Chapter 3: The Group Walked in Single File

The group walked in single file down the animal trail. At the lead was a boy, around fourteen years of age, and he was followed by ten other kids of all sizes. Taking up the rear was a middle-aged man with red hair and a beard—Belgrieve.

“Don’t just focus on where you’re stepping. You have to be mindful of your surroundings too. How does it look up front, Pete?”

Pete, the leading boy, cautiously surveyed the area before looking back over his shoulder.

“Forest, as far as I can see.”

“No need to state the obvious. Take it all in. Don’t just use your eyes, use all five senses.”

Pete furrowed his brow, his eyes focused straight ahead. He felt the wind; he honed his ears.

“I can vaguely hear running water,” he said after a pause. “There’s also this...refreshing sort of scent.”

Belgrieve nodded to him, satisfied. “That’s the smell of devil’s dropwort. It’s a plant that only grows around clean water—meaning there’s a source of water nearby.”

The children were caught up in boisterous admiration.

“All right, let’s find the water,” he went on. “Follow the smell and the sound. But remember, you can’t focus solely on that. We don’t want to be so caught up in finding water that we run into beasts and fiends unprepared.”

“Okay,” the kids replied. Their noses twitched, and they cupped their ears as they attempted to pin down the water’s location.

As he watched over them, Belgrieve thought back to when he would venture into the mountains with Angeline. Angeline was the sort who would remember anything after doing it once. It wasn’t long at all before she could identify the herbs and wildflowers, and then discern directions from how those plants grew. In no time at all, she had picked up the techniques for concealment and sensing other presences, and made them her own. Thinking back on it now, that was more than could be attributed to a child’s high learning capabilities.

Angeline was a bundle of talent; she now had her S-Rank to show for it. The daughter of an adventurer-wannabe who had failed at the onset had reached S-Rank—he could hardly believe it himself.

Am I jealous of my own daughter? Belgrieve offered himself a mocking laugh. If only I had my right leg. He shook those thoughts from his head—there was no turning back the clock. And if he hadn’t lost his leg and returned to Turnera, he would never have met Angeline.

“What’s done is done,” he muttered, though it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

It was around that time that Pete called out, “Uncle Bell! There it is! I see the water!”

“Oh, good work.” Returning to his senses, Belgrieve looked around attentively to make sure none of the children had strayed before urging them onward to where the small, clear stream flowed.

There was ample devil’s dropwort growing on its bank, filling the air with a vivid, piercing scent. Sugar lotuses sprouted from the water, each a hefty stalk atop which a single small white flower bloomed. Once dried and boiled, devil’s dropwort was effective in soothing the lungs, nose, and windpipe. On the other hand, sugar lotus had no notable medicinal properties, but its petals were sweet, and nice to chew on.

Belgrieve instructed the children to gather the devil’s dropwort. They snacked on lotus petals as they worked, making sure not to collect too much to cause harm to the plants.

“Don’t stray too far away.”

“Okay.”

“We knooow.”

Their replies were energetic, if nothing else. Belgrieve shrugged, then found a nearby fallen tree to take a seat upon. The quiet was punctuated only by the running water, the leaves shaking in the branches, and the children romping around. He felt strangely refreshed. Was it because he was next to the river?

He quietly closed his eyes. And then, he felt something was off—a presence, and definitely not a good one. Belgrieve opened his eyes and shot up.

“Is everyone here?” he asked.

The merry children exchanged looks at Belgrieve’s sudden dreadful tone.

“Linus isn’t here.”

Pete’s statement was followed by a scream. “Aaaah! Uncle Bell!”

Seven-year-old Linus burst through the thicket. A wolf with an ashen pelt jumped out after him. It was a fiend called a grayhund, and it was pouncing with clear hostility and murderous intent.

I was careless! Belgrieve clicked his tongue as he launched off the ground. Using his right leg’s prosthetic as a support, he kicked at the ground again and again with his left leg to achieve a tremendous speed.

The moment Linus was within his grasp, he drew his sword and sliced the grayhund in two. He immediately focused his senses on his surroundings. There didn’t seem to be any additional fiends.

In his moment of relief, the stone he set his peg leg down on just so happened to be wet, causing him to do a magnificent tumble straight into the river.

“U-Uncle!”

“Linus!”

“Are you okay?!”

The kids frantically gathered around the water.

The stream was shallow, so there was no risk of drowning. However, he had landed bottom first and came out completely soaked. Thankfully, it was summer, but he had not brought a change of clothing.

Linus clung to him in tears.

“Could’ve handled that better...” Belgrieve muttered as he patted the boy on the head.

○

The covered wagon rattled and shook.

Four days after the town of Asterinos was beset by giga ants, Angeline returned to the capital of Orphen. She got her baggage in order and set off for Turnera, this time for certain. She had taken an entire month off—more than enough to take it easy. After a bit of thought, she decided she would surprise Belgrieve with her sudden return and did not send a letter.

The guild executives made sour faces once they heard of her month-long absence, but given all of her achievements, they could not flatly turn her down. Lamenting their lack of personnel and praying that nothing drastic would happen in the meantime, the guild ultimately gave their seal of approval. After all, the air around her made it clear she would have smashed the guild into a million pieces had they said anything to the contrary.

The carriage leisurely proceeded down the country road. By now, Angeline was so far out in the countryside it could very well be called the middle of nowhere. A bellowing breeze rustled the grass of the unkept plains, and in the distance, she could see goats munching on wild plants. In spite of the midsummer sun pouring down on her, the cool winds ensured she wasn’t sweating too heavily, especially when she sheltered in the shade of the canopy.

A week had gone by since she left Orphen. She had passed through a number of towns and villages. If there was a stagecoach headed in the right direction, she would hop aboard. Otherwise, she would negotiate with peddlers, offering her services as a guard. The wagon she was in now belonged to a peddler she met in Bordeaux, which was the largest town in the area. She was just one village stop away from Turnera.

As her means of transportation were limited to foot and horse, and Turnera was near the northern border with elf territory, it took a fair amount of time to get there. With her return trip in mind, perhaps she could stay for three, four days at most. But that was enough. She was fine, so long as she could take in a bit of the village air and see Belgrieve.

The truth of the matter was that if she had a horse race full speed down a straight path, she would have arrived quite a bit faster, but riding was not Angeline’s strong suit. It was not that she couldn’t ride, but she grew fearful the longer she clung to a horse racing at a speedy gallop.

Turnera had no horse-riding tradition, though they did keep sheep and goats, and even used donkeys to pull their wagons. Perhaps she would have grown used to riding had she started at a young age. However, when the fastest thing she had ever ridden had been a donkey, a racing horse made it feel like her body was being carried away, leaving her mind behind—an unsettling feeling. Even seemingly invincible S-Rank adventurers had their weaknesses.

Her large bag was stuffed full of gifts for the people back home—plant seeds, fabric, books, spices, and wine, along with a load of preserved pastries and sugar candies. Angeline grinned from ear to ear as she imagined snacking on the sweets with her father as they told tales of their time apart.

Seeing her beaming, the peddler gripping the reins—a woman with short blue hair—struck up a conversation. “You’re in quite a good mood, missy.”

“I am... I can finally go home.”

The peddler hummed in acknowledgment. “Returning to your hometown? You adventurers are a busy bunch, aren’t you? These days, especially.”

“My thoughts exactly... You can’t imagine how many times I’ve had to put off this trip due to urgent requests, but I can finally see my father... Have you heard of him? He’s Belgrieve, the Red Ogre.” Once again, Angeline’s affection barged its way into the conversation.

The peddler veered the horse with a smile. “Nah, I’m not too knowledgeable about those things. I don’t know him, but I’ll try to remember. He must be quite a strong adventurer.”

“Yes, I’m proud to be his daughter. Remember him, okay? It’s Belgrieve, the Red Ogre.”

“Belgrieve the Red Ogre. Got it.”

I’ve never heard that name before, the peddler thought. But she was a merchant, and she knew to hide such thoughts behind a business smile. Still, she knew of Angeline, the Black-Haired Valkyrie, and if he was a man worthy of Angeline’s praise, he was sure to be a formidable fighter who was simply unknown to the world at large.

Soon, they were out of the plains and into the mountains. This was still a public highway, but it rarely saw any traffic, so the carriage rattled fiercely from all the potholes and rocks in the road. They could not pick up speed at the risk of toppling sideways.

Despite the cloth on the floor, it still hurt to sit. Angeline was used to moving all over for her quests, but at this rate, perhaps she was better off on her feet. She jumped down and began walking beside the carriage—it was going slow enough to keep up without much effort.

The peddler offered a wry smile. “Sorry about the road.”

“No, it’s not your fault...”

But as she walked, Angeline suddenly got the sense that someone was watching her. She swiftly scanned the area. It didn’t seem to be a fiend—she could feel human presences in the mountain crags and the shadows of the trees.

“Hey...” She turned to the peddler. “Is there a village around here...?”

“No, not that I know of.”

Then they were bandits, no doubt about that. She could sense the hostility in their gazing eyes. She hadn’t heard of any bandits having a hideout around these parts; perhaps they had come recently, or were the wandering sort.

Angeline jumped back onto the carriage and whispered, “There are bandits watching us...”

“Eh?!”

“Shh. Calm down... You’ll be fine with me around. Pretend you don’t know,” Angeline reassured her as she placed a hand on her sword.

While the peddler looked anxious, she kept the carriage on course. The terrible road conditions still made it hard to move forwards, and as she anxiously grappled with the horse, she heard the sound of something slicing through the wind.

Angeline unleashed her sword and cut down the arrow flying towards them.

“Eek!” the peddler cried, drawing a small cross with her fingers. “Oh, Lady Vienna. Please offer us protection...”

“If only they had just kept quiet and watched...” Angeline furrowed her brow with clear distaste. She had taken up jobs to exterminate criminal organizations and groups of bandits before. This would not be her first time killing humans, but she would always feel sick afterward. She raised her voice, hoping her intimidation would put an end to the matter.

“Oi! Do you attack knowing I am the Black-Haired Valkyrie Angeline, daughter of Belgrieve the Red Ogre?! If you don’t want to die, then scram!” Their response came in the form of a volley of arrows. There were scores of them, but she cut them all down and yelled, “Can’t you tell how pointless this is?!”

Then, there was silence. She could feel the eyes leaving. It seemed they had given up. Angeline sighed in relief and returned her sword to its scabbard. But it was not long before she heard a heartrending cry from the bandit encampment. “Save me! Save me!”

Angeline turned, startled. She could not see anything, but it sounded like a child. Was this a kidnapping?

She hesitated a moment. Turnera was only a few days away. She did not want to throw herself into any new trouble now. But Belgrieve would not be proud of her if she pretended that she heard nothing and went on her way. He would not praise her for that.

Angeline was to be an adventurer who showed concern for the weak and downtrodden—she had promised Belgrieve as much.

She bit her lip. I’ll clean up and hurry on. A slight detour is nothing. One short stop on the road to Turnera.

“Wait here,” she said after a moment’s reflection.

“Hm? Oh, sure.”

Leaving the peddler behind, Angeline kicked off the ground. With her dazzling speed, she had climbed up to the bandits’ hiding spot in the blink of an eye. The bandits, meanwhile, were losing their minds over her sudden appearance and making a huge ruckus.

In their midst was a bespectacled girl, around fifteen years of age. Her hands were tied behind her back, and they were trying to gag her mouth. The girl was kicking and thrashing however she could. She wore pretty, well-tailored clothes with blue as the base color—a noble, perhaps.

Angeline turned her sword on the bandits.

“If you don’t want to die, leave her and get lost...” she spoke slowly.

The bandits were taken aback; however, the moment they realized that Angeline was after the girl, they immediately pressed a knife against their hostage.

“Hey, you! I don’t know who you think you are, but one funny move and I’ll—”

His head left his body before he could finish. No one knew what had happened—a head was simply gone from where it had been before, and a fountain of blood had erupted.

“I’m in a very bad mood right now...”

Before they knew it, Angeline was standing beside the bandit who had taken the girl hostage. The girl was in a daze as Angeline lifted her under one arm and swayed with the footwork of a vengeful spirit.

“That’s enough... I’ve warned you three times now. That’d try even the patience of Vienna above... I’ll make you regret underestimating me!”

What followed could not be called a battle. It was a slaughter. Close to twenty bandits were overwhelmed without any effective means to defend themselves, and in the span of but a few minutes were reduced to silent husks. It was their mistake; their greed had gotten the better of them. After finishing one job, they set their sights on a peddler and her guard—seemingly a prime target. It just so happened that their prey turned out to be a monster.

After achieving an easy win with her overwhelming might, Angeline let out a fed-up sigh. “Ah... I can never get used to this killing. It’s just not for me...”

She swung her sword to rid it of blood and returned it to her scabbard. Then, she untied the gag and the rope on the girl.

“Are you okay...?”

“Ack... Th-Thank you...” the girl said, staring vexedly at the marks the rope had left on her wrists. She was beautiful; her platinum-blonde hair in a half-ponytail was somewhat begrimed, but it maintained its gloss, and her skin was pristine. She had to be someone of high stature.

“Why did those bandits capture you...?”

“Yes, about that...”

The girl introduced herself as Seren. She was apparently the daughter of the lord of Bordeaux. While she was in the midst of her routine inspection of the land, she had received word that her father was bedridden in critical condition. She hopped on the fastest horse she could find but was apprehended by bandits along the way. This all stemmed from the fact that she insisted a carriage would not make it in time. She hopped on a horse herself and only took a few guards with her, all of whom had perished in an ambush along the poor roads. Alone and unable to resist, they had taken her.

“How unsightly of me... Now that it’s come to this, I won’t be able to see father anyways,” Seren said, clenching her fist. She did not cry, but it was clear that intense anger and sorrow swirled within her.

Angeline mulled this over. “You want to see your father?”

“Yes... But what’s done is done. I have no horse, and no matter how fast I might travel, it would take over four days to reach Bordeaux on foot. This is fate.”

Seren played it off with a smile. Finally, Angeline snapped, grabbed Seren by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. The girl’s blue eyes were spinning in shock.

“Um, er, Angeline...?”

“And you’re fine with that?! Isn’t he your precious father?! Don’t just give in to fate!”

Angeline picked her up and slid her way down to the carriage below. The peddler jumped up with a start when Angeline practically pounced into the carriage.

“Whoa, you surprised me there! What’s wrong, missy? What about the bandits?!”

“I took care of them. I will pay for your entire stock, and I’ll pay you for the labor too. I will do everything in my power to ensure you make a profit. Please, turn back...”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

The peddler looked between Angeline and Seren, confused. Seren was opening and closing her mouth wordlessly, unable to follow what was going on herself.

Angeline held Seren close and said, “This girl needs to see her sick father. Please...”

“Right, I’m on it,” the peddler replied after a moment. “You’re paying for everything, right?”

“Yeah.”

The peddler sighed and turned the carriage around. They proceeded down the rattly path just a little faster than they had come.

Angeline’s shoulders drooped. Going to Bordeaux ensured she would not be able to make it to Turnera—she did not have enough vacation days. Once again, she was unable to see Belgrieve. But surely, he would not have been pleased if he knew Angeline had abandoned Seren to meet him.

When she looked down, she saw that Seren was crying. The courageous girl who had stifled her emotions was now bawling her eyes out in her arms. Angeline sighed, but didn’t feel this was the wrong choice.

I’m sorry, father. It will have to be another time. But I will come home someday.

The carriage snaked its way back down the mountain path.