Chapter 19
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: If They Come, I'll Kill Them All
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Having safely crossed the bridge thanks to Luon's monstrous strength, the party parted ways at the first fork in the road.
As Colin was leaving, Amella handed him a bundle of herbs.
“Dry this thoroughly, grind it into a fine powder, and mix it with the troll's blood. It should thicken in two or three days, and from then on, it'll have an effect similar to a potion. It might save your lives in the war, so don't even think about selling it... on second thought, do whatever you want.”
Colin spoke with a look of deep gratitude.
“Oh, don’t you worry. I will make sure to use it for my brother and me. And…”
He glanced over and bowed his head deeply to Luon, who was watching him with an indifferent expression.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
As Luon tilted his head, Colin held up the vial sloshing with troll’s blood and smiled. Ah, that?
“It’s nothing. It’s just blood.”
Colin bowed once more to the man who was waving his hand dismissively.
“Well, my brother and I will be on our way. I hope everything goes well for the three of you in Dumphries.”
As the three men disappeared into the distance, Kyle muttered.
“Volunteering… Do you think they’ll survive?”
Amella replied.
“Whether they take a stray arrow to the back of the head or become war heroes, no one knows. What’s certain is that we have our own problems to worry about. The moment even a sliver of the fragment's power leaks, Belducias’s followers will be on us. You don't think they'll be any tamer than those barbarians, do you?”
His expression instantly darkening, Kyle forced a grim smile.
“Haha, right. We have our own problems to worry about…”
“So let’s get a move on. Dumphries is only half a day’s ride from here.”
However, contrary to Amella’s prediction, the party had not reached Dumphries by nightfall. The reason was the horses; although they had calmed down, they were still unable to pick up any speed. It seemed the aftereffects of facing a predator like a troll lingered for quite a while in animals that weren't aggressive warhorses.
Unable to find a suitable village, the group prepared to make camp at a decent spot.
Amella, who had been staring blankly as Luon transferred a spark from his flint to a twig, muttered softly.
“I can’t shake the feeling that things are starting to go awry.”
Kyle, who was skewering alternating pieces of meat and cheese onto a stick, picked up on her words.
“That’s just how life is. So, Amella, how about you help me with the cooking?”
“...Do we really have to eat that?”
“So you’d rather starve? It all tastes the same once it’s in your mouth.”
“Even so, troll meat… No, I’ll help.”
Kyle chuckled, amused by the sight of Amella skewering meat onto a stick despite her scowl.
While the two prepared their meal, Luon, having started the campfire and set up their sleeping arrangements, plopped down and began to inspect his gear.
As proof of the successive fierce battles, most of his equipment was in dire need of repair. Paradoxically, only the holy sword, which had been wielded the most violently, remained pristine and radiant, just as it was when he first held it.
Gazing down at its soft, silver glow, Luon gently stroked the holy sword. As if in response, it hummed and trembled.
*I should probably make a donation to Tivela when I get the chance…*
It was late evening, and the sun had begun to set. As the net of twilight quietly draped over the land, shimmering stars began to appear above. A dense pile of scorched sticks had accumulated next to the party, who were gathered around the crackling campfire.
His face flushed crimson from the heat, Kyle patted his full stomach and said.
“Wow, that was really good. If only we had some beer, it would’ve been perfect.”
“You were suffering from a hangover all morning, and you’re already thinking about drinking?”
“Ahem, that was because I overdid it yesterday. And you, Amella, acted like you wouldn’t touch the troll meat, but you had how many skewers all by yourself…”
“Shut it.”
As Amella’s eyes narrowed, Kyle cleared his throat and turned away.
“Anyway… since we’re camping, we’ll need to stand watch. Does anyone want to go first?”
Kyle raised his hand.
“I’ll go first, since I have to clean up anyway.”
“I’ll go next.”
Luon answered immediately, and Amella shrugged.
“Then I’m last.”
Since there was nothing to stay up and chat about, the group soon lay down to rest.
Luon, who was gazing at the sky with the sound of crackling embers as a backdrop, heard the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing from beside him. He turned his head to see Amella’s upper body rising and falling gently as she lay on her side. *How did she fall asleep so fast?*
Instead of closing his eyes, Luon sat up. Kyle, who was cleaning his shield in front of the campfire, tilted his head.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?”
Instead of answering, Luon pulled a dagger from his tunic and offered it to Kyle.
“This will be much better than just holding a shield.”
“Uh… th-thank you.”
As Kyle accepted the dagger with a bewildered expression, Luon drew another one. He gripped the handle with his thumb over his fist and thrust it forward.
“You have a shield, so after blocking an attack, if you see an opening, you can stab or strike like this. If the blade gets caught on an opponent’s bone or muscle, you might lose your grip trying to pull it out clumsily, so don’t forget to hold on tight.”
Kyle wrapped his fingers around the hilt so tightly that the blood drained from them.
“Like this?”
“You won’t be stupid enough to lose your grip, then. This time…”
Luon continued for a while, explaining the proper stance and techniques for using a dagger. Of course, he had never formally learned swordsmanship, but the experiences accumulated through countless life-or-death struggles made it more than possible.
Kyle’s eyes were wide with concentration, as if determined not to miss a single moment of the vivid, practical lesson.
*He really is too good to be wasted as a woodcutter.*
Luon clicked his tongue inwardly as he watched Kyle impressively imitate even a throw, something he had demonstrated without much expectation. Though Kyle himself seemed unaware, he clearly had a talent for it. It was unlikely that this talent was limited to daggers; if he ever found a weapon that suited him, he might just make a name for himself.
Luon sheathed his weapon and said.
“That’s enough for today. You need to get some sleep, too.”
“Huh? Is it that late already?”
Confirming the moon’s position, which had shifted about a hand’s breadth to the west, Kyle scratched his head with an embarrassed look.
“I feel bad, like I got a free pass…”
“If you feel bad, you can take my watch next time.”
Though it was said in jest, Kyle nodded seriously.
“Of course. I’ll do that. And Luon, like I said before, you can speak to me more comfortably…”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Ah, yes, sir.”
With an awkward expression, Kyle went straight to his bedroll. Luon’s lips curled into a smile as he watched the man place his shield by his head and clutch the dagger to his chest as he slept.
The night grew deeper. Luon, who was tossing dry firewood into the dying flames to revive them, suddenly turned his head at the sound of harsh, ragged breaths.
He saw Amella, her face pale and beaded with cold sweat. Luon had intended to let her be, but when her lips began to turn blue, he immediately approached and gently touched her shoulder.
“Amella.”
“...Ugh, huh?”
Forcing her eyes open, Amella staggered to a sitting position.
“Is it my turn?”
“No, that’s not why I woke you.”
Luon handed his waterskin to Amella, who was wetting her parched lips with her tongue. As she greedily gulped down the water, he asked.
“It can’t be something you ate… What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing…”
“If there’s a problem, I’d rather you not hide it. You haven’t forgotten that you’re our guide, have you?”
Luon’s eyes flared as he cut Amella off.
Wiping the water from her mouth with the back of her hand, Amella slowly began to speak.
“...Belducias's power attempted to reconfigure the space I created, trying to destroy me, its source.”
*What does that even mean?* Luon raised a hand and said in a firm voice.
“Make it simple.”
Amella gave a weak smile.
“The fragment’s power is much stronger than I thought. Even though I’ve dedicated most of my mana to isolating its essence, it’s becoming too much to bear… It’s actually pushing me back.”
Though she seemed to be trying to explain in detail, her words were still not very intuitive, so Luon rephrased what he understood from the overall context to confirm.
“So in the end, the fragment’s power is trying to leak out again? And in the process, it’s trying to destroy you?”
“That’s right.”
Amella slowly nodded. Luon immediately took the stone tablet from his tunic. The fact that this dull, palm-sized slab of gray stone contained the power of a mighty demon still didn’t feel real to him.
But the demon’s servant who had thrown a spear the day before, and the beast it commanded, were very real threats—and at the same time, good sources of experience. Recalling this, Luon said.
“Then, release the seal.”
“What?”
Luon shrugged at Amella, who was wearing a rare, dazed expression.
“Didn’t you hear me? Release the seal.”
“Do you have any idea what that means?”
“The demon’s servants will come for us.”
“And you say that knowing what will happen?”
Amella stared at Luon’s face in disbelief. And she saw it clearly. Deep, unwavering black eyes. There was no anxiety, no fear, no excitement, no sorrow. There was only a distinct, unshakable confidence in himself.
Luon spoke in a voice as calm as his gaze.
“So what? If they come, I’ll just kill them all.”