To Breitenfeld (4)
The sun was already high in the sky. As Elena lit the fire with a calm expression, I pulled out my ladle to boil the remaining stew. The sensation of tearing through the flesh of a Blood Ogre had been satisfying enough, but the sudden memory of the taste made me gag.
“Ugh.” My stomach felt greasy. It was a monster that was fun to fight, but as food, it was absolute trash. It must be exactly what rotting blood sausage tastes like. Seeing my condition, Anastasia approached and asked, “…Are you alright?”
“Ah, yeah. Just thinking about the old days a bit.”
“Oh…”
The emotional states I’d seen from Anastasia today: despair, sobbing, ecstasy, and then despair again. Is she bipolar? I should hope there’s a psychiatrist in the next village we visit.
“*Sigh.*” Such is my fate. Somehow, weirdos always end up clinging to me. Of course, since they’re beautiful girls, it’s not exactly a hardship. If anything, I should say my life has become quite comfortable. Plus, I even had a proper battle today.
“Hmm-hmm-hmm~” I hummed while stirring the boiling stew. Soon, the pot began to bubble, so I took it off the fire and ladled the stew into our respective bowls.
“Let’s eat.”
We ate in silence. For some reason, none of the three of them looked very happy. Damn it, you’re ruining my appetite.
“Hey, let’s at least smile while we eat!”
“…Yes.”
Elena offered a bitter smile. No, that’s not a smile, Elena!! Elizabeth was barely holding back tears, and Anastasia was hanging her head so low she couldn’t even lift her spoon properly. I was wondering why the atmosphere had gone to hell when Elizabeth finally spoke up.
“Count.”
“…Yes, Your Highness?”
“By any chance…” She hesitated before speaking as if confessing something. “Could you teach me swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship!!”
When someone asks to be taught swordsmanship with such a pitiful expression, there’s no way to refuse. I smiled brightly and answered, “Of course!!”
Though, perhaps a sword isn’t what suits Elizabeth best. In the original work, she used a sword because she followed her brother, but there were constant mentions that she might have been stronger if she’d used a different weapon, or that she could have become a master of a different craft. Still, I couldn’t just say, ‘Elizabeth, you’re better suited for a bow than a sword,’ right here. I decided that once we reached the village today, I’d pack our supplies, pull some weapons from my warehouse, and let her choose what she liked.
As for Elena, well… for some reason, she was practicing mana cultivation, something she didn’t usually do. She’d been at it ever since she used that cleansing magic on my body earlier. Did seeing me fight trigger a change of heart? Well, whatever is good is good.
“If you’re done eating, let’s get moving!!”
Elena used her staff to finish the dishes, then packed the tent, stove, pots, and bowls into the wagon’s cargo space. I said to Elizabeth as she climbed into the carriage, “She seems a bit under the weather, so why don’t you ride together today, Your Highness?”
“…Yes.”
It was strange how readily she accepted that. She had certainly been very sharp in front of Elena before… Anastasia, still wearing that strange collar, trembled as she climbed into the wagon.
“Co-Commander… I’m more comfortable in the cargo space…”
“Shut up and just get in. And I’m not a commander, so call me by my name. Go Suhyun, Go Sugil, whatever you like.”
At my words, Anastasia blushed shyly and replied, “Yes, Go Sugil-nim…”
Ha, what am I supposed to do with this bipolar patient? I’ll have to find a doctor when we reach the village, and if we stop by a city, I’ll have to find one there too. More than that, I wonder if ‘Go Sugil’ just rolls off the tongues of the people here better. Leaving behind a slight bitterness, I mounted the back of Brownie. I kicked the beast’s belly and said, “Let’s go, Brownie.”
Pffft— The beast snorted, as if annoyed.
“Then should I call you Gold?”
Pffft— The beast made a face as if it liked that, but what’s decided cannot be changed. “No. You’re Brownie. Brownie!”
Pffft— The beast suddenly reared its front legs high and began to run like a wild horse.
“Hey, you idiot! What’s wrong with you!”
Honestly, I hadn’t ridden a horse much, so I wasn’t very good at handling it. It was docile until yesterday, so why is it like this today?
“Go Sugil-nim! Where are you going!” Elena shouted, but Brownie’s anger didn’t subside easily. Besides, Elena was still practicing mana cultivation even now. She’s tough, really tough. Does she really intend to earn the title of Archmage?
I barely managed to calm Brownie down with sheer strength and waited for the party on the road. I had ridden so far that they looked like mere dots in the distance. After giving Brownie a light flick on the forehead as a vent for my frustration, I looked around. It was all forest. A perfect landscape for an extra villain to pop out.
“Hehehe… hand over everything you’ve got…!!”
Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear. I crossed my arms on the horse’s back and said with a grin, “I’m in a good mood today, so if you get lost now, I’ll spare your lives!”
“Bullshit! Get ‘em, boys!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!!”
A scream, which I assumed was Anastasia’s, echoed from afar. Well, Elena is there, so she’ll handle it. More importantly, it’s only been two days since we left the Imperial Capital, and between Blood Ogres and bandits, am I just cursed with bad luck? A normal traveler might describe it that way, but my case was different. I am, in fact, a lucky guy.
I pulled a longsword that was rolling around in my Weapon Warehouse and showed it to the bandits.
“Boss! A sword just appeared out of thin air!”
“Damn it, is he a Magic Swordsman… Run, boys!!”
A whistle blew, and the guys who were attacking our party in the distance fled back into the forest. Besides, that ‘boss’ guy looked familiar. His name was… uh… Ge… Georg? I think he was in the original work too. Or not? I feel like I saw him at the Northern Wall. I wasn’t sure, so I rode in the direction the boss had fled.
“Let’s go, Brownie!!”
“Uwaaaah! Boss!! That crazy bastard is chasing us!!”
I slashed through the cumbersome branches with my longsword and stood in front of the boss. His underlings couldn’t do anything and just ran away, leaving him behind.
“Ptooey! Useless bastards.”
“Hey, you. Aren’t you Georg?”
“How do you know my name?”
It was Georg, alright.
“Did you serve at the Northern Wall? The 3rd Legion?”
“…Did you come to catch deserters?”
“I’m just a passing traveler.”
So I did see him at the Northern Wall. “Don’t you recognize my face? We saw each other quite a bit.”
“Who are you?”
Well, the last time I saw him was when I was 12. It wouldn’t be strange if he didn’t know me. I suppose living as a deserter and doing bandit work, he wouldn’t know how the world was turning. When I told him the Demon King was dead and that even deserters wouldn’t be punished, Georg was shocked.
“The Demon King is dead?!”
“Yeah.”
“That’s impossible.”
He stared into empty space like a man who had lost his soul, then suddenly started taking off his shirt. Hmm. Is he crazy? I guess that can happen if you desert, can’t return home, and just live as a bandit. Hmm, hmm.
Georg pointed to his chest. “You see this? If you were at the Northern Wall, you’d know it well.”
“…!!”
The black mark, the symbol of the Demon King, was shimmering on his chest. He trembled and muttered, “If the Demon King were really dead, this damn Mark of Ruin or whatever it is should have disappeared too. But it didn’t, damn it all!!”
“Ah.”
Why didn’t I think of that? The Dark Mages belonging to the Demon King’s army would occasionally cast strange magic on the soldiers of the Northern Wall. There was nothing physically wrong with the soldiers under the spell, but strange marks were etched onto their chests, arms, backs, or shoulders, and we called them the Mark of Ruin. Because at any time of the day, it would tighten around your heart without warning. Countless people died because of it. Seeing that Georg had survived this long, his mental fortitude and resistance to demonic energy must be strong.
I looked at him and said calmly, “The war is over. No one will punish deserters like you if you return home.”
“…That’s certainly good news.”
Georg put his clothes back on and asked with a sad expression, “You. What’s your name?”
“Go Sugil.”
“Go Sugil…? That brat?”
“You finally remember me.”
Georg stepped closer and stared intently at my face. “So you were the Northern Shield, the one who fought alone and survived at the Northern Wall.”
“Yeah.”
“That brat, how did he…”
“Well, it was tough, but it was a fun time in its own way.”
I took five platinum coins from my pocket and gave them to him. “Use this for your travel expenses home. I assume all the bandits here are deserters, too.”
“…Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. We were comrades, weren’t we? Quit the bandit life. You said you had a son or daughter back home, right?”
“…Yeah.”
With that, I headed out of the forest and rejoined the party. Elizabeth asked if I was alright, but I just nodded. I recalled the memories of that far-off Northern Wall. The kind young man who took special care of me after I was dropped into this world. The man who said he had a newborn baby at home and wondered if he’d ever be able to see the child’s face. Georg, who had deserted the Northern Wall after his comrades lost their lives one by one, leaving him to wait for death with the Mark of Ruin etched into his skin until he lost his mind.
I simply reminisced.
“I hope you live well.”
That was my prayer.