Malice, Finally (3)
Quite some time had passed since they left the Church Territory, and night had long since fallen.
With winter having set in, dry straw was the one thing that could be found without any trouble at all, so Yona scraped the straw together with her feet, piled it into a mound, and plopped down in front of it.
In the meantime, Alec and Kayak had trampled the ground around them flat, and had gathered kindling from bone-dry branches, snapping off some of the trees outright with the weapons they carried to collect firewood.
"Whoo, phooo— phoooow."
A few strikes of the portable flint sent a spark into the straw, and smoke began to rise.
Yona held a fistful of straw up to catch the spark while nervously puffing breath after breath onto it, terrified that the ember might go out.
"Ah, there we go."
Flames bloomed up from the straw bundle.
It was winter, and it hadn't rained in ages, so the thoroughly dry branches caught at once — the moment she pushed the burning straw into them, smoke billowed up and the fire began to climb. The orange flames were already nibbling away at the kindling, devouring it steadily.
The fire roared so eagerly that the branches serving as firewood went up in a bright, hungry blaze the second they were tossed in.
"Think this'll do for now."
Kayak emerged carrying an armful of firewood.
The two axes slung across his back caught the moonlight, flashing with a murderous gleam.
"This should be plenty, I suppose. Shame the axe's grand debut is going to be chopping firewood, though, eh?"
Yona grinned slyly, teasing him.
The cathedral armory hadn't carried a single two-handed weapon.
The standard armament of a Paladin Knight was a shield paired with a mace or a morningstar, so the armory held no two-handed arms that couldn't be wielded alongside a shield.
They did have axes, however — which was why Kayak had walked away with two one-handed axes instead of a two-handed axe or a warhammer.
"Well, this is what axes were made for in the first place, no? What's there to be disappointed about?"
Looking entirely unbothered, Kayak dumped his armful of wood onto the fire and stacked it up to a reasonable height.
Then he settled down beside it with his chin in his hand, basking in the warmth.
"There wasn't a single spot around here to draw water from."
Alec appeared through the brush beyond the grass, returning from his survey of the surroundings.
He'd wandered around looking for water to boil for dinner, but no matter how far he ranged, there wasn't a river in sight — not even so much as a pond.
"Ah, forget it, just make do. We've got canteens, so drinking water's covered."
At Yona's words, Alec scratched his head and came over to the campfire, taking stock of the group.
With James gone, they'd dwindled to three — barely enough to call a party anymore. Yona had already claimed the spot directly in front of the fire.
She'd taken the fallen log that had been lying at this campsite and made it her chair outright, building the fire just in front of it, and Kayak had laid himself down on a bed of firewood at a comfortable angle.
Alec alone simply dropped onto the bare ground.
"Ah, this... hmm..."
Yona pulled a bundle out of the backpack she'd been hauling around and spread it open.
Field rations, so they claimed — purchased that very morning from the shop inside the cathedral before departure. But when she actually unfolded the wrapping, the whole spread amounted to a few bricks of rock-hard bread, some jerky, and a handful of dried fruit that someone had apparently thrown in as dessert.
"Hmm..."
"Hm."
Alec and Kayak peered into the bundle, then fell silent, unable to bring themselves to say anything.
"...Weren't these the things we used to eat all the time and love? Then why do they look so damn unappetizing right now?"
Yona's voice was thick with dissatisfaction, and the same grumbling hung over Kayak and Alec alike.
Field rations like these were hardly a novelty from their adventuring days.
And honestly, the rations spilling out of this bundle weren't even bad — the bread, at least, had a pale golden-brown hue that clearly showed someone had put real care into it.
As for the jerky, it was well-dried and hadn't been made with cheap sauce, going by the fact that it didn't smell off in the least.
"The jerky's... well, it's miles better than that garbage jerky we used to buy in Evian, I'll give it that."
Alec was right — by any measure this was far superior to what they'd eaten in Evian. And yet somehow, nobody wanted to eat it.
"We've just been eating too well lately. Our palates have gotten spoiled, that's all."
Kayak hit the nail on the head.
In Evian, their everyday fare had been things like the Perpetual Stew, so field rations hadn't been any real step down — they'd eaten them without complaint.
But in the stretch between Carpatia Port and the cathedral, they'd feasted on every delicacy the road could offer. Of course their tastes had grown picky.
"...Let's just eat, then. Whatever. Fill the belly and call it done."
And so the meal began.
They dampened the bread with water from their canteens and tore off pieces, and nibbling jerky between bites added a pleasant saltiness that made it go down easily enough. Gnawing the dried fruit bit by bit with their front teeth, even the sugar tasted pretty decent. All in all, it was an edible meal.
"I wonder how far we have to go."
"Hm, let's see."
Kayak pulled a map out of his backpack.
The very same map he'd been carrying when they'd left Evian.
He'd received it from James that morning as they departed the cathedral.
"Either way, the road cuts straight across the Medial Plain, so we just keep going. No monsters on the way, either."
"No monsters?"
Yona perked up at that.
This was a world where monsters swarmed every corner of it. They'd run into plenty on the way from Evian to Carpatia Port alone.
So when Kayak declared so confidently that there'd be no monsters on this road, Yona couldn't help but be curious.
"The Medial Plain is the finest granary on the whole Northern Continent — richer even than the Emporus Steppe. It's because of this land that the Carpathia Empire of All Humanity can even exist. You think monsters would be allowed to set up shop somewhere like that? You'd struggle to find a wild orc out here. The moment one shows its face, the adventurers — and the imperial garrisons stationed nearby — will sweep it away before it can take two steps."
"Wha... really?"
Hearing it was one thing; believing it was another.
This was Yona's first time even leaving Evian, after all — she had far more unknowns than knowns.
"You should take this opportunity to broaden your horizons, Yona. What kind of adventurer knows nothing of the world beyond Evian?"
Kayak chided her with a chuckle.
He wasn't exactly wrong, so Yona had no comeback to offer.
She'd only been in this world for three years now, with a fourth fast approaching.
All she'd done in that time was adapt in Evian and manage not to die.
Sure, that felt like enough — but then again, Kayak wasn't wrong either.
"...I'm broadening them right now, so there."
And just like that, Yona deflated, sulking in an instant.
Alec watched her quietly.
Honestly, what an expressive girl she was.
She never bothered to hide what she felt, far more comfortable wearing her heart on her sleeve.
True, it had started with him chasing after her for her looks — but by now, her personality as Yona-the-woman had come to charm him even more than her face did.
Not that he believed a word of this claim that she used to be a man. But so what? What of it?
If he just kept pace with her rhythm, kept tagging along beside her, one day Yona would come around and accept him.
Which was exactly why he hated seeing her mope like this.
"So how far is it, then?"
"If nothing goes wrong, and if we move briskly, about ten days. The route runs straight on the map, and there shouldn't be any trouble along the way."
"Like you could know that. What about that priestess, Anankaya? Even she was worried about monsters attacking villages more and more these days."
"Well, no one can read what tomorrow brings. I don't see the future, so I won't claim to know."
Kayak shrugged.
While Yona had been running herself ragged all over the cathedral, Kayak and Alec hadn't exactly been idle either.
They'd struck up conversations with the priests wherever they could, working hard to get at least a rough picture of how the continent was faring these days.
The monsters were in full rampage, they'd heard.
It was now common knowledge that Semek had been overrun. Voices thick with anxiety were rising from every quarter — murmurs that the Heavenly God had abandoned them once more, that the Era of No Echo might be dawning again.
And above all, there was the fact that the demi-human nations hostile to the empire had abruptly granted the Heavenly God Religion permission to proselytize. Some whispered there had to be some hidden design behind it — but not a single shred of evidence had surfaced.
Only one thing was certain: the monsters were raging far worse than anyone realized.
Yona burrowed into her bedroll and suddenly felt how empty it was.
The sleeping bag she'd always shared with Rubina wrapped in her arms now felt all the more hollow for her absence.
It was a sleeping bag she should have pulled up over her face, but tonight Yona lay with only her head poking out, gazing up at the night sky.
Was Rubina asleep by now?
It had only been two days at the orphanage — maybe she hadn't settled in enough yet to sleep properly.
Yona rolled over.
Even so, the hollow ache wouldn't fade.
This emptiness, she thought, was going to linger a long while.
"Lizard."
"What is it?"
Alec's voice drifted over from where he lay nearby, wrapped in his own bedroll.
So did Kayak's sulky one — he'd drawn the first watch.
"Is the campfire okay?"
"No problems whatsoever."
"That's odd. I keep smelling something strange, though."
Now that he mentioned it, there did seem to be a smell in the air.
A strangely acrid scent, like something burning.
Like sulfur, almost.