Chapter 490: Picnic
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 490: Picnic
Rem was still terrible at explaining things, but he was better than before. Hearing him, Ayul and Juol looked impressed.
"You’ve certainly picked up some eloquence somewhere. I just hope you don't use that talent to seduce other women."
"Did you attend some kind of public speaking academy on the continent?"
Encrid understood why the two were impressed, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of resistance. No matter how one looked at it, Rem was not a good speaker. Listening to his rambling, Encrid thought that if this bastard had become a bard, he would have given countless people chronic frustration.
"So, what the Path of Shadow is... there was this guy named Grime. It's the path he walked. And what is that path? It's basically Grime's life story. Alright, you with me so far?"
Of course, it didn't matter if the speaker was lacking as long as the listener was exceptional. As always, Encrid was an excellent listener. He listened intently and gave appropriate reactions.
Encouraged, Rem spoke even more enthusiastically. Sifting through the fluff and redundant rhetorical questions to extract only the core information was Encrid's specialty. And that was exactly what he did.
Apparently, there was an ancient hero of the West named Grime, and he had undertaken something akin to a pilgrimage. If a pilgrimage meant visiting religiously significant sites one after another, what Grime did would be more accurately called a "hunting trail." After all, he had handpicked and visited places inhabited only by things that deserved to die—things that had to be killed.
He carved his own path that way, traveling across the West and slaughtering every monster, demonic beast, and creature in sight. It was the life story of a hero obsessed with hunting, one who manipulated shadows with sorcery. It was also a tale from an era suspended somewhere between myth and legend.
Setting a man-eating tree monster ablaze with sorcery to kill it. Finding the weakness of a multi-tentacled monster living in a lake and stabbing it to death. The anecdote of slaying a bandit who possessed an invisibility hood, and so on. Some of these stories made little sense, being oral folklore that had been appropriately embellished over time, as old tales often were.
In connection with this, there was once a coming-of-age ritual in the West called the Path of Shadow. It was nothing grand; it simply involved retracing a portion of the path the hero had walked.
"Meaning, we're going to walk the actual Path of Shadow."
Though it was called a coming-of-age ritual, following the exact path the hero Grime had taken would be a suicide mission, not a ritual. Sending a newly turned fifteen-year-old alone onto a path teeming with monsters made no sense. Thus, the ritual usually used a watered-down itinerary and route, but what Rem was proposing now was the real Path of Shadow.
In other words, the exact route the hero had actually traveled. That didn't mean they were going to follow the entire path, though. Doing so would require years of wandering. What Rem was referring to was the final stretch of the hero Grime's journey. And from the sound of it, he wasn't doing this to honor some hero, either.
"It's just that there's a bunch of great sights clustered together."
It was a simple motive. To Encrid, it also seemed like Rem wanted to show him something.
A heavy backpack was slung over Rem's shoulders. Juol and Ayul were also carrying heavy packs.
"You should have told me to pack my things."
"What pack? We've prepared everything. We're just going on a picnic," Ayul said bluntly.
Could the Path of Shadow really be called a picnic? The Westerners listening blinked. Normally, it would sound half-insane, but for this group, a picnic was indeed an accurate description. It wasn't as if absurd monsters from the mythical era were waiting for them anymore.
And so, the journey began.
"Let's go."
"Sure."
There was nothing to agonize over. Encrid grabbed only a change of clothes and the gifts he had received before setting off.
"A month? Nice."
The beastman, who had grumbled about having to wash once every three days, welcomed the journey most of all. After all, no one could tell her to wash often now. Frok, who always kept his eyes only on Encrid, tagged along behind.
Encrid, Rem, Dunchabel, Luagarne, Ayul, and Juol. The six of them were together.
"I'd love to go with you, but I have to recover and deal with the Fortune-teller Tribe and the remaining cannibals. Don't be too disappointed that I can't join you," Geomnarae said as they were leaving.
It was a Western-style joke.
"I'm incredibly disappointed."
When Encrid replied with a deadpan, dry expression, Geomnarae chuckled. He was a guy who was fun to banter with. This was after they had finished their conversation and hastily gathered their gear.
"What about the Eldest Shaman?" Encrid asked as he trudged along.
Rem replied nonchalantly, "He's still groaning and wheezing. A month is barely enough for him to recover and prepare whatever he needs—and even that's fast. Oh, the Eldest Shaman asked me to pass along his thanks."
"It was nothing," Encrid replied, still indifferent.
Looking at Encrid, Rem couldn't help but think he was a truly fascinating human being. Both his skill and his will transcended the boundaries of the ordinary. What was extraordinariness? It meant being far superior to the average level. If anyone were to ask Rem who the most extraordinary and outstanding person he had ever seen was, the answer was already decided.
"Let's go." Rem threw an arm around Encrid's shoulders.
"Isn't that uncomfortable?"
"What, you think you're all grown up now?"
Encrid had always been taller. He only said it because it looked exhausting for the shorter man to reach up while carrying a heavy backpack. Encrid looked down, and Rem looked up.
"Let's have a spar later."
That was music to his ears.
As they walked, Juol explained that for various reasons, they would be living a collective nomadic lifestyle this year. Telling small tribes that had lost their warriors to fend for themselves was practically a death sentence. Thus, they were taking responsibility to look after them.
Though they were used to a life of scarcity, this year they might have to starve even more because that bastard Apostle of the Demon Realm Holy Land Cult from the continent had run amok. That seemed like it would be a bit of a problem.
So, before leaving, Encrid had asked a few swift-footed Westerners to deliver letters through merchants entering the region. Again, it was nothing major. One letter to the King, and one to the Border Guard. He wrote that he had come to the West for various reasons and asked them to send over any leftover bread they had.
If they actually sent bread, it would arrive completely rotten, but since both Krang and Krais were clever men, they would figure out what he meant and handle it accordingly.
The continent would soon enter the rainy season. In about a fortnight, it would be time for rain to fall on the Border Guard's side as well. A cool breeze blew, fluttering their hair and brushing against their cheeks.
Ayul walked beside him, and Encrid asked nonchalantly, "I heard Rem is coming with me."
"I know."
"Are you coming along too?"
"Why would I?"
"You're staying here?"
"Of course." Ayul, who was holding a long staff, tapped it against the ground as she continued. "I'm pregnant."
She said it in a completely casual tone. Even Encrid was momentarily speechless before asking back, "What?"
Then, all sorts of questions popped into his head, but amusingly, the very first thought was this: Setting aside the pregnancy itself, how does she already know?
"Those who wield sorcery are highly sensitive to new life forming inside them."
Apparently, that was how it was in the West, especially for shamans. In such a short amount of time, Rem had achieved yet another feat.
In the West, there was no concept of needing bed rest just because one was pregnant. They simply went about their daily business and only took more rest later when their bodies grew heavy. Ayul would undoubtedly do the same. She beamed as she spoke, flashing a bright, characteristically Western smile.
"I will work for the tribe, protect them, and raise my child. I love this land, so I have no desire to leave."
Ayul placed a hand over her stomach. No matter what happened, she would protect her child. She was a strong woman, after all. A faint glow seemed to emanate from her face. She looked exceptionally beautiful in this moment. It wasn't romantic attraction; he simply thought of her as a beautiful person.
"Are you fine without Rem?"
"I'll miss him, but it's fine. It's not like he's leaving forever. That bastard needs to do what he wants to do, too. I have no use for a man who stays by my side as a mere hollow shell, whining all day."
That certainly seemed true. Most men probably didn't even have forearms thicker than Ayul's. In terms of sheer healthy vigor, she was a beauty who could easily outshine Teresa or Dunchabel. She was also broad-minded and deeply understanding. It was no wonder Rem had fallen for her.
Rem, who had been eavesdropping for a while, chimed in. "So that's how it is. But why did you think I'd stay here?"
Encrid thought that when it came to these matters, Rem's social awareness was on par with Dunchabel's.
"A child, a wife, the West... aren't those more than enough reasons to stay?"
Encrid tried to gently reason with him, but Ayul had heard everything.
"You crazy husband, is leaving under these circumstances normal?"
Though she was letting him go willingly, her words were laced with affectionate profanity. The journey was noisy right from the start, but that wasn't a bad thing.
Juol chuckled at the sight and gestured to summon the velopters. Six people and six velopters were companions on this journey. The one Encrid was to ride was a brownish creature with flame-shaped red scales on its head. Looking at it made him think of Odd-Eye for some reason. He used to feel a certain thrill whenever he rode on Odd-Eye's back. Would there ever come a day when he would charge into battle atop him again?
Lost in these thoughts, he set off on his velopter. For the most part, there was nothing particularly difficult about setting out and traveling.
"Help me."
When a copycat monster appeared along the way, crying out for help, Juol stepped forward.
"I'll go handle it."
He chased it away with a few stones.
"If we kill it here, the scent of blood will draw other beasts."
His reason for chasing it away instead of killing it was clear. In short, they had an experienced hunter with them.
"It's a pack of ratmen. I'll be right back."
Whenever an unavoidable pack approached, Rem or someone else would step up and swiftly deal with them. Watching them rush in to split skulls with axes and crush the head of another monster right behind with a devastating kick, one almost felt sorry for the beasts.
"We should head toward the water today."
Most of the terrain was wasteland, but there were small lakes scattered here and there, and sparse grasslands could be seen near the water. Most of the Western trail consisted of land that was neither fully grassland nor fully wasteland. The velopters grazed on grass, drank water from the lakes, and ate dried fish. They ate just about anything, but they were particularly fond of fish.
Grrrr.
Seeing them affectionately rub their heads against them when fed, it was hard not to grow fond of them. Perhaps because they were cold-blooded, their scales felt pleasantly cool to the touch—though not so cold as to be startling.
Eventually, night fell, and they built a campfire. Dunchabel, driven by her beastman hunting instincts, brought back a rabbit and a mole.
"Excellent."
An impressed Juol volunteered to cook. Hunting was no easy feat in the West, yet Dunchabel had accomplished it effortlessly. As Juol began to cook, Ayul took a step back.
"She's my wife, but if she ever says she's going to cook, make sure to stop her," Rem whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible. Ayul didn't try to step in either, perhaps lacking confidence in her own culinary skills.
Juol was an even better cook than Rem. He went down to the water to drain the blood, gut the rabbit and mole, and after prepping them properly, threw them straight into a pot to boil a stew. The aroma wafting from the bubbling stew awakened a hunger they had forgotten.
The taste? It was savory and clean. The rich umami flavor, enhanced by salt and herb powder, naturally made them give a thumbs-up.
"I might not be the best in the West, but I'm quite confident in my cooking."
Apparently, Juol had been in charge of cooking back when they lived in collective settlements. Yet, because he was also good at fighting and hunting, he often ended up taking the lead like this. Juol said he would be happy spending his whole life just making food and watching others eat it.
"Then why did you come along this time?"
"How could I miss the chance to cook for the hero who saved our tribe?"
That was his reply to the question. It was a truly pleasant answer. Even after dinner, Juol took the lead in washing the dishes.
"You are all our saviors. I don't want to leave the chores to you."
He had mentioned that the journey would take about a month. It seemed he intended to handle all the chores until then. After eating so well, Encrid stood up with his sword to help digest his food, and Rem stood opposite him.
Whoosh.
The wind blew. Crumbled sandstone turned to dust, stinging their eyes. Both Encrid and Rem squinted, an instinctive reaction to protect their eyes from the grit.
"Let's have a round."
"Are you okay with getting beaten in front of your wife?"
Rem chuckled. He certainly had a way with words.
"Well, I've prepared something to make things a bit more interesting."
This was the West, and Rem was a Westerner. Although he had to enter the Sacred Ground to retrieve his own descent weapon or sorcery, workarounds existed. He had already gained new insights while fighting the Immortal Madman on the continent.
"Ayul."
He had also prepared by practicing for a few days. Ayul had been hesitant at first, but after trying it, there were no particular issues or side effects, so she was even considering researching it further. In the meantime, Rem had also taught the tribesmen how to use the Heart of Monstrous Strength.
An improved version, so to speak. He had blended his own insights with what he had seen Encrid do. Soon, it would become a technique that most Westerners could use. In any case, now was the moment to receive Ayul's sorcery.
"Bear's Blessing," Ayul spoke.
With her words, something intangible settled over Rem. Encrid saw something shimmering over the shoulders of the Rem standing before him. It was similar to what he had seen overlapping Ayul's body when she fought before. A faint radiance gleamed within Rem's gray eyes.
Encrid adjusted his grip on Aker. Soon, the axe came flying. It was a slash on par with a knight's strike. Instantly, Encrid raised Aker parallel to the ground. The axe blade crashed down upon it, and the two weapons clashed.
Clang!
A thunderous roar erupted. The recoil pushed Encrid's body backward. Encrid yielded to the force and slid back, the soles of his feet dragging long furrows into the dirt.
Still holding his follow-through pose, Rem curled his lips into a smirk and asked, "How's that?"
Needless to say, Encrid smiled back.