WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 181: The Road Home (2)
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Kyle and the others resumed their journey toward Arenbach, following the two hunters. Fortunately, Arenbach was close to Falken Bridge.
Less than half a day's walk away.
The distance from where Kyle stood to Arenbach was about the same. In fact, it was even shorter. If the two hunters he had saved from the Troll were telling the truth, they could reach the village before sunset.
At least they no longer had to worry about camping for the night.
The two hunters kept casting regretful glances at the Troll Kyle had slain, but Kyle deliberately ignored them. A dead Troll had many uses and could fetch a high price, but they did not have time to collect the spoils now.
Adrian had already provided Kyle with a considerable sum of money. It was not worth spending another night sleeping in the cold just to butcher a Troll for some pocket change.
“Um...”
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you again. You saved our lives.”
The young man with the gentle expression, one of the two hunters walking ahead, turned around and bowed.
The two men from Arenbach were named Jan and Sven. Jan, who had just thanked him, was the village chief's only son.
The chief's only son nearly died...
“But are you really not knights?”
Jan asked again. Sven's gaze swept over the eight men following behind them.
Anyone who could kill a Troll in one strike looked like a high-ranking knight from a great noble house. Yet Kyle calmly denied Jan's guess.
“Sorry, but we're not knights.”
“Then...?”
“Mercenaries. The Rusty Blade Mercenary Company.”
Kyle gestured toward the others behind him.
It was the name of the mercenary company he had encountered when taking Count Metis's commission in the past. The lie came naturally the moment he remembered it.
The others silently went along with it. News that the Ash Knights had returned to the north would spread soon enough, but there was no need for them to announce it themselves.
“A mercenary company?”
Sven, who appeared to be Jan's friend, repeated skeptically.
A Troll was a monster that several ordinary knights had to work together to kill. Its danger could not be compared to that of Goblins or Orcs, thanks to its immense strength and remarkable regeneration.
Yet they had cut down such a Troll with a single stroke and claimed to be nothing more than mercenaries. That was impossible even for an ordinary Gold-rank Mercenary.
More importantly, several Inventory Pouches hung from their saddles. To anyone's eyes, they looked less like ordinary mercenaries and more like nobles in disguise or wandering knights.
“I... see. May I ask where you're from?”
Jan, who had stumbled over his words, quickly changed the subject. Kyle answered without hesitation.
“Renavik.”
“Renavik? Isn't the festival there in full swing right now? I heard a truce with the Empire is more or less settled. With the Grand Assembly, the first in five years, just around the corner, nobles from all over the Federation have gathered there.”
“There were plenty of people.”
“You have a bit of a northern accent, but your basic accent sounds Imperial. Are you from Elandor? Ah, forgive me if that offended you. I wasn't trying to pry. I was just curious...”
“Close enough. At least I am.”
This time, Kyle did not deny it outright.
The entire continent used the same common language, but every region had its own accent and dialect. Kyle had spent his first year in this world in the Empire, so there was no hiding his accent.
“More importantly, why were you two being chased by a Troll? Did you run into one while hunting rabbits or something?”
“Well...”
Jan trailed off, looking embarrassed.
What came next was not something Kyle could laugh at, either.
“You were trying to hunt a Troll? With only bows and arrows?”
“Yes. We recently got our hands on a decent poison. A merchant who came through the village said it was a deadly poison that could bring down even a Troll in one hit. So we desperately took a chance that it might work...”
“You're out of your minds. Trolls are resistant to most poisons. Why would you do something so reckless?”
Trolls possessed not only terrifying regenerative powers but also resistance to drugs and poisons.
There were poisons strong enough to bring one down in a single blow, but such substances were so expensive that even famous assassin guilds had difficulty using them. They were not something hunters from a small village could obtain.
In short, what they had tried to do was no different from suicide.
“What else were we supposed to do? At this rate, we're all going to starve to death.”
“Sven!”
Sven snapped and raised his voice. Jan called his name in alarm.
“I'm sorry. He's not usually like this...”
“The village must be having a hard time.”
“No. Trading convoys have stopped coming through for a while because of the Grand Assembly in Renavik. It's not like we're that short on money. More than that...”
“If you have something to say, say it.”
“Do you really have to spend the night in our village?”
Sven shot Jan a sharp look.
Kyle stared at Jan with narrowed eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't mean anything by it. I just don't want you to be disappointed. Our village may be the biggest around here, but that's only by northern standards. It certainly won't measure up to what knights... no, mercenaries from Renavik are used to.”
Jan mumbled uneasily.
Kyle shook his head.
“That won't be a problem. As long as there are walls and a roof to shelter us from the wind and rain, I can sleep on a pile of hay.”
“But...”
“Does Arenbach not take in outsiders?”
“No.”
“We'll pay generously. Enough to make up for the value of the Troll corpse we left behind.”
“We can't accept that. You saved our lives.”
“Then why can't we stay? You don't reject outsiders, and it isn't as though we refuse to pay. Is it really such a difficult request to let us stay in the village for one night?”
“What I mean is...”
Jan hesitated, then finally lowered his head.
As he fell silent, the procession sank into a quiet hush.
The sun hanging overhead gradually sank lower. The dry, yellow wilderness filled with the deep hues of sunset.
Around then, Kyle caught sight of the village they had been heading toward.
Unlike the south or the Federation, Arenbach was filled with dull gray tones. Surrounded by a low wooden palisade, it was a village of several hundred people.
“Jan, Sven! You're back. More importantly, who are those people behind you?”
A member of the village watch standing at the entrance grew wary at the sight of Kyle and the long line of horses behind him.
Jan approached and spoke in a somewhat stiff voice.
“They want to stay in the village for the night.”
“What about the Troll?”
“We didn't kill it. These people saved us instead.”
“They did? Hmm...”
For an instant, the watchman's eyes went to the sword at Kyle's waist.
It lasted only a moment. His gaze quickly moved away, sweeping over the nine horses Kyle and the others rode, along with the many Inventory Pouches hanging from their saddles.
“Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Come in.”
He opened the way.
Jan glanced at Kyle once before entering the village with Sven.
Kyle instinctively drew up mana and was about to pull on the reins, but stopped.
“Kyle. What's wrong?”
Sensing something unusual in Kyle's hesitation, Hermann approached at once and whispered.
Kyle slowly looked over the village beyond the palisade.
Beneath the sunset, it looked no different from any other northern village. After standing still for a moment, Kyle spoke vaguely.
“No, it's nothing.”
“...”
“I think it'd be faster to meet them directly.”
* * *
Kyle led Hermann, Walter, and the others deeper into the village.
As Jan had said, Arenbach was not large. It was an ordinary northern village, no more and no less.
There was no inn like one might find in a small city. The only lodgings were private homes that called themselves inns.
There was likely little need for a proper inn, since a town surrounding Falken Bridge stood only half a day away. Unless someone arrived at an inconvenient time like Kyle's group, there was no reason to visit this village in the first place.
Naturally, there would not be enough demand to justify building a large inn.
“See you tomorrow. Don't rest too comfortably.”
For that reason, Kyle had to part from the others temporarily.
The knights split into three groups of three. Kyle followed Jan toward the village chief's home with Hermann and Walter.
The hunter named Sven disappeared along the way.
As Jan instructed, Kyle, Hermann, and Walter tied their horses behind the house. They entered the chief's home only after taking every Inventory Pouch from the saddles and keeping them close.
The chief, Jan's biological father, was a seasoned hunter in his forties. Oddly enough, there was no lady of the house.
Is there some reason he can't talk about?
“Come in.”
Having heard some of the details from Jan beforehand, the chief welcomed the three men calmly.
Kyle, Hermann, and Walter accepted the invitation and stepped into the living room.
“I heard you saved Jan and Sven. You have my sincere gratitude.”
The chief offered a brief thanks, then looked at Jan as if reproaching him for attempting to hunt a Troll without permission.
Kyle, standing a step behind, asked carefully.
“Did you injure your leg?”
“Ah... yes. There was an accident a few years ago.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
“It's fine. I can manage daily life now. My son has taken over the hunting work as well. It would have been very difficult if not for you. Thank you again.”
The chief bowed once more.
He went into the kitchen and returned carrying a simple dinner.
“You must be cold. Please, have this at least.”
Pale stew and dried-out bread.
It could not be called a generous meal, even out of politeness. Yet Kyle, Hermann, and Walter did not mind.
Jan was the one who looked restless.
Unable to watch any longer, Kyle took out several thick pieces of jerky and dried fruit from the Inventory Pouch Adrian had given him.
The father and son's eyes widened at the high-quality Dried Rations. Even among emergency provisions, quality varied greatly by price.
Everything Kyle had brought out was food that an ordinary mercenary could scarcely afford to get their hands on.
“Let's eat together.”
“N-no. This is enough for us...”
“We're not poor enough to be unable to offer you a single dinner. We'll pay properly for the lodging as well, so I hope you won't refuse.”
Father and son exchanged complicated looks.
In the end, the five men sitting in the chief's living room ate their meal in silence.
“Did you come from the Empire?”
The chief was the first to break the silence.
Kyle answered as though it were nothing important.
“I did.”
“I heard you aren't knights...”
“That's right. We're the Rusty Blade Mercenary Company. I'm the commander.”
“What brings you to the north?”
“We came looking for work. We heard there have been a lot of incidents around here.”
Mercenaries traveled across the continent searching for work.
Some stayed in one area and took commissions, but there were also many mercenary companies that wandered in search of major incidents. Especially in times like these, there was no shortage of places that needed armed strength.
“I see.”
The chief accepted Kyle's words without much suspicion.
For a moment, a strange light passed through his eyes as he looked at the fine jerky in his hand and the Inventory Pouch Kyle kept close.
“I've brought guests into my home, yet the hospitality has been lacking. I'll make some tea.”
Once the meal was mostly finished, the chief rose from his seat and went back into the kitchen.
Not long after, he returned carrying a wooden tray with five rough ceramic cups on it.
“It's pine needle tea. Please, drink.”
White steam rose from the five cups.
It was the most common tea in the north, brewed from pine needles. It was not as expensive as the Mist tea Kyle had once enjoyed, but it was enough to warm them up.
“Thank you.”
Kyle did not refuse the chief's hospitality.
When he wrapped his hands around the cup, he felt a modest warmth. For tea that had been prepared in advance, it was not bad.
Kyle turned to look at Hermann and Walter.
For the briefest instant, the three knights exchanged glances.
After that silent exchange, Kyle looked down at the cup in his hand again.
“Sorry, but could you tell me a little about the current situation in the north? I'll compensate you. It's been a long time since we were last in this region.”
Kyle took a sip of the tea, white steam rising from it.
“The situation in the north?”
“You don't have to explain anything too complicated. Even rumors circulating around this area would be enough.”
“I suppose you'd be curious if you came from elsewhere. To be honest, things aren't very good. It may be good news for mercenaries looking for work, but...”
The chief sighed deeply.
“Is Baron Falken committing some kind of tyranny?”
“That is not even close to the biggest problem. The real problem is that a civil war could break out at any time.”
“A civil war?”
“Do you know which noble took control of the north after Hailen fell and the royal family disappeared?”
“Ehrenfeld.”
“You know quite a bit. Rumors are widespread that Duke Ehrenfeld, who now occupies the capital Baldheim, is acting as the Emperor's lackey. They say he sends an enormous amount of tribute to the Empire every year.
“There are supposedly many lords who were loyal to the royal family, but they have all remained silent. They're afraid of Duke Ehrenfeld, who has the Emperor backing him. I have heard that the lords who had stood by have recently begun making troubling moves, but...”
“Have you heard any rumors about the surviving Ash Knights?”
The moment Kyle asked, undisguised hatred appeared in the chief's eyes, then vanished.
“...No.”
“Really?”
“Not as far as I know. The only thing I've heard is insults calling them useless fools with nothing but empty fame. At least, that is what House Ehrenfeld claims.”
“Life must be difficult.”
“When hasn't it been? People like us can do nothing but keep our heads down. It's been especially hard lately. I've heard there are villages where entire communities have starved to death.”
“Is that why you're doing this?”
Kyle suddenly asked as he stared at the chief.
The chief gaped and let out a dumbfounded sound.
“Pardon...?”
“Did you put paralysis poison in the tea so you could rob travelers passing through?”
Panic flickered wildly in the chief's eyes.
His trembling gaze passed over Kyle, Hermann, and Walter.
The three men had brought their cups to their lips several times, but the contents had not decreased at all.
Crash!
The sound of a cup shattering rang sharply through the silent living room.
Footnotes:
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