SWY 59

“Ugh!”

Blood spurted from Abel’s thigh like a fountain. He stumbled backward and collapsed. The bald man grinned and stepped toward Abel, raising his arm to strike. But just then, an axe flew through the air with a heavy whooshing sound and embedded itself deep in the bald man’s back. It was Lestel.

The bald man coughed up blood and staggered, turning around.

“Gale and Max… went down that easily…?”

His eyes widened in disbelief as he muttered the names of the ones Lestel had fought. Gale and Max lay dead, their heads and chests hacked repeatedly by Lestel’s axe, their bodies brutally mangled. Blood from the two had pooled on the ground beneath them.

Lestel strode toward the bald man and kicked him in the back. As the man fell forward, Lestel planted a foot on his back, yanked the axe free, and swung it again.

“You filthy bastard, how dare you talk about putting your crotch on Shan’s face?”

Smack!

With a sickening crunch, the axe blade split the bald man’s skull. Lestel didn’t stop there, he kept hacking at the corpse’s head again and again, like he was venting his rage. Sharhan hurried over to stop him.

“Lestel! Stop it. He’s already dead.”

Only then did Lestel pause, panting heavily. Sharhan clicked his tongue at the sight of him. The clean look Lestel had after finally washing last night was long gone, replaced by a blood-soaked mess.

“Look at you. That bath was a waste.”

Blood had splattered onto Lestel’s forehead and now trickled down toward his eyes, making him blink rapidly in discomfort. Shaking his head, Sharhan wiped Lestel’s face with his hand.

“It’s all their blood. I’m not hurt,” Lestel muttered, letting Sharhan touch his face.

“I can tell just by looking.”

“I was sure I wouldn’t get hurt unless I did it to myself…”

He tossed aside the axe and pulled Sharhan into a one-armed embrace, murmuring softly.

“You think getting hurt is up to you? You arrogant little noble.”

“…Was I arrogant?”

“You didn’t know? Usually you’re not, but sometimes, just sometimes, I see this arrogance in you, like you think everything should go your way.”

That must have been instinct, ingrained into him after growing up as the heir of a powerful noble house with status and wealth.

“Hah, was that it?”

Lestel exhaled a hollow breath, his arm trembling again. His entire body was shaking so much that even Sharhan, held in his embrace, felt dizzy. Sharhan furrowed his brow, about to speak, when–

“Sharhan.”

A faint, fragile voice called his name, like it might die out any second. Sharhan startled and quickly pushed Lestel away, rushing to Abel.

Abel was still pressing a hand desperately to his bleeding thigh, forcing a weak smile. His face was pale, probably from the heavy blood loss.

Sharhan pulled out a clean handkerchief he’d taken from the carriage yesterday, tied the ends together into a makeshift bandage, and wrapped it tightly around Abel’s thigh to stop the bleeding.

“Are you okay? Think you can hold on?”

“I’ll be fine. That bastard wouldn’t have stood a chance against me a few years ago… it’s embarrassing.”

“I noticed your leg seemed stiff earlier. Is your knee in a lot of pain?”

“…A little.”

Abel hesitated, then confessed honestly.

“That’s why I told you to sleep upstairs last night!”

“I did regret it… but to be honest, it wasn’t about last night. My knee’s been getting worse for a while now. And ever since the city turned into this mess, I haven’t had any of the medicine I used to take. I’ve been sleeping in the cold every night without a fire, so my already bad knee couldn’t take it anymore.”

In this kind of environment, even a healthy person would get sick. No wonder it got worse. Sharhan sighed and helped Abel to his feet.

Just then, Derry finally emerged from the general store and clapped a hand over his mouth at the sight of the street littered with corpses, both of the Filthy Crotches and the moving corpses.

“H-he’s dead, right? The archer.”

Still gagging, Derry asked cautiously. His fire magic, strengthened by his mana core, wouldn’t die out easily. If the flames on the archer had somehow gone out, he would’ve fired again in fury. But since he stayed quiet until the end of the fight, the odds were high the man was dead.

“Probably. You did well, Derry. Thanks to you, we survived. Archers who fight from a distance are really tricky enemies.”

It was meant to ease his guilt. Derry nodded, lips pressed tightly together, but couldn’t erase the gloomy look on his face. The guilt of taking a life isn’t something others can fix. It’s something one must endure alone.

Sharhan watched Derry forcing himself to take in the horrific sight of the corpses, and patted his back. He believed in him. Derry always worked hard to grow, so he would overcome the pain of his first kill too.

As expected, after taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Derry suddenly shouted, “Herbs!” and hurriedly brought his bag. He applied the herbs to Abel’s wound, then handed him some to chew. Once the treatment was roughly finished, Lestel approached.

“I’ll support him. Give him to me.”

Abel was uncomfortable being supported by Lestel, who was taller than Sharhan. But since there might still be enemies ahead or more walking corpses to deal with, it was better to leave Abel in Lestel’s care.

“Those guys mentioned having prisoners earlier, right? Should we check that place?”

Sharhan pointed to the building the enemies had come from.

“What if there’s someone left inside?”

“If there was, wouldn’t they have rushed out to help during the fight? The archer’s been quiet too, so he’s probably dead. But we should check. If he’s just pretending and sneaks up on us later, that’ll be a headache. And if any survivors are still alive, we need to free them.”

After a moment of hesitation, Abel nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go. I’m no help in this state, so be careful.”

“Don’t worry. First, let’s take care of that one.”

He was referring to the corpse flailing outside the carriage where the group had been hiding, its upper body sticking out. The rest had been killed when the bald man went on a rampage.

“Damn bastard lord.”

As they approached the wagon, they saw the creature had no lower half. Only a decaying torso remained, trying in vain to crawl forward and reach fresh flesh. The sight was now more pitiful than frightening.

Sharhan muttered a quiet curse and cut off its head. With that, the street would be safe for the time being, so long as they didn’t make too much noise to attract more of them.

After gathering their things and reaching the trade hall building, Sharhan knocked on the wall as usual to check for any movement from the walking corpses. When none emerged, he cautiously stepped inside.

As he slowly surveyed the area, a foul stench hit his nose, followed by muffled groans. Sharhan headed toward the sound, which was coming from behind a closed door deeper inside.

Lestel had propped Abel up against the wall and asked Derry to guard him. He now joined Sharhan, gripping his axe still dripping with blood. The two exchanged a glance, then threw the door open in one swift motion.

Inside were survivors tied up by the human hunters. There were ten of them, and one appeared to be in critical condition.

Sharhan and Lestel rushed over and untied their limbs and removed their gags. As soon as they were freed, the survivors collapsed forward, gasping for breath.

“Th-thank you…”

“W-water, please…”

“Honey!”

“Lily, are you okay?!”

Some gave thanks, others asked for water, and a few scrambled to check on their captured family. The room was instantly thrown into chaos. Sharhan simply nodded and approached the one in the worst condition.

He was a man in his late twenties, covered in bruises and cuts. Completely still. Sharhan placed a finger under his nose to check, and he was still breathing.

“Is he… is he dead?”

One of the survivors asked. It was the middle-aged man who had checked on his wife right after being freed.

“He’s alive.”

“I hope he makes it…”

“Do you know him?”

“No. I don’t. But he showed up when we were being dragged off and tried to help. He had a few people with him, but they were all taken down. Wh-what happened to the hunters?”

The man asked anxiously.

“They’re dead. Including the archer. There were six of them, right?”

“Y-yes. Are you saying they’re really all dead? They were so strong…”

The man stared at Sharhan and Lestel with awe, his sunken eyes now filled with hope, like he’d found something to cling to. Sharhan pretended not to notice and turned to Lestel.

“Lestel, watch over them for a bit. I’m going up to the roof to check if the archer’s really dead.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Sharhan parted his lips to object but stopped when he saw how pale Lestel’s face was.

‘He’s been looking terrified for a while now.’

Even his fingertips were still trembling. Sharhan didn’t want to leave him behind. He nodded and approached Derry.

“…Derry, keep an eye on them.”

“Yes.”

With Derry nodding firmly behind them, Sharhan and Lestel climbed to the rooftop. There they found a charred corpse, next to a half-burnt bow. Definitely the archer. Confirming the bastard was really dead finally cleared away the unease lingering in their minds.

“Fucking bastard. Good riddance.”

Sharhan kicked the archer’s corpse, which crumbled into blackened chunks. Considering this guy had hurt Lestel, he felt no sympathy.

Now that his anger had cooled, Sharhan combed the rooftop.

“There’s food and water here. Must’ve stolen it from the survivors.”

They packed up all the supplies they found and returned downstairs. There, Derry was feeding the unconscious man herbal tea, prying his mouth open to get it in.

“How’s he looking? Think he’ll make it?”

“Doesn’t look goo–agh!”

Suddenly, the man’s eyes flew open. He grabbed Derry’s wrist and sat up in a panic. His eyes swept over the group warily until they landed on Lestel, and went wide in shock.

“Who are you people… Master?”