Chapter 12

Miguel began speaking without a moment's hesitation.

"The lord's army burned it down. The villagers followed the lord's army, and that's why the village is empty."

"The lord's army? Are you saying the lord did this to the village?"

Meb asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

Miguel nodded.

"Yes, my lady."

"Why?"

"I heard the lord ordered the villagers to relocate to Ordelle City."

"Viscard, the Duke…."

Meb's voice grew somber.

Duke Viscard was the lord who ruled this region.

While she remained silent,

"It's absurd. Why would the lord burn down a perfectly fine village?"

Philip, who had just arrived and caught his breath, interjected.

"It's because of the war, Philip."

Meb replied in a low voice.

"When the war starts, it won't be possible to defend every fief. The idea is to concentrate the population in key strongholds."

It would be easier to protect the people, conscript soldiers, or collect taxes that way.

"Still, this is… too much."

Philip muttered, looking around the village.

"To destroy the place they could return to."

"Anyway, the village was going to be plundered and burned during the war."

Ian replied nonchalantly.

"They were moved and burned before that happened."

In the world he knew, Earth, countless barbaric and irrational events had occurred.

How much more so in this world, filled with all sorts of unrealistic and extreme settings.

Even if the Duke had taken the villagers to be sacrifices for dark magic, it wouldn't have been surprising.

Of course, the Duke had a different intention, which Ian knew from the game. He just hadn't expected the preparations to be already made.

"Ian, do you believe this man's words?"

Meb asked.

Ian looked down at Miguel.

"Yes, up to this point."

For a moment, relief flickered in Miguel's eyes, but Ian added,

"But I can't be sure if he'll tell the whole truth."

"…!"

Miguel's eyes widened, but Ian didn't flinch.

He intended to keep Miguel on edge, but he was also sincere.

In this world, mercenaries were often just a step away from thugs and thieves.

Most of the mercenaries Ian had seen would draw their swords at the slightest provocation and betray or deceive each other.

Especially in this backwater village, most of the mercenaries were deserters or criminals.

"Then what about those bodies?"

Ian asked, tilting his head.

Miguel, licking his lips, quickly replied,

"The village chief's family. They opposed the relocation until the end and were executed. I met the relocating villagers by chance, and they gave me some coins to bury these people. That's why I was digging graves."

Ian scanned the bodies and the graves.

Six bodies. Four graves.

Miguel's subordinates, poorly armed villagers, nodded in agreement.

This feels off.

Ian said,

"And?"

"That's all…."

"…."

"Sir, that's really all! I swear to the radiant Lusola, I have nothing to hide!"

Damn, it's true.

Ian's brow furrowed.

There was no plot, no secret, no quest. It was a dead end.

Well, if every desolate place had a quest, it would take a lifetime to complete them all.

"Do you believe him?"

While Ian was pondering, Meb asked.

Ian replied hesitantly,

"Yes."

"Is that so? I understand."

Without further questions, she nodded and changed the subject.

"I'll go around the village. There might be someone left behind."

She's thorough.

Ian clicked his tongue and added,

"Let's finish quickly and continue on our way. The sun is setting."

Meb's voice faded away.

Miguel's gaze naturally turned to Ian.

His eyes were pitiful, like a dog desperate to go to the bathroom.

Ian said bluntly,

"Do you want to die?"

"N-no, of course not. Ha ha."

Miguel's lips curled up.

"Thanks to you, I feel like I've been cleared of suspicion. I was hoping you might let me finish what I started."

Ian looked at the bodies and graves.

Perhaps because they died unjustly, a damp, resentful aura emanated from them.

If left alone, they would soon become a family of ghosts.

The kneeling villagers didn't seem to notice.

"…Alright."

"Thank you. I have another job, but I've wasted too much time here."

Miguel, who had been smooth, suddenly changed his expression and turned his head.

"What are you looking at? Get moving! Dig another grave. The sun is setting. Hurry up!"

His subordinates stood up without a word.

Philip, watching them pick up their shovels, suddenly spoke.

"Seeing you move in a group, it seems you have a big job?"

"Um, well…."

Caught off guard by the question, Miguel scratched his cheek. When he glanced at Ian, Philip asked,

"Why are you looking at our mercenary sir?"

"Mercenaries don't reveal the details of ongoing jobs. It's an unwritten rule."

"An interesting unwritten rule."

"There are too many who try to steal jobs. So, you don't have to say anything, Miguel."

Ian, who had interjected, smiled.

"Unless you see me as the same scum."

Cold sweat appeared on Miguel's forehead.

"It's not that… Damn. I'll tell you. Sir, you might have heard of the rumor about the wolf pack that only eats human flesh. It was true."

"…!"

"…?!"

Ian and Philip's eyes widened almost simultaneously. Miguel, not noticing their reaction, continued,

"They had eaten several people, including the village chief's son. A few days later, we arrived. As a former hunter, I was the only one who could take such a job…. But why do you look like that?"

Miguel asked belatedly.

"I had no intention of stealing your job, but…."

Ian, exchanging a glance with Philip, looked at Miguel with a strange expression.

"I've already taken care of it."

Ian lifted the head of the werewolf tied to the saddle.

"…?!"

While Miguel's mouth gaped open,

"I'm glad I kept the head."

Philip said proudly.

Ian nodded in agreement.

"That's how it is. I'll share the reward with you."

"I'm grateful for your generosity. I was short on travel money, so this will help. Though, it's partly thanks to you, sir."

"Since we're at it, shall I keep pressing?"

"…No, sir."

Miguel, regaining his composure, interjected.

"Sir, did you, or rather, you and the knight, encounter the wolf pack? And you defeated them all?"

Ian nodded.

"Yes."

"But I've never heard that the pack included a werewolf."

"The leader made the wolves do the dirty work. Why else would they only attack humans?"

Miguel's face twisted in disgust.

"It was a rare big job. Damn. This is a day of nothing but bad luck."

"You should consider yourself lucky. If you had met this creature with those villagers, you would all be dead."

"…."

"So, about that job."

Ian held out the head of the werewolf, Andolf, and smiled.

"Which village did you get the job from?"

Miguel, still reluctant, licked his lips.

Ian added,

"Since you'll have to tell me eventually, it's better to come clean now if you want to get the commission fee."

"…It's about two days away. A village on the way to the Red Valley."

Philip's face brightened.

"Even if we take a slight detour, we can still pass through. As long as we don't take the wrong path. I'm not very familiar with that area."

Ian looked at Miguel.

"You'll come with us. Guide the way."

Miguel blinked and asked,

"…Together?"

"Yes. Your commission will be paid when the job is completed. You'll also be responsible for the final details."

Miguel's mouth opened again.

He must be thinking, 'This guy is a day thief.'

Ian added calmly,

"So, it's best to finish the graves properly. Those people will become ghosts soon."

"Damn…!"

Miguel ran to his subordinates.

A satisfied smile finally appeared on Ian's lips.

It wasn't as he expected, but at least he had something to gain.

He looked around the darkened ruins.

Meb was returning.

Now it was time to tell her about the unexpected companion.

"Huff. Huff."

Miguel dug the grave, sweating profusely.

His subordinates were busy placing the bodies in the graves and covering them with soil.

The torches set up on the side cast their movements in a dynamic light.

Meb, with her face mask lifted, watched them expressionlessly.

"We need to reorganize our supplies before reaching the Forest of Graves."

"The people who lost family to the wolves need to know, sir."

"…."

Ian and Philip wanted it, so she didn't oppose.

But they looked uneasy.

Knights generally didn't like mercenaries.

To them, mercenaries were nothing more than potential thieves without honor or faith.

She was no different.

Ian was the exception.

"We'll have to prepare for camping again."

When Philip suddenly spoke, Ian replied calmly,

"Unless something happens. Go help them make the tombstones. I doubt they can read."

"Understood."

Philip moved away.

Ian finally turned his gaze.

The surroundings had long been shrouded in darkness. The sky, filled with dark clouds, seemed brighter in contrast.

It was the time of the monsters.

Of course, monsters weren't entirely absent during the day, and they tended to avoid large groups of humans.

But vigilance was always necessary.

Ian circulated the magic power dormant in his veins.

His darkened vision quickly became clear.

His senses naturally awakened.

Everything felt vivid.

The dry air. The scent of grass. The sounds of animals moving through the forest.

An indescribable, strange sensation.

"…."

Ian's brow slightly furrowed.

'It's not a hallucination.'

It was a very faint sensation, something he wouldn't normally notice.

Following his senses, Ian's gaze eventually stopped on Meb.

His eyes faintly shimmered.

Magic detection.

Meb, who had been watching Miguel's group, turned to him belatedly.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I haven't said anything yet."

"I know."

Ian leaned towards her and added softly,

"I was checking if you were under the influence of a dark mage."

"What's this all of a sudden? …!"

Meb's voice momentarily stopped.

She quickly removed one of her gloves and searched her waist.

Soon, a small pouch appeared.

A pouch containing tainted essence.

"Indeed, there's a change…. You couldn't feel it even though you had it?"

Meb nodded while Ian spoke.

"To me, it's just tainted magic."

"The change is too subtle for you to notice."

Indeed. If a dark mage had been spying or trying to corrupt her, Meb would have noticed.

"What exactly has changed?"

"A magic wave is emanating from it. It's faint but regular. Yes…."

Ian looked at Meb with a realization.

"This seems to be a signal."

"A signal…?"

"Yes. It would be clear to those with the same magic. It might even be tempting. They would know it's a source of power."

Meb's eyes darkened.

"Then this is attracting creatures of darkness."

"Perhaps."

So, he cherished the seeds he had sown.

His desire for revenge had overcome his greed.

Mages easily forget favors but never forget grudges.

It was exactly as the saying goes.

'Thanks to this, things are going well.'

Ian's lips curled up slightly.

They were all elite monsters.

It saved him the trouble of chasing them.

They would come to him.

The dark mage, if he knew, would have clutched his throat in frustration.

"Could the werewolf have been because of this?"

Meb suddenly said.

Ian shook his head lightly.

"Probably not. I didn't feel it yesterday. It started today. If it had been emitting this signal all day…."

"…At any time, any monster could have followed."

Meb concluded.

Whoosh.

A timely breeze swept between them.

"As they say, if you talk about tigers, they will come."

Ian murmured, still maintaining eye contact with Meb.

Her green eyes remained calm, without a hint of unease.

It seemed she had made up her mind.

"An interesting saying."

Meb lowered her face mask. Ian, reaching for his waist, suddenly realized and said,

"Philip. Bring your sword."

"Sword…? Why do you suddenly need a sword, sir?"

Philip, who had run over, drew his sword and extended it.

"Because I need it."

Ian turned his head.

On the hill, shrouded in darkness.

Under the gray clouds, a black silhouette suddenly appeared.

The shape of a mounted knight.

Except, the top of the shoulders was flat.

"Is it… headless?"

Philip muttered in disbelief.

"You haven't heard of the headless knight, I see."

Ian continued calmly,

"That's exactly what it is. A Dullahan."

A named monster from Chapter 1.

Ian didn't know it was also a servant of the dark mage.

"Headless knight…."

Philip, contemplating the silhouette, finally said,

"Sir, you were right again."

"…?"

"The kingdom is really a mess."

"…."