, and a subtle consideration that contrasted with his indifferent attitude. He was the man who had accepted her, a captain of unbelievable strength. She had survived, and she had saved her comrade. That was what his will demanded, and Dunchabel had followed it.
For the first time, she truly felt like a member of Encrid’s command. If she had stayed reluctantly before, she now felt a true sense of belonging.
"Hey, look at those eyes. You look like you're about to cry," Rem interjected. "The Captain was actually planning your funeral. He thought you were a goner."
It was the truth.
"Is that so?"
Dunchabel didn't seem to care in the slightest. Rem clicked his tongue, snorting in disbelief.
"Hah. They say the black dog does the tricks, but the white dog gets the love."
No one paid any attention to Rem’s grumbling. Ragna was busy sketching a rough map of the forest in his head—a completely useless endeavor.
Wasn't that supposed to be a shortcut?
He had thought it was a fast route, so why did they end up in such a strange place? It was because his innate sense of direction was utterly broken, but Ragna simply chalked it up to bad luck.
Audin wore a gentle smile. To him, Dunchabel’s growth seemed like the beginning of a transformation. He enjoyed watching people break through their limits.
Teresa nodded as she looked at Dunchabel. She had heard the beastman woman had a past just as complicated as her own, and she felt a quiet sense of kinship. Of course, she didn't show it outwardly.
Sachsen remained indifferent.
Is she finally becoming useful?
From the start, she was a beastman who only knew how to fight, and even that skill had been clumsy. It would have been reasonable to kick her out, but the Captain had accepted her. It was the Captain’s choice, and Sachsen simply accepted it. He had expected her to die quickly, but she had stubbornly survived. That was the extent of his thoughts.
Encrid examined Dunchabel’s face, shoulders, chest, stomach, and down to her thighs. He even pressed down on her wounded areas with his hand.
"Not here," Dunchabel said, her thoughts following the typical logic of her kind.
Just because beastmen had a strong reproductive drive didn't mean she lacked shame. There were too many eyes watching. It was inconvenient to strip down and do that here, though the location itself didn't matter much. They could just do it standing up.
"You stupid beastman. He’s trying to gauge whether he should send you back or not," the quick-witted Rem scolded from the side.
Dunchabel wasn't embarrassed. She was just disappointed.
"I’m coming with you. The wound hasn't festered," Dunchabel spoke first.
There were decent herbs in this forest. It wasn't called the Grateful Forest for nothing.
The herb Dunchabel had found was called spotted spurge, or silk grass. When its stem was crushed, a white sap oozed out that prevented inflammation. It was one of the many things she had learned during her time as a mercenary. She had already treated herself; the dried sap over her wound flaked off like white powder.
"If you feel like you’re going to die, ask Rem to carry you," Encrid said.
Dunchabel grimaced, while Rem let out a sharp laugh.
"Just try it. I’ll chop your legs off with my axe."
Of course, he wouldn't actually do it. It was just his way of joking. Encrid started walking again.
"Is this really necessary?" Sachsen asked.
He followed silently, but he questioned the need to return to that horse. If Encrid had intended to return to the territory, he wouldn't have bothered checking Dunchabel’s wounds. Guessing their destination wasn't difficult.
"It’s bothering me," Encrid replied.
There was no need for them to force themselves to follow. This particular action was nothing more than his own whim. They could have just returned to the territory and been done with it.
Why?
Encrid asked himself, but there was no answer. It was a choice driven by instinct, not reason.
"You can go ahead if you want."
"No, it’s fine."
Sachsen didn't argue further. Seeing this, Rem joked that a sneaky stray cat seemed hungry and suggested Sachsen go catch a few dead mice, but Sachsen ignored him completely.
Dunchabel didn't even need support. While not as robust as giants, beastmen possessed sturdy bodies. She didn't even limp.
"I am Teresa, the wanderer."
They hadn't even introduced themselves until now. The newly reborn half-giant suddenly stated her name. Dunchabel glanced up at the woman who towered over her and spoke.
"Do you not know my name?"
"I know it."
"Then that is enough."
It meant they both belonged to Encrid, and that was all that mattered. Teresa understood.
Thus, the group returned to where the wild horse was waiting. The beast was still there.
Snort.
The horse snorted upon seeing Encrid, seemingly pleased. If they had just gone back, would it have waited here for days?
"Were you waiting?"
Snort.
"Yeah, what’s wrong?"
Snort.
"Hmm. You want me to follow you?"
He said this as the wild horse turned around and flicked its tail.
Having watched this entire exchange, Dunchabel spoke up cautiously.
"Are you... talking to beasts now?"
For a moment, silence fell. It looked exactly like that to everyone else as well.
"Does it look like that to you, too?" Rem asked in an unusually serious tone. "Is the Captain really not going to visit a temple? I heard there’s a small shrine in Martai. Should we drag him there?"
Sachsen also frowned.
Everything else is fine, but why is he talking to a beast? Bonding and conversing are two very different things.
"Haha, it is said that there is no difference in communicating with all things under heaven," Audin chuckled, murmuring some cryptic wisdom.
Since Dunchabel had decided to trust and follow him, she chose to just accept it. In fact, she even resolved to try talking to horses herself later. Had she not decided to walk the path he walked?
"Hmm."
Since he was the great figure who had killed her and then brought her back to life, Teresa accepted everything with indifference. So what if he talked to a horse? It wasn't even worth pointing out.
"Right, you want us to go over there?"
Encrid was not a man who cared about the gaze of others. He moved based on the horse’s gestures. The group followed the wild horse as it tapped the ground with its hooves. Dozens of other wild horses standing a short distance away moved with them. Anyone watching from afar would have found it a truly bizarre sight.
As they walked, they reached a downward slope. Even flat plains had variations in elevation, but this path sloped significantly downward. It was a basin so cleverly hidden that it couldn't be seen from the edge of the forest. It was a sunken terrain with no surrounding mountains—a plain basin. It looked as if a giant god had scooped out this patch of earth with his bare hand.
And it wasn't just the terrain that was strange. Encrid spotted traces of something man-made. A gray wall, half-collapsed by the passage of time, stood before them. For some reason, grapevines were tangled all over it despite the approaching winter, and dark grapes hung heavy from the vines.
"What is this?" Rem muttered, his interest piqued.
A gentle, warm breeze blew from inside the basin. It was a warmth rarely felt in the north during this season.
Encrid plucked a few grapes and popped them into his mouth. They were sour and sweet—perfectly fine fruit. The wild horse ate a few, and the others followed suit.
Dunchabel stuffed an entire bunch into her mouth and chewed. Seeing her crunching down on the seeds, it was clear she was starving. It made sense; she had survived by hiding in the forest for three days without proper supplies.
"Eat this."
Teresa pulled a piece of jerky from her pocket. Dunchabel finished the grapes and popped the jerky into her mouth. She didn't say thank you.
"This is a suspicious place," Encrid muttered. Was it a thought to himself, or a question for the horse?
Whinny!
The wild horse let out a low cry and lowered its head, showing hostility. It wasn't directed at the group, but straight ahead. Sunlight shone down into the basin, revealing a bluish glow behind the wall. And it wasn't just glowing eyes floating in the dark.
Clack.
The sound of bone hitting bone echoed clearly.
"Skeletons?"
They were skeleton soldiers holding rusted swords and shields. Undead.
"It looks like a collapsed tomb, Brother," Audin said, scanning the surroundings.
"It seems the ground caved in, ruining the graveyard’s integrity," Sachsen added.
In the past, people sometimes placed undead inside tombs to guard them. This place looked like one of those hidden tombs commonly described in treasure hunters' journals. Beyond the long gray wall, the glowing eyes multiplied. The number of those who had rejected death was growing.
Encrid casually counted them.
One, two, three, four... seven?
It wasn't a small number, but it wasn't threatening either. Not to this group. They were the people who had just smashed through a centaur colony.
Clack! Clack!
The jaws of the skeletons rattled. Undead, especially lower-tier ones, could not speak. Only high-tier undead could project their intent through thoughts. Regardless, there was no need to converse with monsters. There was one rattling its jaw while holding a sword and shield, another with a sharp bone spear, and even four-legged skeleton dogs. There were two dogs and five soldiers.
Encrid quietly watched them and drew his sword.
Shring.
But as Encrid’s blade left its sheath, a massive figure stepped forward first.
"I shall bring down the iron hammer upon those who are wicked, corrupt, and have walked the path of regression."
To priests and clergymen who served the gods, the undead were targets that had to be purged. Audin pressed his palms together at his chest, stepped forward, and then spread his hands wide.
Whoosh!
A rusted sword swung toward Audin. He avoided it with a simple half-step. The sword sliced through empty air. From the side, a rusted spear thrust forward with a sharp whistle. To an ordinary soldier, it would have been a perilous moment, but not to Audin. He snatched the incoming spear shaft mid-air.
At the same time, he swung his fist down like a hammer, smashing the head of the skeleton that had swung the sword.
Whoosh. Thud! Crack!
After splitting the first skull in two, he gripped the bone spear of the second, lifted its owner into the air, and slammed it into the ground.
Crash!
With a thunderous roar, the skeleton’s entire frame shattered into splinters.
"You wretched things," Audin said, his eyes flashing with holy fervor.
Encrid didn't even need to step in. In an instant, Audin had wiped out all seven.
"There’s something more inside," Sachsen said, his senses sharp.
Encrid felt it, too. It was a sensation akin to the magic traps he had encountered in the past. Along with an ominous feeling, a strangely irritating smell pricked his nose.
A burning smell?
Then, another skeleton appeared. It held a halberd, and its entire body—from the weapon to its very bones—was ablaze.
Whoosh!
Even though it was more than ten paces away, a hot wind surged toward them. A scorching heat washed over the group, warming their skin. If they stayed much longer, they would be drenched in sweat.
"A burning skeleton?" Rem muttered.
It was exactly as he said. It was a feat possible only because the undead felt no pain—a monster enchanted with an unquenchable flame spell.
Whinny!
The wild horse cried out at the sight of the creature. It seemed to say that this monster was the reason they had come here.
The wild horse was the master of this land. It reflected on the threat its herd had faced when the ground here collapsed. The horse had a duty to protect its own. Therefore, it had to eliminate the threat. Regardless of its decision to leave with the humans, the horse knew what had to be done, and it had asked them for help to achieve it.