Chapter 169: Prep For War; Demme (P3)

The answer was obvious. Piol and his comrades wouldn't tell me anymore than they've already mistakenly spilled, but from that little alone, I can glean that something fishy is going on in Demme.

The three don't seem as downtrodden at being captured as they do at being told they have to go back. If that's not an ominous sign of what I'm headed towards I don't know what is.

Since the village is situated a mere hour away now, I figured we travel lightly and take our time, although, this is something both Piol and Juri fervently disagreed with.

"If you dawdle out here any longer you'll certainly be meeting the monsters face to face." Piol argues, straining against the binds we've placed on him and his comrade; shackles previously intended for Red and Quen.

Speaking of which, "Aside from us, there should have been two travellers that came by here, a man and a woman, have you seen them?"

Piol is bewildered, "Are you listening to me at all!"

"Milord, the man is right, the night brings with it creatures from the forest and while we may be prepared…"

"If you're prepared for battle then what's the problem, Juri?"

Anselm chooses now to speak, "Just because one is prepared for battle doesn't mean they must battle, Asher, a Warrior is not a Mage." He speaks sternly and unconsciously from his years forgotten, something that's long become natural for him.

"Bravery does not equate foolishness."

"That's alright, but I really want to have a look at these monsters, besides, we're going to fight them anyway." I shrug.

Anselm shakes his head, disappointed, "Do you truly have ears?"

I laugh but ultimately ignore his jibe, the three are right of course, but I'm pretty confident in our ability to handle a few nightly monsters.

"Piol, what kind of monsters crawl out when the sun comes down?" Speaking the words, the sun begins to dim over the horizon, spilling a fresh, beautiful orange glow over the grasslands leading into the forest. 

It's a beautiful scene, one of many I've been privileged to enjoy since coming to this world.

Piol simply sighs, giving up on convincing me to up the pace, "Various kinds, I've never stayed out here long enough to actually see the monsters bu-"

"It's been a year since your village has been plagued by monsters and you haven't seen any?" That's pretty shocking, "Must be one hell of a benefactor then."

The young man narrows his eyes at me, annoyance clear in them. He looks back at his trailing comrades and nods, "All three of us enrolled for the scouts just a month ago, but we haven't much gotten experience, we usually tag behind the more experienced scouts and they somehow know when to pull back and when to go further, we've not seen any monsters aside from their corpses."

Malnourished or not, it sounds like Demme's military system has a several disciplined and experience veterans.

The thought of an entire village of Monster Hunters freaks me out, just how strong would the top tiers be?

"And what monster corpse have you seen?" I press on, I need to know just what counts as a monster in this world.

"The most prevalent and annoying are the spiders."

"Spiders?"

He nods, "Giant, the size of Horses sometimes, but generally they attack in hordes the size of a dog."

"Sounds like Demme has it bad."

He looks away, "We're used to it, and the Spiders aren't the bad ones, they're easy to kill with a little fire here and there."

"So, what gives Demme the most headache?"

He falls silent a for a bit, biting his lower lip. He doesn't answer, but his comrade does, one whom I haven't a name for.

"The Werebears."

"Hahahah!" Anselm is the one to burst out laughing, an odd sound for such a tense conversation.

But I understand why he laughs, and the grimace on my face says more than I can to the thought of meeting yet another Bear as the big bad boss at the end of the level.

"Isn't that just wonderful, Asher?" Anselm, like a persistent fly singing in my ear drifts toward me, "Let's not get almost killed this time aye?"

"I'm far more levelled than I was then, and you know this. It's just another bear."

Piol, apparently doesn't think so. "It's not just a bear, it's a Werebear, there's a difference, do you not know the simplest of things?"

"Watch the manner you speak to Milord." Juri growls, "A Werebear it maybe but you are speaking to a Mage."

Piol shakes his head but falls silent.

Deciding not to bother him I look to his comrade the one who spoke before and ask, "Enlighten me, what's the difference, is it that this bear can stand on two feet rather than four?"

He nods.

"But any normal bear can also do that, in fact, I believe I've experienced it first-hand."

Anselm barely stifles a laugh.

"The Werebear walks like a man, always, not just in brief or stationary ways, but it hulks down on the gates and slaps away any man that stands in it's way. Its skin is thick, so thick a normal arrow has no hope of piercing it and so tough that even in death, it's hide needs to be boiled for days before it can be cut."

He sighs, "And they do not appear alone, unlike any normal bear, Werebears work together, they are not lone hunters, they are intelligent and over these many years they have learned to look out for our most effective attacks. Demme suffers losses anytime a Werebear pack attacks."

A hide so tough it needs days in boiling water to soften? Surely Death Grip can cut through that right?

No matter, Werebear, Giant horse sized spiders, and some strange benefactor, it matters not. 

Demme will be the first village to topple to my rule, and with their large pool of experienced fighters, I'm sure to have a good chance at furthering the fall of the other villages and eventually, taking on Serue and whatever nonsense he's surely cooking up wherever he is.