Rest (2)
Extreme violence leaves no room for compromise. Ashuria slipped on her brass knuckles and began thrashing the man's side without mercy. She struck with the mechanical, measured rhythm of someone facing the Demon Army; the crack of breaking ribs rang out, his guts twisted, and the taste of blood welled up in his mouth.
With every blow, the impact bent the man's body a little further into a C-shape. After a string of punches had produced a gentle curve, Ashuria frowned as if the result displeased her and hammered the opposite side.
"Ghhhk…! Ngh…!"
The man's eyes rolled back. Drool spilled from his mouth. After several more symmetrical swings of her fists, he was stuck upright against the wall again. Beside them, Mille chewed dried fruit, her eyes sparkling.
Ashuria wiped the sweat from her brow and spoke.
"Doesn't a thought like this cross your mind? Why am I not dead? Getting hit like this should rupture my organs and knock me out—so why am I suffering through this fully conscious?"
She held up the golden knuckles she was wearing.
"As a person of faith, I can hardly go around killing people lightly, can I? Humans are so fragile that a single poorly placed punch can end them. That's why I developed these knuckles. I engraved a healing magic formula into the core, so that whenever I strike someone above a certain force, recovery magic activates automatically. You feel the pain, but your body doesn't break."
Tears welled in the man's eyes. Ashuria smiled as she continued.
"I can keep this up all day. So, to avoid wasting each other's time, I'd like you to answer my questions… Will you answer me honestly?"
The man nodded. The sight of her smiling face shoved right up against his was simply too terrifying. Mille pulled the rag from his mouth. Ashuria sat on an old crate and asked,
"You. You aren't working alone. Surely you have partners who run scams or make money with you. Where did you hide the money?"
At the mention of money, the man hesitated, eyes darting. Sensing his reluctance, Ashuria stood again and drove her fist into his lower abdomen with everything she had. The nauseating, agonizing sensation of his belly flesh being crushed and his guts being scooped upward made him vomit bile.
"Gwaaaargh!"
When Ashuria clenched her fist once more, the man gasped and shouted,
"I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! The place is a house with a red tent! Besides me, there's a guy who sells cheap medicine around here and another who peddles fakes! We pool our money and keep it at that house!"
Ashuria smiled, moved by the man's sincere repentance. She patted his head once and said,
"I'll put it to good use."
"Ashuria. What have you been up to?"
The Hero, who had been enthusiastically chatting with me about country life, broke out in a cold sweat the moment Ashuria arrived and slipped away from his seat. It looked like he was dodging the conversation, but I decided not to press. Everyone has a secret or two, don't they? Just as I work as a porter, the Hero might have his own reasons for having to pass himself off as a country bumpkin from the sticks.
Ashuria greeted the Hero with a brighter face than usual, and Mille trailed behind her, sniffling. The Hero looked more surprised by Mille's tears than glad to see Ashuria again.
"Mille? Why are you crying?"
"Hic… sob… I was so moved… Watching Ashuria donate all that money and say to put it toward a good cause…"
"Money?"
The Hero stared at Ashuria in surprise. Ashuria pulled the tearful Mille into a tight hug, fussing over her affectionately.
"Mille. How can your heart be so pure?"
"I—I can't breathe…!"
Only after stroking Mille until her crying stopped did Ashuria answer the questioning looks the rest of us were giving her.
"Ah, don't worry. A certain gentleman gave me a large sum and asked me to work hard for the world going forward, so I donated it all to the poor relief fund and came back."
"You did a good thing. A good thing."
With the knuckles packed away, the claim that she'd "received a donation" was remarkably persuasive. Lena nodded with a sly smile, and the Hero said with an innocent expression,
"That's amazing, Ashuria. If it were me, I don't think I would've even thought of donating."
Ashuria twisted her body this way and that as if she didn't know where to put herself under the Hero's praise, and nodded.
"Yes, well…"
Her laugh was far too sinister for a nun, so I decided I simply hadn't heard it.
The next day, a soldier knocked on the lodging door like a crowing rooster and, with a solemn face, handed the Hero a written order. The order, stamped with the royal seal, listed the next operational area. The Hero read it naturally and said to the soldier,
"Thank you for your hard work, soldier."
The soldier saluted the Hero just as naturally and called out,
"Yes, sir! Hero! Then I'll be heading back."
"Yes. Give everyone my regards."
When the Hero waved, the soldier nodded and vanished outside the lodging. Lena watched and giggled. Muttering "country bumpkin," she seemed to be thinking the same thing I was. Completely oblivious to our thoughts, the Hero turned to us with a bright face and began talking about the orders.
"In the next operational area, we'll finally be moving into the border zone occupied by the Demon Army. Our soldiers are currently facing off against a female demon named Halifa there. Apparently Halifa is defending with such vicious methods that a full frontal assault can't decide the fight. Given the nature of demons, they can't just throw regular soldiers into a special ops team, so this time we won't stop at the military camp—we'll head straight toward Halifa's formation. Of course, we'll send word separately so the unit can coordinate when we attack."
"So we become the special ops team and ambush that demon? What kind of bitch is she?"
Lena said it with a confident look. For a thief who could fly and crawl with the best of them, infiltration and assassination were what she excelled at more than anyone. The Hero looked at Lena with a trusting expression.
"They say she's a chemical warfare specialist who makes poisons. Her personal combat power is considerable too."
"So a demon who sprays poison from her body?"
The Hero shook his head at Lena's question.
"Doesn't seem like she sprays it from her body. She herself wears a gas mask or decontamination gear when she takes the field. Instead, she keeps dumping poison on the battlefield and upstream of the rivers, so the army can barely even hold the front line."
"If they do it that way, their own side must have a hard time lasting too."
The Hero nodded at my words. After all, the Demon Army's goal was to seize all human lands and build a demon paradise. Turning everything into a toxic wasteland would do them no good. The Hero said,
"Using a poison even she can't endure means the higher-ups keep pressuring her over the war situation. Even if she gets reprimanded later for using poison, she doesn't want to be seen as an incompetent commander."
"Our Hero really empathizes well with commanders' feelings."
At Lena's offhand remark, the Hero's eyes darted around before he mumbled,
".....I was the alley boss back in the countryside."
Seeing the incredulous looks flying at him from every direction, the Hero mumbled again.
"Anyway! This commander is in a nervous state right now, so she'll have set up her formation as aggressively as possible. That's why we need to hit her from the rear."
Ashuria pointed at the map and asked,
"But Hero. Isn't this region originally Imperial territory? None of us know the geography here well—how are we supposed to push into the rear?"
With the Demon King's descent, the Empire had fallen, and almost no one had escaped it safely. Every member of the current Hero's Party was from other kingdoms far from the Empire. Ashuria's point was fair.
"No. There is someone from the Empire."
At those words, the Hero looked at me. I smiled and raised both arms. Lena, Ashuria, and Mille all stared at me with round eyes.
Why do you think I was hired as the porter of the Hero's Party and followed them all the way here?
Why was I so confident I would accompany the Hero's Party all the way to the Imperial capital, even if I couldn't enter the Demon King's castle itself?
There was nothing left to hide at this point. I was from the Empire—a traitor who had fled across the border the day my homeland fell.
And now I was nothing more than a simple porter who had turned his horse's head back around to save the fallen Empire.
"I was originally from the Empire. I know Imperial geography inside and out. Even among country bumpkins, I was the diligent kind."
I pointed to a forested area on the map and continued.
"The place where the demon has set up camp is here, and if she's releasing poison along the river, going this way will make it easiest to infiltrate from the rear. If whoever's attacking from the rear moves with me, I'll assist."
"I'll go."
Lena said. I nodded, pointed to another position near the formation, and said,
"If you climb this cliff face, there's a spot with a clear view of the whole formation. Station an archer and support personnel there, and it'll be easy to disrupt the enemy lines."
"Then I should go!"
Mille said, lifting her bow. She was overflowing with motivation whenever it came to exterminating demons. The Hero nodded and added,
"Having high ground like that will make the assault easier."
And so the operational plan took shape step by step, grounded in my geographical knowledge. Since poison might have pooled in the lower areas, we planned to move through high ground as much as possible, and we decided where the two teams would split.
"That settles it. Looks like this plan will work. Ahjussi. Thanks for the hard work."
"Not at all. I ought to be useful for something like this, at least."
Ashuria, Mille, and Lena were all giving me looks that said I was full of surprises. I savored those gazes, spread my arms wide, then pointed at myself and said,
"The brain of the Hero's Party."
"Seriously, if you hadn't said that last bit, I was going to call you amazing."
I ignored Lena's grumbling.