Chapter 46

Lambert walked through the forest alongside the blind female bard, Alban. While Lambert cautiously searched for signs of monsters, Alban laughed cheerfully and called out to him in a familiar, somewhat annoying manner. There was no sign of her being on guard against any monsters.

Every few steps, Alban would stop to play her lute, humming a tune before continuing on her way. It seemed she was using the sound of the lute to echo around and sense her surroundings.

(Despite her excellent hearing, it's amazing that she can make it this far into the forest, blind as she is. ...But she seems too careless. Is she letting her guard down because I'm here?)

Lambert was somewhat puzzled by Alban's lack of caution.

"Sir Swordsman! So you came to this forest to see the 'Nightmare Steed' as well?"

Alban tilted her head, her closed eyes turned towards Lambert. She must have been using sound to locate him, but her movements were as if she could see him clearly.

"What's that?"

"You can't possibly not know. It's the undead steed that has plunged the 'Forest of the Lost' into the depths of terror. I don't know if someone used unnecessary necromancy, but it suddenly appeared recently. It's a terrible troublemaker, and adventurers who ventured this far have disappeared. The lord sent his private army, but none of them returned..."

"......I see. So this place is close to a town where adventurers usually come?"

"You say things that make no sense, Sir Swordsman. If you were in town, you would have heard about it, and if you were preparing, someone would have stopped you. Perhaps you haven't even visited the city of Baraila yet?"

"Yes. I came from the city of Ainzas on the other side of the forest. I had business in Ainzas, not in Baraila."

"Ha ha ha! Sir Swordsman, you seem so serious, but you're quite good at telling jokes. From here to the city of Ainzas, it's a considerable distance! Well, if you don't want to say, that's fine."

To Lambert, it was just a fact, but Alban dismissed it as a joke. However, as long as she was satisfied, it didn't matter to him. He neither denied nor confirmed it.

"But, Alban, why did you come to the forest?"

"Of course! I want to experience the power of the 'Nightmare Steed' firsthand. Sensitivity is a bard's treasure!"

For a moment, Lambert thought Alban might be joking, but her face was serious. Alban was undoubtedly a reckless person. Lambert had many thoughts about her reckless way of life, but he simply said, "I see," and continued walking.

"By the way... I overheard at a tavern in Baraila that the horse looks exactly like one that was killed fifty years ago. I don't know if it's true or not, though."

When Lambert remained silent, Alban began to tell the story of the horse's ghost with great enthusiasm and detail, even though he hadn't asked for it.

The horse, she said, belonged to a brave adventurer. While the adventurer was hunting in the 'Forest of the Lost' and resting due to an injury, a slender white horse attacked. The injured adventurer nearly lost his life, but his horse quickly overpowered and trampled the white horse to death. Enraged by the attack on its master, the white horse was left with hoof marks all over its body, its limbs shattered, and its head severed.

But the white horse belonged to the heir of a noble family. Fearful of the noble's wrath, the adventurer repeatedly stabbed the horse and finally beheaded it to apologize to the noble.

When she finished, Alban relaxed her expression and smiled.

"......That's how it goes. It must hate humans deeply. It's believed that necromancy can only affect the dead whose mana is fixed by strong emotions. The strongest emotion for a living being is hate. So, it might not be just a rumor."

"......"

"Oh, you seem a bit solemn. That's unexpected; you seemed so serious."

"No... it's not that."

Lambert's voice lacked energy. Although he denied it, he felt a sense of sympathy for the horse that had been killed to protect its master.

Just then, the sound of hooves pounding the ground interrupted their conversation, coming straight towards them.

"R-Really, it's coming!"

Alban had been enthusiastic about seeing it, but she was clearly frightened.

"Heavy... the steed is no joke."

Lambert drew his greatsword. Bursting through the trees was a large black horse. Its muscular, lean body was powerful and agile.

The steed's body glowed faintly, illuminating the dark forest. It was a makeshift body recreated by necromancy.

At the end of its thick neck, there was no head. Black blood, which never stopped flowing, dripped from the severed neck, withering the grass and creating hollows in the ground.

"......Impressive horse."

"Ke! Sir Swordsman! This horse is even more dangerous than the rumors! I thought I could escape, but this is... Standing in its path, no matter how many lives you have..."

The headless steed charged at Lambert. Lambert blocked it with his greatsword, but the force was too great, and he was thrown back. He skidded to a stop on the ground.

The steed raised its front hooves excitedly. A chilling neigh echoed through the forest from somewhere.