To the Sage's Forest (3)
After several days of riding while relying on a crude map so rough it was embarrassing to even call it one, I finally reached the edge of the forest—but all I felt in my heart was unease.
Is this really the place?
There was nothing wrong with the forest itself. It felt utterly ordinary, no different from any other woodland.
Even a forest called the Sage's Forest should look mundane on the outside, but the reason I sensed something off was the village nearby.
About thirty minutes away by horse, the village appeared just as ordinary as the forest at first glance.
It reminded me of one of the villages back home, nestled near the mountains.
But why the hell is there a village next to a forest crawling with dangerous monsters?
The wooden palisade surrounding it looked so flimsy, even wild dogs or goblins could probably smash right through.
The map did mark a house icon near the forest, but I'd assumed it was just a small cabin. Who knew there'd be a whole village?
Guess I should check it out...
If there's an inn with stables, I could leave Silence there and head into the forest alone.
Plus, being right next to the Sage's Forest, they might have info I don't know about.
Decision made, I spurred Silence straight toward the village in the distance.
The closer I got, the more it seemed like a perfectly normal place—old folks lounging on tree stumps as chairs, kids running around happily.
But that impression shifted a bit once I reached the village center.
What the hell is that?
Standing in the middle was something you'd see in any big city, but not in a backwater rural village like this.
A massive bronze statue, cast in somber tones.
Crafted by a skilled artisan, no doubt—the figure looked impressively lifelike: a man riding a wolf.
...Is that the guy they call Pier?
Approaching the statue, I checked the inscription on the pedestal. Sure enough, it was a statue of the magic swordsman Pier von Pier.
Pier astride his wolf, staff raised high in one hand—just like the stories said he favored magic over the sword in life.
But why the hell is something like this in a rural village...?
Statues like that weren't cheap. The materials alone were pricey, and you needed a top-notch sculptor to do it right.
Hell, even when I wanted to commission a Battōjutsu statue to honor the art, I couldn't afford it.
No way a struggling village like this could pull off something so grand.
"Hey, gramps! Mind if I ask you something?"
"Hm? What is it, lad...?"
I called out to an old man idling on a tree stump.
"What's with this statue? No offense, but it's way too impressive for a village like this."
"What's wrong with a statue? Touristy spots have 'em all the time. That the issue?"
"......Touristy?"
I tilted my head, thinking it was a joke, when the old man playfully tapped his mouth and chuckled.
"Whoops... 'Touristy' was a bit too flippant, eh? If you want the details, skip this old fogey and head to the souvenir shop over there."
"......Souvenir shop?"
With that, he got up and shuffled off somewhere. I headed to the shop he'd pointed out, feeling a bit bewildered.
"Oh? W-Welcome!"
The man, who'd been half-asleep with his face planted on the counter, jolted upright. Drool still clung to his mouth—he'd probably have kept snoozing if I hadn't shown up.
"Sorry for the ugly sight. What can I do for you? Our bestseller souvenirs are right here—"
"Actually... I have a few questions."
His face openly soured with annoyance. Not liking that, I slapped a few gold coins on the counter.
"Please answer sincerely."
His eyes lit up at the gold, and his tone turned obsequious in an instant.
"Of course, of course! Ask away—I'll even tell you my wife's panty color if you want!"
"No need for that... This place looks like a tourist spot. What's the deal?"
"Makes me feel guilty exploiting a great man's death, but lots of magic swordsmen come to pay respects to Lord Pier."
Every year around the estimated anniversary of Pier's death, droves of magic swordsmen visit to honor the legendary figure.
Most were nobles, and nobles spend big. The money pouring in during that short window was more than enough to keep the village afloat.
Proof? That magnificent statue in the square.
"But if it's the anniversary, why 'estimated'?"
"Yeah, no one knows the exact date he passed."
Pier's death was shrouded in mystery. Why he'd come to this forest, how he'd died—everything was veiled in secrecy.
Rumors flew: Was he still alive? Assassinated by a rival swordsman? It caused a huge uproar back then, but nothing was ever confirmed.
"If no one knows how he died, how do you know he did die?"
"We have credible testimony."
A few days after Pier entered the forest, the high earth spirit he'd contracted with appeared to the village chief and delivered the news.
Few believed it at first, but as weeks turned to months with no sign of him, everyone had to accept it.
Search parties went in to recover the body multiple times, but they all got wiped out—only one survivor made it back.
"Did he bring back info on Lobo?"
"You know about Lobo?! Thanks to what he reported, we learned the forest has a demon wolf."
Unable to accept its master's death, Pier's loyal wolf turned into a monster, ripping apart any foe that approached.
A knight order was dispatched to subdue the demonized Lobo, but after their first encounter, they retreated, and the mission was scrapped.
The losses would outweigh any gains.
The king himself ruled that the cost of slaying Lobo exceeded the value of Pier's renowned equipment.
"That was 200 years ago. Fools still show up now and then, dreaming of felling Lobo and claiming the hero's gear, but none succeed."
Some tried searching for the body while avoiding Lobo, but they all ended up as wolf chow.
"So why live here at all? What if Lobo comes down to the village?"
"No way! Hasn't happened in 200 years. Lobo never leaves the deep forest."
Hence the rumor: Pier's body lies in Lobo's territory.
Nodding as I pieced together the story of Pier and Lobo, the shopkeeper eyed me cautiously.
"So... are you here to subdue Lobo, sir?"
"What else? Need materials for a new sword."
"Just for that?! Give it up! You're young—value your life!"
Just for that? If it means a more satisfying Battōjutsu draw, risking my life is a bargain.
The poor guy, stuck in this backwater, wouldn't understand. I replied kindly.
"For a more satisfying Battōjutsu? My life is a small price."
"......Pardon?"
Die young or old—death's death. Might as well live more satisfyingly first.
Ignoring the shopkeeper's pleas, I found a stable attached to the pilgrims' inn and left Silence there.
Silence was an excellent steed, but no match for a demon wolf rivaling a young dragon in speed.
As I prepared to leave, Lobo's tale crossed my mind. I glanced back at Silence.
If I die, will this guy turn demonic and guard my corpse too?
Not that it'd happen, but after all I've done for him? Of course he would.
I didn't summon him personally, but I'd even named him something cool in my head: Battōjutsu Peak. No—Silence.
Stroking his head, Silence gave me a deadpan look.
Tsundere, huh? Kinda cute side to him.
Leaving Silence behind once more, I plunged into the Sage's Forest, navigating the treacherous paths toward Lobo's depths.
An hour later, after pushing deeper into the woods—
"...Fuck, I'm lost."
Lost. Completely.