Chapter 659: Remnants
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 659: Remnants
The earth was a dark, dusky red, as if it were hemorrhaging blood.
Endless clouds of grit and dust, whipped up by a dismal wind from some unknown source, almost entirely obscured the sky. Everything was cast in a heavy, oppressive gloom.
Forget the sun, moon, or stars—even simple daylight rarely reached this place. As far as the eye could see, there was only a bleak, hazy chaos where the boundary between heaven and earth had long since dissolved.
"How long have we been walking?"
A man suddenly stopped. He kicked aside a piece of sedimentary rock that was nearly weathered to nothing, drew a dagger, and dug out a single weed struggling to survive in a crack in the stone.
"Reporting, Captain! Counting from when we left the last campsite, we’ve been marching for six hours!"
The one who answered was the youngest soldier in the group, a lad named Vik. As for a surname... coming from a remote border village, Vik didn't have one. He possessed only an innate simplicity and enthusiasm.
Though his face had been roughened by the relentless wind and sand, and was even scabbed over from recent injuries, one could still see a lingering, naive innocence deep within his eyes.
Vik tracked the time with an old pocket watch that he cherished deeply. Everyone knew that inside the cover was a photograph of his fiancée, whom he considered the most beautiful girl in the world.
To anyone else, a single glance revealed she was merely an ordinary girl with a face full of freckles—homely, even. Yet, in the dead of night, Vik would still clutch that watch and grin like a fool.
"Six hours, is it?"
Abel held the weed to his nose and sniffed. Confirming it wasn't poisonous, but merely the most common type of scrub found in this wasteland, he plucked a few leaves and stuffed them into his mouth to chew.
His brow furrowed. Having gone so long without food and with precious little water, his sense of taste had grown numb, yet the bitterness of the leaves was still almost unbearable.
Fortunately, the leaves held a tiny bit of moisture. It was just enough to return a hint of wetness to the tip of his tongue, slightly easing the searing, cracked sensation of thirst.
"Six hours... based on our pace just now..."
Abel pulled out a compass and a tattered, grimy map.
The dust storms blocked almost every environmental cue used for navigation. By some stroke of luck, the standard-issue military compass was sturdy enough that it still worked.
"We should be right about here."
Abel measured with his fingers, finally pinpointing their current location.
Immediately, his expression darkened.
On the map, less than half a knuckle’s distance from their current position, a prominent circle had been drawn in red pigment.
Red meant danger.
"This isn't good."
"Wha... what’s not good?"
Vik shrank back, intimidated by Abel’s expression. He muttered, "Captain, when you look like that, I... I get a bit scared. Are we..."
"Shut it!"
Abel glared at Vik and unceremoniously stuffed the moisture-rich root of the weed into the boy's mouth.
"Even dehydration can't keep you from flapping your gums!"
"Mmph! Mmph..."
"I say it’s not good, but really, it’s just a matter of choice."
Ignoring Vik, who was nearly choking on the root, Abel studied the red-marked area, cross-referencing it with the intelligence stored in his memory.
"If I remember correctly, there should be a demon outpost here."
"An outpost? Is there something important in this area?"
The man speaking to Abel was a middle-aged man with a thick beard named Guri. One of his eyes had been slashed in a recent battle; due to the lack of proper medical supplies, it had been crudely stitched shut. When he spoke, the scar twitched like a disgusting centipede writhing on his face.
"I’m not sure. This outpost was discovered by Hanson’s scout squad. You remember Hanson, right? That Cisrelian who used to spray spit everywhere when he talked."
"I remember," Guri said tonelessly. "I heard the demons tore him apart?"
"...Whether he was torn apart or not, I don't know, but the man has returned to the Goddess's embrace regardless. I don't have the full details on this outpost."
Abel sighed.
The previous demon offensive had been too terrifying. Before they could even react, they were swallowed by the chaos. Now, even finding the main army felt like an impossible task.
"So, we have a choice to make."
Abel tapped the map. "Either we find a way to slip past this demon outpost, or we take a detour."
"How long of a detour?"
"At least a day’s march."
"Can we hold out for another day?"
"That..."
Abel looked up at the few men gathered around him.
Himself, Vik, Guri, Polly, and Morris.
Five men.
Only five.
And they weren't even elite scouts trained to navigate the heart of the Abyss to bring back intel. They were just an ordinary squad. The group even included a greenhorn like Vik, who had enlisted less than a month ago and hadn't seen more than a couple of real fights.
It all started three days ago, when the demons launched a sudden, horrific assault on the grand army. Demon powerhouses had torn through the battle lines. High in the sky, they had fought a bloody battle against the Duke—the man who, in Abel’s eyes, had been omnipotent.
Yet, he had watched with his own eyes as the Lord Duke was besieged and fell from the heavens like a dying meteor, burning out.
The loss of that battle forced the entire defense line to retreat. Many units were shattered. To avoid being surrounded and annihilated, they had been forced to flee in the opposite direction—deeper into demon territory—hoping to find a way back to the army later.
Their squad was one of those remnants.
But traveling through demon territory was a nightmare. The environment was lethal, resources were non-existent, and mutated magical beasts prowled the nights. Even worse were the cruel demons roaming this wasteland...
The five of them had lived with their hearts in their throats, moving with agonizing caution to survive this long.
But after three days of being utterly out of food and water, they were running on nothing but sheer willpower. Could they really endure another day just for a slightly higher chance of survival?
"No," Guri said, touching the wound on his face. His voice was firm. "Factoring in the time it'll take to find the main force after we pass this area, we can't afford to waste another day. If we try, we might as well just lie down and die now."
"...Fair point."
Abel closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
While trying to bypass a demon outpost wasn't exactly a rational move either, as the captain, he had to give the order regardless of the outcome.
"In that case, let's not waste time. Prepare to move... while we still have enough strength in our legs to walk without needing canes like old men."
"..."
The lame joke didn't even make their eyebrows twitch. Only Vik gave a few hollow, silly chuckles.
The sound of light, hurried footsteps rose again, blending into the whistling wind.
Having decided on their course, the group moved quickly.
Following the direction of the map and compass, they finally sighted the demon outpost after an hour of silent marching.
"Hanson’s intel was correct."
Abel lay prone in the shadow of a hidden crevice between massive boulders, observing the outpost through a monocular.
"It’s definitely a demon outpost. And it’s not small."
"Is it heavily guarded?"
"Guarded... but not strictly. The demons are acting strange. It looks like they’re celebrating something?" Abel muttered in surprise, watching the distant demons dancing and gesturing wildly.
"Who cares what they're celebrating? If there's an opening, let's move."
"Understood."
Abel started to roll back to his feet.
But just as he was about to stow the monocular, something entered his field of vision that made him freeze.
"What is it?" Guri frowned, confused why their usually decisive captain was suddenly hesitating.
"I see horses."
"Horses? What’s so strange about horses?"
"Demons don't use ordinary horses! And it’s not just horses..."
Abel shifted the monocular slightly. Into his view came a line of wagons, pulled by horses and packed to the brim.
"Damn it!"
Abel punched the ground in a fit of rage.
"Those demon bastards... they’ve stolen our supplies!"