Maklin nodded in greeting to Gerhart before looking at Ritzy, like most of the others surrounding them, though a couple of them were looking at the two floating Deathbeds.

“Uh, Ritzy, was it? You don’t happen to be a necromancer?”

When Ritzy walked away from it, the precious object he had talked about was also clear to see for everyone, and they saw that it was a skull. So, if the deathly beds weren’t enough clues, the skull with green flames in its eyesockets was the thing they needed to confirm that Ritzy was a necromancer. But it was still polite to ask.

Although it was unlikely, considering he was carrying a bow, it could still be Gerhart.

“Yep. And the lot of you would do good to remember my name since the entire continent is going to know it.”

Ritzy proudly puffed out his chest as he put his hands on his hips. Maklin smiled awkwardly.

“Hey, I thought people stopped dreaming about becoming the next Dark One when the Dark One died?”

Ritzy stared at one of the Scouts, who opened his mouth and commented to his companion.

But Gerhart stopped Ritzy before he could do or say anything stupid. He turned Ritzy toward Mognog and looked at Maklin and the guy who seemed to be the leader. No good would come from engaging in the Scouts’ taunting.

“Putting aside whether everyone is going to know Ritzy’s name or not, there are a few things I would like to inform you of before we leave.”

After a nod from the leader, Gerhart continued. Since they had been gracious enough to allow them passage and even supply them with a guide, even if it was most likely to keep tabs on them, Gerhart felt it would be right to respond in kind.

“The noble whose son we killed–”

Gerhart was interrupted by an elbow to his side from Ritzy, whose mouth he was still clutching.

“The noble whose son we ‘allegedly’ killed is Baron Michmond. I won’t assume how much you know. But I will say that Baron Michmond is rumored to have connections to people pretty high up in the Shiria Kingdom’s government and nobility. He also doted on his deceased son quite a bit. So, be ready to encounter, well, people who would come after presumed assassins.”

The Scout leader raised an eyebrow at Gerhart’s explanation.

“Thank you, young man.”

“Oh, one other thing. There’s a river a couple of days’ walk straight that way. When, and right after, we crossed it, it was very turbulent. You guys will probably be fine, but just so you know.”

“Alright. Thanks for the heads up. Be on your way now.”

With those words, the Scout leader gestured with his hands, and he and the other Scouts disappeared into the forest, leaving only Ritzy, Gerhart, Makling, Mognog, and the two Deathbeds.

Ritzy finally freed himself from Gerhart’s hand, which had clamped his mouth shut. He glared at Gerhart for a second before looking at the forest.

“Hey, Gerhart, you didn’t say anything about the zombie. Why not?”

Before Gerhart could answer, Maklin interjected.

“Uh, what’s this about a zombie?”

Since Ritzy was a necromancer, it wouldn’t be weird if there were undead beings near him. But based on Ritzy’s question, it didn’t seem like the zombie was his minion. And while Ritzy was weak, if the zombie wasn’t his, there was no reason for it to be weak as well.

And the zombie was an unexpected encounter. It probably wouldn’t interfere with their plans, but Maklin had a duty to his leader to find out what it was.

Ritzy looked at Maklin before avoiding his gaze.

“Uh, nothing special.”

Gerhart sighed. If Ritzy didn’t want to talk about it, Gerhart had to. They weren’t in a position to refuse Maklin’s questions, anyways.

Gerhart looked at Maklin.

“Long story short, there is a zombie on the loose somewhere in the forest. But it shouldn’t be dangerous since it’s just the reanimated corpse of an Apprentice Ranger.”

“Uhu. Alright, then. I guess there’s nothing to worry about.”

Maklin was a little doubtful. But he let it go as he turned around and began walking.

“You two look like you need some rest, but we should get out of the forest and this blasted rain first.”

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Ritzy dashed back and grabbed Mognog before catching up to Maklin and Gerhart. Mognog stayed continued staying silent.

When he had first been summoned, Ritzy, Gerhart, and Talia had all been surprised at his ability to converse and communicate. They had even said something about it being something only advanced undead could do.

And until he could figure out at what rank a necromancer was supposed to be able to summon a talking undead with significant military experience, Mognog wasn’t going to expose and draw unnecessary attention to Ritzy by talking when there were others nearby.

“So, uh, Ritzy.”

Maklin glanced at Ritzy as they walked.

“Yeah?”

Since no one else had said anything, Ritzy had been walking along in silence. He was also tired after his and Gerhart’s march through the forest. So, despite being curious, he hadn’t asked Maklin any questions. But now that Maklin was starting a conversation, Ritzy eagerly accepted it.

“When you said it was your first time in a while seeing an orc…?”

“Ah! Yeah, it’s crazy, right? There aren’t even any orcs around here. So, how come I, who has never left Vestor before, have seen an orc? I’ll tell you this, Maklin, that guy over there is a non-believer. If he tries to say I’m lying, don’t believe him.”

Ritzy squinted and pointed at Gerhart with an accusatory glare.

“Now, I’ll tell you how it happened. It was a cloudy day many moons ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was out on the field, working hard with my trusty steed, Betsy, when it came from out of nowhere. Taller than a tree, arms wide like horses, and muscles shining through its thick hide.”

Ritzy continued without caring about whether Gerhart and Maklin listened. He just wanted to tell his story.

“I wish I could say that such a weak monster didn’t scare me, but it did. Oh, boy, was I scared. I couldn’t even move a hair on my body. I was frightened silly. I stood rooted on the spot as I awaited my fate of certain death, for merely a nudge from the orc’s toe would be enough to squish me flat.”

Ritzy nodded gravely as if deep in thought while thinking about his encounter with an orc.

“Yet, as you can see, here I am. The orc didn’t kill me. After several moments, which, despite being short, felt like an eternity each, I braved a glance at the orc. And I found its singular piercing eye meet my gaze.”

Ritzy suddenly covered one eye with one hand while using his other hand to open his other eye as wide as possible.

“It was a gaze so powerful it even kept me from fainting. I didn't even dare blink. I thought I would be forced to see my own death, forced to stare it down as it approached me.”

Ritzy let go of his eyes and took Mognog back from Maklin.

“But a fly like me could never enter the eyes of an orc like that, not as weak as I was. No, what the orc was looking at wasn’t me. It was my horse behind me. I realized what the orc wanted, but there was no way I could give up my beloved pony to such a ferocious monster. I forced myself to move under the orc’s heavy stare. I would like to say I bravely stood in the orc’s path and blocked it. But honestly, I could barely stand up, much less block the orc’s path.”

Ritzy sighed and shook his head, eyes full of regret and shame.

“I thought both Betsy and I would be doomed there and then when the orc raised its hand and knelt down. I clenched my eyes and prepared to die. It was only when I felt the wind brush past me that I realized any attempt I made at blocking the orc would be futile.”

Ritzy looked at the horizon with an expression of grief and apology toward Betsy.

“However, the orc wasn’t hungry, as I had suspected. It was merely interested in Betsy. After a gentle pat on her back, the orc left. Still left both Betsy and me scared stiff. We couldn’t move for an entire day. Aye, what an encounter.”

Ritzy shook his head, slightly nostalgic this time, before looking at Maklin.

“Anyways, that’s how I encountered an orc. Why do you ask?”

Ritzy looked at Maklin as if he hadn’t just told a story of fear, tragedy, loss, hope, and joy.

“Um… That was a nice story and all. But I wanted to ask who made you say you thought you saw an orc. I especially want to know now that I have heard your story.”

Ritzy statement as all the Scouts jumped out from their hiding spots could have been nothing. It might have just been a way to be rude and not get blamed for drawing a weapon at the same time.

But Maklin was a big, bulky guy with admittedly slightly fear-inducing features. Although he took care of and groomed his hair and beard, he had still been called orc, both in jest by his comrades and in ridicule by others. Ritzy’s comment made him worried that he really looked like an orc.

Asking who it was like that made it obvious he wanted to know if Ritzy thought he looked like an orc. But Maklin wasn’t worried about that after hearing Ritzy’s story. Now, he was just curious about what had made Ritzy say that when he had experienced such a first encounter with something, which he believed to have been an orc.

“Oh. It was that guy in the back. I think he disappeared, but I thought I saw a big guy hiding behind you.”

“Uh….”

Maklin wasn’t sure to respond to that. He was the biggest guy in the group. He was even one of the biggest, if not the biggest, scouts in Chitron. Even many of the big-bodied warrior types couldn’t compete with him. That was how tall he was when he wasn’t doing his best to slump his shoulders and hide among the trees.

There shouldn’t have been another big guy around, especially right behind him.

“Is he your brother or something? I didn’t get a good look since he disappeared pretty quickly, but you two were pretty similar.”

Ritzy’s next words only made it even more difficult for Maklin to find a response.

“Ritzy, stop pulling the poor guy’s leg. First that outlandish story, and now a person hiding behind him? What’s next? Are you going to read his future or something?”

“Hey! I didn’t lie! Not a single time. I never lie. But that’s a good idea. Maklin, you up for some good old-fashioned palm-reading?”

“Um, no thanks. Let’s just focus on walking for now.”

Ritzy sighed in resignation, but he continued walking without saying anything else. Maklin wasn’t completely against the idea, which meant he might be up for it when they made camp for the night.

Maklin, on the other hand, didn’t have quite as easy a time to relax and let his mind focus on their surroundings and the path they were taking.

Although Gerhart had claimed Ritzy lied, Maklin couldn’t see a reason to believe him over Ritzy, especially when Ritzy had spoken with such an honest voice and gaze.

Besides, what Ritzy had said had reminded him of an old folk tale from his village. It was one less popular, and the other kids hadn’t begged to hear it as often from the old storytellers as the stories about warriors slaying dragons and saving princesses. But Ritzy’s words brought the memories of that tale springing back up into the fore of Maklin’s mind like dragged to the surface by a fishing rod.