Malt’s wounds were healing up nicely.
The grand total of injuries that he received from the stomping turned out to be two sprained ankles, a dislocated arm, a broken collarbone, and a couple fractured ribs.
Sure it wasn’t optimal, yet it could be inferred that he was in fact lucky to have escaped with such ‘minor’ wounds.
The khods, while certainly able to talk themselves up, didn’t give him anything more than a few bruises. They lacked the commitment to really hurt another person, thus since covered his vitals, they were more or less harmless.
But Pavel, he was different. His blows were heavy and viscous, so much so that trying to minimize the damage was largely futile. Even glancing blows contained enough power to crack bone and tear skin.
Yet while receiving the brunt of his violence, Malt learned a vital piece of information about him.
Pavel was still very much killable. Sure, he was the strongest person in the village. But even so, he bled just as easy as any human. His skin was no different than a regular person’s, so Malt reasoned that it could be pierced just as easily.
The rumors he’d heard prompted him to think of Pavel as some kind of beast, a monster that didn’t obey the rules of conventional thought. Maybe it was some kind of magic of this world, maybe he possessed some kind of racial trait of beastmen that made him immensely powerful.
He’d let his imagination run wild, thinking of all the fantastical explanations as to why people were so afraid of Pavel. It was a different world after all.
But no. There was one prevailing truth wherever he went, whether it be the battlefield or the capital, whether it was on earth or in this world: if it breathes, it can be killed.
He was confident he could kill Pavel. Likely not on a pitched, one on one fight, but he was never required to do it that way.
A knife into the jugular would do. Or he could simply mix a healthy dose of poison into his next meal. Hell, he could just throw a potent bundle of dried pinkgrass into his face and he’d be a coughing mess within seconds.
For every strength beastmen had over humans, they had an equal and often devastating weakness.
If he took advantage of this fact, it would be possible, even easy to get rid of Pavel.
But there was a catch, of course.
***
“Six weeks!?”
Nadia, arms crossed and unbudging, scowled.
“Six weeks is lucky considering how bad your wounds are.”
She sat down on the chair next to his bed, taking up her needle and fabrics once again. She, the siblings, and even Mari had come to visit over the past few days, sitting on that very chair that they’d taken from the kitchen.
Although he felt blessed to even have people to visit him whilst he was recovering, he’d also twigged that some of the people listed were visiting out of a sense of guilt, amongst other things.
Malt eased himself back onto the bed, staring at the same ceiling that he’d grown accustomed to as of late.
“Man...six weeks? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Six weeks is unreasonably short for two fractured ribs and a broken collarbone. I think mother was taking into account how quickly you healed from your previous injuries as well.”
“I mean, I guesss. I feel pretty okay now though?”
She shook her head, “If it were anyone else, I think two months would’ve been more appropriate.”
Malt let out a forlorn sigh as he relaxed his body once again in an attempt to ease the aching.
“But still, this is gonna be so boring.”
She furrowed her brows stubbornly.
“All you have to do is lay there and be pampered for the next month. You’ve nowhere else to be, have you?”
He gave a small chuckle,
“Well, I suppose you’re right.”
But she wasn’t. This was in fact a critical time.
From what he’d heard from Nadia and Mari, Pavel had even gone as far as to bring the two khods into the village. They had the audacity to walk around and demand hospitality from the village folk. The two being apparent buds with Pavel, no one was confident enough, or rather, dumb enough, to refuse.
Besides them just being general menaces, this incident foreshadowed something much more sinister.
The group that the three were likely associated with, Rudd’s band of deserters (not that he knew much about this Rudd person), were almost definitely an unsavory, militaristic group. And if they were operating in that mindset, it was something that Malt actually had insight in.
The two khods were likely scouts, but not in the usual sense. Scouts in this world’s armies were usually experienced riders or former hunters, able to navigate the land and spot enemies.
They were not only tasked with overwatch though, it was also their duty to make detailed maps of the area and to mark out specific locations that enemies would likely make camp, or had already made camp.
This on top of having to remain unseen, disrupt supply lines, and even harass bodies of troops, meant that scouts were more likely than not some of the most experienced veterans in actual combat.
No matter how you looked at it, and no matter how unskilled or numbered this band of deserters was, there was no way that the two khods he’d encountered were their most experienced bunch.
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No, they were probably meant to be disposable pawns. They weren’t meant to scout for any useful information, but to be used as experimental rats to test the village’s reaction to them being there.
The implications were disturbing. Rudd’s band potentially harboured a large number of deserters and contained some rather bright, albeit twisted minds.
And what could he do about it? Nothing.
He clenched his fist in silent frustration, and it must’ve shown on his face too.
Nadia looked down, speaking in a more careful voice than usual.
“Malt...on that day, when you picked up that sword you…”
She gulped, trying to articulate her words as to not sound crass or rude.
“When did you...how? I mean, who are you?”
He’d figured that she might have seen him even though the windows were barricaded, and it turned out that he was correct.
He pondered for a moment.
There was really no downside to telling her about what he’d done before coming here. In fact, she’d probably find out even if he didn’t admit it.
“Well, give me your best bet first.”
“At first, I was thinking that you were a bandit like everyone else.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“But now, I’m thinking...maybe an adventurer?”
His brow raised in surprise.
“Damn, there’re actually adventurers here?”
Although slightly confused about his strange remark, she nodded.
“Adventuring used to be big business a few decades back. When the human kingdoms expanded, they needed people to go out and explore.”
“Huh, so like the frontier then?”
“Frontier?”
He waved it off,
“Nah don’t worry about it. Anyway, you’re pretty close. I was a soldier.”
“I see...a soldier, huh?”
She sat, processing the information. Thankfully she didn’t seem to be all that put off by the idea.
“Then what kingdom were you figh-”
“Nadia dear, can you start dinner for me please?”
Reacting to the ma’am’s voice from the kitchen, she promptly stood up from the chair.
“Yes mother!”
She turned back to him once again.
“Sorry, uh-”
“I’ll tell you the rest later, you can go ahead.”
She nodded apologetically, swiftly leaving the room.
The ma’am entered the room before he could get a chance to rest.
He particularly dreaded being with the ma’am now because of her apologetic nature. It was in her personality to be kindhearted, but she was so sincere that he felt he felt kind of awful receiving so much thanks and living as a freeloader at the same time.
He could recall the time when he’d first regained consciousness, a hectic time that he couldn’t remember all too well.
The ma’am had asked him why he’d allowed himself to be pummeled for Nadia’s sake, to which he replied that he didn’t in fact do it expressly for her.
There was no real reason as to why he did what he did, just that he’d let his anger get to his head and by the time he’d regained control of his emotions, it was too late.
He’d driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t run because one, he didn’t know how agile Pavel was, and two, the three would likely just continue onto the cottage.
He also couldn’t simply kill them. The khods alone maybe, but all three of them alone and unprepared? No chance in hell. And so he tried to play dead, but that obviously didn’t work out too well either.
She made her way inside, an unfittingly troubled expression upon her face that was common as of late.
Presumably not to be overbearing, she spoke a little more softly than usual.
“Remember, if there’s anything you need, tell me. As long as it’s within my ability, it’s as good as done.”
Normally, he (and most other people) would’ve simply given a ‘thank you’ and leave it at that, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Then I’ll take you up on that offer.”
She leaned in closer, not expecting him to answer as he did but happy nonetheless.
“I need my body to be operational within a week.”
She was unwilling almost immediately, quickly realizing what he was implying.
“That’s irresponsible, if you don’t rest for at least a week then your bones will-”
“Pavel bringing the two khods here is a bad sign. I say we’ve got two, no, a little over a week to prepare for whatever they’re planning.”
The grim news made her rethink her response.
“...even so, there’s no way that I can mend your bones in a week. There’s practically no medicine that’s that convenient.”
Despite her words, her expression didn’t seem so sure. She looked as if she was recalling something from far in the past.
Malt’s eyes narrowed. It was a little rude, but he needed to push further.
“...are you sure? It doesn’t matter if it’s only for a little while. If I don’t get my body moving within a few days, we’ll be deep in it.”
The idea was shot down just as quickly as it was brought up.
“I can guarantee that if I give you to her, you’ll regret it in the future.”
“And I can guarantee you that I’ll regret it even more if I just lay here and let some bandit slit my neck.”
Her arrows narrowed and widened continuously as she thought to herself. She was being given the chance to keep her family and home safe, yet she was also risking a young man’s life by doing so. It’s obvious why she was so troubled.
But a decision did need to be made.
A forlorn sigh escaped her lips,
“That girl, she’s not the most normal of people. She might even be dangerous to you, you know?”
As she expected, the blind determination hadn’t left the boy’s eyes.
“I don’t know who this ‘she’ is, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
It was clear the decision had been made.
The ma’am made her way over to the window and peered outside, taking note of the sun’s position.
“Looks like we’ve still got time today.”
She made her way over to the door and turned around.
“Get yourself sorted, son, we’re heading out in half an hour.”
His head pivoted quizzically,
“Can I ask where we’re going?”
“To an old friend’s house.”
“A friend’s…you say?”
The sudden change in attitude and mannerism from the ma’am was jarring. Whereas she usually emanated caring and compassion, she now looked as if she wouldn’t look out of place in a suit of armor.
She possessed a certain confidence and know how, similar to that of a driven businesswoman’s back on earth.
Without turning, she answered his question.
“Yes, one I made long before you were born. She’s a human as well, not to mention a mage.”