novelraw Chapter 22 : Advice
Chapter 22 : Advice
Chapter 22: Advice
Robin’s eyes flew wide open.
At a glance, it looked like a straightforward thrust coming in a straight line, but Robin saw it.
What he saw with extreme concentration zigzagged as it moved, yet never lost its focus on his neck.
Even with his accelerated thinking, the speed was considerable.
Just slightly faster than when the King Goblin had swung its club.
He tried to knock the attack aside with the back of his hand, but he couldn’t find the right spot.
Tilting his angle, just as he had when deflecting the King Goblin’s strike, was the best he could do.
Brandok’s dagger didn’t reach the center of Robin’s neck. It grazed past his side.
But as the blade scraped rapidly across the back of his hand, the skin peeled.
“……!”
“What do you think you’re doing!”
Robin swung his foot toward Brandok’s groin.
It was a decisive strike.
But the kick of a ten-year-old child was far too easy to block.
Brandok grabbed Robin’s leg and lifted him up, leaving him dangling upside down.
“Robin, I’ve never seen talent like yours. You saw my attack, didn’t you.”
“Put me down! Calimacos! Paul! Help me!”
“Calm down. I have no intention of harming you. I apologize for my rudeness just now.”
Brandok bowed his head to Robin and gently set him down on the ground.
Robin brushed the dirt from his clothes and tried to walk straight out of the hut.
“Aren’t you curious why we’re trying to take you to Baron Tefir’s territory.”
Robin’s hand, about to open the screen, stopped.
“It’s simple. Money. We were paid quite a lot to escort you safely.”
Brandok looked at Robin with his usual calm voice.
With his face hidden by the helmet, it was hard to tell whether he was lying or telling the truth.
“Who hired you to escort someone like me.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“So you do know.”
“I won’t deny it.”
Robin’s head grew muddled.
‘The most likely one is Baron Tefir. But why?’
He wasn’t even sure whether Brandok’s words could be trusted.
Robin had never seen Brandok take off his helmet.
He didn’t even know what the man looked like.
A taciturn mercenary who did his work cleanly.
That was Robin’s impression of Brandok until now.
“I attacked you to confirm whether you were someone with talent.”
“Honestly, Brandok, I don’t know if I should believe anything you say.”
“I understand. I’d find it hard to believe too. But listen to this one thing.”
Brandok set his dagger down on the floor.
His slightly lowered voice lodged itself in Robin’s mind.
“You are a genius. And because of that, death always lies close by. Until your body fully matures, do not reveal that talent carelessly.”
“And now you’re worrying about me.”
“That’s right. It would be a shame for a young sprout that might one day change the world to be trampled before it has a chance to bloom.”
“You must have already heard that I fought the King Goblin.”
At Robin’s defiant words, Brandok let out a faint laugh.
Robin’s eyes sharpened, displeased by that.
“Don’t worry about that part. It may be strange coming from me, but this mercenary band is trustworthy.”
“Hearing you say that yourself makes it less convincing.”
“Even Felix, a mere underling, is outstanding enough to be counted among the top ten in the Stonegoth Guard. The captain has no equal among ordinary men, and the rest of us still have room to grow.”
Having said what he wanted, Brandok pushed the screen aside himself.
Sunlight filled the interior. Robin’s eyes were drawn to Brandok standing upright and the dagger lying at his feet.
“I have more to say, but I’ll leave it at that. Seems they found something over there.”
Without hesitation, Brandok stepped out of the hut.
As if his only purpose had truly been to offer Robin advice that wasn’t quite advice.
Left alone, Robin picked up the dagger Brandok had placed on the ground.
“This isn’t Brandok’s dagger.”
It was the dagger he had seen when he and Calimacos had gathered up the stolen goods.
The tip was blunt, the edge so dull that even running it across his arm wouldn’t draw a single drop of blood.
“What on earth is going on…….”
Robin tucked the dagger into his clothes and followed after Brandok.
In front of the green mountain of corpses, people he had never seen before were sprawled on the ground.
Some ten or so people lay down, while others sat and talked with the mercenaries.
Mirian waved in welcome when Robin arrived.
“Robin, I heard you found this sister’s coconut oil. How can you be so adorable.”
Before he could say anything back, he was swept into her arms, making it hard to breathe.
Only when he was on the verge of suffocating did Robin manage to escape from Mirian.
“Who are these people?”
“There was a space under the hut where the King Goblin showed up. Turns out people were trapped in there.”
Mirian pointed to the collapsed hut.
Beneath it, where Torgen had secured the entrance with supports, a passageway led down underground.
The underground space, broader than the hut itself, was filled with the stench of rotting corpses.
“There’s a village nearby, and a lot of the villagers were dragged here. These people are residents from that village.”
“Oh no… is everyone alright?”
“Thankfully, no one’s hurt badly enough that they can’t move. With some rest, they’ll be fine.”
The rescued people had medicinal herbs pressed to their wounds or were sipping warm tea.
As Mirian said, considering they had been dragged into a monster den, they were in decent condition.
“Now that Robin’s here, everyone gather around.”
A little away from the villagers, Calimacos gathered the mercenaries.
Felix had not yet woken up, so six of them sat in a circle.
“There’s a village nearby where they lived. It looks like about a three-hour walk. We’ll head there.”
“How long will we stay?”
To Paul’s question, Calimacos glanced toward the people lying down.
“We’ll stay until Felix wakes. We’ll rest up while we’re at it and stock up on supplies. You all must be tired from the fight.”
No one objected to Calimacos’ words.
The appearance of the King Goblin had been unexpected, and their minds and bodies were worn out.
Above all, they were mercenaries who knew how to take care of their own.
“Are we going to wait here until all those people wake up?”
“We don’t have to. Do you see the one who’s already awake?”
Calimacos patted Robin’s back and pointed.
A man with dark green hair and an average build was tending to the others.
“His name is Bellif, and he says there’s a wagon he hid nearby. We’ll load the people and the spoils onto it and go.”
Before climbing the mountain, the mercenary band had left their horses tied below.
If they used the horses to pull the wagons, the mercenary band would be able to move with both the people and all the cargo.
“But didn’t he say there were seven wagons? We only have six horses. Are we leaving one wagon behind?”
“Good question, Torgen. I already have a plan for that.”
The corner of Calimacos’ mouth rose faintly.
“So don’t worry, and let’s get ready to leave.”
Calimacos didn’t immediately explain the method he claimed to have prepared.
Since it was the captain’s order, the mercenaries quickly tidied the area.
They transferred every last bit of spoils taken from the goblin settlement into the wagons.
By the time preparations were complete, five of the eleven villagers had gotten up.
One of them coaxed Calimacos, saying there was a hidden storage room the goblins had kept secret.
“Oh. This is pretty good as it is.”
The place the traveling peddler—who had moved between the village and towns—pointed out was a door hidden underground.
Inside were rows of items said to have been stolen from the villagers.
“Wouldn’t it be a waste to leave these behind, hehe.”
“There’s no more room left in the wagons.”
The peddler whispered something into Calimacos’ ear.
Seemingly satisfied by the words, Calimacos let out a wide grin.
“We’ll take the goods that are here too.”
“Thank you, Sir Calimacos.”
“I trust you’ll keep what you just promised.”
“Would I dare not.”
Torgen, the strongest among the mercenaries, loaded the villagers’ belongings into the wagon.
“Torgen’s going to have a hard time.”
Brandok muttered in a pitying tone.
Robin soon understood what he meant.
“Torgen, I’m counting on you.”
“Captain… no matter what, this is…….”
“You’re the only suitable one among us, Torgen.”
After coming down from the mountain, each mercenary horse was hitched to a wagon.
One wagon carried the people who still hadn’t fully recovered and the mercenaries’ belongings.
In front of the wagon packed full of spoils from the goblin settlement, Torgen stood alone.
As the horses began to move one by one, Torgen stared at the departing line with a stunned look.
“Torgen! Why aren’t you coming!”
When Mirian teased him provocatively, Torgen ground his teeth.
“I’m coming! Hrrmph!”
Torgen’s muscles bulged.
The heaviest wagon began to move.
“Wow! A bull is pulling the wagon!”
“Shut… up!”
Torgen snapped at Mirian’s comment, but no one who saw him could hold back their laughter.
Dragging the wagon and snorting through his nose, Torgen truly looked like a bull.
“Captain, remember you promised me a bigger share.”
“Of course. Only our Torgen could bring all this back.”
At Calimacos’ assurance, Torgen pushed harder.
Robin wasn’t the only one who thought Torgen looked like he would excel even as a rickshaw puller.
As Bellif had said while guiding them, it took three hours to reach the village.
The sun was slowly sinking past the horizon, casting a red sunset glow over the village.
On the gentle hills, flocks of sheep moved together in groups.
The sight added a pastoral mood to the village.
“We’ve arrived. Welcome to Butterhills.”
“Oh my, look at those sheep. They’re so cute!”
For the mercenaries, it was an easy enough distance on foot, but for some, it was a march of death.
The people who had been freed after being captured by goblins lost strength along the way and ended up riding in the wagons.
“Hah… hah… we’re here.”
“Torgen, good work. Those muscles come in handy at times like this.”
Two more villagers were added to Torgen’s wagon.
They had initially refused, intimidated by rough-looking Torgen, but he had insisted they ride.
Mirian teased him, but Torgen simply inhaled and exhaled wordlessly.
The people of Butterhills came out to see the wagons drawn by horses and men.
It was a sight rarely seen in a village of about 500 people.
People whispered among themselves, but Bellif soothed them and sent them back.
“The sun will be setting soon, so let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
“Please do.”
Bellif led them to a wooden house.
It had belonged to a family massacred by monsters.
Despite the lingering signs of daily life scattered throughout, the house was more than enough to accommodate the seven of them.
“Good work, Bellif. You must be tired—go rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Thank you for the consideration, Calimacos. Well then, I’ll be going. Rest well, everyone.”
Bellif closed the door behind him and left.
The mercenaries all turned their eyes to Calimacos.
“Good job, everyone. Rest.”
“That’s it? You’re forgetting something important.”
“Ah, that’s right. I didn’t do that yet.”
Paul urged Calimacos with an expectant look.
Mirian blinked her eyes wide, and Torgen flared his nostrils.
Robin quietly watched, wondering what this was about.
“Shall we divide the spoils.”
Brandok set Felix down and brought over the bundles.
A massive amount of goods appeared in the living room of the house.
They hadn’t realized while hurriedly scooping everything up, but gathered all in one place, the quantity was greater than expected.
‘They’re going to divide all that?’
“Pick out whatever each of you needs.”
Mirian and Torgen rushed forward like predators eyeing prey.