56 - A Guard’s Lament

I hate to brag, but I used to be fairly confident with the bow.

No, I should say I was.

Among my peers, I definitely stood a head above the rest, but in the bigger picture, I was only considered “well, decent.”

Maybe that’s why I gave up the path of a warrior and became part of the guard corps.

It was a stable job, and I thought maybe someday I’d rescue a woman from monsters and end up in a romantic relationship.

Five years in the guard corps, and that never happened. I should be glad no women ever got attacked, not unlucky that it never gave me a chance.

My name was Spinks—26 years old, a young guard, single, and looking for love.

My hobbies were reading and gardening.

Which basically meant I had none.

If at least my hobby were “practicing archery,” maybe I’d stand out more. But after seeing those truly talented, I couldn’t keep up the motivation.

Of course, being a guard also meant occasionally fighting monsters.

Although “fighting” was questionable—just scaring them off with magic usually made them flee on their own.

I saw that on my very first assignment and was honestly deflated.

People who knew the reality said being a guard was one of the easiest jobs.

I thought I was lucky not knowing that when I joined, but apparently it meant few women wanted anything to do with us.

That realization was a shock.

Worse, all the women in the guard corps already had partners.

Time kept passing, and I never found anyone.

Then it appeared.

The “Nightmare of the Forest.”

We’d been told it was dead, so finding it alive was cruel.

I only joined the guard corps because the “Nightmare” was gone.

And now this? Way too cruel.

Then came the announcement: “Due to the emergency, no resignations will be accepted.”

Great, no escape.

But at least we elves still had our strongest guardian god… oh wait, they were still recovering from injuries and couldn’t fight?

Wait. No, really, please wait.

If the “Nightmare” came to the village, I’d have to fight too, right?

And magic didn’t work on it.

And arrows barely stuck.

So what use was I?

Oh, a decoy to buy time? Got it.

I despaired.

To think I might die without ever getting a girlfriend. But then I heard they were preparing a shrine maiden.

If memory served, it was someone trained to heighten their hearing by blinding themselves, so they could detect the “Nightmare,” which otherwise couldn’t be sensed.

So… why did it have to be a woman?

But apparently since most fighters were men, having a woman suited the role better.

I thought, “Fair enough,” and accepted it.

The problem was that the chosen shrine maiden was Ashiru.

She was from the same clan as me, the Gardel clan, and she had enormous breasts.

A choice sure to fire up the men.

But to think a shrine maiden would come from Gardel—a clan famous for producing nothing but mediocrities. Unbelievable.

Maybe this would actually increase our clan’s influence a little.

Oh wait, it wasn’t about that, but a messy love affair?

Ah… Zesato’s… ugh, don’t tell me our clan’s caught in disaster?

Please spare us. Gardel was already treated like background noise—if Zesato targeted us, we’d be finished.

Sure enough, because she was from our clan, I was dragged into the “Nightmare” subjugation force.

But I wasn’t a soldier, I was a guard!

Oh, they valued my archery? Thanks, I guess.

But there were plenty at my level.

Oh, that’s why I was just a guard? Got it.

“I don’t got it, damn it!” I wanted to scream, but my opponents were above me.

Apparently this squad was formed from those considered “expendable.”

Typical Gardel—treated like trash.

It seemed survival was hopeless, but I heard the “Nightmare” sometimes spared survivors when full.

Wait, “eating” us?

It preferred elves as prey?

Where did that come from—oh, confirmed information? My apologies.

So I’d be eaten?

Sometimes just killed?

Ah, if we resisted too much, we’d just be killed instead.

So basically, fight to the death. Ha, I’m only 26!

Usually they’d spare the young, right?

Not this time? Figures.

Zesato’s… oh right, that scheming woman had set her sights on Ashiru.

That meant I’d catch the fallout too, huh?

No matter what I said, it was pointless. My clan threatened me: “Run and we’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth and kill you.”

No peace of mind, and the day of the subjugation came.

The clan head himself came the day before, saying he’d be watching me.

Did they trust me that little? My shoulders sank, but he drove the nail in: “You might run.”

I could’ve cried.

And right up until departure, he kept me under watch.

The old bastard even flattered that Zesato woman, saying, “Who would’ve thought a shrine maiden would come from our clan.”

Even as one of them, it made me want to weep.

Was Gardel really that desperate?

Even I, normally detached, could tell something was wrong.

I apologized silently for not understanding the chief’s worries.

But right before departure, I learned he’d offered me up to save his own grandson.

Fine, I’d remember that if I lived.

If.

Truth was, aside from a few, no one expected us to beat the “Nightmare.”

From the information, even with all of us, we didn’t stand a chance.

Resigned, I kept staring at Ashiru’s generous chest as we marched.

After crossing the river and moving deeper into the forest, the shrine maiden seemed to pick up a suspicious sound. But it wasn’t the “Nightmare,” so the captain snapped at her to find the real thing.

Honestly, I wished she’d just say, “We didn’t find it,” and we’d go home.

I prayed desperately, “Please don’t find it.”

And then—someone vanished right before my eyes.

The shrine maiden sensed the “Nightmare” only moments before it struck—far too late.

One by one, comrades were eaten or killed, our numbers dwindling.

(So this is the end for me too…)

Just as I gave up, something leapt at the “Nightmare” as it seized Ashiru.

A monster I’d never seen before—gray-skinned, with the build of an ogre—dragged the “Nightmare” to the ground and attacked it.

By luck, I escaped its reach and watched in shock.

The monster devoured the “Nightmare” that had slaughtered us helplessly.

Ashiru, clinging to its arm, was surprisingly pried off and carefully set on the ground.

It seemed uninterested in elves, fixated on eating the “Nightmare.”

I guided Ashiru away, but she suddenly tore off her blindfold. Seeing the “Nightmare” eaten, she fainted.

I couldn’t help shouting, “What are you doing!?”

Thankfully, it stayed focused on eating, letting us escape.

Carrying the shrine maiden on my back was an unforgettable memory.

More than that, surviving the “Nightmare” felt like I’d used up all my lifetime’s luck.

I returned to the village with news that the “Nightmare” had been devoured.

Then I was confined.

They said it was to question all seven survivors, but I wasn’t so sure.

In the end, we were released two days later.

The “Nightmare’s” death was confirmed, and the village erupted. But there was no mention of the new monster.

Apparently Zesato had restricted information.

Still, I felt cool kicking aside the clan head I’d once been beaten by, thinking, “Living through this is enough for me.”

Not long after, we were suddenly sent north.

I wondered why, but they said large footprints were found near the village.

I immediately knew it was that new monster.

I tried to shift blame onto the other survivors, but they’d already unanimously shifted it onto me.

I’ll remember that.

When we arrived, the village was in uproar.

No wonder—the infamous magic-mad witch had entered the village, leading that monster.

I muttered, “It’s him,” confirming it, and was finally released.

Though tensions ran high between Zesato’s heir and the witch, the young lady from Forshna smoothed things over.

The next day—I wanted to go home, but I had to stay another night for their convenience.

During morning training, I jogged around the outskirts.

Sure enough, the witch’s house was at the village edge, and I saw the monster standing there.

It just stood motionless.

I cautiously approached. Risky, yes, but if the Domination spell had been cast, unless the order was “kill anyone who approaches,” I’d be safe.

I drew near and spoke softly about how I’d ended up on the “Nightmare” subjugation.

It was just me muttering to myself, but I felt I should at least thank it for saving my life.

Also, since it saved someone from my clan, I didn’t want to lose the chance to admire that glorious chest.

It was pointless telling it, but I was grateful it had saved her.

Before I knew it, I’d spoken those thanks aloud.

(Ha, thanking a monster… what am I even saying?)

Wait, did it just nod? …No, must’ve been my imagination.

The spell worked fine—it didn’t move.

Yeah, just my imagination.

Anyway, that was all I needed to say, so I should head back.

Quickly, immediately.

As a guard, I couldn’t leave my post unmanned.