Reminds Me of the Old Days (9)
It was several torches. They bobbed frantically this way and that, gradually drawing closer. I reached over my shoulder and gripped the hilt of the Holy Sword. Jagged shards of curse magic formed at Idwild's wrist, while a small vortex of mana swirled in Brione's hand.
As the torches approached, urgent voices carried through the air.
"Κάνε λίγο υπομονή!"
"Να πάρει...! Η επιδερμίδα είναι τόσο κακή."
It was a strange language I'd never heard before in my life.
"What... what is it? Doesn't seem like monsters..."
Idwild muttered anxiously, clutching her curse shards.
Soon, figures emerged from the mist beyond the torchlight—bearded men in worn leather armor, armed haphazardly. They looked like mercenaries or hunters, their faces and clothes splattered with fresh crimson blood. Spotting us, they startled and drew their weapons.
"Τι είναι αυτά τα μικρά?!"
"Τι κάνουν αυτοί? 'νθρωπος ή τέρας!"
Shouting in that incomprehensible tongue, they seemed ready to charge us at any moment.
"Uh... what do we do, Bertrand...?"
Idwild and Brione turned to me. I kept my grip on the Holy Sword's hilt, scrutinizing them closely. Behind the men blocking our path, more of their group appeared—three in total: one carrying someone on his back, assisted by the others. An injured comrade, then.
"I'll talk to them."
I released the hilt, raised both hands, and stepped forward. Perhaps because I looked like a child, they stayed wary but didn't act rashly.
"We don't want to fight. We're just travelers."
The men exchanged glances at my words. One stepped slightly forward and spoke.
"Verabche?"
"That's right. Do you understand me?"
"You guys new? No right, stab."
The man gestured at us with his sword tip, fumbling through the common tongue.
"We're travelers who came into this forest looking for something. We have identification papers... though I doubt you can read them."
I pulled out my papers. He squinted at them from a distance.
"Why here?"
"We're looking for the old mage's lab called Mideronde."
"Mideronde? Mage? Sound familiar... hmm... you also mages?"
"Not exactly—one of us is."
I pointed to the glowing orbs floating around us. Only then did his expression ease a bit. He sheathed his sword and introduced himself.
"We Smegian hunters, yes. Hunt monsters, sell for money?"
Semada Forest was so vast it spanned borders of multiple kingdoms. These seemed to be monster hunters from the kingdom of Smegia.
"Many monsters here. But friend hurt."
"Hurt...? Oh, you mean injured."
"Yes yes. So must go fast."
I leaned sideways for a better look at the injured man on the back. His whole body was charred black like he'd been burned, dried out like a mummy.
"What... what kind of monster did that...?"
"Don't know. Never seen monster like that. Fucking fast monster."
Fucking fast? Ah, yeah. But seriously, what the hell happened? If it was something in the forest, we needed to know before going deeper.
"Can our mage take a look? Might be able to do some emergency aid."
"Oh! Mage!"
The man beamed and turned to his group.
"Λέγεται ότι είναι εδώ ένας μάγος! Φέρτε αυτό το κάθαρμα εδώ!"
At his words, the hunters lowered their weapons and stepped aside, clearing a path.
"Go check it out. We need to know what's going on."
"Who are these guys?"
"Smegian monster hunters. They say a comrade got hit by some new monster they've never seen."
We approached the injured man on the back. Up close, his condition was even more gruesome—skin completely blackened, body skeletal to the point his bones showed, like it might shatter any second. Brione clamped a hand over her mouth and dry-heaved.
"Know what it is?"
"Never seen anything like this. Brione? Any idea?"
But Brione just shook her head, still covering her mouth.
"This... it's life force drain..."
Surprisingly, it was Idwild who spoke up. Unlike Brione, she showed no reaction, just poked the man's skin with dull curiosity.
"There's a black magic curse like this... When you get hit, it drains all the vitality from your body... y'know, your life force... until you die... and you end up looking exactly like this... But... I'm not sure if it's actually black magic..."
I reached over my shoulder and gripped the Holy Sword's hilt again. Then, oily black residue clinging to the man's body became vividly clear.
"It's black magic, alright."
"Black mage? This black magic? Then what do?"
Idwild answered the man's question.
"He needs holy healing as soon as possible... That's the only way... Holy power neutralizes black magic... But even then... not sure if he'll survive..."
"Oh nooo..."
Despair shadowed the hunter's face.
"Temple far... take long..."
I considered using the Holy Sword's holy power, but its intensity dwarfed saintesses'—too risky, unknown side effects. Worst case, the weakened man might not survive it. Better to send him to a temple.
"I'll open a dimensional gate straight to the nearest temple. Use that."
"Oh! Really help?"
I glanced at Brione, who looked queasy but flicked her fingers to conjure the gate. Going out from the forest, not in, so no risk of obstacles blocking it—those only jammed when exit coordinates were uncertain.
The hunters gawked at the brilliantly spinning, glowing portal, frozen in awe.
"Too much thanks, you guys! Least tell names?"
"Bertrand from Rosens. Innkeeper."
"Someday repay."
I grabbed the turning hunter.
"By the way, know anything about that mage's lab in the forest?"
"Hmm... no know that. Sorry."
No surprise—hunters wouldn't know what even mages didn't. We watched them file through the gate one by one. After the last waved and vanished, Brione dissipated it.
Darkness crashed down with the gate's disappearance. Brione conjured more orbs and floated them up.
I swatted away an orb drifting in my face.
"Black mage in this forest? Idwild, any idea?"
"Dunno... Black mages don't know each other well... We all hide..."
Brione muttered.
"Just like cockroaches."
"Shut it, Brione. You couldn't do shit for one injured guy, now you're chatty."
"I'm a mage, not a black mage!"
Brione bristled at the comparison. Idwild glanced nervously at her.
"Sorry, Brione... Don't get mad... Just guessed 'cause it seemed like black magic..."
I sighed softly at Idwild scratching her head.
"That black mage or whatever was super fast, they said. Got any protection spells?"
"Have some, but can't use while moving."
"Same as Holy Sword barrier. Guess we're on our own. Keep eyes peeled."
The sun hung midday high, casting faint slivers of light through the forest. We found a spot ringed by massive trees, backs protected, and settled.
Blanket down, magic fire lit, ingredients from the staff prepped. None of the other two could cook, so child-sized me had to muscle through it. Menu: stewed porridge crammed with jerky, rice, whatever fit. Ugly but well-salted, tasted fine.
"This really brings back old days, Bertrand. Back then, camping, you'd cook like this."
Brione spoke up suddenly, watching Idwild insistently spoon-feeding me despite my protests.
"Nights by the campfire, eating, talking, then all piling into one tent..."
"Cut the bullshit. When did we ever share a tent?"
I shut her down flat.
"Eat up and move. This dark in daylight—imagine nightfall."
"Fine..."
Brione went quiet, slurping porridge. Idwild kept feeding me, wiping my mouth with her sleeve. Brione eyed the gentle scene sidelong.
"Aaaahhh!!!"
Suddenly, a bizarre scream echoed from afar. That direction was an approach out of sight—we'd rigged it with Beldra's Curse Rope and trap magic just in case.