Chapter B4C45 - Unfortunate Souls

Chapter B4C45 - Unfortunate Souls

“I had no idea it was going to be so cold up here,” Timothy shivered.

Rurin eyed her fellow rebel leader with disbelief.

“You didn’t think it was going to be cold? In the Barrier Mountain range? These things scrape the fucking sky and you can see them from Woodsedge on a clear day. Are you out of your mind?”

The Mage glowered at her, which didn’t appear all that fearsome since he tugged his cloak tighter about his shoulders at the same time.

“I said I had no idea it would be this cold, not that it would be cold,” he corrected her.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Georg assured them from nearby, “it’s going to get a heck of a lot colder than this.”

The young man was striding along, covering the rocky and uneven terrain with ease while wearing a short sleeve shirt and a pair of rough trousers. This was essentially what he always wore, come rain or shine.

“How much colder?” Timothy asked, eyeing Georg carefully.

“Much. Up on Cragwhistle, the locals recommend you never piss at night if you can help it.”

“Why?”

“It freezes.”

“After you’re done... right?”

Georg just stared at him.

“I cannot believe a gold ranked Slayer is whining about the cold,” Rurin said, shaking her head. “Compared to an unawakened person, you’re practically immune to the cold! I don’t even feel it.”

“I’m not a brute with a constitution measured in the hundreds,” Timothy pointed out, “and for the last time, it isn’t that I’m incapable of enduring the cold, I simply don’t like it. It can’t be so surprising that someone prefers to be warm.”

He looked around and then pointed at Munhilde, who also wore a thick cloak, along with a shawl.

“See, I’m not the only one, the Priestess clearly prefers warmth over this,” he waved a hand irritably through the air, “chilly nonsense.”

Munhilde glared at him, unhappy at being singled out.

“The cold is bad for my joints,” she snapped.

“You sound like my mother,” Rurin chuckled, “but she’s like... eighty.”

Walking beside her fellow Priestess, Elsbeth blanched and quickly looked away, not wanting to be drawn in. Munhilde was... prickly... when it came to her age.

“For some of us, eighty years is still considered quite young,” Munhilde said flatly, pulling her shawl a little tighter about herself.

Rurin absorbed this in silence, then nodded.

“Fair enough. I will say no more.”

Elsbeth breathed a sigh of relief and looked back over her shoulder. They were only in the foothills of the Barrier Mountains, but already they were able to look out over the flatter land laid out before them like a tapestry of farms and woodland. For the Slayers, it wasn’t so difficult to cover the rough terrain, they walked up and down the hills all day long without trouble, but it was a bit more difficult for her and the other Priests and Priestesses to keep up.

Which was probably why they hadn’t been asked to carry any of the supplies.

“Are they really going to be able to defend against the rift with the things we left them?” she asked, not for the first time.

“What things?” Rurin laughed. “We cleaned that place out!”

It was Timothy, as usual, who answered her.

“We aren’t convinced they’re going to police the rift at all. The Duke doesn’t care about protecting the people, and the Magisters certainly don’t. Rather than dedicate resources to it, they may simply ignore Woodsedge and hope they can deal with us before another break occurs. Even left completely unattended, it will take months for the rift to build up to that point.”

She could only shake her head. Deep down, Elsbeth didn’t want to believe they would be so callous. Sure, there wouldn’t be a break any time soon, but without Slayers killing the kin who emerged, there was only one place for the monsters to go: further into the province.

Many families had only just begun to resettle the homes they’d abandoned because of the break, or only just finished burying their dead. The people who lived in the far west couldn’t afford to absorb another tragedy.

By her side, Munhilde could read her thoughts.

“If they protect the people or not is up to them to decide,” she stated, “it isn’t our responsibility to govern properly. This rebellion wouldn’t even be happening if they could be trusted to work in the best interests of the citizens. Even The Three haven’t turned away so thoroughly.”

That statement brought a frown to Elsbeth’s face. Before she could say anything, Munhilde cut her off.

“Rurin, you gods-cursed bitch. I should have known!”

Even now, the Slayer didn’t break stride, walking past the mystery person with nothing more than a roll of her eyes.

“I recognise that voice,” she called over her shoulder, “I wish I didn’t, but I do. Keep up if you want to talk, otherwise go jump off a cliff.”

Somewhat deflated, the mystery figure slumped for a moment, then straightened and sprinted to get ahead of them again, posing dramatically atop a rock.

“You might know who I am, but were you aware of this?!”

With a dramatic flourish, the figure threw off their robe, revealing a completely black skeleton wearing simple yet battered armour formed of bones. Spreading bony legs wide, the stranger struck a pose that seemed to emphasise the... modifications they had made to the armour covering the pelvis.

Again, Rurin marched past with barely a blink.

“Dove,” she said, “did you really attach a snake skeleton to act as a pretend dick?”

“I did!” he declared, full of pride. “My python has never been healthier! In a certain sense.”

Many of those gathered had never met this person before, but to Elsbeth’s surprise, quite a few of the Slayers did. There were calls from behind her, some of greeting, some curses and insults. Dove gave all of them a rude gesture then waggled his snake bones at them suggestively.

“For some reason, I’m not surprised being dead has only made you worse,” Rurin noted with a wry grin. “Tyron told me a little of your story.”

“He left out the best bits, I don’t doubt,” the skeleton declared, rushing to catch up to Rurin so he could walk alongside her. “Elsbeth, how are you?”

“I’m well,” she replied.

“Still looking ravishing. Gods I wish I’d had blonde hair like that. Yours looks like golden silk while mine looked like mouse piss.”

“You never washed it,” Timothy noted, sounding weary.

“Tim, you fucking pansy. I’m shocked to see you’re still alive! How’s things?”

“Better a few moments ago.”

“Well, that’s life. Or unlife.”

“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” Rurin said. “Tyron said you parted ways in Cragwhistle. Have you just been hanging around there this whole time? Doing what? Levelling your new Class?”

“He even told you about that, did he?” Dove mused, rubbing at his chin. “I was there for a while, but then I got bored and desired a greater challenge! I’ve been up there,” he gestured to their right.

They all turned, but there was nothing up there except the forbidding mountains.

“Up where?” Timothy asked.

“Up there! In the fucking mountains! Where did you think I was pointing?” Dove demanded waving his skeletal arms in the air.

“Why would you go there?” Rurin asked. “As far as I know, there’s nothing, hardly even any kin. Did you want some time to yourself?”

“Of course not,” Dove retorted, somehow managing to look offended. “I would never deprive others of my presence without good reason. No, I was interested in finding something that nobody else had ever found.”

“Your dignity?” Tim asked.

“A way through to Granin,” Dove declared.

He emphasised the statement by grabbing the dangling snake skeleton and throwing it around his neck like a scarf, even though it was still attached to his pelvis.

“Did you actually find one?” Munhilde asked, sounding interested.

“Don’t you want to hear about my tales of adventure? My daring acts of bravery and skill? The incredible highs. The terrifying lows? It’s incredibly good shit!”

“Not really,” Rurin shrugged, “but I’d love to know if you managed to get through.”

“There’s no way he did,” Timothy groaned. “Dove is just wasting our time.”

“Hey, did I shit in your breakfast or something, Tim? Don’t be so negative,” Dove huffed.

“Well?” Rurin asked, somehow remaining unruffled. “Did you find a way?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Dove threw his arms up once again. “Behold me! The first sort-of person to lay eyes on the fallen kingdom of Granin in five hundred years!”