Chapter 55
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: What Should You Do?
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Consolation for the soul didn't discriminate against its targets.
The heat haze blooming from the cabin was proof of that.
Slightly different from the aura given off by the serpent's power.
'Is there some kind of power in the song?'
It resembled the sunlight of a spring day.
The constant chill of grief and anger that had been emanating melted into the men's chorus, turning into a mirage and scattering away.
They finished the simple funeral rites.
Erakins, who had provided the greatest help by building the coffin, quietly asked,
"Captain, what does 'Jingle Bells' mean, anyway?"
"Well..."
I didn't know the meaning either.
I racked my brain for an excuse, then remembered a video I'd seen long ago.
"There's a country with a custom of ringing bells while carrying the coffin. I learned it from there."
Everyone nodded at my utterly ridiculous explanation.
These guys were so easy to fool.
"Everyone, rest around the hearth. I'll take the night watch."
"Understood."
Having finally gotten some leisurely downtime, the bandits chattered away late into the night.
Times like this were necessary.
Even machines break down if run nonstop without rest—what they'd accomplished so far, enduring forced marches on human bodies, was impressive enough.
As the shooting stars began to dwindle, two or three at a time started yawning hugely and nodding off.
With their snores as my lullaby, I kept watch while staring up at the stars.
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..."
Dazzling.
Stars over the hot springs.
A world teeming annoyingly with stars.
Staying up all night with eyes wide open was familiar territory.
It wasn't hard—just keep your eyes open.
Tired?
'I'm hiding Silver Star, keeping an eye out for pursuers—too tense to sleep.'
It wasn't obsession born of fear.
Just annoyance at potential hassle. If things didn't go according to my plans, I'd get irritated, so this was mere precaution—
You're scared, aren't you! You're doing it because you don't wanna die!
'Just trying a bit of bravado, so what?'
Aha! Bravado! The brat son of House Heo-se!
'Does a wuxia novel have a family like that?'
What would you know!
Having this crazy power keep me company meant nights alone weren't boring.
Speaking of which, how insanely tough was Luke's mentality to stay so calm in situations like this?
'That guy wasn't normal either.'
The great Holy Knight Luke Seid!
If it weren't for me, it wouldn't be him.
Anyway.
Something a bit—a very little bit—worrisome had come up.
"C-Captain..."
At dawn, Requiya and Crook approached and reported in low voices.
The preserved rations they'd grabbed from the bandit lair were running out...
They'd been tough jerky and hard bread to begin with, but for us—who'd moved without fighting—they were more precious than swords or shields.
"In about three days, we'll be out."
As Requiya made a lost face, Crook stepped forward.
"It's my fault for poor management. I should've rationed them stricter, but everyone kept complaining about hunger..."
"You idiots say the darnedest things."
I shook my head.
No one's fault.
For thirty men to have lasted this long was miracle enough.
Besides, I wasn't trash enough to chew out Crook for throwing himself prostrate in blame. I gave him shit when he got frustrating, sure.
"It's spring now. We're in the woods, and the woods are full of game."
They had to be. They better be.
Damn right.
"Hunt for food. Salt the meat. Crook, can you handle it?"
"Yes. We have a bit of salt from the lair."
"Good. This spot's perfect for foraging, so we'll stay a few days. Still, better hurry. Anyone slacking gets branded a heretic."
"I'll pass it on."
Crook muttered something about what the hell a heretic even was, then withdrew.
Crook stood before the bandits gathered for morning training, hands on hips.
"Ahem! Attention, all! Your vice-captain Crook has an announcement!"
What a punk.
One little promotion and he's strutting like he owns the sky.
"Rations are low! The captain says it's spring, plenty of game in the woods! Hunt pigs and deer, salt 'em down! No birds! Slackers are heretics!"
He was pretty good at wrangling them, though?
Annoying how he painted me weird, but handy having someone make 'em move without me opening my mouth.
Hunter bandits slung bows and headed out, followed by a few porters.
I climbed onto a broad rock and sat cross-legged.
Breathing deeply—huff huff—I stared blankly at what had once been fields.
Near the cabin, potatoes, carrots, onions grew wild and rampant. Nothing edible among them.
Not because it was early spring with no harvest—because no one managed them, they'd spread like weeds.
A bandit named Edinson went into the field unbidden and started weeding.
'What's that guy doing?'
I knew zilch about farming.
Same for the others.
The beggar-bandits whispered watching Edinson.
"Edinson must have energy to burn."
"Does he know what he's doing?"
"Probably. He was a slave on a corn plantation."
Even so, this world's bandits couldn't just watch someone toil away silently and diligently.
They took interest, got curious, imitated.
Unlike my old world, where neighbors died and no one cared.
"Edinson, this one okay to pull?"
"Yeah. See where I scratched lines with the hoe? That's the furrow. Leave two handspans of potatoes between furrows, yank the rest."
"What good's that do?"
"Makes potatoes potatoes again. Too small to eat now."
Edinson bit into a thumb-sized potato and spat it out roughly.
Ptooey!
"Tasteless as hell. Too many plants stealing nutrients."
The cabin area soon turned farm-like.
Two, three, more bandit-farmers under Edinson's watch tilled potato fields, replanted onions, turned the carrot patch.
I watched them while focusing on mana cultivation.
Mana-less mana cultivation!
Cultivation that builds no mana!
That's not mana cultivation! You're just breathing!
'Not pointless.'
Skip circulating faint energy like this, and my body swells up. Probably means it's hit its limit again.
Larger mana vessel means more faint energy to use when needed.
"Shouldn't we get going?"
Yuderg, sitting beside me cultivating—hot breath puffing—murmured lowly, eyes on the farmer-bandits.
I got his doubt.
We'd pushed without real rest till now. Must figure there was reason.
With Blue Eye active, gazing skyward, no quick answer came.
I just shared a simple thought.
"No rush, right?"
Those guys—bandits, beggars now proper comrades.
Kept up through that hell march.
Showed grit overcoming stamina limits with strong will, time and again.
They earned that much recognition—human decency.
"After that ordeal following me, a bit of breather's fine."
"I see. You seemed pursued, so I asked."
"Yeah."
Not wrong.
I was always chased.
This leisure might taste sweeter to me than them, even.
'Queen doesn't seem nearby, no immediate pursuit in Blue Eye. Bolt when they show.'
Fred ambled over grinning.
Fred sat by Yuderg, brushing dirt from his shoes.
"Feels good handling soil after so long."
"Any point to that?"
Yuderg asked Fred, curiosity plain.
Not asking me 'cause this foul-mouthed holy knight punk knows jack, probably.
Cocky bastard.
'I know it all. Feels like I know this world better than Yuderg.'
Thanks to Silver Star!
'Yeah. True.'
Bandits' eyes, talk, mutters, breaths, whatever.
Watch 'em still, and their thoughts show.
Started distinguishing truth from lies, now peeking into minds, you could say.
Probably 'cause the gap between me and them's huge. Yeah, difference in caliber.
'So this is looking down. World must've been a playground for Luke-tier guys.'
Anyway, what'd Fred say? I perked my ears, posture loose.
"Why need reason for what your heart moves you to do?"
"Heart moves you..."
"I was a wanderer. Why wander? Liked rambling, that's all. Met women, boozed all night at inns, hustled gambling dens—lived full days. Wanted to, so did. Same for them. Bottom-born scum can't stand idling. Idle, you starve, get beat, eaten—ain't that the world?"
Yuderg nodded.
But face said he didn't quite get it.
Even without details, Yuderg spent more time training and fighting than scraping by.
Knight cadet turned knight—no starving worries.
Fred smirked at Yuderg's sullen look.
"Some'd call that field work futile. We'll leave soon, after all. But to them, it's meaningful. Touching soil, sweating—making their lives shine, y'know."
Making lives shine.
Did they have stars too?
Like me and Luke?
Where's the bandit star, then?
"Nothing makes a human more human than spending time on what you can do, what you think right."
Fred was ever the fine instructor, mentor.
Yuderg'd lost mana, but not his human caliber.
So he couldn't peer into those depths.
But Yuderg's face now? Impressed, clear enough.
"Ah... That's why Erakins keeps making stuff from wood."
Yuderg eyed where carpenter Erakins shaped a log bench.
Bench meaning: shave bottom so it doesn't roll, top for sitting. That's it.
Still worlds better than raw log.
"I teach 'em swordplay, Requiya mana cultivation and magic. You too, Yuderg—must be something you can do. Unless you're just tailing us to watch Captain Kalruk."
"Watch? Nonsense."
"Joking, don't mind. You seem too wary."
Fred grinned mischievously, clapped Yuderg's back, headed to the fields.
Yuderg's blinks quickened.
His thinking tic.
How many blinks later, he turned to me.
"What should I do?"
What should you do...
I pondered, then shot back bluntly.
"Weren't you following to kill me?"
Yuderg hiccuped—hic!
Pale as death, he waved hands frantically.
Blub blub—
"What, man. Speak straight. Shi-ru, Shia-pa—. Argh. What's that guy's name."
"If you mean the mute one, it's Sirgraph."
"Right, him. Hangin' with him, thought you'd forgotten how to talk too."
Yuderg laughed heartily, shoulders shaking.
A bright smile, rare on his usual pale, expressionless face.