Chapter 174

Five more strides.

The distance between him and the magical beast closed with every passing second. Ethan locked his eyes on the writhing bulk and tightened his grip on his sword. The spot he had to land a single decisive strike on—he'd already marked it. The head, at the front.

Whump….

The instant the beast began burrowing down into the earth, Ethan pushed off a tree trunk at his feet and launched himself forward.

Whoosh.

Sharp wind cut against his cheek as he flew.

Ethan looked down and readied his attack. The long body of the beast passed beneath his line of sight, and as he raised his blade, the moment his trajectory carried him over its head he drove the keen edge down. The blade bit deep into the beast's flesh.

Skreeeeeee—!

The beast let out a sound like metal scraping metal, stopped, then twisted its head violently from side to side.

The surrounding brush and saplings were flattened and snapped off, toppling sideways under the thrashing body.

Thud! Crash!

Through the chaos, Ethan yanked his sword free of the beast's head and whipped around at once.

His gaze stopped on a long dark-brown tentacle that had sprouted from the side of the beast's body. It stretched out behind them, well to the rear.

Tap!

Ethan ran for the end of the protrusion in a single dash.

There, ensnared by the long tentacle around his ankle, was a fallen squad member.

"Ugh… ugh."

Ethan took in the squad member trying to lift his head—battered and bloody—and severed the protrusion at his ankle.

Slash!

A clean cutting sound, and the link between the squad member and the beast was broken.

But the tentacles wrapped around the man's ankle didn't release what they'd seized.

If anything, they were squeezing tighter into his skin, burrowing deeper.

"Ugh, ughh…."

Bloodless and groaning, the squad member swung whatever weapon he had at the severed remnant.

It did nothing. The cord choking his leg refused to break, refused to loosen even a fraction.

Eventually the man looked up at Ethan beside him and asked, frantic.

"Wh-what's it doing? I—I'm sure. I'm sure we cut it off at the body. Why isn't…."

"Because that's how this species works. Until the beast itself is dead, it won't disappear and it won't release its grip."

"D-dead? Until then?"

The squad member went pale in an instant at Ethan's blunt answer. He thrashed about, at a loss, then grabbed at the cuff of Ethan's trousers as Ethan dropped to one knee to check on him.

"P-please! Carry me out of here. The camp's got healers and magic tools, right? There has to be a way to get this off. While that thing's not looking, hurry—!"

"It'll catch us in no time. And when it does, getting dragged off quietly isn't how it'll end. Besides…."

Ethan glanced at the beast that was splintering its way through a fourth tree with a thunderous crash, then went on.

"Falling back means there's nothing left to protect."

Ethan pushed the squad member's hand off his cuff. Then he turned toward the noise up ahead.

"Wh-what… what are you doing?"

The squad member's voice trembled as he asked. Ethan faced forward and gripped his sword.

"I'm bringing it down."

"D-don't talk crazy!"

The cracking voice broke in every direction, and Ethan's sleeve was yanked hard. Ethan turned his eyes toward the one pulling at his clothes.

"Ngh… ughh."

He must have forced himself to his feet with everything he had. The squad member was barely keeping himself upright on one violently shaking leg. He bulged his bloodshot eyes and pushed his face up into Ethan's.

"That thing… its size. The way it moves. Those teeth, those claws! That's no ordinary magical beast. A graze means a serious wound, and one wrong step is fatal. So what's some kid like you… some greenhorn going to do about it?"

The squad member twisted his quivering mouth. Then he yanked Ethan's sleeve toward himself like he was biting into it and shouted.

"If you want to die, die alone! I—I want to live. I have to make it back alive…."

The orange of the sunset settled over the trembling voice. Ethan looked down at the man's hunched, shuddering shoulders, then answered in a flat, even tone.

"Understood."

"…What?"

"Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen."

Ethan left the dazed squad member behind and turned around again. The moment he kicked off the ground and moved forward, a scream-like cry of protest went up at his back.

Ethan didn't stop moving.

Skreeeeeee—!

The instant the beast spotted Ethan, it stopped its thrashing and reared its head. Then it opened its maw wide, as if to swallow whole the figure closing in.

Crrrack!

From the beast's ring-shaped mouth, rows of sharp teeth fanned open like a folding screen. Then, from deep down its throat, dozens of tentacles came surging out.

The tentacles writhed as though they had wills of their own.

Each one tipped with a blade-like shard, they came hurtling in, targeting every part of Ethan's body.

Hisssss!

The fragments at the tentacles' ends caught the sunlight and flashed with vicious gleams.

But Ethan didn't dodge any of them. He just gripped his sword harder and kept moving.

He knew that to end this beast in a single strike, he had to hit a vital point. Only by driving the blade through its mouth could he destroy the brain beneath its throat in one blow.

"Aaaaagh!"

It happened in a single breath. With the squad member's scream rising at his back, the two attacks crossed. The sharp shards sliced into Ethan's shoulder and arm.

Slash!

Then they punched clean through his thigh.

Thunk!

Ethan kept moving. He planted his feet at the edge of the beast's mouth, drove his sword into the gaping opening, and twisted the handle with every ounce of force in his body.

Crunch!

The sound of flesh being ground apart by the flat of the blade.

The tremor running up the sword from the enormous body felt like a death rattle. Ethan watched the green fluid welling up from the beast's mouth, then drove the blade in deeper, as if to put a final period at the end.

Thud!

That was the killing blow. In an instant the beast lost every pulse in its body and toppled sideways.

The tentacles that had sliced and punched through Ethan's body went slack like old rope and dropped to the ground.

What was left was silence.

Ethan pulled his sword from the beast's corpse. He shook the fluid off the blade, planted his foot on ground glittering with gold shards, and turned around.

"……"

The squad member sat collapsed where he'd dropped, staring at Ethan with empty eyes and no words.

But the stillness broke soon enough. Beneath a bone-white face, the man's lips began to twitch.

"You… what are you? You were definitely… hurt, weren't you? I saw it. Shoulder, arm, all sliced open. Your clothes too… I saw it clearly…."

"I'm glad."

Ethan's calm voice cut into the man's stammering.

Rustle—.

The surroundings were already coming back to life. The leaves swaying in the breeze whispered with breath, and the sunset spilling between the trunks scattered a bloody orange across everything.

Ethan met the frozen man's eyes and smiled like someone overcome with joy.

"That I could save you."

The squad member pulled his eyelids back and held his breath. He looked from Ethan, standing perfectly still, to the magical beast's corpse—several times Ethan's size—and back, then dropped his eyes to the marks the beast's tentacle had left on his own ankle.

Pfffth….

The piece of the beast that he hadn't been able to cut off or counter in any way.

It was losing its strength and crumbling.

The squad member blinked vacantly, then let out a dazed little laugh.

He'd thought Ethan was just some reckless new recruit. But the figure standing in front of him now carried an aura that couldn't be approached, a distance that couldn't be put into words.

Gulp….

The squad member swallowed past a dry throat. Then, as if answering the words from before, he muttered in a small voice.

"Yeah. I'm… glad too."

---

A day had passed since the wagon procession had cleared the Iseuk Mountain Range and reached the nearest city.

Mikhail sat across from Sally at the city's most famous restaurant. They'd decided to share a meal before heading off in their separate directions.

"You sure I can order as much as I want? I eat a fair bit, you know."

Mikhail rested his chin on his hand and watched Sally stare a hole through the menu, then answered.

"Order whatever you like. Don't worry about it."

"Hmm, well, then… maybe three plates or so….."

"Start at five. I've got a friend who can take down six or seven without breaking a sweat, so I'm used to it."

Sally blinked in surprise, then rubbed the back of his head and grinned good-naturedly.

"Well, that's a surprise. Didn't picture you having friends raised in lean times around you, young master."

"He's not starving by any means. Just eats a lot, that one."

Mikhail pictured the stack of plates piled up next to Lloyd and tilted his head. Sally chuckled and nodded, then his eyes lit up and he picked up the thread.

"Hearing that gets my competitive spirit going. All right then, I'll throw in two more plates—"

"Don't overdo it. Eat what you've got and order more if you're still hungry."

"Yessir."

Sally handed his order to the approaching server, then knocked back the cold drink in front of him.

The fruit wine kept pouring down his throat like he was driving back a thirst.

Mikhail picked up his own glass to wet his lips, set it down, and looked at Sally.

He owed Sally for a fair number of things, and he wanted to express his thanks before heading back to Salvator.

"Now that I think about it, Mr. Sally. There's something I wanted to ask."

"Hm? Sure. Go ahead."

"Are you going to keep doing this kind of work?"

"…Ah."

Sally was about to lift his third drink, but he paused. He set the glass down with a faintly bitter smile.

"Well, what else am I going to do. Pays good money. Enough that I can support the family on my own. So, yeah, looks like…."

His voice sank into something heavier as he spoke, but only for a moment.

Sally puffed out a breath and met Mikhail's eyes, baring his teeth in a generous grin.

"I'll be running flat out for a while yet. Got to earn while I can, before the anomalies get worse. Otherwise, how am I going to pay for my sister's medicine when work dries up?"

"……"

Mikhail nodded without adding anything. Sally took a sip of his drink and continued.

"By 'a while,' I mean two or three months tops. I'll bank enough to last and then head home. After that, well—peeling potatoes, whatever, anything that pays. That's the plan—"

"Mr. Sally."

Mikhail cut him off by saying his name and tapped the table lightly with his fingertip.

A beat of silence passed.

Mikhail lifted his eyes to Sally and smiled faintly.

"What if you came north?"

"…Hm? Huh? Sorry?"

Sally's eyes went round, like he'd just heard an unexpected joke. Mikhail kept the soft smile on his lips and continued.

"There's a famous tavern near the main castle in the North. They make their own corn wine and cheese, and the owner's been looking to open a branch at the lower gate."

The Northern Lower Gate. In practice, it was a place where intelligence from every corner of the continent rode in mixed up with the trade caravans.

Having Sally there would pay off down the road. Mikhail let a beat pass before he went on.

"The North has a fierce reputation, sure, but the lower gate falls under the guardian's protection. It's actually safer than most places. If you're open to it, I'd like to recommend you for the position."

"……"

"Someone who's as good with people as you are is honestly hard to come by…."

"……"

"And just so you know, the building and the startup costs will be covered. You don't need to worry about the money side at all."

Sally listened in a daze, then raised a hand and gave his cheek a light tap. The disbelief sat openly on his face.

Tap. Tap.

The tapping went on for a moment. Then a flush rose to both of Sally's cheeks and he answered.

"Young master! Of course, of course! If you'll trust me with it, I'll work myself to the bone for you!"