43

The next morning, I sluggishly rose from the straw futon that had offered poor sleep and let out a yawn.

Once you grew accustomed to Imperial-made bedding, you could no longer be satisfied with such a shabby bed—or so I thought, subtly praising my homeland.

Lately, I felt as though my luck had been poor, so I decided it was time to rely on the gods.

Incidentally, the Empire did have its own religion and something like churches.

But unlike other nations, it did not assign names and roles like “the god of this” or “the god of that.” In short, the belief was loosely summarized as: “Gods are everywhere and there are many of them, so just revere them vaguely.”

In the past, neighboring countries had apparently tried to interfere, but the Empire’s response then was—“Then that god is one of ours starting today,” completely ignoring the other side’s demands.

When a southern country arrogantly demanded, “Why don’t you revere our god?” the Empire’s reply of “We already do, what’s the problem?” was unshakable.

The details surely differed, but that sort of religious outlook had taken root in me as well, so I offered a prayer to whatever Imperial god seemed nearby.

The gods were magnanimous; they would surely accept an occasional prayer.

Surely something good would happen today.

Now then, first things first—breakfast.

I had never felt hunger, but unless I ate properly, my mood never improved.

So, when I scouted the surroundings, I found chickens.

Most likely, they had been raised here and gone feral when the village was destroyed.

“This is a great find.”

I said, offering thanks to the gods for early fortune.

It would be better to take them back for eggs rather than eat them here, which would broaden my diet.

Since I had no cage this time, I gave up, but I would return once I was prepared.

Other large birds flew about as if they owned the skies, but unlike the former Imperial lands, there were no Flyneedles here.

(I wonder where those things hide, anyway?)

I seemed to recall Imperial scholars had studied them, but they remained a mysterious monster.

Anyway, today’s catch was a wild boar.

Its meat seemed tougher than livestock, but before my jaw strength, that meant nothing.

Even though dismembering took more effort without the magic sword, I was getting used to it.

Thin slices went on the griddle.

The larger chunks I roasted directly over the fire, skewering them on iron rods to ensure the heat reached the inside.

I had charred the surface a bit, but biting into those hunks of meat was strangely addictive.

After the meal, I drank water and did the dishes at the village well.

I intended to replenish my water there too, but something about the odor made me uneasy, so I stopped.

Perhaps, when the village had fallen, someone had fled into the well and never climbed out.

That meant washing the griddle there had been a mistake.

I quickly rinsed it with my drinking water instead.

I would replenish later at another location anyway.

After cleaning up, I shouldered my pack and moved to the next candidate site.

It wasn’t far, so I went quickly.

And there I arrived at the next potential spot.

Unfortunately, there was no village.

I checked the area just in case, but indeed, there was not even a settlement.

It seemed still undeveloped.

With no choice, I moved on—but then my feet stopped.

(…I can’t remember the next spot.)

Was it beyond the mountain, or to the north of here? I couldn’t recall.

(On the map, I’m pretty sure north of here was a mountain, and beyond it the sea, right? Then I should head east over the mountain… no, maybe there was another candidate to the southeast.)

I regretted my carelessness at not making notes.

With these oversized hands, holding a pen was difficult enough, let alone writing.

I needed a countermeasure. For now, I decided to head southeast, then to the mountain.

The flatlands allowed me to move quickly, so a little detour wasn’t a problem.

By afternoon, I found what seemed to be a village.

But once again, there was no sign of people.

One thing bothered me—the buildings were largely intact.

Some were damaged, but it looked more like something had broken them, not the wear of years.

(I can’t detect any people by smell or sound.)

Using my camouflage ability, I approached the fence surrounding the village to investigate.

After circling slowly, I concluded no one lived there.

I released the camouflage and entered, but still sensed no presence.

Checking a broken house, I realized it hadn’t been destroyed years ago but quite recently.

The fence showed no sign of damage, and if it had been human conflict, the way the houses were broken was far too odd.

(It was as if something huge had smashed into them…)

If it had been a monster, then it had killed the humans without breaking the fence or destroying most of the houses.

Perhaps it only broke into homes where people were hiding.

That image of the attacker took shape in my mind.

(A population of maybe 200 at most. I can’t believe it ate them all, but why attack humans without breaking the fence? And why are there no bloodstains or smells left?)

Put together, the implication was that the culprit moved stealthily and swallowed people whole.

But I had no idea what it was.

I wasn’t a monster scholar, and my only references were old books. With this much information, I couldn’t identify it.

Still, an empty village was convenient.

I headed toward the fields to achieve my goal, but sadly the crops hadn’t grown, and weeds had already started to appear.

Clearly, not much time had passed since people disappeared.

I thought the warehouse might hold something, but it contained only food supplies ravaged by rats.

It had once been a storehouse, now a kingdom for vermin.

Closing the door, I left quietly.

The next candidate lay beyond the mountain.

Running through the night should get me there.

I strolled through the empty village, then vaulted the fence gracefully and headed for the mountain.

Since the path led through forest, my pace slowed, but with my current ability to handle rough terrain, it shouldn’t matter much.

That said, in reality, I was thoroughly impeded.

Yes, because the wild forest here was too dense.

There were too many impassable places, and when I ran, I had to knock down trees, so instead I trudged along.

(It’s like a sea of trees. I wasn’t expecting this…)

As I pushed through branches and tall plants, my ears picked something up.

(…Multiple targets. Ten… no, double that. The direction… I won’t run into them if I keep this way, but they’ll enter my sight.)

In fact, I had been hearing them for a while, but irritation from the forest had kept me from paying attention.

From their footsteps, I sensed they were human.

More than twenty of them, moving silently.

(Could these be refugees from that village?)

I decided to confirm, moving toward the sound quietly.

I thought of using camouflage, but being seen by villagers wasn’t a problem, so I just approached slowly.

Just as they were about to enter my sight, the ground beneath me collapsed on the slope.

I slid forward, stopping with both hands on the ground, and looked up.

There, I saw a familiar figure.

A mercenary carrying a greatsword—this was the third time.

I quietly watched as they shifted into combat stance, thinking, ‘I really do have ties with this mercenary band.’

But then, they started arguing among themselves.

Now, what could their goal be?