Chapter 61
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: 13. The Black Mages' Festival. (6)
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The village, once swept by the necromancer's night raid, had suffered heavy losses. The wails laced with screams from those who'd lost family echoed on until the early dawn.
Bodies had been burning since nightfall, and the pyres still blazed as the morning sun rose. The stench of roasting flesh turned the stomachs of the more squeamish villagers, leaving several heaving in the dirt.
The villagers, already scarred by the horrific ordeal, readily accepted evacuation to the city. They knew full well that sticking around meant dying like dogs in the street. Only the old-timers, born and bred in this place, refused to budge. "Better to drop dead in my hometown than croak on some roadside," they grumbled, holding fast to the end.
Those preparing to leave tried packing anything of value they could carry—even their livestock in some cases—but the mercenaries put a hard stop to that.
"This is just a temporary evacuation. You're not leaving for good, so grab only your money and food."
The elderly village chief wandered the village, persuading folks one by one. Plenty still ignored him, but the mercenaries let minor offenses slide.
And so, nearly five hundred souls abandoned their beloved hometown and set off on the road to refuge. Even the most clueless children picked up on the grim mood, clutching their parents' hands and following quietly.
Most of the horses had been devoured by ghouls, so unlike their arrival by wagon, the mercenaries now trudged alongside the refugees on foot.
Whenever the group paused to rest, people beseeched the Blind Saintess and red-robed Christopher to pray for divine protection. The pair roamed tirelessly through the crowd, offering endless prayers without a moment's proper break. They showed no hint of complaint—as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Good thing I never became a believer. If I had, I'd have punted the balls of every bastard disturbing my beauty sleep till they popped."
"Captain, who asked you to?"
Bald blind Billy kicked lazily at the air while lounging crookedly, prompting tattooed Arnold to cackle in response.
The mercenaries' crude banter marked the end of their brief respite. The hundreds-strong procession resumed its march toward the mid-sized city of Hegel.
The black mages' rampage had spooked even the greedier merchant caravans—no sign of them looping through the villages, big or small. Not that you'd expect them to risk their necks for pocket change.
The group's pace was painfully slow. It wasn't just spry young men; the mix included the elderly and children who lagged behind. Rudra the Mercenary Leader called frequent rests, but truth be told, they couldn't magically endure this grueling forced march.
The mercenaries' faces grew sterner by the hour. For them, the ideal outcome was slipping into the city without a fight, limbs intact. The leader's priorities ran exactly the opposite.
After a full day of walk-rest cycles, the group halted at sunset and made camp there. If you could call it camping—it was more like bedding down rough.
The Allen Mercenary Corps had nothing but thin mats for bedding. No firewood for a campfire in sight either; the best they managed was snagging torch staves from the village to light the area.
The chilly gusts whipping across the barren sand flats bit deep. Still, Allen had endured far worse cold in the dungeon once, so layering a couple extra garments made this manageable enough.
The formation had the refugees clustered in the center, ringed by the mercenaries. One sentry per unit.
"Everyone, stay sharp on watch. They might burrow up from underground like last night, so check the ground regularly."
Stone walls had hidden the dirt yesterday, but today was wide open. Proper vigilance should prevent a repeat disaster.
Small mercy: the black mages had bandits acting like extinct beasts—nowhere to be seen day or night. Those thugs cherished their hides too much to sniff around. ...Or maybe they were already worm food.
"I know I'm repeating myself till your ears bleed, but no need to fear them overly much. We scrapped with them yesterday, so you get the picture now, right? With experience under our belts, any fight from here will go way smoother."
"Aye, confirmed their balls ain't the weak spot."
Keh heh heh—. A small chuckle rippled through at the bald one's quip. Too much tension stiffened you up bad, but as leader, Allen didn't want them slacking either.
"Right... anyway. Sleep in your gear. You all know why by now."
"Yes, Leader."
"Get some solid rest, everyone. Sentries, you'll have the rotten shift."
The non-sentries hit their mats and were snoring off to dreamland in seconds flat.
Allen tossed a bit before conking out fast.
···
Fortune smiled: no black mages showed for two full days. The refugees seemed to spin wild hopes of having ditched them for good, but Allen wasn't buying it.
What kind of bastards were they? No doubt lurking somewhere, biding their time. Complacency was poison...!
Hell, they might drag this out for days to lull the group into dropping guard, then hit hard. Judging by the enemy numbers last time, Allen figured they saw a winnable fight too.
Cold calculus said a clash hurt them way more. Even if the necromancer lost, he could pull back, rebuild his corpse army elsewhere. Victory just ballooned his forces. ......Unless you dusted the necromancer himself.
Anyhow, the third day's brutal march ended in nightfall once more.
Tomorrow afternoon at soonest, day after latest—they were that close. Allen was dead certain: attack tonight.
A flicker of hope lit the members' faces: survive the night, home free to the city. Sadly, Allen doused it cold.
"If they skip tonight, no more shots at us. Odds are high they'll hit hard. Eyes open, everyone."
Not just Allen—the other leaders thought the same. Orders went out for sentries to double down harder than usual.
"Fuck yeah, what kinda bastards let us waltz away clean? They're coming, no doubt. Bet one nut on it—!"
Bald blind Billy boasted loud.
......But unbelievably, no attack that night either. Everyone looked baffled. Even Allen had to admit some fluster.
Come early morning reveille, the leaders converged like clockwork.
"Why haven't the enemy shown?"
"Ain't it better for us if they don't?"
"True enough."
"Looks like we really shook 'em."
"Mission success, zero casualties!"
Tough to wrap heads around, but glee was plain. What beat dodging a fight altogether?
Allen couldn't join the party.
Why pass up such ripe prey? If intentional, why? For what?
Rudra the Leader smelled the same rat. After dismissing the others, she sought Allen alone.
From what he'd seen, she was plenty trustworthy—a top-notch leader. Shared goal of group survival made aiding each other a win-win. Rivalry had long faded to nothing.
"Got any hunches?"
"Dunno. It's weird. Just doesn't add up..."
"Think on the bright side?"
"......Could be. Yeah, might just be me overthinking."
Allen began wondering if he'd fretted too much. And with results staring them down, hard to deny.
"Priority one: hustle back to the city."
"Agreed."
The group wolfed a hasty breakfast and hit the road to Hegel anew.
"You shit, swore they'd come last night. No show, means cut your balls, right? Chop chop?"
"Goddamn, cut me some slack, you mangy dog—!"
"Told your flapping trap would bite you in the ass."
"Fine, slice 'em. Slice away—."
Bald blind Billy whipped his pants down, flopping his nasty cock out and hollering to cut his balls. Whoops—. The Blind Saintess and red-robed mage snapped their heads away like they'd glimpsed the forbidden.
"Pull your fucking pants up already. Nasty as hell—!"
"Fuckin' won't even do it. Heh."
"Gonna really hack 'em off? No take-backs, dog?"
"Alright alright. Can't a guy joke? Shit. Stone-cold bitches. Heh."
Clutching his filthy nutsack triumphantly, bald blind Billy yanked his pants back up with a shit-eating grin. ......The red-robed mage realized with fresh eyes just how massive the Leader's cock was. By comparison, Billy's was a grubby little baby carrot.
Anyhow, after a morning of walk-rest repeats, the city's walls finally crept into view.
"Hegel—!"
Someone let out a hopeful whoop. Expressions lit with raw survival joy as they hugged it out.
......But something felt off.
Smoke?
Great plumes of black smoke were billowing skyward from deep inside the city.
Allen's spine turned to ice in an instant. He gulped dry and bolted to Rudra the Leader up front.
"Rudra Leader—!"
"Allen...!"
Not just them—the other leaders' faces shifted from hope to shock to despair.
The unthinkable clicked perfectly with last night's eerie quiet.
Murmurs swelled into despairing groans in no time.
And as the group drew near the city, that awful hunch hardened to certainty.
Ah—.
Only then did Allen grasp exactly why the black mage bastards had let them be.
......The mid-sized city of Hegel
had fallen to the enemy overnight.