CHAPTER 70. I Was Fifty Last Year
The Chief of the First Base Camp.
Fixer, the mercenary captain of Abiot, stared at Oberon with wide, bulging eyes.
“Not allowed?”
“Yes, it’s not allowed. The area near the Fourth Base Camp has already become land of death a long time ago. I don’t know how much you know, Chief, but no matter what you imagine, you’ll end up seeing something beyond that.”
An unwavering tone.
Oberon stated his will in an unshaken voice, like an actor who’d been memorizing a script for a long time.
Fixer looked at Oberon for a moment.
It was then that his eyebrows—going white—twitched.
“Beyond what you imagine……? So you’re saying it’s a place to die, and we shouldn’t go. Is that how I’m supposed to take it?”
Fixer was a man unusually courteous for a mercenary.
Even while dealing with Oberon, who was far younger than him, his voice wasn’t overbearing, and there was even a measure of consideration in it.
That wasn’t because Oberon was a mage.
It was simply because Fixer was that kind of man by nature, but……
“…….”
In the eyes with which he silently glared at Oberon, there was a anger he couldn’t hide.
What, exactly, was he angry at?
“…….”
Oberon paused, briefly, at the wavering surge of that unknowable emotion.
They might be treated as mere drifters, mercenaries, but the anger of a veteran mercenary—one who had lived on sword-work for decades—was scorching hot.
But Oberon, too, didn’t seem to have any intention of bending his stance.
‘It would be a meaningless sacrifice.’
Even mercenaries who had been ground down in the Hamelin Great Forest were, in the end, people who failed to become knights.
Among them, it wasn’t that there were no experts who surpassed knights… and especially, a seasoned mercenary like Fixer would be someone whose skill didn’t fall behind knights at all.
But in the end, it would be no different from a dog’s death.
‘That place is…… yes.’
Because it is, quite literally, hell.
Even if, by some chance, Fixer were a man who had reached the realm of a Master Knight, it would be the same.
Leaving aside his realm.
The other mercenaries following him would simply be crawling into a place to die.
So the answer was……
“Yes. That’s right.”
A firm refusal.
After speaking, Oberon pressed his lower lip tightly.
Fixer’s eyes wavered. How would the anger inside them erupt?
It was something Oberon always felt—facing another person’s ill feelings was unbearably painful.
No, it was even frightening.
But Oberon steeled himself to endure even that.
An unshakable conviction.
Because what was truly frightening wasn’t the malicious emotion others directed at him, but the version of himself that would collapse because he failed to uphold his convictions.
But why was it?
“Young mage.”
The voice that leaked from Fixer’s mouth was gentle.
But that was only the surface.
The emotion laid beneath that gentleness was scorching, like a boiling furnace.
It was then that Fixer let out that heated breath.
“What in the world…… do you take us for?”
“……?”
A voice that growled like a wounded beast.
“I’d heard about you long ago. That you’re the disciple of the old war mage… and those young mercenaries who like to run their mouths, they said it, didn’t they? That you’re a genius who could be compared to Brando’s young Head of House.”
“That’s true—”
“Right, it isn’t true. How would mercenaries know the world of mages. But hearing that kind of nonsense, did it dazzle you? Did it make you delude yourself into thinking you’re some kind of great existence?”
“What are you even—”
It was then that Fixer kicked up from his seat.
Bang—!
Had he opened his Aether?
A tremendous wave of force burst out, and the tent lurched once.
The furniture inside the tent screamed, and the candle we’d lit went out at that same moment.
But the tent didn’t become dark.
Sss—
It only grew brighter than before, illuminated by the Aether pouring off Fixer’s body.
In that light.
“A place to die? Insolent. Who gets to decide that?”
Fixer’s voice continued.
“I’ll ask you. What’s most miserable to you—death? If that’s the case, why are you walking into the Fourth Base Camp with your own two feet? Do you believe in your master?”
“That’s…… not it.”
He wasn’t going to the Fourth Base Camp because he trusted his master.
It was simply—
“There’s a vile thing that must be sealed there. Destrow. Whether I live or die isn’t important.”
“Why must Destrow be sealed?”
“If it awakens…… many people will die, because…….”
Nothing but the greater cause.
That was what it was for.
It was then that Fixer burst into loud laughter.
“Hahahaha! What an arrogant bastard you are!”
As if mocking him. Or as if it was too ridiculous to endure.
But why did it look like that laughter carried self-derision?
‘…….’
Aster watched him with a flat, indifferent gaze, yet he could read the emotion inside.
“Do you think we—mercenaries of the Great Forest—are idiots who beg for your help?”
“…….”
“Or do you think you’re truly that great of an existence? Answer me, you blood-soaked brat of a mage.”
Oberon didn’t answer. No—he couldn’t.
And Fixer didn’t seem to have spoken expecting an answer. With that brutish finger, he aimed straight at Oberon and ground his words out.
“I’ve lived to this day leaning on a single sword. To your eyes it might look like the wretched life of some worn-out swordsman, but we have things we must protect too—territories we can never concede. And yet……”
“…….”
“By what right do you say it’s a place to die? Nonsense. So should we just put down both hands and trust you and your master? I had expectations because you’re Riheim’s disciple, but…… tsk.”
Fixer said that much, then turned away sharply.
Oberon could only stare silently at Fixer’s back with trembling eyes.
That broad back looked, for some reason, shabby.
‘……Ah!’
Only then did Oberon realize what mistake he’d made.
Even a dumb beast that can’t speak will naturally try to protect its territory when it’s threatened.
Humans are more complex than that, but Fixer was the leader of a group trying to protect its home.
He was, quite literally, the Chief.
And yet, what Oberon had said……
‘……I overstepped.’
A sympathy that wasn’t even his to give.
‘Am I allowed, but they aren’t? Ah—so in the end…… it’s no different from me looking down on them!’
Even though he’d said he would “protect” things, had there been a petty sense of chosen superiority mixed inside him?
That was why anger had settled in Fixer’s eyes.
Right up until the moment Fixer left the tent.
Oberon couldn’t say a single word.
It felt like a shameful secret he didn’t even know he had had been exposed. Like he’d been stripped naked—so humiliating.
The tent, darkness settled over it.
It was then that Aster’s voice came.
“Since the fire’s out…… let’s just sleep.”
“……U-um, Mage. In this 분위기—”
Raileigh spoke cautiously, but Aster didn’t care and flopped down onto the bed.
“Then stay up all night. I’m going to sleep.”
“…….”
At that carefree voice, Raileigh clamped his mouth shut.
After a moment.
With eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked at Oberon.
‘Ghn.’
Even if the party leader was that irritating mage, Oberon wasn’t someone Raileigh could ignore either.
But with him in such a low mood, it wasn’t like Raileigh could be oblivious.
Still.
“Th-then I’ll also……”
Raileigh quietly crawled into the remaining bed.
For reference.
There were only two beds inside the tent.
Dawn, when everyone was asleep.
Aster quietly got up from his spot.
‘My body…… definitely feels a lot lighter.’
He’d only slept three or four hours, but the lethargy had almost completely faded.
At this point, one cycle of breathing technique would be enough to shake off the rest.
It was a faster recovery than Oberon expected.
But.
“Tsk. Stupid bastard.”
Aster glanced at Oberon, curled up and sleeping under bedding made from hide.
Then he grabbed the back of the kid’s neck, laid him properly on the bed, and left the tent.
Zzz— zzz—
The First Base Camp, where only the sound of insects rang out now and then.
With eyes that pierced the darkness, Aster found the biggest tent in the Base Camp and went inside.
The owner of the tent was still awake, and he tilted his head at Aster’s visit.
“……Hm? What is it?”
“Nothing much. More importantly, sit down. Let’s talk.”
As if host and guest had switched places, Aster naturally dragged over a chair and claimed the table.
Fixer, the owner of the tent, stared at him.
“You look young…… but you’re truly shameless.”
“How old are you?”
“Next year, I’ll be fifty.”
“I was fifty last year.”
“……You’re a crazy bastard.”
“That’s a new one.”
“…….”
Fixer gave up on continuing the conversation on that topic.
Even with his face covered, the exposed skin clearly showed he was far younger than Fixer.
How could he be that shameless.
‘Truly a crazy bastard.’
But there were plenty of crazy bastards among mercenaries, so Fixer adapted quickly.
Still, that aside—
“I asked what brings you here.”
“Me? I came because I want to ask. What are you going to do?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Going to the Fourth Base Camp.”
“……Hm.”
Fixer didn’t answer and only looked down at the table.
A map of the Hamelin Great Forest was spread out across it, and on top of it were clear ink marks that were obviously recent.
He didn’t answer, but……
‘So you were going to go to the Fourth Base Camp somehow, in the end.’
“Hey, old man. Why don’t you just come with us?”
“……?”
“You can’t be sulking just because of one line from some greenhorn whose head’s barely dried of blood. If you’re going anyway, isn’t it better to go together?”
“……Why? No, more than that—wasn’t the decision-maker that mage?”
“He’s the puppet boss.”
The one who actually held decision-making power in the party was Aster.
And as for why……
Aster looked at Fixer and smiled faintly.
Of course, the smile was hidden by the mask.
“That greenhorn might not know how the world works, but I do.”
Back when he vented his anger at Oberon.
That Aether bursting from his entire body!
‘A strong person at that level is hard to find even among knights.’
Had Fixer read his intentions?
“You’re planning to use our boys as sword-fodder.”
“That’s a bit harsh, but it’s not wrong. In times like these, why refuse help? We should be dragging in even the ones who try to run away, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
“Hm…….”
Fixer leaned back into the chair.
This chair was huge enough to fully bear his build.
After a moment.
“Can I take it as a commission?”
“Hey, old man. I’m letting you have what you want—what more are you trying to squeeze out of me?”
“A retreat route.”
“A retreat route?”
Fixer nodded.
“Only the old hands are going to the Fourth Base Camp. The youngsters will be evacuated outside the Hamelin Great Forest.”
“A moment ago you were calling people insolent and whatnot.”
“That doesn’t mean I can sever Abiot’s line, does it? Who do you think it’s for that old hands are crawling into a place to die?”
“For the youngsters? How touching.”
“Touching? We’re desperate, is what we are.”
Fixer pulled out a piece of tobacco from his chest, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it with a match.
Soon, acrid smoke spread throughout the tent.
“The path to the Fourth Base Camp—we can find it ourselves, one way or another. It’s not like we don’t have Pathfinders.”
“But?”
“We don’t have anyone who knows the way out. And the Pathfinders we do have are… mediocre.”
“So what you’re saying is…….”
“Raileigh. I know that loudmouth well. Putting his character aside, his pathfinding is the best in the Hamelin Great Forest. Lend him to me.”
Fixer said that, then exhaled thick smoke again.
Then he looked at the youngster in a mask.
This was why Fixer had sought out the party in the first place.
‘Even if we can find the way in ourselves somehow…… in the end, it’s a heavy risk burden.’
And then a mage appeared.
With the mage’s firepower, Fixer judged, the 부족한 pathfinding capacity could be compensated for.
So.
“You’re saying we swap Pathfinders? Our Pathfinder attaches to your side, and you guide us?”
“Yeah. That’s how it’ll be.”
“You’d go that far? Getting out to the outskirts isn’t even that hard. Why not just go with your Pathfinder?”
Aster tilted his head.
But Fixer tilted his head too.
“……? Didn’t you see it on the way here?”
“See what?”
“Isn’t the Swamp Ruler in the wetland? Our Pathfinder isn’t perceptive enough to find a route that isn’t the wetland. Especially in this season.”
If not for the Swamp Ruler, they would have sent the youngsters out long ago, then headed for the Fourth Base Camp.
But because of that damn Swamp Ruler, Abiot’s Pathfinders had gone out on a separate excursion to find a way around the wetland.
That was why their feet were bound.
But then—
“What, then it’s solved?”
“……?”
Aster spoke as if it were nothing.
And what came out next was something Fixer couldn’t believe even hearing it.
“How do you think we got to the First Base Camp? If we’d gone around the wetland, we would’ve ended up at the Third Base Camp.”
“That’s…….”
Come to think of it, that’s true.
How did they come to the First Base Camp?
The wetland should’ve been guarded by the Swamp Ruler.
“……Don’t tell me. Did the Swamp Ruler go back?”
“No?”
“……Then?”
“Ah, it did go back.”
Aster picked at his ear, then extended his index finger and pointed up at the sky.
“Up there.”
“……?”
“Ah, come on. For someone advanced in years, you sure don’t catch on. It went back to the sky. Meaning……”
“……It died?”
A hollow question, somehow.
Aster nodded calmly.
“Yeah. I personally sent it up.”