Episode 27
Half of the ogre’s head vanished.
—Krr… aack…?
The ogre tilted its head at the hollow sensation.
It touched its burst skull with its hand, and only then did it realize its condition, its eyes rolling back. Soon it toppled forward and collapsed.
Surviving for a moment even after its brain had burst was indeed fitting for the king of the forest.
But there was something even more astonishing than that.
Rapilta and Alber looked at the figure who had effortlessly killed the king of the forest.
“A single strike…?”
Paul muttered in shock.
By his common sense, among ranged weapons, only siege weaponry could kill an ogre in one blow.
No, even then, an ogre would snatch away most ordinary siege weapons.
That was how troublesome it was to face an ogre.
“…The weapon Rulan made is quite good.”
The crow man drew the crossbow’s string and loaded an extremely sturdy-looking metal stake into it. It was so large and sharp that it could truly pass for a giant spear.
At a glance, it looked like a ballista bolt.
As if an ogre was nothing to him.
Now the three finally understood the words “a mere ogre” that he had spoken earlier.
“Who are you?”
Rapilta did not use honorifics.
She had been too startled to pay attention.
The crow man stared blankly at Rapilta’s question.
“Uh…” He touched his chin.
“Hmm…” He touched his head.
“Ah…!” He snapped his fingers as if remembering.
The crow man clapped his hands and spoke.
“…I am a hunter.”
*He’s lying.*
*He’s lying.*
*He’s lying.*
Those were the reactions of Alber, Rapilta, and Paul.
“Could you be… a member of the Nod tribe?”
Paul asked cautiously, studying the crow man’s appearance.
Among the people he knew, the Nod tribe was the only race that hunted while wearing beast masks.
“A Nodin?”
Alber and Rapilta looked on in alarm, their gazes wary.
“That heretic group rumored to raid villages, treat women as toys, love murder, and survive by eating children?!”
At Rapilta’s words, the crow man spoke as if dumbfounded.
“…Of course, many Nodins are muscle-brained fools with no minds of their own… but just how has the perception of Nodins become this?”
Bad perceptions of the Nodin were widespread across the continent.
Indeed, up until just three years ago, the Nodin had been marauders who raided small villages and fiefdoms.
Rapilta and Alber looked on with wary eyes.
They even placed their hands on the sword hilts at their waists, preparing for any danger.
“You are too much. After I went out of my way to save you… surely you are not thinking of fighting me?”
“That is not the case. However, if you are a dangerous person…”
“We cannot simply stand by either.”
At Alber and Rapilta’s words, Paul waved both hands.
“Now, now! Don’t be so wary. Look. That mister crow isn’t even holding a weapon… huh?”
Paul stared at the crow man with wide eyes.
The ridiculously large crossbow he had been holding just moments ago had vanished.
Just as when he had produced it, he had now made the crossbow disappear in the blink of an eye.
There was only one class of people capable of such a feat.
“Could it be… you’re a mage?”
Paul asked with sparkling eyes.
The Nodin had many strong warriors.
But while they had many warriors, mages who could use magic hardly existed.
He had heard that their representative figure, a being called the “Shaman,” was someone worthy of being called a Grand Sage, but hardly anyone knew that to be true.
“Did you say mage?”
“B-but spatial magic is incredibly high-tier magic! Even I can’t do it!”
At Paul’s shout, Rapilta and Alber exchanged glances.
“Seeing that kid talk like that, it must truly be amazing.”
“He is a royal mage with quite a bit of experience, after all.”
Seeing their reactions, the crow man seemed to think of something and opened his mouth.
“Well… I do know how to use magic, but I am not particularly skilled at it. I merely possess a tool with a magic option.”
“A magic tool?”
As Rapilta tilted her head, Paul’s eyes sparkled.
“A magical artifact! Could it be that outfit?!”
Without any wariness, Paul approached the crow man and felt his clothes all over. The crow man merely watched Paul quietly.
“Well, you could say that. But… how long are you going to keep holding your swords?”
At the crow man’s remark, Alber cleared his throat, and Rapilta made an awkward expression.
Whatever his identity, it was certain that he had saved them.
“I should have offered my thanks first. I apologize, young man.”
“Thank you. Forgive our discourtesy.”
“……”
Rapilta readily thrust out her hand and spoke.
“My name is Rapilta. The old man over there is Alber, and the kid there is Paul.”
“I am called Hun.”
The crow man, Loki, shook hands with her.
“By the way… so you are a Nodin after all. Does that mean an ogre is nothing to you?”
Alber was well-acquainted with rumors about the Nodin and had even witnessed how they fought from afar.
Strength so indiscriminate and savage.
In a good light, outstanding warriors.
In a bad light, battle-crazed berserkers.
*When I saw some Nodins during the war, each one could fight four elite kingdom soldiers.*
And that was while they were equipped with shabby gear.
If they had received proper equipment and training, they would have become far more fearsome beings.
Recalling those beast-like figures who seemed to revel in battle, Alber did not let down his guard toward Hun.
They were outstanding warriors, but there was a strong perception that they would lose their reason and run rampant when enraged.
Paul looked up at the sky.
The sun was setting before they knew it.
“Let’s camp first. I’m tired…”
Paul slumped his shoulders and spoke.
“Here…?”
Alber and Rapilta looked at the dead ogre.
“It feels a bit off.”
“No. This place should be fine.”
Loki pointed at the ogre.
“Most monsters will avoid this place because of the ogre’s blood smell.”
At those words, Paul made a surprised expression.
“Huh? You knew? Ogre blood has the effect of driving monsters away. Orcs that handle this ogre will also retreat from the smell! Of course, if it rots, it will attract them instead.”
Hun smiled.
“I picked it up in passing.”
Loki had learned quite a lot from the Nodins.
“Then, let’s prepare camp!”
At Rapilta’s words, Loki nodded.
***
Rapilta took first watch of the camp.
As everyone prepared to sleep, Alber quietly looked at Hun.
*He is quite different from other Nodins.*
The Nod tribe he knew were mostly short-tempered, impulsive people whose bodies moved before their minds.
Their skill surpassed any mercenaries, but they were so difficult to control that almost no one tried to hire them.
The only ones who welcomed them were nobles who waged territorial wars.
*That is why many Nodins were hired during the Ronia Kingdom’s civil war.*
But over the past three years, the number of Nodins wandering the continent had drastically decreased.
No one knew exactly where they had gone, but he had heard that most had returned to their homeland, the frozen land.
*I had heard rumors that a nation had formed there…*
But Alber thought it was an unreliable story.
Nodins gathering to form a nation?
It was completely unbelievable.
It was merely thousands of bandits forming a group, with a bandit leader calling himself a king.
Countless unpredictable things happened in the world, but…
*That is nothing to worry about.*
In his head—no, in the heads of the continent’s people—the Nodin were merely “marauders.”
They were no different from a bandit group.
The night deepened.
…How much time had passed?
Then, Loki, who had detected a strange sound, quietly opened his eyes.
*People?*
Definitely not monsters.
He heard clattering sounds, the movement of weapons, and hushed conversation.
*Where?*
It was not far. Quite close.
Loki looked at Rapilta’s group.
Rapilta looked at Loki with sleepy eyes, puzzled.
“Huh? Mister Hun, you’re not sleeping? It’s still before your shift. You should sleep some more…”
“I hear something.”
“…A sound?”
“It seems there are people. And quite a large group, at that.”
“…I don’t hear anything?”
Rapilta strained her ears, but only heard the chirping of insects.
*…Is it because he’s a hunter that his ears are sharp? Or is he just talking nonsense?*
Rapilta doubted Loki’s words, but it would be rude to ask her savior if he was talking nonsense.
“What will you do?”
“Huh? Ah! Of course we have to go. But can you guarantee it’s people?”
“I heard conversation.”
“Conversation?”
*Surely he isn’t talking in his sleep?*
It was then.
Rapilta also detected faint noises.
But it was difficult to be certain whether the sound came from a group of people or a group of monsters.
But…
*I hear it!*
Rapilta looked at Loki in shock.
Could it really be true?!
“What will you do?”
“Huh? Ah! Of course we have to meet them!”
They had been lost for a long time.
A guide who knew the way would be most welcome!
***
The slave merchant Azar sang cheerfully.
He had a flushed face, a fist-sized strawberry nose, a bulging belly, and wore leather clothes stained with filthy dirt and sweat.
He showed his rotten teeth and sang proudly at the top of his lungs, but the mercenaries beside him felt like covering their ears from the unpleasant noise.
But there was nothing they could say, because their employer was the slave merchant who had hired them.
Lately, civil wars had become frequent in the Ronia Kingdom.
But the mercenaries unexpectedly shied away from participating in the civil war.
In a way, it was natural.
Mercenaries naturally stood at the very front of the battlefield on a warfront. They might be called vanguards or shock troops, but in truth they were merely meat shields or consumables.
Once the enemy’s stamina or numbers were reduced using the mercenaries, the elite troops would step forward.
Thus, war was a commission the mercenaries wanted to avoid: their achievements stolen, their pay withheld, and if they were unlucky enough to die, their lives lost as well.
Even if they participated in war, their lives would not be compensated.
Because of this, a phenomenon occurred where mercenaries flocked to relatively stable merchant escort commissions.
Knowing this, the slave merchant Azar was able to hire the mercenaries before him as cheaply as possible.
He could have formed an escort with slaves, but perfect control was difficult, so he had hired mercenaries who were somewhat more trustworthy.
*Slave warriors would try to kill me the moment I hand them a weapon! And all because I starved them for a few days and made them work a little. They have too little awareness that they are slaves!*
He loved free things, but his life was important too.
A slave merchant being killed by a slave! How unsightly!
*Well, the deficit from hiring mercenaries can be made up later in the slums.*
To him, everyone living in the slums was no different from slaves.
Even if they suddenly disappeared, there would be no one to care.
*Besides, I’ve even laid hands on a treasure-like fellow!*
Azar looked at the wagon with a drooping canopy and smiled vulgarly.
Then, the mercenaries’ march stopped.
They seemed flustered, their gazes gathering in one place as they grew noisy.
“What the…? Those guys!”
“Could it be… bandits?”
“No, it can’t be. Their equipment is too good for that.”
Azar also directed his gaze there at the mercenaries’ words.
A group stood in the path ahead.
Their equipment was far too expensive for bandits, and among them was a particularly noticeable figure.
It was a man wearing a crow mask they had never seen before.
“Their outfit is strange? A crow mask? If they’re wearing a beast mask… aren’t those Nod tribesmen?”
“Nodins…? Could it be those marauders…!”
The mercenaries raised their weapons in unison.
“It’s an ambush!”