The Honorable Chef (3)
"No way... someone you know?"
"Uh... kinda... Della! Come here a sec..."
At Idwild's call, Della shuffled over with both hands covering her face.
"Ughhh... whyyy..."
"Della... isn't this guy the one who stayed at our inn...?"
Della peeked through her fingers at the dead rider's face.
"Right...? He checked in yesterday and left this morning..."
Della nodded, then turned away in utter disgust.
"This guy's one of our inn guests?!"
"Yeah... but... where's everyone else...?"
"Everyone else? He was alone."
"Really...? There were definitely five of them... small merchant group heading north... I opened the stable gate for them myself this morning, so I'm sure..."
So... five headed north, but only this guy came back—with half his side torn off and dead? What about the other four?
A few possibilities came to mind, but they boiled down to a handful. Either they'd run into some monster, or there'd been infighting. But looking at the rider's side wound, it was hard to imagine a human doing that much damage.
Definitely a monster. But what kind?
"We'll head to the guard post first, so grab something to cover the body."
Idwild fetched an unused blanket from the inn and draped it over the corpse. I headed straight for the guards.
The moment we arrived at the guard post, Lambert Captain—who'd already heard the news—had us carry the body to the annex behind the barracks. It was the holding cell and storage for case-related items.
Several guards spread layers of canvas on the floor and laid the body out flat. One took notes, sketching the corpse's condition.
"Hmm..."
Guard Captain Lambert stroked his chin repeatedly, scrutinizing the wound. The guts that had trailed from the side were now neatly arranged beside the body.
"I can say for sure this wasn't human work."
"I agree. Unless it's an Adat tribe giant, no one could smash bones and rip like that so crudely."
"Bear or monster, most likely. But didn't you say there were five in the group? Bears hunt solo, and long-haul merchants would be armed. How could they go down this easy?"
"Maybe this one got hit first and the rest fled... Honestly, from this alone, I can't guess what happened. We'll need to check the scene."
"You're right. Gotta see it with our own eyes."
Lambert ordered mobilization prep. When I asked for a spare horse to join, he looked puzzled.
"Investigation's guard business. You're the first witness, but no need to go that far."
"He was our inn guest. Least I can do is find out what happened."
"Fair enough. Let's go."
And so, Lambert Captain, five heavily armored guards, and I rode north.
Midsummer midday was brutally hot—the horses were soon foaming sweat and panting. The armored guards' faces were drenched.
Even in light clothes, I was dying from the sun blasting my back while riding. Couldn't imagine them.
The northern road to Fribourg took just under a day at normal pace. But we weren't going all the way. The merchants left at dawn; the lone rider reached the inn around noon. Backtracking put the incident site in rough estimate.
Sure enough, at my predicted spot, something messy littered the road ahead.
Two wagons half-smashed, "tossed" roadside. No other word—one had crashed through trees, the other fully flipped. Cargo lay shattered and scattered.
And...
"What in the world..."
I'd have cursed, but noble as ever, Lambert just sounded troubled, gazing at the bodies.
Not a dozen corpses... but four, torn into chunks. Four heads rolling confirmed it.
"On guard!"
At Lambert's order, guards drew crossbows from horseback, covering all directions. Only Lambert and I dismounted to inspect.
All showed massive tearing force. Circling them, most body parts and organs remained—ripped big, but intact.
"What do you think?"
"Not a bear, for starters."
"Why?"
"No signs of eating. A non-hungry bear wouldn't smash two wagons and slaughter four without cause. And no bear could wreck wagons like that."
Lambert nodded at my logic.
"Humans even less likely... so monster it is. Let's look closer."
No need. I spotted footprints and crouched beside one. Hand next to it—three times my palm size. Split hooves like a cow or herbivore, but definitely monster.
"Check this, Captain."
Lambert bent down. He knew it wasn't normal too.
"Not any regular beast..."
"Southern Moose footprint."
"Southern Moose? What's that?"
"Monster. Imagine a black water buffalo walking upright. Huge—adults hit four meters."
Lambert stared silently. His territory had a monster like that; his mind must be racing.
Kingdom forces split three ways: legions, guards, and secret units unknown to public. Legions only moved for external wars or existential threats. Internal issues? Guards' job. Monster hunts in territory too.
If this Southern Moose threatened Rosens' peace, Lambert had to lead his men to kill it.
Problem: it was strong enough to rip people apart. Golluks? Four or five to match one. Enough said.
But... oddity. Southern Moose lived by water, not mountains. Name-sake southern warm rivers, not chilly Buren River.
Why here? Tracks suggested one... linked to inn-visiting monsters?
Explaining the mismatch, Lambert looked baffled too.
"We'll clean here and talk to the administrator about temporarily closing the northern road."
For trade-dependent Rosens, blocking north was deadly. Past decline? Golluks sealed it.
But ignoring a killer monster for profit? No.
Leave cleanup to guards; I'd grab the Holy Sword and end it. Guards' losses till then? Heavy. And road closure killed my Asenaris investment.
I excused myself to the inn first.
Told Marim to return my horse to guards; Idwild to summon a Hell Horse. Brushed off questions with "later," grabbed the Holy Sword, and mounted.
Heading north again, Lambert and guards were returning. They scattered in panic at the Hell Horse.
Lambert yelled where to, but I ignored, galloping to the scene.
No way he'd let me hunt solo.
At the site, I leaped off, drew the Holy Sword, and slammed it into the ground. White light flowed down the blade to the earth, forming expanding circles around me.
The sword-light circles spread fast, scanning roadside, mountains, even Buren River surface.
Edge climbed a slope, crested a peak—then a brilliant pillar shot from woods beyond.
Monster detected.
Mounted the Hell Horse and charged. It bounded over rocks and trees heedless.
Hell Horses ignored world laws. In Apenzel alone, I'd have vaulted the stockade.
Straight-line leaps shot me to mid-mountain; I plunged sword-first into the pillar's center.
Crashing through trees, a cry rang out—the monster fled.
Holy Sword raised overhead, I stared blankly at its retreating back.
"Uh... what the hell is that...?"