Chapter 36
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Red Giant Mountains (1)
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It was certainly useful to have a young mage when crossing mountains.
There was a map, but there was a world of difference between crossing unfamiliar mountains with a guide and without one.
And if he turned out to be even more useful later on, they could travel together all the way south. If not, they could simply part ways.
'The benchmark...'
Blake flicked his gaze toward Lindelmann.
If he was as useful as Lindelmann, it would be worth keeping him around.
He might cause the occasional incident, but without Lindelmann's worldly knowledge, even more headaches might have cropped up.
Plus, he handled the pesky small fry on Blake's behalf.
"No, why are you looking at me...?"
Lindelmann flinched under Blake's stare, while the mage waited tensely for an answer with wide eyes.
He gave a slight nod.
"Fine. We'll travel together until we cross the mountains and reach the Bran River."
"Yes? Ah! Th-thank you! Thank you!"
The mage beamed with genuine joy.
And understandably so. For a mage who knew neither paths nor local customs after descending the mountains, a reliable companion was the most essential thing.
Including the ones who'd tormented him just before and ended up as corpses, most people he'd met since coming down were rough and vicious.
Especially the armed men.
The problem was that more than half the folks on the road were armed men, and he had to trek all the way to the distant south.
In that light, even if their first encounter was a bloody slaughterfest, this giant had effectively saved him, making him perfect companion material in every regard.
Even beyond their shared southward destination, he was the most trustworthy soul among those met post-mountains.
To become a mage required piercing insight into the essence of things, and this boy mage had remarkable perception beyond his years.
In his eyes, Blake carried a rough, shadowy aura but leaned neutral rather than outright evil.
And crucially, he showed zero interest in the boy's looks.
'This guy's trustworthy enough for now. Plus, I can keep an eye on him till the Bran River.'
"Ah, no, aren't you going to ask my opinion?"
At that, Lindelmann leaped in, aghast at adding this horrific entity—who could turn hale folk into toads—to their party.
"If you don't like it, you can go solo right now."
"Ugh!"
He heard that line all too often.
But this time, even Lindelmann wore a grave look.
'Argh! Why do these freaks keep latching on! A mage belongs gawking at Alteria nobles who treat 'em like spectacles!'
The thrill of meeting a real mage—unseen for decades—paled against the fear he might end up croaking too. He clutched his face, agonizing.
But Blake's next words cut his fervent debate short, absurdly.
"Decide fast. Those bastards we just killed mentioned Blue Petal Knights in Lancel. Looks like they've been tailing us from Dunfries. We'll probably cross paths again before White Nodden Gate."
"Gasp!"
Lindelmann sucked in a sharp breath.
"L-let's go together! I've always wanted to cross the Red Giant Mountains once. Any true knight chasing chivalry's gotta do that much, right? Hahaha!"
His bold guffaw masked a heart that just wanted to weep.
Anyone else, maybe—but bumping into the Blue Petal Knights meant near-zero odds of escaping the north alive.
"Then we're off."
With that, Blake strode ahead. Midway, something occurred to him, and he glanced back.
"By the way, mage."
"Yes?"
The mage, quick-stepping behind the scowling Lindelmann, startled and peered up at Blake.
"What's your name? I'm Blake."
"Ah! Mr. Blake. I'm Rubens—Rubens Blahan. Just call me Ruby."
The pretty-boy mage, whose name evoked ruby in ancient tongue, grinned, flashing ivory-white teeth.
Several hours after the trio shoved through unrelenting sleet to leave the village.
As night deepened toward dawn, dozens of riders stormed in.
Leading was the hook-nosed mercenary who'd fled, with a ragtag crew chasing coin and glory.
But Blake and Lindelmann had long departed—and toward the Red Giant Mountains, no less. They spat curses, clucked tongues, and quit.
Hundred gold pieces and fame from toppling a north-renowned duelist were mouthwatering, sure—but not for plunging into the Red Giant Mountains in this weather.
Two, however, skipped the village and snowplowed back to Lancel.
The pair: Blue Petal Knights.
Leaving grievously wounded Craig under Elliot's care, Roderick Swent and Jonathan Morrison had tracked Blake and Lindelmann here.
Clop-clop.
"What's your plan, sir?"
Jonathan broke the silence, breath steaming beyond his hood.
The knights had banked on catching Blake's crew in days.
Luck struck: fresh buzz in a hamlet near Lancel of mercenaries massacred by Blake's group. They spurred over at once.
But Blake and Lindelmann diving into the Red Giant Mountains wrecked it all.
Now: follow into the mountains, or ditch the chase and report to base.
"Boat to White Nodden Gate."
"To capital Alteria, then? Or straight to base?"
Jonathan took Roderick's reply as calling off the pursuit.
"Can't do that. We've nailed Prince Henrik's envoy's path at last—gotta stick on it."
"Pardon? You saying they didn't hit the Red Giant Mountains?"
"Nah, they did. That pub companion earlier seems to know the trails. Means they either perish there or emerge alive..."
"Hmm."
"If croaked, oh well. But if he crosses safe, where to next? Or why risk that hellhole at all?"
"Left right after the duel, so probably to hit destination quicker... Hmm!"
Jonathan's brows knit as realization dawned.
"Bingo. Second prince's man risks Red Giant Mountains to reach Bran River fast."
Bran River.
Empire's longest at over 1,000 kilometers, snaking central regions to Balt Inner Sea—prime trade and transit artery.
'Cross mountains, hit Bran in days. Downriver beats roads past White Nodden Gate to capital by miles.'
Thought done, Jonathan's eyes sharpened.
"Spot on. So we..."
"Highway to gate, then hightail to Elber or Rochel. Bran-bound means one of those. No intercept guarantee, but base-bound anyway—best play."
Elber, Rochel: closest Bran spots off highway.
"Catch Blake pre-capital ideal, but odds low. Dispatch rider at White Nodden Gate pronto. Our order's pull in Elber?"
"Graim Family base. Plus Viscount Luther of Bricks' Red Wind Knights. Needs captain's nod official-like, but Prince Henrik's letter en route? Vice Captain Sir Swent's call to muster."
"Good. Hustle."
"Aye! Hya!"
Knights accelerated; twin magic lanterns streaked darkness like meteors.
Peering through waning flakes, Roderick mulled.
'Blake, bear-bodied brainiac. But you'll kneel at my feet soon. That Prince Henrik letter you tote? It'll doom him—and yours ends as master's-throat-biting mutt.'
Perfectly synced, Roderick whipped his mount furiously; purple irises chilled, then dimmed.
Whoooosh!
Wind scourging the gorge—reddish rock spires stabbing skyward like spearpoints—was bitter cold.
"Grk!"
Cold supposedly done post-Northernrocks Fortress, Lindelmann ground teeth, cinching cloak collar.
Yet his eyes darted ceaselessly side to side, tension writ large—unlike usual.
Helmet jammed down (rarely worn), shield saddle-side (not rear)—primed for action, hype maxed.
Reason: Red Giant Mountains gorge dead center.
No trouble yet, but amid looming crimson crags, perils unknown lurked.
Whish!
"Urk!"
Another razor gust teared up Lindelmann; he buried face in cloak.
Turtling his neck, he side-eyed the duo ahead.
"That way over there."
"Mm."
Blake veered mount per Ruby's cue, compliant.
Half-day deep into mountains proper.
Red Giant Mountains fiercer than feared; Ruby sharper guide than guessed.
Blake, decade-plus Northern Great Mountains vet, knew paths cold—but Ruby saved serious time.
Plus, the dreaded Red Giant Mountains oddly soothed Blake.
'No human scent, scant beast tracks. Troll turf confirmed.'
(Lindelmann'd freak.) Blake scanned vigilantly.
Mount beasts over people any day.
Beasts: straightforward kill-or-be-killed.
Sustained edge felt right too.
Villages laxed him unwittingly—too cozy.
Tension lapse: cardinal Northernrocks soldier sin.
Kee-heeeng!
Ridge wind wailed ghostly, ravaging gorge.
Bucking headwinds nonstop, trio bored through tight, shadowed defile.
(Continued next time)