Chapter 686: A Slight Detour
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 686: A Slight Detour
"This is beyond childish."
It was Anne. She lifted her head, a corner of her mouth curling upward as a sharp glint flashed in her eyes.
Bathed in the fading sunlight, the alchemist wore a wicked smirk. In truth, it wasn't born of malice, but was a facade constructed to withstand the ill intent directed at her.
"Did they really think this would stop us from drinking? Seriously?"
The enemy wasn't standing before them, yet Anne spoke as if they were.
"You brainless, incompetent bastards. Did you think we’d fall for this? That we’d just back down?"
Was this the desperate struggle of a weakling harboring spite, or the roar of someone who had steeled their resolve?
Let’s call it a roar, Encrid decided.
"Now, look. Captain, when I came to the Border Guard all by myself, do you really think I relied solely on luck?"
At first, he had thought so. She had said as much herself.
But a girl who didn't even know how to swing a sword, with no group to rely on, had crossed the continent to reach the Border Guard—a place whose very name signified the edge of the world. To make it all the way to the outermost fringes of the continent... by any logical measure, her chances of survival should have been zero.
She must have had a trick up her sleeve.
That was the Anne he had come to know. Even when she visited the training ground of the Order of Madness, she never showed up empty-handed. Even while researching, she always kept reagents, drugs, or chewable medicinal balls within arm's reach.
Encrid kept his sword by his side even when sleeping. Even if it wasn't the weapon Eitri had given him, he was never without a blade.
What my sword is to me, that bag is to Anne.
Anne unclasped the bag slung across her back and reached inside. When she pulled her hand out, she held a flat, round blue pill no larger than a pinky nail.
"I am an alchemist and a healer," Anne murmured.
Her voice carried a rhythmic, measured quality, almost like a bard’s song. She dropped the pill into the canteen of contaminated water. In less than a heartbeat, a puff of blue smoke rose from the container and vanished.
Anne brought the canteen to her lips and tilted it back.
No one stopped her. What Anne was doing now was no different from Ragna's swordsmanship; it was fueled by absolute conviction. It was a strike delivered with the resolve to force a path through—to make a wrong way right through sheer will.
Overwhelmed by her presence, the group watched her throat move. Gulp, gulp. The water went down smooth.
"Phew!" Anne gasped, wiping her mouth after a long draft. "You can drink it. It was a pathetic trick."
Fair enough.
Encrid nodded and took the canteen. He took a swallow; the water tasted perfectly fine.
Anne certainly hadn't relied solely on water-purifying pills to reach the Border Guard alone. She likely had potions to mask her scent from monsters or sleeping drafts for hostile travelers.
"There are too many to list," Anne concluded.
Encrid didn't press her, nor did he ask who she was explaining herself to. He had noticed her hand trembling slightly. Could she really feel safe just because she was surrounded by knights? Facing such blatant malice, it was unlikely.
But she won't let herself be an easy target.
She was showing them that she was no pushover if they dared to try again. However, the enemy was also proving they were no ordinary lunatics.
"Everyone, stop."
They hadn't been traveling the mountain path for even two hours when a sharp, sour scent hit Encrid's nose.
"Poison mist? Looks like some kind of spell," Grida said, peering ahead.
"Yeah, I see it," Magrun added.
Ragna merely stared forward with indifference. The enemy wanted to hold their time hostage, and Ragna simply detested that.
Encrid stared at the dark green mist blocking their path. Since he had seen it, there was no need to waste time deliberating.
"Is there a detour?"
"Yes," Magrun answered immediately.
Encrid gestured to Ragna, who turned his back toward Anne.
"Get on."
"Yes."
Anne, seemingly prepared for this, climbed onto Ragna's back. Ragna tossed his greatsword to Encrid, who caught it with ease. Since the weapon was meant to be slung across the back, Ragna couldn't carry it while carrying Anne.
"Let's pick up the pace, Magrun."
"Understood."
No further words were needed. A route that should have simply crossed the hill ahead was now stretched wide to the side. Magrun took the lead, while Grida ran at a distance to the right to scout for further ambushes.
Sure enough, another trick awaited them. The enemy was choosing the most annoying tactics possible.
"I've lost my sense of direction," Grida said, coming to a halt. She stood before three spiky-leaved trees tangled together like conjoined twins.
They were still climbing, and the density of the forest had increased significantly, signaling they were deep within the mountain. Since this wasn't a path frequented by travelers, there was no clear trail, but with Ragna carrying Anne, the terrain was manageable.
Magrun had been leading the way, hacking through branches to clear a path. They had been making good progress until Grida suddenly stopped.
Encrid started to turn around to check the north, but caught himself.
This feels like being lost in the desert.
Even looking at the sky, he couldn't gauge their direction. Neither his sixth sense nor his intuition offered any help.
"It's sorcery," Encrid said.
Grida and Magrun nodded, while Ragna tilted his head in confusion.
"You lost your sense of direction? I'm perfectly fine."
Grida shook her head. "Brother, it's sorcery. It means our senses are being disrupted. I know it's hard for you to comprehend, but do try."
"What nonsense. Magrun, we just need to go north from here, right?"
"That's right," Magrun replied, though his eyes betrayed his anxiety.
And why wouldn't they? He had heard of Ragna's legendary exploits. The anecdotes of Ragna getting lost while watching the sun rise were truly awe-inspiring. How could such an idiot exist in this world? Wasn't he the man who went to meet someone, got "slightly lost," and only returned a month later?
"It's this way. North," Ragna pointed with absolute certainty.
From his back, a pale-faced Anne squeezed out a weak voice. "Please... just stay out of it when we're trying to find our way."
Sorcery could not be bypassed by alchemy, nor could it be unraveled by a knight's senses. In a way, they were thoroughly trapped.
So this is what the poison mist was aiming for.
Encrid caught a glimpse of the mastermind's logic—whether they were a mage or a shaman.
Block the path with poison mist.
Should they risk pushing through? Anne likely had detoxifying medicine. But normally, they would avoid it. The mountain was vast, with plenty of paths leading up. Furthermore, they had four knights with exceptional mobility. If they moved quickly, there was no need to risk the poison.
They anticipated we would avoid it.
If their route was altered, which way would Magrun lead them? The fastest route. If the enemy figured that out, they could bind the group's feet with a pre-prepared spell like this. Here, Encrid realized one more thing.
The one who prepared this knows the terrain.
They knew the paths between Zaun and the continent inside out. In other words, it was someone from House Zaun.
"People don't travel through this area often, do they?" Encrid asked.
"Are you seriously asking that? No one but the people of House Zaun would ever come here. I had no idea the road back home would be this treacherous."
Magrun spoke without even looking in the direction Ragna was pointing. It seemed no one had any intention of following Ragna's lead. Even though everyone had lost their sense of direction, they still didn't trust Ragna.
Only Encrid thought differently.
"How do you know that's north?"
Supporting Anne with one hand, Ragna raised his other and tapped his temple. "It's intuition."
"Lead the way."
At those words, the others stared at Encrid in sheer horror.
"Are you insane?"
"Hey, are you giving up already?" Magrun and Grida spoke in turn.
Even Anne’s pupils were trembling with shock. "What's wrong with you? Did you get poisoned?"
Encrid didn't bother with a comforting excuse. "If it turns out to be wrong, we can just find our way again then. Or would you rather stop here? For how long? Until the sorcery wears off?"
Stopping was exactly what the enemy wanted. Therefore, they would take the path the enemy least expected. Besides, hadn't Ragna wandered the desert before, only to return and ask everyone to teach him how to find his way?
"I find my way by looking at the stars," Ragna had said, adding that if the stars weren't visible, he relied on intuition. Sachsen had said he followed sounds or scents, and Rem had mentioned desert guides who walked the "wind paths."
Ragna isn't one of those guides, but...
He knew how to find his way when it mattered. Just as he had in Nauril. Encrid trusted Ragna's instincts.
"I knew you'd believe in me, Captain. Give me my sword," Ragna said, reaching out. He set Anne down and took his greatsword back.
Anne placed her hands on her trembling thighs, staring at Encrid as if he’d lost his mind, while Ragna began to forge ahead in his own unique way.
Until now, Magrun and Grida had always detoured whenever they encountered blocked paths or dense thickets. Ragna was a man who knew no such compromise. The moment his intuition told him north was "this way," he went straight.
"That's a cliff, you crazy bastard!"
Grida's shout was entirely ignored. Ragna casually dismissed her and swung his greatsword, hacking down the giant trees blocking his path.
Crash!
The shattered trees fell, crushing smaller growth in their wake. A few saplings were ripped entirely from the soil, roots exposed.
"This is north."
Having cleared the obstacles, he marched forward with stubborn resolve. If rocks blocked him, he leaped over them; if trees blocked him, he cut them down. When they finally reached the cliff, Ragna simply began to slide down the face.
"...We're going down there?" Anne asked. Her face looked as though it had been dipped in blue dye.
"Get on my back."
Since Ragna was clearing the path, Encrid carried her this time.
"I feel like my resolve is being chipped away," Anne said solemnly from his back. She sounded as if she was having serious second thoughts.
"As long as we get out of the sorcery's range, it doesn't matter if it's north or not," Encrid whispered.
What the enemy wanted was to waste their time, so doing the exact opposite was the correct move. Ragna descended the steep cliff without trouble, utilizing his monstrous physical abilities. He occasionally drove his greatsword into the rock face to stabilize himself. They were knights, after all; a drop like this wouldn't make them stumble.
"Is this really right?" Grida muttered.
As a scout, Grida had been taught that in situations like this, one must stop and carefully verify the direction. But such common sense was utterly lost on these madmen.
Ragna led them forward with brute-force ignorance. By the time the sun set and the world lost its color to the encroaching darkness, they finally broke free from the sorcery's domain.
This was after sliding down a cliff, climbing another rock face, cutting down over twenty trees, and scaling a small rocky mountain.
Naturally, it wasn't the north.
They had emerged to the west. They would have to take a longer detour now, but even so, this was an incredible feat. Anyone else would have lost their sense of direction and wandered in circles. Even for knights, it should have taken much longer, but Ragna's sheer momentum had minimized their wasted time.
"I suppose it's impressive, in a way," Grida marveled.
Ragna nodded as if it were only natural, though the way he looked around suggested he had absolutely no idea where they actually were. It was time for Magrun to get their bearings.
"You said our original destination was the Hunter Village, right?" Encrid asked.
House Zaun had several villages surrounding it: the Hunter Village, the Retirees' Village, and the Broker's Village. Their destination was the Hunter Village, located near the south. It wasn't the fastest route to Zaun, but it was the most logical path.
"That's right," Magrun replied.
Encrid followed up without hesitation. "Is there no path that leads straight to Zaun?"
If he were the enemy mage, he would have laid similar traps ahead—as many as his resources allowed. If they had time to prepare, there could be dozens of such traps. In that case, was there any reason to walk right into them?
Looking at the sorcery and the poison mist, there was no sign that Odinkar had passed through there. If Odinkar had come first... the traps would have already been triggered, leaving only traces behind.
Nothing in this world was perfect, sorcery included.
They were likely one-time traps that dissipate after a certain period once activated.
Both the poison mist and the direction-disrupting sorcery possessed significant power. They weren't things that could be kept active indefinitely. Therefore...
"Let's change our route."
Changing their path would allow them to slip past the enemy's predictions. At Encrid's suggestion, Magrun looked at Anne.
"The path is going to be very rough if we're carrying her."
He was pointing out that the issue wasn't the person carrying her, but whether the person being carried could endure the jarring movement.
Anne answered for herself. "I can take some medicine to sleep. Ragna can just tie me tightly to his back."
Anne's resolve remained unshaken.
"You heard her," Encrid said, shrugging.
With that, their destination and route shifted. Ragna stopped looking around and finally spoke.
"We took a bit of a detour."
Son of a bitch. If this is a 'bit of a detour,' then going any further out of our way would take us to Southern Richenstetten instead of Zaun, Magrun thought, barely holding back a curse.
At any rate, they had made it out.