Chapter 248 - The Crown Prince's Virtues (5)

Hansen quickened his pace. Winter must have been approaching; the sun was setting much earlier than before. If he dawdled, he would have to sleep out on the plains. That was the last thing he wanted.

Things had been unsettling lately. Only recently, he had heard that several villages somewhere in the Central region had been reduced to ruins overnight. Rumor had it there were far too many suspicious details to blame it on human perpetrators.

"Ugh. Let's not think about that."

Merely recalling those rumors sent an unwarranted chill through him. He felt as though something might spring out at any moment from among the rocks scattered all around him.

He tried to reassure himself. This was the East, far from the Central region. But once those frightening thoughts had taken hold, he could not shake them off.

Hansen secured his bundle and hurried on. The darker it grew, the faster he walked. Perhaps his diligence had paid off.

"A village!"

He cheered at the sight of lights in the distance. Fresh energy surged through his body, exhausted after a full day of walking. He headed toward the lights at practically a run.

"Halt!"

What greeted him at the village entrance was a group of old men and women carrying crude wooden spears. Unfazed, Hansen put on an affable smile and opened his bundle for them to see.

"I'm no suspicious character. Just a merchant traveling from place to place selling his wares."

Seeing the trinkets and odds and ends inside, the women lowered their spears. The old men, however, kept theirs leveled at him, their faces full of suspicion.

Hansen sighed. This was hardly a new experience. Nor was he ignorant of what to do at times like these.

"The emperor's a son of a bitch. May Bourgogne fall into a cesspit and die."

No sooner had he spoken than the old men lowered their spears.

"Not an imperial, then."

"Indeed. Those imperial bastards would never curse their emperor, not even if they died and came back to life."

Hansen laughed inwardly. Considering how much the kingdom had suffered at the hands of imperial spies, he could understand the old men's behavior. Still, he doubted whether such a childish trick would have exposed him if he really were a spy. Of course, it was not as though these uneducated commoners had any other way of identifying one.

"As you can see, I'm a native of the kingdom."

Concealing his thoughts, he addressed the old men politely, his smile as friendly as ever.

"Count yourself lucky! Whatever else you might say about us, the people here hate those imperial bastards. Every last man in the village went down south to beat them, if that tells you anything."

"We'd have gone too if they'd taken us. But they won't have us anymore, saying we're too old."

"Oh, but you gentlemen still look hale and hearty."

The old men chuckled at Hansen's empty flattery.

"Don't be silly. Not at my age. Still, fancy deciding to go peddling at a time like this."

"It's because he's young. Young folk never know what to fear."

"He certainly came running hard for someone who isn't afraid. Seems even young folk are scared of the dark."

While the old men babbled on, the women approached.

"If you're looking for somewhere to rest, we happen to have a place in the village."

"A meal? Some warm wine? Unlike other places, ours is only half water."

They kept glancing at his bundle, evidently fascinated by its contents.

Hansen followed them into the village. He did not know whether women living in such a remote place could afford anything in his bundle, but he ought to at least lay out his wares. If nothing else, he could let them admire the trinkets to their hearts' content and try to get a free meal out of it.

But before he could unpack, just as he was about to warm himself with the wine the women had brought, it happened.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

A bell rang loudly throughout the village. In an instant, the quiet rural settlement erupted into commotion.

The women who had been eagerly waiting for him to open his bundle sprang to their feet and rushed outside. Drawn by the ominous atmosphere, Hansen followed as though entranced.

He should never have followed them. Then he would not have had to see something that would haunt his dreams.

Beyond the fence, just behind the bonfires burning here and there, crimson lights swayed.

"W-wolves?"

"Those aren't wolves! Wolves were wiped out around here ages ago! And where in the world have you ever seen wolves with eyes glowing that red?"

The old man Hansen had met at the entrance snapped at him.

"Then what are they?"

Hans pointed beyond the fence. Eerie red lights filled their surroundings. Even a rough count put them at more than a hundred.

"How should I know? I'm about to find out!"

The old man shouted, then gestured to the women gathered nearby.

"Light the fire first! With luck, the other villages will see it!"

The women nodded briefly and set fire to the pile of wood in the middle of the village.

WHOOSH!

Flames leaped from the wood in an instant. They burned so fiercely that Hansen worried the fire might spread.

But fire was not their chief concern now. It was the unidentified creatures surrounding the village. Anyone with half a brain could tell they had not come with good intentions. Those eerie crimson lights held nothing but murderous hostility. And Hansen thought their savage-eyed owners would descend upon the village before the fire could burn it down.

"Everyone, just as we practiced!"

"Looks like we'll be using what we prepared for the imperial bastards on these things instead!"

The old men and women overturned carts at the village entrance and along the fence, then set them alight. In moments, firelight blazed into the sky.

"Don't be afraid!"

"Whatever those things are, they'll bleed and die if you stick a spear in them!"

The old men shouted in reedy voices. The women encouraged each other with shrill cries, clutching spears and pitchforks as they glared beyond the fence.

Hansen watched blankly. Wherever he looked, there was not a single able-bodied young man in sight. Apparently, they had been telling the truth about every man leaving to fight the Empire.

He looked beyond the fence again. And he understood. Whatever those creatures were, these frail old men and women could never stop them. This village would soon lie in ruins, just like the villages in the Central region he had heard about.

"Damn those royal bastards."

Hansen cursed under his breath. This was all the Royal Family's fault.

What was so important about their precious cause? Independence or whatever they called it—what could people who would live in luxury for the rest of their lives even if they kept their heads down possibly want? If the Royal Family had not stirred up needless trouble, this village would never have been left with only women and old men, without a single able-bodied man.

Some claimed the queen had died protecting the capital's citizens, but Hansen did not believe it. There was no way a queen of such exalted standing would sacrifice her life for lowly commoners. Surely they had embellished the story of her being caught and killed while trying to flee.

Even if the rumors were true, it was nothing remarkable. A member of the Royal Family had died cleaning up the shit her own family had made. He saw little injustice in that. The ones he pitied were the people dragged into the war and killed for no reason. The problem was that he might now become one of them.

"We have to run! You can see how many there are. What can a bunch of old men and women possibly do?"

The women shook their heads.

"We have children here. Some can't even walk yet, and others have only just been weaned. How far could we run carrying those little ones?"

The old men took up her words.

"It's open plains all around. I don't know what those things are, but I doubt they're slower than people."

"Run, my ass. Where would we go, leaving the village we've lived in all our lives?"

Hansen quietly backed away. He was an outsider; there was no reason for him to die here. All he had to do was hide somewhere and slip away when an opportunity presented itself.

As he crept backward, he met the villagers' eyes several times. Yet none of them reproached him. They simply pretended not to notice, even as they looked straight at him.

"Poor fellow. Coming to our village at a time like this."

"If you get a chance later, find a way to slip out. The thought of an outsider dying in our village would give me nightmares."

Some of the old men even told him outright that he bore no responsibility for the misfortune that had befallen their village.

"Nightmares? What nightmares? Looks like we're all dying tonight."

"Watch your mouth! We may be old, but the mothers and children have to live!"

Hansen gritted his teeth. It was not that he felt no guilt, but his own survival had to come first. That was what he had thought, at least.

"Damn it!"

By the time he came to his senses, he was standing among the villagers, clutching a crude wooden spear.

"Why didn't you just go...?"

"Don't say another word. I don't understand myself either."

"Well, you're nothing like you were earlier."

"Still, having one able-bodied man does make me feel a little safer."

The old men laughed heartily at his belligerent reply, now that he had shed his merchant's mask.

"Just hold on a little longer. We've lit the beacon, so our lord's soldiers will come running. If we can last until then..."

"Stop being so damned naive! Why would the lord's soldiers come? Don't you know what nobles are like? They won't bat an eye no matter how many people like us die! Oh, sure, they'll come! To burn our corpses once we're all dead!"

Hansen kept shouting for no good reason, telling himself inwardly that he had had no choice. If women and even stooped old men were going to fight, he—a healthy young man—would have nightmares afterward if he ran. He scraped together courage he did not possess.

"Damn the Royal Family. Damn those noble bastards."

Inwardly, he poured an endless stream of curses upon the Royal Family. If not for the war, this village would never have been left with only women and old men. Then he would never have found himself standing among complete strangers, clutching a spear.

As he cursed the Royal Family, his fear subsided a little.

"Even if I die, I'm taking at least one of them with me."

He found a tiny scrap of courage, too.

RAAAAAARGH!

But the courage he had forced out of himself vanished without a trace the moment the creatures beyond the fence roared.

CRUNCH!

Before the roar had even ended, the villagers' makeshift barricade shattered. Burning pieces of wood flew through the air. Sparks scattered in every direction.

Through those drifting sparks, the owners of the red eyes revealed themselves. Long snouts with wide, split mouths. Grotesque bodies covered in coarse hair, neither human nor beast. They towered a good three heads above an ordinary grown man.

GRRRRR.

A dog-headed monster, half-human and half-beast, stretched its mouth wide, baring yellow teeth. It was so hideous that Hansen froze on the spot.

"We're going to die soon anyway! What's there to tremble over?"

"Are we going to make those youngsters with their whole lives ahead of them stand in front?"

Shouting boldly, the old men stepped forward. Their scrawny bodies shook so badly it hurt to watch.

GRRR.

The dog-headed monsters stretched their mouths wide at the sight of them.

"You bastards! Not one of you gets past me while I'm alive!"

One of the old men shouted, shaking his spear tip in what he meant as a threat. At that very moment, the monsters lunged.

Hansen could not even register what had happened. By the time he gathered his wits, every old man in the front row was already a headless corpse.

THUD.

An old man's head rolled across the ground, eyes wide open.

CRUNCH!

A monster stepped on it and crushed it.

Hansen was stunned. He should have run after all. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he watched the monsters ravenously tearing into the old men's headless bodies.

For a brief moment, he even hoped the old men's bodies would fill the monsters' bellies. It was a hopelessly futile wish.

PTOO!

As though on cue, the monsters chewing through the old men's bodies spat out the flesh.

Watching blankly, Hansen suddenly had a thought. Those decrepit old bodies clearly did not suit their tastes. The tender flesh of the women would certainly be more appetizing to the monsters than the bodies of withered old men.

Even he found the thought absurd. The terror must have scrambled his brains. Otherwise, he would already have thrown down his crude spear and fled, even now.

"C-come on, then! You dog-headed bastards!"

He would never have provoked the monsters like that if he had not lost his mind. He regretted it the instant he shouted. Had there really been any need to volunteer to draw their attention?

Yet his mouth kept flapping, contrary to his thoughts.

"If you're dogs, act like dogs and gnaw on some bones! How dare you come crawling in here!"

He wanted to stop, but his mouth would not obey.

"Come on! I'll beat you like the dogs you are!"

At that moment, all the monsters closed their mouths.

"Y-you understand people."

Hansen went pale at their gazes, as though they had taken his words as a challenge.

"Y-you're really clever, aren't you?"

He babbled on without even knowing what he was saying.

"Y-you'd better stop talking."

It was bad enough that even the women watching tried to stop him. But by then, it was already too late.

One of the monsters stepped forward, jerking its jaw from side to side. It was the smallest of the lot—though it still stood two heads taller than Hansen. It growled low in its throat, then approached him without the slightest hesitation.

"A-aaaargh!"

Hansen squeezed his eyes shut and thrust his spear.

CRUNCH!

A sickening sound reached his ears.

He cautiously cracked his eyes open. His gaze traveled along the shaft until he saw the spear tip touching the monster's coarse-haired chest. Slowly, he raised his head from the spear tip and saw its hideous face.

But something was strange. The monster's bloodshot eyes bulged as though they would pop out, and its jaws opened and closed. Then its eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Blood gushed from its mouth.

After staring blankly at it, Hansen threw his arms up in triumph and turned toward the women.

"D-did you see that? I killed a m-monster!"

As he babbled, forgetting the situation entirely, he suddenly sensed something was wrong. The women were looking behind him, not at him.

"D-don't tell me..."

He turned stiffly, wondering whether the monster was still alive. Suddenly, its chest heaved, and it bent forward, falling upon him.

"A-aaaargh!"

Hansen screamed and landed on his backside.

"H-help me!"

He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed, thrashing madly.

After a long while, he realized that the pain he had expected never came, and opened his eyes again.

"Huh?"

He let out a bewildered sound. A knight in silver armor stood looking down at him, a sword stained with red blood hanging at the knight's side.

The knight offered a hand. Hansen took it without thinking. With one sharp pull, the knight hauled him to his feet with astonishing ease. The monster's heavy body rolled limply to the side.

Only then did Hansen see the deep wound running across the monster's back—a sword cut that exposed the bone.

He looked at the knight again. The knight was surveying the old men's corpses scattered all around.

"If only we'd arrived a little sooner, we could have saved them."

The clear voice was filled with sorrow, yet never lost its firmness.

After that lament, the knight turned back toward Hansen and the women.

CLICK.

A hand rose to lift the helmet's visor.

Hansen was spellbound. The woman's face revealed beneath the helmet was the very pinnacle of beauty, beyond anything he had ever seen or heard of.

"You held out well."

Seemingly oblivious to him, the female knight praised the villagers with an approving look.

"You can rest easy now. Leave the rest to us."