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Orc Lord
2-25. Thousands Grieve

2-25. Thousands Grieve

“Hey, Cleric! Heal!” A mercenary stumbled away from the front lines for healing and unintentionally shouted at the Cleric who wasn’t paying attention.

“Ah, y-yeah,” Samael fumbled his spell formation and quickly fed the spirits Magic Power to rebuild it themselves. This was bad. He’d had too many sleepless nights lately, and his ability to focus was suffering. It was bad enough when he was just burdened with his own worries, but after adding on a poor sleeping environment and the stress of being in enemy territory, he had maybe only gotten forty minutes of rest in the past two days.

The two older Sartiella sisters did most of the heavy lifting, fighting the most powerful monsters that appeared. The wildflower would take on the next strongest creature, if there was one, and lead the ordinary Adventurers against the weak underlings. They continued to eliminate Demonic Beasts while circling around the base of the mountain. At this point, if they descended, they would have nearly reached the South forest.

They tried to ascend upwards once, but the beasts became immensely more difficult to fight. The Knights might have been fine on their own, but the ordinary Adventurers became a burden for them to protect. Claudia ordered a retreat and had only kept them circling the base ever since.

For much of the time, Samael was relegated to the back of one of the carriages, where he was used to heal the few people who had to be dragged away from the front lines. His own uselessness added to his stress, and he wasn’t able to improve his condition in the slightest.

At a certain point, he started hallucinating. In his delirium, he saw a powerful demonic beast appear, and an Angel descend to protect them. It was pretty realistic, visually. He would have thought it was real, but the others were all just standing around, completely unaffected by the epic battle.

My life as an Adventurer is over, isn’t it? I should probably just quit after this, find a safe and low-stress job, and seek out therapy. Haaa.

***

None of the Sartiella Knights possessed the Holy attribute, so when they fought Demonic Beasts, victory was decided as much by skill as by power.

Claudia pushed her sword forward in a beautiful line, and the six-foot-tall Demonic Wolf leapt to the side. “Mages!” she shouted, and various spells formed a wall that sealed the beast’s escape path. It dug its paws into the dark soil to avoid ramming into the wall of ice, thorns, and worse and was momentarily off balance. Claudia raised her sword parallel to the earth and charged forward. She got a few good cuts in before backing off to catch her breath. At that time, she glanced at the others. This Demonic Wolf had brought its pack with it, though the subordinates were the size of ordinary wolves and weren’t as strong as their leader.

“Archers, support the mercenaries. Fire on the count of three. Mercenaries, get out of their way. Two, three!”

Over a dozen arrows fired simultaneously, and the mercenaries at the front lines all ducked their heads. Several Demonic Wolves were taken out in that instant.

The leader wasn’t going to continue just watching after something like that, so it immediately snapped its jaws at Claudia. She sidestepped out of the way and delivered a smart swing, which was also dodged.

“Those who can fight, group up. Injured, fall back.” Even when fighting a fast-paced battle of evasion, Claudia continued to give orders to the troops. Those orders had always been on point until now, so the Adventurers had come to have complete trust in their wild rose.

After a tiring fight, drawn out by the leader’s superior agility and thick, armor-like fur, the men all lowered their swords with a bit of tension. Claudia turned to face her comrades, grinned, and held her blade up high. “Now that was a battle! Great work, guys! We won!”

“UUUAAAAA!” the Adventurers raised their weapons and cheered.

Claudia smiled darkly at their excitement. Marilyn and Sylvia weren’t actually missing during this fight; they were hidden. They had been concealing themselves precisely for this moment.

In the near distance, several bestial roars shook the trees. The Adventurers’ triumphant faces immediately grew pale. How could they cry out so loudly in a place like this?! Now they were going to be swarmed by Demonic Beasts!

Well, that’s why I made you do it, idiots. Claudia used a handkerchief to wipe some blood off her face, then turned toward where most of the sound was coming from. Several large-bodied Demonic Beasts were visibly charging from the front. There were none from the back because they’d already been dealt with, and it was a long way up or down the mountain before they would find the next set of beasts. Basically, this was a controlled ambush.

The Adventurers started to panic. They drew their swords, nocked their bows, and lifted their staves. Claudia still hadn’t given them any orders, and their stress was building. Finally, when the beasts were almost on top of them, two figures made themselves visible. They were the other two sister Knights, which the Adventurers had honestly forgotten about.

“Sylvia, Marilyn, I’ll leave this to you,” Claudia called mildly.

The youngest sister’s strongest skill was her ability to command while leading at the front lines, but she wasn’t all that strong by her family’s standard. In order to secure a mentally sound expedition force, one which trusted in her commands and would remain receptive to orders even if an unbeatable enemy appeared, she intended to show them the true strength of the Sartiella Knights.

Sylvia was a woman who possessed both physical strength and flexible limbs in equal measure. She was essentially capable of maintaining her ability to swing her weapon in almost any position. As such, she had specialized in a flowing, yet unpredictable sword style which easily confused the enemy. In a pinch, she could abuse her body to treat her sword like the tip of a whip, taking full advantage of her power and adding immense speed to the strike. Claudia had seen her decapitate a bear-type magic Beast that way.

Marilyn was generally treated as the strongest of the Knight sisters, though that wasn’t true in a literal sense. Actually, Claudia could compete with her in pure physical strength on a good day, but it was certain that Marilyn was the most deadly in a fight. She had a small body with springy muscles, so she was trained in a style that emphasized speed. Of course, when it came to sharp and light swords, speed was more powerful than strength. Marilyn’s dynamic vision was also fantastic, and her brain turned quickly, so she was able to keep up with her own speed and deal lethal precision strikes as she pleased. Even if her opponent was a large-bodied tank, she could just toy around with it until it bled out from the many small wounds she inflicted.

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Finally, the silver Wyvern Marilyn kept as a pet was able to use Holy magic to recover another’s stamina, wounds, and even blood loss. With its support, she could fight with her high speed and precision style for as long as necessary.

Compared to these two specialists, Claudia couldn’t really be called strong.

It took a few minutes, but Marylin and Sylvia suppressed the group of Demonic Beasts all on their own, leaving the adventurers to look on in awe. Claudia smiled and opened her mouth one more time.

“Alright then. I hope you all can trust in us three sisters, and we can smoothly get through this expedition. Take twenty minutes to rest, then prepare to move out.” The area was cleared of beasts anyway, so they might as well use it.

A few people took the chance to have a quick snack, since fighting hard worked up an appetite. They say that flies appear whenever food comes out, and it was usually true. Despite being at the base of the Black Mountain, like magic, a grubby old man appeared. He was dressed in rags, with long, unkempt white hair and a ratty beard. His fingernails were long and yellow, his skin was smeared with dirt, and he smelled unspeakably bad.

Didn’t I see this guy’s picture in the royal encyclopedia next to “beggar,” Claudia marveled as she stared.

Shamelessly, the old man’s eyes rolled over the group, lingering longest on the three beautiful Knights. He finally settled his sights on Sylvia and approached with a meek smile and outstretched hands. Sylvia hesitantly offered him the same hard bread the rest of them were eating. It was a modest snack, but who would prepare anything better if they only had twenty minutes to rest?

The old man looked at the offering and nodded his head sagely. With swift hands, he ignored the food and stole the glittering broach Sylvia had pinned to her collar as a sign of the house she was newly wedded into. The woman was stunned, and she stared at the old man.

“C-could you possibly give that back?”

The old man made a show of stroking his long, scraggly beard. “Hmm. Perhaps, but this was expensive, you know. It’s one of the few nice things I have left--not to mention all the memories attached. What will you offer me for it?”

Sylvia’s eyes widened in shock. He had clearly just stolen the broach from her! How did it become his long-cherished possession?!

Suddenly, behind her, Claudia snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! I knew you seemed familiar, filthy bastard! You’re the Philosopher!” There wasn’t anyone in Andorin Kingdom who didn’t know about such a legendary oddball, but Sylvia was a soft-hearted girl, so Claudia made sure to remind her. “Sis, this guy doesn’t care about your broach; he has no use for money. He just wants to see you squirm!”

Tales of the Philosopher floated around like tales of household faeries, imps, and other unpleasant creatures. His legend went something like, ‘If you find an out-of-sorts old man far from civilization, and he goes out of his way to irritate you or reject your help, you might have discovered the Philosopher. Any attention you give makes him stronger; you can only ignore him and accept your losses.’

Though, that may have been a dramatized exaggeration, considering it made him sound more like a mythical spirit than a cursed and exiled Human.

“The tomboy’s right. I don’t need this,” the old man made a sober face and tossed the broach back to Sylvia. “I’ve had my fun already. Does the offer of food still stand?”

Sylvia wore a tense smile and held the hard bread out again. “Of course.”

The old man wore a refreshing smile and reached for the food. Then, with quick hands, he grabbed Sylvia’s broach instead and ran with it, cackling.

For the first time since her fiance made an early move on her, Sylvia’s smile was tinged with rage. Looking at the weak old man trotting away (a great deal slower than the speed at which she herself could move), it was hard to build up the motivation to chase him. Or rather, she felt like she would simply cut him down if she chased him here.

And suddenly, the old man vanished.

Sylvia was startled, thinking he’d used some kind of movement skill. She chided herself for underestimating a starving old man. But, upon double checking, the old man hadn’t run off; he’d fallen into a hole in the ground. It wasn’t any ordinary hole, either: the hole was inhabited by a vulture plant, which would be eating the old man alive right about now.

The Sartiella sisters walked over to the site to investigate. Beneath the soil, they could faintly hear cries of anguish, but none of the girls felt motivated to dig him out.

“Is it too mean to abandon him here?” Sylvia wondered aloud.

Claudia shook her head, “He was the scum of society, I don’t think it would be a loss.”

“Hmm, but there wasn’t any blood. Why did this vulture plant eat him?”

Marilyn pushed up her thin glasses. “This is just a thought, but, the scent coming off him was rather strong, wasn’t it? Perhaps it smelled him.”

Below their feet, the cries continued wordlessly. After realizing who they were dealing with, the girls were honestly just glad that their time with him wasn’t any longer than it had to be. But…

Oddly enough, it was Claudia who ground her teeth in frustration. Brother’s body was also devoured by one of these things.

She couldn’t take it--not considering why they were here in the first place.

“I’m going to let him out,” she stated. The other two girls backed away, while Claudia swung her blade at the earth. An enraged and swollen sickly yellow flower bud sprung up from the hole and hissed at her. Claudia rushed in and cut the thing’s stem in one swipe, quickly moving out of the way of the acid that spilled out. There were other buds in the hole, but they hissed and retreated into the shadows, wary of fighting an opponent that was overwhelmingly stronger than them.

Claudia sighed and cut through the fleshy petals. A disgusting stink wafted up with the acidic fumes. The Philosopher crawled to his knees and rolled around on the grass to wipe the stinging mucus away.

“Alright, I saved you, you slag. Return my sister’s broach and leave before I kill you myself.”

The old man coughed several times before lifting his slime-covered head. He smiled apologetically. “Thanks, but I already licked the broach, so it’s mine now. If you want it back, you have to lick it too.”

The vein hidden by Claudia’s bangs bulged up, and she started kicking the old man in a fit of rage. He was an expert at shielding the parts that he absolutely had to shield. Bafflingly, a fully trained Knight wasn’t able to genuinely injure a starved old man, and he even laughed at her.

“Kekeke. Too bad. A lot of people want to kill me, but nobody ever succeeded.” The old man grinned and rolled into the hole with the rest of the vulture plant blossoms. At the last minute, he dropped Sylvia’s broach on the grass. Judging by his expression, it was an accident.

“Aaagh! No! I wasn’t done with that yet!”

Sylvia looked down at the slimy, smudged, and sweat-stained broach and grimaced. “I’ll just get a new one,” she muttered, kicking it into the hole.

“The fuck are you doing?!” the old man cried out. “I don’t want this thing!” and he chucked it back up so that it hit her in the face. Finally, Sylvia snapped, and Marilyn had to hold her back from jumping into the hole.

“I’ll kill you, you scum!”

The old man laughed as he was swallowed by another flower bud.

“Quick, let me go! Let me save him so I can kill him myself!” Sylvia kept struggling, and she almost broke free, so Claudia came to help hold her back.

“We have to cut our losses. That guy is the type that’s impossible to win against.” The youngest had come to this conclusion after taking a minute to forcibly calm down. In the end, the Philosopher was devoured by a vulture plant, and a few thousand would-be assassins across the world grieved.