Everything as It Should Be (1)
We circled around the Great Forest. It was the usual path that linked east and west without unduly provoking the forest’s inhabitants.
Of course, given what we had done this time, cutting straight through would not have been a problem. After all, it was none other than the Great Chief who now owed us a debt.
But he had only just ascended to the position. He would be busy announcing the fact to the other tribes and ironing out all sorts of details. Rather than put him in an awkward spot, we chose the longer way around. It was also a route prepared against any demon worshipers who might appear.
Keuaheung!
“Uwaaaah!”
Well, what we actually ran into on the road was not an ambush but the raw danger of the Great Forest itself. Traveling with the forest folk I had never noticed, yet the place was crawling with beasts. Poisonous insects and dangerous plants too. Of course, that might simply have been because we were drawing closer to Camborer than to Hudelen.
“Is this already the third time today?!”
The whole reason we were heading to Camborer in the first place was these very beasts. Their numbers had apparently skyrocketed of late.
“You slippery bastard, stay still!”
“Crazy human, how the hell am I supposed to stay still with this thing on me?!”
“If you keep thrashing about I can’t hit it!”
“Waak! It’s biting, it’s biting!!”
“Wahahat! Young hunter, wait for me!”
“Uaaaaaah!!”
While Dev screamed, the Inquisitor and Berserk charged the beasts. Both were already spattered with blood from finishing off earlier ones.
Seogeok!
“Wak—waak!”
“Quiet.”
But I was faster. I severed the neck of the beast that had been about to sink its teeth into Dev. Blood poured over him in a torrent, yet since none of it landed on me I did not care.
I strode past them with my body still perfectly clean. The Archmage, who had barely escaped the chaos by standing dead center, wore a faintly sour look.
“Are you all right?”
“…Does this look all right to you?”
Meat Dumpling pointed at his blood-soaked self. The Archmage offered no reply.
“To lose your head over a single leopard. Your training is lacking.”
“Young hunter, you must have let your guard down!”
“Guard or no guard—how many humans can even fight a leopard one-on-one?”
That much was true. Hell, if I had still been in my real body I would have been in the same state as Dev, or worse. I trudged onward, nodding at the words that drifted after me.
“Oh dear. Leaving already?”
“Ah, Demon Knight! Let’s go together!”
“Ahaha! Come on, hunter!”
“…Could you at least give me a minute to wash the blood off, for pity’s sake?”
But agreement was one thing and the road was another. Thanks to the item effect the heat was not oppressive, yet the humidity still clung, and after days without a proper chance to wash I felt thoroughly sticky. Since nothing non-beast had ambushed us so far, it was safe to assume no demon worshipers lurked in these woods. With Camborer so near, I intended to leave this forest behind as soon as humanly possible.
“Argh, fine. My fault for being weak. Sir, let’s go!”
Full speed ahead!
“Ugh. This is really too much.”
Fortunately it was not long before we found a river—right around the time we ought to have made camp. Dev, who for the last few hours had been relentlessly targeted thanks to the blood plastered over him, jumped in at once. Apparently the beasts drawn by the scent of blood were more repulsive than water itself.
“Uhaha. Why the long face when it’s so much fun, young hunter!”
“Is it enough if only you’re having fun?”
With his wet clothes hung out to dry and a blanket wrapped tightly around him, Berserk thumped Dev’s back with cheerful force. True enough, Dev’s stint as living bait had kept Berserk from growing bored for even a moment—though from Dev’s perspective it was pure torment.
“Still, we secured today’s provisions, did we not?”
“I’ve already finished butchering everything!”
“I really should learn to keep my mouth shut……”
Dev wriggled deeper into the blanket. Curled up on the rock like that he truly looked like a dumpling—a rather forlorn one.
“Come now. Eat this instead.”
The Archmage soothed him gently and held out a piece of candy. In a world where sugar was precious, it was no small gift.
“Do I look like a child who can be bribed with sweets……?”
“Even so, something tasty lifts the spirits, does it not?”
Knowing that perfectly well, Dev grumbled yet did not refuse. Whether the sugar high hit at once or not, his expression brightened a little.
“Quite apart from that, today’s wild-animal attacks were indeed excessive. Seven times.”
“Could it be connected to the troubles in Camborer? Or some scheme of the slippery one who approached him?”
“Either possibility remains open.”
“Priestess, the meat is burning.”
“Ah!”
All the while the Archmage and the Inquisitor had been diligently tending the stew and the grill. Normally Dev took turns with them, but today he was in no condition, so the Inquisitor was putting in extra effort. Me? Remarkably enough I had never once been assigned cooking duty. Whether they knew I would refuse on principle or simply suspected I was hopeless at it, I could not say. Convenient either way—and since I am a terrible cook I had no complaints. Even in the modern world with easy heat control I burned everything; what hope was there here?
“Ah, hunter. Your clothes are dry.”
“Really?”
Just as the food finished, so did the laundry. Dev hurriedly changed. Watching him wriggle about inside the blanket—apparently unwilling to risk beasts by stepping farther away—was quite comical. Not that I had any intention of fashioning a privacy screen for his comfort.
“You should eat as well.”
The Archmage smiled contentedly and handed out the meal. The soup, whose meat content had somehow dwindled, was easy enough to swallow.
“Comrade, I have been wondering for some time—do you not eat meat?”
I paused mid-sip and met Berserk’s gaze. Those golden eyes, sharp as a wild animal’s, seemed to study me with care.
“None of your business.”
Well, I always left the meat off my plate, so it was hardly strange that they had noticed. Everyone half-suspected it and sometimes filtered the meat for me already.
“If you refuse meat your body will not endure.”
Still… I simply did not want it.
“I said, none of your business.”
Even before, digestion and preference had never made me fond of the stuff; now, after coming here…… I remembered the things that often found their way into my mouth during fights—the reek of blood. Appetite vanished at once.
“Oh dear.”
As I set the bowl down, the Archmage wore a faintly pitying look. But the desire to eat had already fled; I had no intention of forcing another bite.
“Then you will never grow tall.”
“…Excuse me. Exactly how old do you think Sir is, that height is still an issue……?”
“Is the Demon Knight not already tall enough? Among the Middle race I have met only one other of his stature.”
“Yet is the Demon Knight not still of an age to grow?”
“The Slend continue growing until thirty, but the Middle do not.”
“…Is that so??”
I left my seat instead. We had finally found a river; better to scrub myself thoroughly clean.
“Ah, I can see the city.”
“Wow, look at that mist… No wonder they call it Blue Mist Nest.”
A little more time passed; when exactly two weeks had been completed we arrived at Camborer.
Keuheong!
“Ugh—right to the last moment!”
“Uhaha, die!”
Luckily, or perhaps not, the attacks by demons or demon worshipers we had dreaded never materialized. We simply experienced, in full, the sudden explosion of beast numbers.
“They are not tainted by demon energy… yet it is strange. That the majority are felines is also suspicious. Just what is happening here?”
“Indeed.”
Not demons was a relief, but the abrupt increase in apex predators was hardly good news either—nor was the way they abandoned their usual ranges and swarmed together regardless of overlapping territories. Thus we entered the city with a measure of unease.
After identity checks, the Camborer we stepped into seemed less beautiful than Hudelen yet larger. Even at noon the mist that drifted through every street lent the place an oddly unearthly air.
“Whoa. There are a ridiculous number of adventurers.”
Armed figures strolled the streets in plenty. Their mismatched gear made it highly probable they were adventurers.
“Seems the city has placed bounties on beast subjugation.”
“Isn’t hunting demons more fun than beasts?”
“This is safer, is it not?”
True enough—ordinary folk struggled even against goblins, and demon-energy invasion was an added risk. Better lower pay and relative safety than the alternative. Berserk, whose strength was frankly unfair, did not seem to grasp the logic.
“Berserk finds demon hunting more enjoyable.”
“You will encounter them often enough while traveling with us; no need to worry.”
In any case we headed for the temple to unload our gear. First information came from there as well. A temple that gathered every sort of person collected news nearly as efficiently as an adventurer guild.
“Has the cause of the anomaly been found?”
“Unfortunately… we still have no solid leads. We have confirmed that the land has been drying of late, yet to call that the cause……”
“The land is drying?”
“Ever since Lady Biryuho concealed her presence, around this season the mountains and plains often grow parched. The air turns brittle and sand blows in from the desert.”
Even so, the order itself appeared to lack any clear motive yet.
“This time the dryness is somewhat stronger, yet not unprecedented. It was the same only seven years ago. Moreover the phenomenon strikes Ednium far harder than us; they lie closer to the desert.”
“Then the situation in Ednium……?”
“That city is not under beast attack. We have maintained steady contact over the Young Lord’s marriage arrangements, so the report is reliable.”
“Then dryness is difficult to name as the cause. We must consider other factors.”
“Yes… we shall keep it in mind, though the probability is low.”
“Then the direction from which the animals are flocking……”
“Regrettably they are not coming from any single direction……”
I leaned against the wall of the parlor-like chamber, leaving the conversation to them. The Archmage, the Inquisitor, and Dev sat around the desk in the center speaking with the bishop.
“This is delicious!”
“Shall I bring more?”
“Oh!”
Berserk remained near the desk as well—more interested in snacks than discussion, but present all the same. More than that, this place was growing steadily more uncomfortable. I folded my arms and watched the HP window where the downward trend had steepened. Recovery still outpaced the loss for now, yet later……
“Um……”
A priest wearing a white mass veil approached me. He was fairly tall, and the face visible beneath the veil gave an overall pale, washed-out impression.
“You appear to have accumulated much emotion. Please keep glory close and welcome peace of mind.”
Just as I found his appearance oddly nagging, he spoke those words. My sour expression must have troubled him.
That son of a bitch.
Well, that consideration aside, I am an atheist who doubts a scrap of cloth can deliver any real calm.
“May eternal rest find you, brother.”
Still, a veil meant less need to manage one’s face—definitely an advantage.
Kill him. Kill that damned bastard!
Feeling a strange unease, I nevertheless set the mass veil upon my head for the moment. Are mass veils not normally white? Do black ones even exist? I set the question aside.
Damn fool!
I vaguely recalled that black veils are worn for funeral masses, and since the giver was a priest I saw no reason to doubt.
“Hm? Demon Knight, where did you obtain that mass veil?”
Or perhaps I did. I met the eyes of the Inquisitor, who had been speaking with a cleric, and the shocked face of Kimchi Dumpling made me abandon the hypothesis at once. Reflexively I glanced back to where the priest had stood; he was already gone.
“Black is not precisely ominous… yet the order never employs black mass veils. How did you come by such a thing……?”
Your own man handed it to me……
I trimmed the sentence to fit my concept and answered flatly. Every face around me stiffened.
“A black mass veil is what a demon uses when baptizing a contractor. Or……”
“They also present it to someone they resent enough to wish dead. A declaration that a black veil fit only for demons suits you.”
At that final sentence my own face hardened.
Crazy.
“Describe the face of the priest who gave you the mass veil!”
I glared at the black veil already in the Inquisitor’s hand and ground my teeth. Then I slowly chewed and spat the words:
“Paper. Now.”
Whether this place possessed photofits or not, if not I would create the first. You who dared prod the temper of my concept—
“H-here.”
At my murderous expression the bishop carefully offered a sheet. My hand snatched it and began scratching the pen across it with irritable force.
“Oh!”
After a decade of drawing webtoons even a slow hand builds speed. In under three minutes a clear portrait emerged. The subject’s features had been distinctive; no confusion was possible.
“This man is……”
Yet Dev seemed to recognize him. Swallowing a low sound, he whispered in a somewhat hoarse voice:
“It’s the same one who approached me last time.”
Crazy. Completely insane.
“He followed us all the way from Hudelen……?”
“Wait—if he approached that bastard… is it possibly the one we heard about when we left Hudelen?”
I knew something had felt off!
Kwajik!
“You worm, how dare……!”
“A mere demon has crawled into the land of the gods?!”
In any event the incident lit the fuse for both me and the Inquisitor. However this episode unfolded, once that man was caught he would truly die.
Leviathan, that bastard—I will thrash him without fail.
Without fail.
“Keuhak!”
“I knew it would turn out this way. That’s why I told you going into the order’s territory was excessive. Hiding demon energy is hardly your strong suit.”
Watching the one who spat blood, the violet-haired figure clicked his tongue. A crow flapped beside hair that darkened toward pure black at the tips.
“Heh… heh. Well. If you had seen what I saw in there, you wouldn’t say that.”
“True enough. I’ll never have occasion to look inside a temple. Moby Dick, you go and look for yourself.”
The figure perched on the low wall with soft, curved legs crossed listened with cool indifference. At that the blood-spitting one—Moby Dick—chuckled.
“If you’d seen how the guy failed to recognize me and quietly accepted the black mass veil, Pandemonium, would you still be sitting here like this?”
“…What did you just say?”
“Hahat, hahahat!”
At the reaction of the violet-haired being—Pandemonium—Moby Dick burst into open laughter. Recalling Pandemonium’s unhidden look of greedy ecstasy, and the foolish face he himself had just witnessed, the present pain felt infinitely light. Enduring the unpleasantness and setting foot on the order’s soil had been worth it.
“Stupid Gretchen. Looking pitiful. Can’t even swallow a single vessel, fails to recognize even me, and just swallows the curse whole.”
“Ah… that bad, is it? Duke said something so I half-doubted… but tempting. Shall I take it this time?”
Moby Dick spat more blood over the pain that still refused to settle. Having suppressed his power to the utmost and swallowed several cups of poison, he would remain in this state for days… yet it did not matter.
⟨Leviathan⟩
Whether his true name had been called somewhere, he also ignored the heat that boiled up in letter form across the back of his hand. A name deliberately fixed so that only the king and the great demons would remember it—precisely to avoid such incidents whenever it was spoken—had suddenly been invoked. Moreover he had just confronted Wrath, even provoked him. The caller could be narrowed down with ease.
Moby Dick—no, to speak the true name, Leviathan—ignored the heat on his hand and tickled the jaw of his serpent. The laughter would not stop.
“This time for certain I will kill you, Gretchen.”
“Ahh, no. She is mine.”
“Hmph. If you want her, take her first.”
That damned Gretchen who, for being a powerhouse rivaling the king, had been granted every freedom and right in exchange for a single price. That damned Gretchen who always looked down from above, calling such creatures mere fish.
“But know this. I will not miss this chance—never.”
Always wanting to win, never able to win. Always forcing one to bite one’s lip—
“Mephistopheles, that son of a bitch—I will kill him without fail.”
Damn Mephistopheles.