Comrades
“E-Excuse me...” the coachman stammered, his voice barely carrying.
Crash! Crack!
It was hard to hear him over the roar of meteor-like boulders raining down around the carriage.
“Can't we just stop here? The weather is... it's just too brutal...”
“What? Didn't you know what you were getting into? You took the money, and you promised to take us all the way to Horoljulol.”
“But...”
—RUUUUMBLE!
The ground split open just a few paces ahead, yawning like a bottomless maw ready to swallow them whole.
“A-Are you trying to get me and my horses killed?! For a measly three gold, this is insane...”
“You're not going to die, so just keep driving straight.”
“Ugh...”
The coachman groaned, but the carriage pressed on. In truth, they weren't in any real danger. Roan, standing atop the carriage, was systematically shattering every falling fragment that came their way.
“...This is absolutely mental. You're telling me the people in the central battlegrounds fight in places like this?” Jane muttered.
“Indeed. It feels like more lives would be lost to nature than to actual combat,” Belgard agreed.
“Not really. The central battlegrounds themselves are actually quite peaceful,” Roan replied, swatting away a flying rock as he spoke.
By now, the two women had seen this sight so often they barely batted an eye.
“This kind of chaos only happens near Horoljulol. That's why most people don't know about it.”
After all, living in a place like this seemed utterly impossible. Even Roan hadn't believed it until he had followed him here in his past life.
“Ah, there it is. Hey, mister.”
“H-Hieeeek... Yes?”
“Take us right up to there. You can't make it back on your own anyway, right? We'll be counting on you for the return trip too.”
The coachman, realizing he was completely trapped, turned pale. He looked practically undead.
“Alright, that's Horoljulol.”
Jane and Belgard looked in the direction Roan was pointing. Through the swirling storm of sand and gravel, something began to take shape.
“...A pile of rocks?” Jane asked.
“No... it looks like some kind of stone structure,” Belgard corrected.
“Exactly. A stone wall. They live inside it.”
It was a brutally simple defense, but infinitely better than being exposed to the elements out here.
“Alright! Let's head in!”
Following Roan's shout, they slipped through a gap in the stone wall that served as an entrance. A small but sturdy community welcomed them.
“Oh... it's actually pretty quiet.”
Jane's voice seemed to ring out unusually loud. Unlike the raging fury of nature outside, the interior of the wall was remarkably peaceful. Perhaps it felt even quieter because they had come from the bustling, noisy kingdom.
“By the way, the people here certainly have a unique look,” Belgard remarked, watching the residents converse.
Indeed, they wore traditional attire unique to Horoljulol, unseen anywhere else.
“Tattoos are their defining feature. Men and women alike get them. But even here, no one has as many as the guy I'm looking for.”
“Ah, right. You mentioned his entire face is covered in tattoos.”
“Aren't tattoos usually a status symbol for the strong in places like this? He must be incredibly powerful then,” Jane deduced sharply.
It was a keen observation.
“You're right! Maybe he's a hero or a guardian of Horoljulol?” Belgard chimed in, impressed by the theory.
Roan fell silent for a moment, lost in thought as he recalled a past conversation with the man in question.
“U-Uh, no... It's not like that... I-I'm sorry...”
End of flashback.
“He's definitely not that type. If anything, he's incredibly timid.”
“...What? Seriously?”
Flabbergasted that her guess was wrong, Jane promptly changed the subject.
“Come to think of it, you've never actually told us who all these comrades of yours are. Since we're looking for this guy anyway, why don't you fill us in?”
“Jane, your tone is a bit harsh. That's the kind of phrasing that makes people not want to talk.”
“...Please.”
Though she scowled, Jane obediently adjusted her tone.
Roan had never intended to keep it a secret anyway, so he happily began to explain as they walked down the street.
“First, there's Debi Jane! An incredible mage. In her prime, she could roast dozens of demons alive with a single spell.”
“...That's me.”
“Next is Erian Belgard! A saintess. She was in charge of our party's defense. Her barriers were legendary, holding strong even against blades fueled by pure malice.”
“Uh... you're talking about a time I don't remember, right? That past life you mentioned...”
Belgard spoke with a look of mild bewilderment. Roan, keeping the grim details of their deaths to himself for now, moved on to the next person.
“Cedric Rowell. A knight who wears a growing Ego Armor. He's a total lone wolf, but he always lent us his strength when it mattered.”
They had already met Rowell, so he didn't pique their interest much. What the two women were truly curious about were the other three they hadn't met yet.
“And next... our blacksmith! Her name is Basilen Zaraxia, and she's a half-dragon.”
“...A half-dragon? Someone like that actually exists?”
“Yeah.”
Roan had been shocked when he first met her too, especially since she lacked the typical arrogance of a dragon. Though, in place of arrogance, she had an eccentric, march-to-the-beat-of-her-own-drum personality...
“But her blacksmithing skills are top-notch, so you don't have to worry about that!”
“...Well, we can worry about that later. Who's next?”
“Next is our shaman! She was incredibly helpful when dealing with ghosts, spirits, or formless gods.”
“Ghosts...”
Jane shuddered slightly, realizing they would eventually have to face such terrifying entities. Roan waited for her to compose herself before uttering the name.
“Elira Belmor Irene de Sharos Castor Laxia Scalde.”
“...What?”
It was an absurdly long name, but Roan remembered it perfectly down to the last syllable. He remembered everything about his comrades—even trivial details like their height, weight, and physical quirks.
“We usually just called her Scalde. She's a completely unhinged shaman, and she'll probably clash with you guys a lot.”
But comrades grew by clashing. Besides, Roan could now act as a guardian and mediator, meaning he could break up their fights much more gracefully than before.
“And finally, the one we're looking for right now—Charbun! He'll serve as our scout and information gatherer. He has an incredibly amazing ability, but he's highly sensitive to loud noises and very timid, so be careful around him.”
“...I can't picture him at all. Why is a guy covered in tattoos living in a land of warriors so timid?”
“Well, that's...”
...something they would have to find out.
Roan approached a middle-aged woman nearby. She had a robust build and a fierce expression, but he didn't seem to mind.
“Hello! We've just come from outside Horoljulol. Do you happen to know someone named Charbun?”
“...Why do you ask? That is none of an outsider's business.”
“We need him! We're going to make him our comrade!”
Roan cut straight to the point. Hearing this, the woman shook her head, as if that were out of the question.
“I'm sorry, dear adventurers, but that boy cannot become anyone's comrade. He has a crucial role to play here.”
“A crucial role? What is it?”
“He is a sacrifice.”
“...A sacrifice?”
“Yes! Today is the most important day. It's the day he is offered up!”
Roan had only known Charbun's hometown at best. He never imagined the man was acting as a sacrifice. Then again, considering Charbun's unique ability, there was no role more fitting.
“Excuse me... may I ask a question?”
Belgard stepped forward cautiously.
“What is he being sacrificed to? Is there a local deity here...?”
“Not a deity, but the guardian spirit who protects Horoljulol.”
“A spirit...?”
“Yes, a spirit. You came from outside, so you must know how harsh it is out there, right? Our great spirit protects Horoljulol from those brutal elements. That is why we must offer a sacrifice. Only then will the spirit's wrath be appeased.”
The woman added one more thing: if they failed to offer the sacrifice, something truly terrible would happen.
'Something terrible? It sounds like she doesn't even know what exactly would happen.'
It was a typical, vague local superstition. It was common enough, but the problem was that the target of this superstition was Roan's comrade.
Jane and Belgard stole a glance at Roan.
“Huh? Roan, are you okay?”
“Why?”
“They just said your comrade is being sacrificed. Normally, wouldn't you have charged in yelling, 'Stop this garbage ritual right now!'?”
“Is that really how I seem to you guys?”
“...A little bit, yes,” Belgard agreed softly.
Belgard's gentle confirmation! But Roan couldn't even argue. He had, in fact, been planning to do exactly that.
“Jane, Belgard,” Roan called out to them in a hushed voice.
“Yeah, we're ready. We just beat them up a bit and snatch this Charbun guy, right?”
“No.”
“Huh?”
Roan had also lived in a small community once. He knew all too well the consequences of acting recklessly in a place like this.
“If we make a scene, word will spread to the entire community in an instant. I don't know everything about Horoljulol, but they call it the land of warriors for a reason. They won't be easy to deal with, and I'd rather not make an enemy of Charbun's hometown.”
Therefore!
“We're just going to break Charbun out.”
“...How?”
“There's a place over there that looks incredibly suspicious, isn't there?”
Roan pointed toward the center of Horoljulol. There stood a grand, imposing building that practically screamed "ritual site."
“...Can we really get in there without being caught? And if we steal the sacrifice, won't the spirit get angry and destroy the village...?”
“That won't happen!”
Roan declared firmly. He was absolutely certain. In his past life, Charbun had been a member of his expedition. What did that mean? It meant that even if Charbun left this place, the spirit wouldn't harm the village. Or perhaps a malevolent entity had revealed its true colors and been subjugated.
'It's highly likely to be a malevolent entity.'
Otherwise, it wouldn't have demanded human sacrifices in the first place. Still, it weighed on his mind. Even if they snuck Charbun out, the sudden chaos might alter the future in unforeseen ways.
Roan fell into deep thought. After a few seconds of deliberation, the plan he decided on was none other than...
“Let's just slay this 'spirit' guy.”
Eliminating the root cause of the sacrifices.
“...Huh?”
“What...?”
Ruuuumble...
Behind the two bewildered women, the howling roar of nature began to grow louder and louder.