Chapter 63
Chapter 63
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Each Other's Justice
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The path to Godell was a two-day journey to the southernmost point of Helred on the eastern continent, one day to cross the border and stay over, and then four days to push straight through the desert stretching southwest after crossing.
"Desert? You mean land covered in sand, Bison?"
"It's called Tohou. Think of it as a region directly under Agagtur's influence, I suppose. Hard to explain if you haven't seen it yourself. Just imagine it as insanely hot."
Gil let out a hearty laugh as he listened to the beastman knight Bison.
"Hah! Sure, I'm traveling with you now, but I've climbed all the way to the roof of the continent with the Hero! You should've seen the underground depths of Haipoji Mountain, right in the heart of Sional, led by that massive dwarf! The continent's a big place. You're just too young to know any better!"
Bison responded with a smirk that bordered on a sneer.
"Yes, yes. Do try to endure the scorching heat, bumpy Senior Knight."
Fortunately, they hadn't run into any demons on the way here, but battling the twisted cotton tufts sprouting from the fields, the polluted ancient trees, and the moving boulders had brought the pair a little closer.
"By the way, your shield... no, your sword work is no joke."
The twisted cotton tufts weren't flitting about small like usual-they'd morphed into massive thorny clumps raining down poison, leaving Gil flustered. But Bison had fended them off effortlessly, without so much as manifesting his sword or even a sign.
His blade was shaped like a massive steel shield, specialized for blocking with the broad shield face and thrusting with the small, sturdy spike attached in front.
"Well, what can I say-no sword for me. Our kind fights like this by nature. Lucky it's a style I'm used to, I guess. And you-the Knight. That manifestation of yours was incredible."
As Bison said, it was Gil who had incinerated the twisted cotton tufts, polluted trees, and moving boulders in a single breath.
No matter their skin, bones, flesh, or heart-his sword exploded, reducing it all to ash.
Bison, who had watched it all melt away in flames with his own eyes, fiddled with his sword this way and that in the cramped room, mimicking Gil's stance.
"My initial sign was just belching fire at first. Then, staring death in the face during knight training, I'manifested my sword name and unlocked these righteous flames."
"[Exploding Justice], right? That was the technique."
"Yeah. And this is the first time I'm mentioning it, but I haven't tapped Chedikahema's full power yet. [Exploding Justice], [Justice Burning One]... there has to be more. I can't wield techniques as fluidly as the Hero, but the stronger my justice, my conviction grows, the fiercer the flames I can unleash. Hmm... Like you saw, that's exactly why I didn't tag along with the Hero's party."
"Is your justice... your conviction wavering?"
Gil fell silent at the question, lost in memories of the past. He could boast all he wanted, but atop Haipoji Mountain, he'd realized his justice was worthless-unable to burn a damn thing.
He had hesitated to point his blade at the demons, those supposed enemies of his.
"Yeah. That's why I stepped up to chase down the Blazing Mir, Agagtur."
Those pus-filled horrors had surely been human once.
And yet, demons?
What he'd believed were foes to slaughter without mercy turned out to be just another race, per Bison. Nothing more than folks with differing convictions?
Gil clenched his fist tight. Unable to define what a demon truly was, he had to seek out his real enemies-not demons-and set his justice right. That alone would be the conviction of Senior Knight Gil of the great Sonain Empire, the path for everyone.
His sword existed for that alone.
"No other way."
Gil nodded to himself once more before turning to Bison.
"So why'd you tag along with me?"
"Simple-I've been down south to Godell since I was a kid. Makes guiding easier, and it's simpler to collect Guba from the Empire this way than across the sea."
"With your speed, sure... When as a kid?"
"About three years back?"
Gil burst out laughing. The warhorse they'd left here-the Empire-bred foal-was barely three years old itself. Bison shook his head at the boisterous guffaw.
"Don't laugh. It's just a lifespan thing. Three years ago, I was a pup, but I'm healthy now-could live another ten easy. Then I'll age fast. Give it ten years, we might look the same age. Call me 'brother' then."
Gil couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly for a moment. Fair point-beastmen aged and died far quicker than humans. He turned to Bison, who was counting the Guba they'd received at this stable-cum-inn where they'd stabled their border-and-desert-proof horses.
"Then why the frenzy to earn Guba? From what I know, beastmen nomads don't need much coin."
Bison threw his head back in a big laugh this time, holding up a single Guba for Gil to see.
"One Guba? Won't get you far, obviously. But our late great chieftain said it plain: to get treated like humans, we beastmen have to keep trading with them. It's not just about speaking their tongue-we gotta pile up wealth till they respect us."
"That's the chieftain overthinking it. The Empire's always protected beastmen..."
"Yes, yes. No idea how you protect nomads like us, but I don't buy it all either. To be seen as human, it's not about hoarding Guba-it's buying something else with it."
"Something else?"
Gil had stripped off his battle-worn armor, reeking of blood and iron, and sat across from Bison to ask. Bison finished tallying the Guba, stowed the bundle, pulled out a book, and answered with grave seriousness.
"Education. We need to claim our right to learn-to buy wisdom. That's how we become human."
The words carried layers of meaning, but Gil sensed the distrust beastmen held for humans, the rage of exclusion from the Empire, and Bison's resolve to change it all. He said nothing.
"It's the way for my tribe-no, all beastmen-to end our wandering days."
Bison tucked the book away and ended on a bitter note. Gil reached out with his thick hand, grabbed Bison by the scruff where coarse black mane sprouted from his neck, and shoved a small bundle of his own into the beastman's grip.
"Crossing that border was no picnic, but tomorrow's the real grind. One night of boozing won't hurt. Come on-drinks on me."
"Uh, I've never touched booze before."
"All the better! Booze is something you learn from your brother!"
Gil laughed it off heartily once more, leaving his armor and sword in the room. Clad only in his lightweight under-armor, he half-dragged the equally unarmed Bison out the door.
They descended the wooden stairs from their room to the first-floor lobby, which doubled as the bar area, and took a seat at one of the tables. The innkeeper they'd seen earlier was off checking the horses, it seemed, but every table around was packed.
"Order whatever. Haipoji brew would be perfect. While the owner's out, snag something tasty from the display..."
"Hold on, Knight."
"Hm? What? Didn't I give you Guba earlier?"
"Take a natural look around."
Bison continued, pretending to eye the display case.
"Every guest here's hooded, but spot the one at the far left end? Reddish hair?"
"Ah, yeah. Reddish hair."
For a split second, Gil thought of 1st Knight Order Captain Riu-such an exotic hue, unseen in the Empire. The redhead's skin was a deep, sun-baked earth tone.
"Reddish hair means a southern human from Godell."
"Oh, perfect then! Let's ask for directions..."
Bison clamped down hard on Gil's arm as he started to rise, whispering on.
"Borderlands make you drop your guard. We're Empire knights. Godell's guardians don't just hate the Empire-they despise it. And reddish hair with dark skin? That means 'underground' stock."
"Underground?"
"I'll explain back in the room..."
Bang!
Right on cue, the reddish-haired man smashed his table with one hand.
"Damn it! I'll fetch my sword!"
"Wait!"
Gil stood, hands raised high, oblivious to how dire things had gotten.
"Heard you're from Godell. We're headed there-mind pointing the way? Wrong direction, we could share a drink and swap stories from the place."
The table-smasher rose slowly, and with him, every hooded figure in the room threw back their hoods. They gripped their blades, turning deliberately toward Gil. His eyes locked with those of the apparent leader, the one who'd wrecked the table.
"What in the..."
His eyes looked diseased-pupils smeared into inky smears, whites bloody red.
"Demons?"
It all blurred together with the pus-ridden freaks he'd seen back at Haipoji Mountain.