Chapter 246
Chapter 246
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 246
Chapter Title: Signs of Disaster? (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The path out of the Sequoia Forest was so overgrown from lack of human traffic that it barely qualified as a road. It was a good thing the carriage was sturdy; otherwise, the wheels would have fallen off long ago.
Even in broad daylight, the forest was dim and shadowy due to the towering sequoia trees that blocked the sunlight from reaching the ground. Aside from the sequoias themselves, the undergrowth consisted mostly of ferns and mushrooms that thrived in the shade. During a brief rest stop, I made sure to feed the horses apples and carrots beforehand so they wouldn't scavenge anything strange.
“Master. Aila looks hungry.”
“Does she? Then how about we have lunch here too?”
“Yes!”
It might have been El who was actually hungry, judging by his unusually excited response. We cleared a spot on the grass-covered ground and sat in a dry circle. I distributed lunchboxes from my subspace ring to the group and prepared a fresh lamb hind leg for Aila. Aila eagerly tore into the meat but yielded the first bite to Argos. Argos buried his face in the offered leg, chomping away before stepping back. He then quietly watched Aila eat, eventually wandering off to patrol the surroundings in her stead.
I lit a small fire to brew some herbal tea and placed a pot filled with clean spring water on top. I added dried lemon, herbs, and honey, letting it come to a rolling boil. The tangy lemon scent mingled with the sweet aroma of honey and the fragrant, slightly bitter notes of the herbs, filling the air. By the time we finished our lunchboxes, the tea would be perfectly steeped.
Opening the hefty lunchbox, which felt almost too full, revealed an abundant spread of dishes. Simple fare, but more than enough to fill us up properly.
The first thing that caught the eye was ravioli. Italian dumplings, perhaps? These were stuffed with sautéed minced mushrooms and cheese, topped with a rich cream sauce that looked utterly tempting. Clearly the main course. Popping a sizable ravioli into my mouth unleashed a burst of earthy mushroom flavor and creamy cheese.
“Wow, I thought it was meat!”
“If you sauté mushrooms long enough without burning them, they take on a meaty taste. Impressive cooking.”
It was a shame we wouldn't have this dish for a while, but with plenty of other lunches left, it wasn't too disappointing.
Accompanying the ravioli were chop steaks with green beans and onions. The steaks, infused with a thick gravy and perfectly medium-rare, were so tender they practically melted without much chewing. In a restaurant, knives would be fine, but for a packed lunch, preparing chop steaks showed real consideration. And the flavor went without saying.
Callisto's vegetarian-focused lunchbox had grilled eggplant and potatoes instead of steak. Fried in fresh olive oil, the eggplant rivaled any meat in taste. Callisto seemed quite satisfied as well.
Topping it off with sugar-glazed baked bananas as a simple dessert left us thoroughly stuffed. No snacks for the next half day, that was for sure.
“Alright, let's have some tea and get moving.”
“Sounds good.”
A hot cup would refresh us perfectly to wrap up the meal. I stood to pour a cup for everyone.
That was when it happened.
-Grrrrrr...
-Woof! Woof woof!
Aila, who had been crunching on the lamb bone, growled toward the bushes before abruptly tossing it aside and assuming a full alert stance. She crouched low, baring her teeth to threaten an unseen foe. I set down the ladle I'd picked up and quietly rested my hand on the dagger at my waist. The others did the same. El, Lloyd, and Callisto all placed hands on their weapons, eyes fixed on the bushes beyond where Aila was growling.
-Rustle.
-Grrrrrr...
The bushes shook. What would emerge? Not orcs or other monsters, surely. Then...
-Grrrrr...
-Grrrrrr...
Two black dogs stepped out from the bushes. Their ears, cropped to sharp points like horns standing upright, gave them a striking resemblance to Dobermans. The main differences were their larger size and bulkier builds. These black hounds, embodying every intimidating trait of guard dogs, approached without halting their growls even upon spotting Aila, the shadow wolf.
Aila, cloaked in fluffy white fur like moonlight, stood in stark contrast to the two sleek, jet-black short-haired hounds from head to toe.
“Watchdogs.”
Lloyd whispered. Watchdogs—the nickname for these hounds. Descendants of the imperial dogs bred in the ancient Ansgar court. Their original form was far larger and more majestic, but crossbreeding with other breeds had reduced their size somewhat. They still maintained the tradition of docking tails and ears, though.
Ownership of watchdogs was strictly controlled. Only imperial descendants of the Barak Empire, a handful of nobles tied by marriage to the emperor's favor, or those gifted gelded specimens unfit for breeding. Roshan, Lysette, and Ergin likely had such gifts. But none of those people would be here...
*Who the hell could be out here with them...?*
I raised a hand to signal the group: hold position. Leaving them behind, I gave a soft whistle. Hearing it, Aila quietly retreated step by step, still baring her teeth. Did they take it as surrender? The two watchdogs circled closer, enclosing her.
-Step.
As I took a step forward, their gazes snapped to me. But they didn't drop their guard on Aila. Whoever owned them had trained them exceptionally well. Cautiously, I extended my hand very slowly, at a pace that wouldn't alarm them.
*...This might not work.*
Would my [Affinity] prevail? If they already harbored hostility toward me, or were highly trained, or deeply bonded to their master, the odds dropped. Watchdogs were notoriously loyal. In other words, this was a gamble.
“Easy...”
-Grrrrr...
“Good dogs.”
I lowered my stance and inched forward, agonizingly slow. Hand, arm, shoulder, and finally face to face—the watchdogs paused their growling for a moment, sniffing the air. Promising sign. [Affinity] might be working...
“Ajin!”
-...!
“Duba!”
-...!
A clear voice rang out from behind the bushes. The watchdogs' ears perked up, and they resumed growling at me and Aila. So much for [Affinity]. I slowly raised both hands in surrender, waiting for whoever was about to emerge.
“...”
What stepped out was completely unlike my expectations. I'd assumed nobility with watchdogs, but...
*That’s...*
It was a very small woman. I guessed her gender from the voice calling the dogs' names, not her appearance. She was draped in layers of white, translucent silk-like fabric. Only her silhouette was visible; her face remained obscured.
The simple reason I didn't peg her as nobility: no ornaments whatsoever. Nobles adorned themselves to proclaim status—their greatest weapon. Yet this woman wore nothing but the fabric itself.
Of course, she could be an eccentric noble. The silk was no ordinary cloth; pure white silk was an exorbitant luxury sourced exclusively from Niram, the finest grade even there...
But something odder than her attire sealed it. That was what convinced me she wasn't nobility.
*Barefoot.*
Yes.
Her feet were uncovered, yet as pristine and soft-looking as the white silk draping her body. In this rugged Sequoia Forest, three steps barefoot would leave them filthy and scraped. But hers looked freshly washed, spotless.
“Shh.”
At her whisper-soft command, the two watchdogs turned meek as lambs, sitting ramrod straight. Their eyes fixed on the white-clad woman like obedient pups following their mother. No doubt—she was their owner.
*Even the emperor keeps only one as his own...*
So who the hell was she?
“Sorry.”
Before my questions could settle, a soft voice filtered through the silk. Delicate, clear, like tinkling glass. Different tone from when she'd called the dogs.
“I didn't expect anyone else to be in this forest...”
A pale hand emerged to stroke the watchdogs' heads. I watched silently, then snapped my fingers once. Aila fully retreated, teeth still bared no longer.
“No harm done. We didn't expect company either.”
My reply drew a soft laugh—or was it my imagination?
“Nice scent.”
Huh?
What? I turned to eye the pot bubbling over the fire. The tea, maybe?
“...Care for a cup?”
“Oh... May I?”
“Brewed plenty.”
“Then gratefully... My throat was parched anyway.”
She approached the fire slowly. The watchdogs trotted faithfully behind. I raised a hand again, and the group lowered their hands from weapons, easing tension. I ladled steaming tea into a cup and handed it to her.
“...It's hot. Careful.”
Who the hell was this woman?