Chapter 48

Chapter 48

“Hmph!”

The tip of Bachman’s spear shook. It was impossible to predict which direction it was going to extend in. It was a one-on-one battle trick that he had learned back in his gladiator days.

Woosh.

Bachman swung his spear. Donovan twisted his body to dodge the stab and dug in.

‘I’m going to split Bachman’s head.’

Donovan was fully intending to kill Bachman. He swung his sword down with murderous intent.

Clang!

Bachman parried the sword with the rear of his spear.

“Woah!” The mercenaries exclaimed in excitement.

‘Bachman is unexpectedly skilled. He used the momentum of his spear shaft to smoothly connect his attach and defense.’

Sven thought Bachman was going to be seriously wounded by the blow just now, but Bachman successfully defended himself.

‘That was a skill of high caliber.’

Bachman himself was surprised at how well he pulled off that move. He realized that he had grown as a warrior since the gladiator days. It had just been difficult to gauge his improvement because there hadn’t been many opportunities for a duel like this.

‘I have been getting quite a bit of experience, indeed.’

The spear felt like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully confident that the movement of the spear was under his total control.

Warriors occasionally jumped up in levels during fights. The crossroads of life and death was a moment that brought one’s concentration and ability to learn to their absolute peaks.

‘I can do this.’

Bachman felt uplifted and energized. His confidence that had hit rock bottom earlier was now up to the top of his head.

“Come at me, Donovan. I’ll skewer you from your asshole to your mouth and roast you over the fire for tonight’s dinner.”

His voice exuded his confidence.

“You’re going crazy over one decent block, Bachman.”

Donovan gripped the hilt of his sword with both his hands and raised it to mid-height.

‘His stability is solid. He indeed is an ex-military man.’

Sven spectated the duel with interest. The imperial soldiers were trained in the art of textbook combat. Stability and versatility were by far their most superior qualities.

Clank!

Donovan stepped forward. Bachman swung his spear as his defensive attempt, but Donovan parried every swing and closed their distance.

‘I’m finished if I let him get close.’

Bachman swung his sword with clenched teeth. The spear wasn’t moving quite the way he wanted it to due to the momentum carrying it out of his control. His fantasy of becoming one with his spear was shattered, and the spear suddenly felt foreign in his hands. The confidence that was inflated inside of him quickly faded.

‘Those who sweat more, bleed less. This is what Bachman gets for being lazy with his training—a loss.’

It was obvious to the mercenaries that Bachman was getting dominated.

‘Death is staring right at me.’

Bachman felt the chill of the approaching darkness. His legs shuddered, and the senses in his fingertips slowly faded away into numbness.

‘Let’s end our feud here, Bachman.’

Donovan lifted his sword high to prepare for a big final blow. It was too late for Bachman to pull in his outstretched spear to block the attack.

Crash!

A circular shield fell in between Donovan and Bachman. It was thrown by Sven.

“What are you doing, you old man!” Donovan whipped his head around to look at the culprit. Sven was pointing at the second floor.

“Our leader is up, Donovan.”

Urich was standing tall on the second floor. He leaned against the wall and looked down at the ground floor.

“Hey, assholes, I came back from the dead because you guys were fighting too much.”

* * *

Urich had shaken off the illness. How did he manage that? He could have gotten better by himself thanks to his superior fitness, or it could have been because of the fever reducer that the doctor had prescribed. It may have been just a minor ailment to begin with, or maybe it was the Porridge of Life that replenished Urich’s life force. Regardless of what it was, Urich was back up on his two feet. The darkness that shaded over his face was nowhere to be found.

“Phew.”

His breath was clear, and his eyes were bright. The days he spent ill were blurry like a dream. It was hard to tell whether it was a dream or reality.

Creak.

Urich opened the door and walked out of his room. Sven was the first to notice his movement and immediately interfered in the duel between Bachman and Donovan.

‘Hmm, it looks like Bachman and Donovan are fighting.’

Urich assessed the situation downstairs and caught himself up. He remembered some of the things that he had heard in his sleep. The mercenaries were busy picking a new leader.

“Did he beat that disease?”

“Urich’s up.”

Urich walked downstairs amid the murmuring mercenaries and sat on the table.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was out, but now that I’m back, whatever it was you guys were up to, is all null and void. Put your weapons away, both of you,” Urich said calmly. There was strength in his voice.

Pahell was still suspicious.

‘Urich probably would have woken up by himself without the porridge.’

It was just a regular, average meat porridge. It might have been a nice nourishment, but it held no value as a medicine.

While the mercenaries were getting busy in the red-light district, the ones who stayed back walked around the public square.

Chatter, chatter.

The crowd in the square grew larger and larger as if something was about to happen that was worth their attention. People came out to the square carrying baskets full of rotten vegetables or rocks.

“What’s going on?” The mercenaries who were leaning against their packs chattered among themselves.

Clang, clang.

A bell rang to announce noon. The sun was at its highest point at this moment.

“Booooo!”

“Die, you dirty cult!”

The people booed and whistled. The guards of the city dragged the prisoners to the center of the square.

“You beasts!”

“How can you eat human babies!”

“You lot are not even people!”

As the prisoners were dragged out into the square, some of them were hit by the rubbish that was thrown by the crowd.

“It’s the Serpentists.”

Pahell sat on the back of Kylios and looked out over the square. The prisoners were naked. Both men and women had snake tattoos on their bodies, with some large ones across their backs and some cleverly hidden in places like the soles of their feet or the nape of their necks.

“They’re getting beheaded!”

The crowd went wild as the executioner stood before the prisoners with a large execution sword in his hand.

“You fools! We are taking off the skin of the flesh and gaining eternal life! This world is nothing underneath its covers! We are headed to the next world, and we shall be waiting for you there!” one of the Serpentists shouted. The crowd, after hearing his claim, began throwing stones at him.

“Stop throwing your rocks; stop it!” The guards restrained the crowd. It would have been a problem if the prisoners died before they got executed.

“Pahell, what are they talking about? The next world?” Urich, who was staring at the sky lying on his back, jumped up and asked.

“I don’t really know the Serpentism doctrine very well, but they seem to believe that once they die in this world, they move on to the next world; that once they leave this body, they gain a new one in their new world. It’s all bogus, their souls won’t be saved wherever they go,” Pahell said as he expressed his hatred toward the Serpentism.

“Woahhhhh!”

The crowd cheered and shouted. One by one, the Serpentists stepped forward, and their heads soon dropped to the ground. Executions were a great spectacle.

All the male Serpentists had been executed, and it was time for the females. Their snake tattoos were more hidden than the males’.

“Hmm?”

Urich’s vision was superior. He saw a familiar face among the female Serpentists.

‘Zuniba.’

The head of Zuniba which was once full of hair was now cleanly shaven. Her snake tattoo was on her scalp so that it would only be visible on a fully-shaven head.

“Hmm.”

Urich covered his mouth and pondered for a moment and pieced the puzzle together.

‘Zuniba, a Serpentist healer who sacrifices babies, and the meat porridge that I coincidentally received from her.’

Urich scoffed and tilted his head. He was able to make out most of what had happened. However, whether he was right didn’t matter. Only Zuniba knew the truth.

‘Pahell.’

Urich looked at Pahell, who was sitting on Kylios. He had yet to notice that Zuniba was among the prisoners.

“Hey, Pahell, what good does watching people’s heads getting cut off bring? You’ll see plenty of that anyway as long as you stick with me. Anyway, I changed my mind. I’m going to go to the red-light district, you wanna come? Let’s go squeeze some tits.”

Urich pulled hard on Pahell, making him stumble and nearly fall off the horse, but Urich swiftly caught him and put him on his feet.

“W-what the hell are you thinking! You think falling off a horse is a joke? I could die if I fell on my head!” Pahell snapped at Urich. His startled heart was beating out of his chest.

Urich laughed and pressed on Pahell’s head. His rough fingers ruffled up the young prince’s hair.

Pahell, startled by Urich’s antics, couldn’t pay attention to the execution anymore. He couldn’t even see it without being on Kylios’ back, anyway.

The roar of the crowd had reached its peak, and it was Zuniba’s turn to be executed. Thanks to his height, Urich stood out among the crowd.

Urich glanced back after feeling a gaze on him. He met eyes with Zuniba.

‘That woman is looking at me.’

Zuniba was on her stomach, but she was looking at Urich with her head held up. Her expression wasn’t of a person who was facing death. Her eyes were calm, and it triggered a memory in Urich.

‘Gottval.’

For some reason, the Serpentist woman reminded Urich of the priest. His eyes widened.

“What are you looking at? Put your head back down, you filthy snake-worshipping bitch!”

The executioner stepped on Zuniba’s head, and her neck was in a good position for a beheading.

Slash.

Her head rolled on the ground. The crowd booed the lifeless head.

Zuniba was dead. Where was her soul headed?

Urich closed his eyes, then opened them again. Whether they were a Serpentist, a northerner, or a Solarist... Urich hoped that they would all end up in the afterlife that they each desired.