40. The Pursuers, Again (6)
The slanting light of late afternoon cast the mountain's shadow across the fields below.
Beneath peaks that shoulder against a cloudless sky, a broad expanse of wheat spread out. Half of it, trampled and burned, was little more than churned dirt — but the other half still waved gold, heavy with hope.
A wind blowing up from the far south brushed across the grain and climbed the steep ridgeline. It reached a man standing on the cliff's edge of one of those peaks as well.
The one-eyed bounty hunter savored the vitality and hope it carried for all of a moment — then spat, tk.
A tall young man draped in a cloak approached him.
"Dirk, sir."
The one-eyed man glanced sideways at the young man, then turned his gaze back to the mountain below.
With the brush low and sparse, almost nothing obstructed the view. A perfect vantage point, commanding the mountain's base at a single glance.
"Where are they?"
"They've stopped on the mountain path."
"The path?"
"The spot where the corpses were."
His sharp eye traced the trail winding down the mountainside. Then something caught his attention, and Dirk frowned slightly.
"They're building a fire."
"...Have they caught on?"
"Perhaps."
"I'll have Eben send up a familiar."
"No."
Watching the smoke blooming over the mountain pass, Dirk scratched beneath his eyepatch.
"Three mages, plus a druid. Too dangerous."
"Then what do we do?"
"...Call the ones across the way back."
"Right now, sir?"
"Yes. Send word that they're to tighten the noose from behind. Tell them to hurry as well — they need to move before the fire blocks the road."
"Understood."
"And."
Dirk drew something from his coat and handed it to the young man.
"...What is this?"
"A 'Guiding Rod.' Watch closely — when it lights up, hurl it at them."
The young man fiddled with the sliver of metal he'd been handed, then cast a sidelong glance at the rock face behind Dirk.
"Will they be stepping in themselves?"
"Probably."
"...That'll be rather dangerous, won't it."
"That's why I brought the mercenaries. Don't get yourself caught up in magic playing hero — just direct things from the back."
Once the young man withdrew, Dirk pulled his cloak tight and turned away. Stepping up to the cliff wall, he wedged his shoulder into a narrow crevice between the rocks.
Shoook.
As Dirk's body squeezed through the small gap, a long passage revealed itself. A cave, hidden with exquisite care.
After walking some way down the passage, he arrived at a fairly spacious cavern. Small tongues of flame hung suspended in the air, driving back the darkness of the rock hollow.
Dirk inclined his head slightly toward the innermost of the four figures in the cavern.
"The preparations are complete."
"...That was quick."
All four figures were dressed in a manner that marked them as mages at a glance.
Three wore ash-gray robes with hoods drawn deep over their faces, while the middle-aged man who had sneered at Dirk wore a blue robe and a wide-brimmed pointed hat, leaning on a long steel staff.
"Thank the gods this tedious escort won't last two full months."
"...I feel the same, Master Weedal."
When Dirk answered with a blank face, the staff-bearing mage studied him in silence.
"...So you do mean to make us step in after all?"
"That is my hope, yes."
"Shameless to the very bone."
"I ask your understanding. There was an error in the information provided about our target."
At Dirk's flat response, one of the hooded figures suddenly bristled.
"Error or not, that bitch is a heretic all the same. Three hundred gold sovereigns, and you can't even catch one woman?"
It was a young woman's voice. The mage with the steel staff turned a stern tone on her.
"Silence, Olide."
"Aren't you angry, Master? They put on such a show about black wolves and whatnot, caught this and that as it suited them — and now that the real work's here, they want to put us to work instead."
Despite the woman's reproach, Dirk simply stood there, unmoving.
...Endure it. The fool who made the mistake was me.
Two and a half months ago, while searching the Leadburn region, Dirk had passed through a village called 'Inberry.' There he'd met a cold-faced knight, a hulking barbarian, and a golden-haired girl.
And I couldn't remember it. If only it had come back to me before the captain took to her bed...
Afterward, when he'd been briefed on the new target — a mage by the name of 'Erenar Radakalin' — Dirk had completely forgotten the three people he'd met in Inberry.
The blood-soaked swordsman, the red bear, the Fire Witch — anyone could have seen it. And I couldn't remember. Idiot.
Swallowing the belated self-reproach, Dirk broke into an easy smile.
"I understand Lady Olide's anger, but I too did my utmost."
"Pent up in this rat hole with your employers, and you call that your best?"
When the woman called Olide flared up a second time, the steel-staff mage intervened.
"Enough. You can berate him later, Olide. What matters now is catching the traitor and recovering the forbidden tome."
"...Whew. Yes, I understand."
With the situation settled, Dirk exhaled a secret breath of relief and, outwardly composed, led the mages onward.
La-Palais Palace is renowned for its powerful battle mages. And one who holds the title of Master among them...
Perhaps he felt the single eye fixed on him, for Master Weedal scowled.
"Something wrong?"
"...No. Nothing at all."
Dirk smiled faintly.
I'm looking forward to it.
"Hurry, please. It will begin soon."
Kyeeeek—!
A monster's shriek rang out from somewhere — a goblin's scream, by the sound of it, from some small wretch.
The cry was quickly swallowed by a chorus of other noises. The great fire blooming over the mountain pass had the whole slope wide awake.
That fire was burning nothing other than the corpses of the Anupards. Offerings once laid before an unknown presence were now being devoured by flame.
It was a fire Utekwai had insisted upon. All that racket about needing to erase the ominous traces — in the end, we'd had no choice but to go along with him.
We'd taken various precautions, so the blaze consumed only the corpses and was already dying down — but the wild beasts and monsters knew nothing of the circumstances. They simply fled the heat in a noisy scramble.
From somewhere in the brush of that chaotic slope, I was holding my breath and moving forward.
Crack.
«Ugh.»
I'd been as careful as I could manage, but some branch or other snapped loudly underfoot. Moving quietly was no easy feat when you were wearing heavy plate and hobnailed boots.
Luckily, the surroundings were noisy enough that I could ignore it and keep walking. After a while, Mungchi, who was leading the way, gestured to me and whispered.
"Herey."
Hiding in the brush like a black panther, Mungchi raised a hand and pointed. I stopped at once and looked.
A short distance down from the path descending the mountainside, mercenaries were lying in wait. A group of a little over twenty, using shallow pits and fallen stumps as cover for their ambush.
I crept over to Mungchi and asked,
"That's all of them?"
It was barely more than a murmur, but the girl somehow understood and nodded.
"Resty went down. Took the doggies down too, they did."
"Went down, huh..."
I studied the slope below the spot where the mercenaries lay hidden.
From here the thick brush blocked the view, but a little farther down it would open into a low hill that was as good as flat ground.
While I was deliberating, two figures caught up behind us — Cole, an arrow held between his teeth, and freckled Mira, wearing only leathers in place of armor.
I made my decision quickly, sent the two of them around the other side, and advanced on the mercenaries with Mungchi.
«......Ugh.»
......"Hm."
There was a familiar face among the mercenaries. A man with a movie star's looks — Regen, I believe his name was.
I quietly drew Hrunting and drew close to Mungchi, whispering.
"You see him? The one without a helm."
"Mungchi is—?"
Beneath her hood pulled low, small lips fumbled about in a flurry.
"......Uuu, yes, seeing him, I see him."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothingy, nothing is......"
Giving her a sideways look as she hunched her shoulders for some reason, I continued what I'd been saying.
"That guy's the leader here. When I charge in, you take him first."
"Yes."
Mungchi nodded promptly and in the next instant her body shot forward. Even climbing a pine two handspans thick, she made not the slightest sound.
...Nothing but a monkey, that one.
Once Mungchi had gone to ground in the tree, I counted silently for a moment — waiting for Cole and Mira to get into position.
When I hit twenty, I sprang out in front of them. I didn't shout, but I made no particular effort to muffle my footsteps either.
"...Uh, uhh?"
A few mercenaries looking my way let out dumbstruck noises. Swelling my thighs with power, I plunged into the middle of their ambush positions.
"Oh, what the fuck — it's him—!"
By the time someone screamed, two mercenaries had already collapsed.
In that brief span, Hrunting had carved through a throat and a belly once apiece, and now flicked its tongue, gleaming a brilliant red.
"Kill him!"
Taking the luscious screaming as my signal, I began to leap.
I raised my shield firmly and caught a crossbow bolt flying in from somewhere. Dodging a long-hafted axe thrust from the front, I simultaneously stamped down on the back of the axe head.
"Ugh, you son of a—"
The mercenary with the shattered front teeth pulled at his axe haft with all his strength, but the axe beneath my boot didn't budge an inch. deflecting an iron cudgel stabbing in from my side, I drove Hrunting between his broken teeth.
"Khhk—"
With the blade buried deep, I tore the blood-fountaining head to the side.
Shwack—
The moment red blood fanned out into the air, I detonated its blood energy.
BOOM!
Blood Burst.
The droplets exploded outward as if fired from a shotgun, sweeping everything ahead of me.
"Ghak—!"
"Aargh, my—my eyes!"
They were decently equipped, so most of the droplets were blocked by thick armor.
But the joints covered by only cloth or leather, the faces exposed beneath helms — they were shredded as if raked by razor talons, left a mangled mess.
"Whew."
As the reek of blood hit me in a rush, something hot surged up from my lower belly. I wanted to trigger Thirst right then and there, dye my vision red...
No — no need to force it.
Swallowing, I thrust out my left arm. I yanked a mercenary clutching at his eyes toward me and crushed his throat with my arm.
Thud-thud-thunk!
"Ggaaakh!"
Three or four crossbow bolts that happened to be flying in buried themselves one after another in his chest and stomach. Gripping my meat shield firmly, I dove into the middle of the enemies.
Veterans to the last, the mercenaries didn't give ground easily. They pressed in, leveraging solid armor and sheer numbers — experienced, and damned tricky.
"Shield-bearers, forward!"
By the time I'd felled four more, Regen had grasped the situation and started bellowing orders.
It didn't last long. Something dropped with a whip from above and landed on Regen's shoulder.
"H-huh?"
And before Regen could even lift his head, a sharp blade stabbed into his neck again and again.
Thud, thud!
"Khhk—"
The moment his handsome face warped into an ugly ruin, his men shrieked.
"Eek — Regen!"
"Who the hell is that girl?!"
Even as the startled mercenaries came charging in, Mungchi, crouched atop Regen's shoulder, was the very picture of calm.
Kicking off the corpse as it crumpled, blood gushing from its neck, she rolled deftly across the ground — and even mid-roll, she flung a dagger that buried itself in the nape of a crossbowman busy reloading.
"Fuck! Grab her! She killed the captain!"
"The knight first, you goddamn idiots!"
Wielding sword and axe, the mercenaries clamored to catch her.
But Mungchi slipped away with unearthly grace, hurling herself at the crossbowmen — slashing with a short blade, throwing daggers, snapping out kicks — cutting down three crossbowmen in the blink of an eye.
And by the time she flung herself back into cover behind me, only four mercenaries were left standing.
"Hm. Finished already?"
At the voice from behind, I turned to find Utekwai emerging from the brush.
"Few enemies."
I nodded and held out my hand to Steedman, the baldy, who'd just stepped out after him. He trotted over promptly and passed me the javelin slung across his shoulder.
"The rest must've already gone down. I'd say they're waiting for us down below."
As the rest of our party filed out behind Utekwai, the mercenaries — having lost every one of their comrades — broke and ran.
"Hnup."
My javelin, thrown in a single economical motion, punched through one mercenary's back.
Hm. I was aiming for the neck.
Talking while I aimed threw it off. It had gone clean through his mail front and back, so the head would be ruined for reuse.
"Tch. We burned that fire for nothing."
"We cleansed wicked offering. Nothing to regret."
Arrows flew one after another at the three fleeing men. Two dropped to the shafts, and then freckled Mira, appearing from out of nowhere, let out a sharp battle cry and pounced on the last one.
"You could've burned it after we'd dealt with all the mercenaries. If we'd left them complacent, this whole thing would've been far easier."
"Could not waste time. If left, Mother would be angry."
"......Gh—"
I scratched my eyebrow and shut my mouth. Picking a fight when Utekwai invoked his Mother was never a wise move.
"Enemies are gathering, I'm told."
Zanavas, a tiny thrush cradled in his arms, was gazing at another thrush. When he murmured something, the bird in his arms wobbled for a moment, then beat its wings to follow the larger one.
"They say there are a great many people in armor."
"Roughly how many?"
"They do not count people precisely. One or ten, the threat is the same to them."
"...Then there's nothing for it. We'll have to go down and see."
Whoever was waiting at the foot of the slope was probably the mercenaries under Randal. Since we'd just killed Regen, I'd say it was near certain.
What I couldn't fathom was why they'd attack us. Not that I didn't know their motive — I didn't understand what they thought they were banking on.
For mercenaries — mongrels, all of them — to throw themselves at a party as dangerous as ours...
Hm, to put it plainly, it was irrational. Mercenaries aren't the type to brave death to settle a grudge.
They clearly had an ace in the hole. I just couldn't tell what it was.
Ellen, who had been silent until now, spoke up abruptly.
"Something feels ominous."
"What does?"
"...I don't know."
What's that supposed to mean?
When I gave her a bewildered look, Ellen's lips quivered before she let out a sigh.
"My heart feels strangely heavy. And I keep getting this itch, this crawling sense of unease."
"...Hm, I see?"
I might have dismissed it from anyone else, but coming from Ellen, it wasn't so easily waved away.
Just as Utekwai and Mungchi possessed superhuman strength and agility, Ellen carried an abnormally high well of mana.
High mana lets you see things ordinary people cannot. It was only natural I couldn't laugh off her unease.
Besides, I'd been feeling an unspoken disquiet of my own, which made Ellen's words feel all the more ominous.
"...All right."
After a moment's deliberation, I called the party together.