Chapter 44: Ghouls (1)
TL: Potato-tan
Proofreader: Asianpotato
The winter forest was quiet, broken only by the occasional gust of wind that shook the snow off the tree branches or the muffled sound of hooves on the forest floor.
Like gnarled hands, the skeletal branches of an armory tree reached up to the pale sky.
When the wind blew through their fingers, snow fell from them, or if there was no snow to shake off, they rattled and creaked.
A black horse trotted through the harsh forest, where even the tracks of animals, both predators and prey, were hard to find.
Thud, thud, thud. Snort.
The man, Russell, did not urge his horse, Kry, forward, but let him pick his own path.
He only had boots, leather pants, a thin shirt, and a coat on.
The coat, which had been Ludwig’s, was an artifact that regulated his body temperature. Thanks to it, Russell did not feel cold, even though it was early November and the chill of winter was in the air.
Of course, he could have warmed himself with his mana, but that required constant attention.
Russell took a bite out of the loaf of bread he had in his coat pocket. It was a loaf he had bought a week ago in a small village.
His supplies were running low. He still had some jerky, but it would run out by tonight. Russell hoped he would find a town at the end of this road.
He hoped it was a big village. Camping out in the cold for a week was not enjoyable, especially since there was less water available during the winter.
Lost in his musings, Russell glanced down at the pack tied to Kry’s saddle.
Inside was an unhatched dragon egg.
The egg, which Ismenios had left in her little room, was floating in the middle of a magic circle drawn on the floor and ceiling.
When Russell had entered the room, the magic circle had dimmed, and the egg had floated gently toward him.
He realized that the enchantments and spells still in the room had stopped time in that localized area. A great act of desperation from a mother for her child.
Russell had reached into the pack and touched the egg. It had felt slightly soft and yielding at first, but now it was hard.
It would not be long before it hatched, he suspected, but he could not be sure. ‘Who had ever hatched a dragon egg before?’
He removed the pack and then looked up, ahead. The road forked.
Russell looked left and right, then chose the left-hand path. Deeply imprinted in the dirt of the wide road were the tracks of a wagon.
That was a good sign. It meant there might be a village big enough to support a wagon.
He might even make it to the village by nightfall, if he was lucky. Russell urged Kry into a canter.
Without hesitation, Kry obeyed his master’s sudden command, stretching out all four of his legs.
The muscles in the horse’s legs rippled dynamically, sending vibrations through the hard ground and up into Russell. Russell rode well.
The vibrations traveled only as far as his legs and lower back. They did not travel any further because Russell’s excellent horsemanship absorbed the vibrations in his lower back.
They cantered for several minutes before Russell heard a faint scream.
He frowned and focused his mana into his ears, amplifying his hearing. The faint scream became louder, giving him a sense of direction.
He kept Kry at a canter and only slowed him to a trot as he approached a clearing in the forest where the road widened. He saw an overturned wagon and several bodies sprawled on the ground.
But the culprits were not bandits or highwaymen.
They were monsters, their black skin covered in red pustules and standing on all fours. Russell blinked.
“Ghouls?”
Russell brought Kry to a stop. The ghouls, who had been feasting on the steaming corpses, spotted him.
“Kak! Kakak!”
“Kak, kakkak!”
The ghouls turned their bulbous heads this way, and Russell suddenly appeared.
They were hideous creatures, with grotesquely elongated snouts that split into four prongs and two eyes on each side. Their four legs were double-jointed, and their skin, which secreted a viscous fluid, was sickening to behold.
Despite standing on all fours and hunching their bodies low, they were easily a meter tall. Standing on their hind legs, they would have been two meters tall.
Russell sighed and reached into his coat pocket.
Monsters prowled the world into which he had reincarnated.
Where the ambient mana was foul, beasts mutated into bizarre forms or fell under the control of evil spirits.
Alternatively, people who foolishly made pacts with demons and became afflicted themselves were known as demon-worshippers.
The intelligent races, in turn, had learned to harness mana and develop techniques to combat monsters and create safe havens for themselves by establishing civilizations, but they had not conquered every land.
In the deep mountains and forests, monsters both big and small still lurked, and it was common sense for anyone traveling through them to take at least minimal precautions.
But even so, the appearance of ghouls was unexpected. These subterranean creatures were usually associated with evil spells, black magic users, or demon-worshippers.
‘Something’s wrong.’
“Kark! Kakakakak!”
The ghouls charged, their claws scraping against the dirt. There were six of them.
The monstrous creatures rushed forward, spraying white snow everywhere, but Kry did not shy away like a normal horse would have.
Instead, he snorted and pawed the ground, as if he were excited by the prospect of a fight.
Russell smiled thinly at Kry’s antics and pulled his hand out of his coat pocket. It was a long-handled battle axe.
It was not the sort of thing one would expect to pull out of a coat pocket, but Russell did so with ease.
“Hah!”
He shouted, kicked Kry in the side with his heel, and the horse shot forward with a whinny.
The distance between the ghouls and Russell closed quickly. His right hand frost axe began to emit a faint chill.
The ghouls ran in a disorderly fashion, bumping into each other in their eagerness. Then, the one in front tensed the muscles in its legs and leapt off the ground.
In slow motion, Russell watched the creature that was about to land on top of him cry.
His mana-enhanced vision allowed him to see the world as if it were in slow motion.
The gaping maw has jagged claws at the ends of its forelegs. The teeth are gnashing, and drool is splattering everywhere.
Russell’s response was simple.
He simply raised his axe and met the ghoul’s full-frontal charge.
The force of Kry’s charge, the force of the ghoul’s leap, and the sharpness of the axe blade caused the ghoul to split in half and fall to either side.
The blood did not spray. As soon as the frost axe severed it, it became frozen solid.
There was a sound resembling ice shattering. The ghoul fell to the ground in several pieces.
The ghouls became even more agitated by their comrade’s death and leapt at him in the same manner.
Russell’s arms moved without pause. The heavy axe blade swung in wide arcs, severing one or two ghouls’ limbs with each swing and sending them tumbling across the snow.
Kry helped out by kicking any ghouls that tried to attack from behind.
The ghouls’ severed limbs froze solid as they flew through the air, then shattered.
Russell dismounted from Kry. The remaining ghouls were writhing on the ground.
He walked up to each one in turn and cut their necks with a dispassionate expression, like a skilled woodcutter felling trees.
The ghouls died without resistance, their bodies stiffening as the cold spread through them.
“Kak! Kakak!”
Just then, one of the ghouls rose to their feet and ran.
It had managed to escape the frost by having its forelegs severed, and it ran as fast as it could on its three remaining legs.
Russell watched it go, then twisted his neck and shoulders and threw his axe with all his might.
The axe flew so fast that it left an afterimage, and it caught the fleeing ghoul diagonally across its torso, severing it and three trees that happened to be in the way before it stopped.
The trees fell with heavy thuds, their branches snapping.
The ground shook, and snow fell from the branches of standing trees.
Russell stood there for a moment, letting the snow fall on him, and then he held out his hand. The axe, which had flown far away, appeared in his hand.
Russell put the axe back in his coat pocket and clicked his tongue.
Kry came over and nuzzled his cheek. He was acting docile now, unlike when he had been growling at the monsters.
Russell patted his soft muzzle, then grabbed the reins and walked toward the wagon. Disemboweled, the two gray horses that had pulled the wagon lay dead.
The wagon itself was in utter disarray, with its wheels ripped off and its frame fractured, causing it to tilt significantly to one side.
The wagon’s passengers lay sprawled on the ground, their entrails and bones bared to the weather. Their blood had turned the snow red.
Russell left Kry nearby and searched through the bodies. They all appeared to be dead, but then he noticed something twitching under one of them.
“Is anyone alive?”
Russell asked, and a faint voice replied.
“Y, Yes, I am. . . Please, help me.”
Russell carefully removed the bodies piled on top. After three or four, he saw a man lying face down.
He was middle-aged, and there was a large gash on his back. A ghoul’s claws appeared to have made the gash. Blood from the gash had soaked through his shirt.
Curled up in a fetal position, he clutched something to his chest. He lay there, surrounded by corpses, barely clinging to life.
Russell said,
“It’s okay; you can come out now. The monsters are dead.”
“I, I’m sorry, but my arm won’t move.”
Russell lifted the man’s stiff body and turned him over. The middle-aged man was holding a young boy in his arms.
The brown-haired boy lay limp and pale.
There were no visible injuries, and his chest was rising and falling with his breath, so he appeared to be unconscious.
Russell asked,
“Is this your son?”
The man smiled weakly at Russell’s question.
“Yes, my only child. Cough, cough!”
The middle-aged man suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. It was no wonder.
Monsters had inflicted injuries on him in this cold weather, and he lay there, clutching his son, surrounded by corpses. He would have died soon if things had continued as they were.
The middle-aged man raised his hand and grabbed Russell’s forearm. His grip was surprisingly strong.
With his brown eyes, the middle-aged man looked up at Russell and met his gaze.
“P, Please help me. If you continue on this road, you will soon reach the village of Logos. My son’s mother is there. I am grateful to you for killing these monsters, but please, please, take my son to the village.”
“. . . . . .”
“My wife’s name is Sally. Please take him to her. Please. . . I will pay any price, just, please. . .”
Russell listened quietly, then gently removed the middle-aged man’s hand from his forearm. The man looked devastated, thinking that Russell was going to refuse.
But Russell had no intention of refusing.
“Turn around for a moment.”
“What?”
Russell did not say anything else, and the middle-aged man turned around in confusion. As he moved his body, the muscles in his back naturally tightened, and pain shot through his wound.
The middle-aged man winced and groaned, but then his eyes widened as the pain subsided.
He turned his head to look, and he saw that Russell had placed his hand on the wound on his back.
White light flowed from his palm, healing the wound. The blood stopped flowing, and the torn flesh knit back together.
Russell slowly moved his hand up the man’s back, healing the wound as he went. The middle-aged man asked in a trembling voice,
“A, Are you a wizard?”
“No.”
Russell healed the man’s wound as best he could and then helped him to his feet. The middle-aged man stood up shakily, still cradling the boy in one arm.
Russell said,
“What I just did was only a temporary measure. Healing with mana is very inefficient. Don’t move too much, or the wound might open up again. If there’s a priest or a doctor in the village, you should have them look at it properly.”
The middle-aged man bowed his head gratefully.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Get your things. You’re coming with me.”
“W, With you?”
“I was planning on going to the village anyway. What do you think? Hurry up and get your things.”
At Russell’s words, the middle-aged man quickly adjusted the boy in his arms and went to the broken wagon to retrieve his pack.
Just then, the boy stirred.
“Daddy. . .?”
“Oh, oh, I’m here. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
As the middle-aged man comforted the boy, Russell collected the scattered bodies. There were eight in all.
A woman in regular clothes and some soldiers in leather armor were present.
But now they were all just dead bodies. Russell gently closed their staring eyes.
Even though the world was different, human lives were still fragile.
“The horses that were pulling the wagon are dead, so you can ride my horse.”
“What? Oh, no, my son and I will walk, and sir wizard can ride the horse.”
“Just get on. I don’t want to make a sick man walk. Furthermore, the presence of those monsters may increase, making it more manageable for me to ride.
“. . .Thank you, thank you, sir wizard.”
Russell was about to say that he was not a wizard, but then he stopped himself. He had used magic, after all.
He simply copied the magic that Evelyn had used on the soldier in Calisden a month and a half ago.
‘. . . What was that soldier’s name again?’
Russell shook his head and clicked his tongue to call Kry over. The middle-aged man and the boy looked at the large black horse with wide eyes. Then, the middle-aged man spoke up.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Arnold. My son’s name is Ethan.”
The boy named Ethan bowed to Russell. Like his father, Ethan was carrying his own small pack, and his face was unusually serious for a child.
Russell did not know if that was because he was determined to see his mother alive with his father, or if he was afraid of the strange man he did not know.
“I’m Russell. Get on. He won’t bite.”
Arnold climbed onto Kry’s back first, and then Russell helped Ethan up.
Russell nodded and walked ahead. The cry followed without any prompting.
They walked slowly past the wagon, the corpses, and the dead ghouls.
Arnold looked at the scene, then looked at Russell, who was walking ahead of him.
When he and his son had been returning home from a neighboring village, they had been attacked by the monsters. He had thought they would die.
He had dug through the corpses and curled up inside, determined to save his son. Ghouls, however, were cruel monsters. They did not need to eat, but they enjoyed killing and tearing flesh.
He had been holding his unconscious son tightly, desperately hoping that the ghouls would simply eat his own body and leave his son alone, until he felt the monsters that were tearing apart the corpses stop moving.
Then he heard the monsters screaming.
Despite the cold weather, the man who had killed the monsters was only wearing a coat and had a thick beard.
He hadn’t been carrying any weapons that he could see. He had killed the monsters with his bare hands.
Surprisingly, the man was also a wizard, and he had even offered his horse to take them to town.
He could have easily left them to die or just taken the money from the corpses and left, but Russell did not do so.
Just then, the son he was holding in his arms raised his head and whispered.
“Daddy, did that uncle kill all those monsters?”
Arnold nodded and stroked his son’s head.
“Yes, it seems that Lutheon has smiled upon us.”
Arnold looked back. They were already far away from the wagon. The corpses were just a blur.
Those corpses would soon return to nature. The wild animals and birds roaming the area would devour them, causing them to disappear.
They would return to the earth.
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