Evernode (1)
Five days had passed since we began our journey north. Though we were delayed by occasional monster ambushes and held back by rain and mud, we had finally crossed into the region known as the North yesterday.
Horseback riding was easier than I had expected. Even without me pulling hard on the reins or kicking its flanks, the horse moved exactly as I wanted. For some reason, I felt like I communicated better with this beast than with most people. Or perhaps the original Elroy simply had a natural talent for riding.
"The days are getting longer," Georg remarked.
It was only natural. We were heading toward the summer solstice, and our latitude was steadily increasing. By the time we reached Evernode, we might even witness the midnight sun I had only ever heard about.
"What time is it now?"
"Just past six in the evening. The horses must be getting tired, so we should probably find a place to camp nearby, rest, and prepare for tomorrow."
I nodded. Looking back, I saw Daphne, Marianne, and the knights and soldiers escorting us on this northern expedition. I had heard that this journey was not merely for our protection; it also served to honor the Grand Duke of the North for his tireless defense of Evernode and to reinforce his depleted forces.
"We'll stop here for today and look for a suitable spot to camp," I said, pulling my horse to a halt.
At my words, the soldiers' faces lit up, and they quickly dismounted. They were good men who rarely complained, but seeing them eagerly set up camp like employees clocking out, only to sluggishly dismantle it the next morning like dragging themselves to work, made me chuckle in shared sympathy.
"We should get ours set up too."
I dismounted and stretched my stiff muscles. Even though the horse did all the running, staying in the saddle for hours on end took a toll on the body. My joints popped and cracked with every twist of my torso.
After tethering my horse, I helped pitch the tents. At first, the knights and soldiers had tried to stop me, insisting that the Hero shouldn't do such menial labor, but now they had no qualms about handing me tasks.
"Ah, Sir Hero. You've gotten quite good at this."
"Right? I told you, you can master anything once you get the hang of it."
As I boasted with a smug grin, one of the soldiers clapped a hand onto my shoulder and pointed toward their own tents.
"In that case, would you mind helping us set up our barracks too?"
"Get lost, you punks."
The soldiers scurried off, cackling, and I sat down in front of my newly pitched tent. The campfire, which had just been lit, began to crackle and burn a brilliant crimson as it consumed the dry twigs. It was early summer—hardly the season to sit by a fire—but the shifting climate of the North demanded its gentle warmth.
"It's nice that it gets cooler the further north we go."
The wind grew crisper as we drew nearer to Evernode. Since yesterday, the breeze had carried a different scent—the smell of damp, moss-covered earth and stone, the crisp aroma of tree bark bitten by cold winds, and the clean fragrance of water from upstream. These elements mingled to create the complex, distinct air of the North.
"The monsters of the North are fierce," Georg said, taking a seat beside me.
I blinked and looked at him.
"Have you been to the North before?"
"I have. Just like the knights traveling with us now, I was once part of a regular deployment here."
Georg poked at the fire with a stick, his eyes fixed on the mess tin heating over the flames.
"When food is scarce in the winter, the monsters become far more vicious. Fighting them in knee-deep snow without even being able to sleep in peace was pure torture. I am truly glad we scheduled this expedition for the summer."
A Grey Bear even more ferocious than back then... Not exactly an opponent I wanted to picture.
"We're all done setting up too," Daphne said as she and Marianne approached and sat down.
I was currently running a "Let's Be Friends" project between the two of them, given how awkward they were around each other. Though it felt a bit forced, Daphne was slowly adapting to Marianne. By now, she seemed to handle Marianne's dry, deadpan demeanor almost as well as I did.
"Is it Elroy's turn to cook today?" Daphne asked, peering into the mess tin.
I believed my cooking had improved since the time Marianne utterly trashed it. Georg's verdict last time had been, 'Well, it's edible.' Of course, since Marianne was an insurmountable wall when it came to culinary skills, the party usually tried to stop me whenever I volunteered to cook.
"Yeah. It'll be less of an experiment than last time, at least."
Daphne nodded, casting an anxious glance at the mess tin. Every time I made an experimental attempt, the results were either a hit or a massive miss. The computer in my brain was currently processing that big data, slowly calculating the formula for the optimal stew.
"Looks like it's about done."
"...You didn't put anything weird in it this time, right?"
Georg, who seemed to secretly enjoy my makeshift cooking, peered eagerly into the tin, while Daphne refused to even look at it out of sheer anxiety. The aroma wafting up wasn't bad at all, though. Was my palate just different from theirs? Tilting my head, I pulled three mess tins off the fire. I took a small spoonful to taste. Hmm. This is the best thing I've made so far.
"It's decent," Georg said.
"...It's not bad," Daphne murmured.
They were lukewarm reviews, but at least their faces didn't contort in horror. We ate our meal while chatting. The main topics of conversation were Daphne's rapid progress—having recently reached the 5th Circle after our last bet—and Georg's "back in my day" stories about his time in the North.
"So we're really going to fight the fourth Calamity now," Daphne said, staring blankly into the fire. The empty mess tins were stacked neatly by the hearth to dry.
"Do you know what the Seven Calamities actually are?" Georg asked, looking at Daphne and Marianne. Daphne shook her head uncertainty, while Marianne, rare for her, spoke up.
"The enemies of God, and the enemies of humanity."
"...Indeed. The remnants of the mythical era, the seven disasters destined to destroy the world," Georg said, counting them on his fingers. "The Serpent, the Locust, the Kraken, the Giant, the Mist, the Meteor, and the Source."
The names alone carried a chilling weight. With each one Georg listed, the campfire seemed to flicker and sway.
"Among them, the first and second Calamities—the Serpent and the Locust—were defeated and eradicated by the generation before us. And the third Calamity, the Kraken, was defeated during our last expedition, as you know."
I nodded. Georg was far better suited to explain the history up to the third Calamity.
"When we fought the third Calamity... I finally understood why they were called world-ending disasters," Georg said, seemingly lost in his memories of the battle against the Kraken. "Every time that thing swung a tentacle, several ships vanished. In the end, we couldn't finish it at sea and had to lure it all the way to the docks. The port city was practically reduced to rubble, but by mobilizing every last soldier, we barely managed to bring it down."
Georg glanced at me as he spoke. "It was a far more devastating victory than people realize. Wasn't it?"
"...Yeah," I agreed, turning my gaze back to the fire. It was best to keep my mouth shut here, but Georg seemed to interpret my silence as self-reproach.
"Sacrifice is inevitable in war. And if it is not a conflict between men, but a noble struggle to protect all of humanity, then their deaths will not have been in vain."
Deaths I did not know. A war I did not fight. I couldn't bring myself to answer Georg with hollow words, so I merely nodded. I could feel Daphne hesitating beside me. Even without looking, I knew exactly what kind of expression she was making.
"Well, enough gloomy talk. Ask me something else," Georg said, deliberately brightening his tone to lift the mood. Not wanting to let the atmosphere die by staying silent, I quickly spoke up.
"How did you set up camp in the winter? It must have been hard to do anything with snow piled up everywhere."
"We scraped up moss and slept on it. We had to do whatever we could to keep our body heat from escaping..."
"...Elroy."
I blinked my eyes open and sat up. The surroundings were plunged into complete darkness. Today, I had the last shift. It was my turn to keep watch until sunrise. I irritably brushed away Georg's hand as he tapped my shoulder and pushed myself up. The air was chilly, and my sleeping bag felt damp.
"I'm getting up. Stop poking me."
After sending Georg on his way, I grumbled as I threw on my coat and grabbed the Holy Sword. Stepping out of the tent, I found Georg standing there with bloodshot, exhausted eyes, holding a lantern.
"Time to swap. Any unusual activity?"
"None. Since it's summer, the monsters seem content to stay in their own territories. Still, don't fall asleep sitting down. Stay alert."
Georg yawned widely and handed me the lantern. In the meantime, I circulated my mana to completely banish any lingering drowsiness. With clear, alert eyes, I took the lantern and sent Georg off to sleep. In the silence of the northern night, only the occasional hoot of an owl or the caw of a crow broke the quiet. I set the lantern down and sat by the campfire. The soldiers and knights on watch were lost in their own thoughts. I glanced at them once before drawing the Holy Sword.
"Of course."
When we first set out for Evernode, the Holy Sword had given me two tasks.
Tasks?
Unlocking... the second stage.
I drew the Holy Sword, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. As mana circulated through my body, the passage of time around me began to slow.
Yeah. I went through hell and back trying to train that 'Body' aspect.
Whoosh. The blade of the Holy Sword sliced lightly through the empty air.
Sounds awful.
Then what's the other one?
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Slash! Unable to withstand the wind of my swing, a nearby branch was severed. I stared at the Holy Sword with dissatisfaction and lowered my arm. Though I practiced swinging my sword every night and whenever I had a spare moment, I still didn't understand even ten percent of the Holy Sword's words or the true meaning behind this training.
"I still don't get it."
I ran a finger along the blade of the Holy Sword, which possessed a sharpness that seemed more likely to cleave dew than cradle it. The pure white blade gleamed brilliantly, reflecting the glow of the campfire.
"Easier said than done."
I gripped the hilt again and assumed a starting stance. The night was long, and there was plenty of time left to try different things.
Rustle. It happened just as I was about to swing my sword again. Along with the sound of stepping on grass, I felt a gaze fixed on me. Lowering my sword, I turned my head to find an unexpected figure staring intently at me from the other side of the camp.
"Marianne."
Leaning against her spear, Marianne stood there, her eyes shining like the full moon.