Chapter 8: Mercenaries and the Dark Knight (3)

Chapter 8: Mercenaries and the Dark Knight (3)

After having dinner, the group decided on the order for night watch and then fell asleep.

Dale also closed his eyes in a suitable spot.

In fact, Dale neither needed to eat nor sleep. His half-undead body did not require such activities.

Yet Dale forced himself to eat and sleep.

To not forget that he was human.

Dale forcibly closed his eyes.

But no matter how much he wished, sleep did not come to him. Dale just lay with his eyes closed while recalling memories from his past over and over again.

Sometimes these memories would suddenly become incredibly clear. They were vivid and real as if they were unfolding right in front of his eyes.

Dale called this dreaming.

A frequent visitor in these dreams was his grandfather who raised him.

Today was no different.

His grandfather, back when Dale was human, said to him:

In everyones heart, there are two wolves. A good wolf and a bad wolf. These two wolves are always in fierce battle. Which wolf do you think will win?

The one you feed

I dont think you know, so let me tell you the answer. Its the one you feed. Do you understand?

His grandfather interrupted Dales words and hastily explained.

Dale in the dream smiled bitterly. It seemed his grandfather had found some nice phrase in a newspaper or somewhere and wanted to share it with Dale.

Although it was a very famous story, Dale still listened attentively to his grandfather.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only

Even a common tale became special when spoken by him.

Always try to feed the good, kind wolf. Understand?

His grandfather said this while stroking the young Dales head.

Dale nodded and thought to himself.

I think he said something more here?

At that moment, Dale awoke from the dream. More precisely, his thoughts were interrupted.

His keen hearing had picked up an unfamiliar sound.

The sound of turning pages.

It was not a sound one would expect to hear in such a place.

Dale opened his eyes and turned his head.

A short man was sitting in front of the campfire as he read a book.

Seeing his face, Dale was a bit surprised.

A gnome?

Gnomes. A small race that looks similar in appearance to humans but only about half their height.

As befits their origin from the desert, their ears hang down and they had thick eyelashes.

Overall, they looked cute and young, but Dale had heard their strength was comparable to humans.

Was there ever a gnome among our group? Ah, the porter.

The mercenary who walked around wearing a helmet was actually a gnome.

Feeling intrigued, Dale approached the campfire.

The gnome, who had been concentrating heavily on a book jumped in surprise as a shadow loomed over him.

Eeek!

The gnome immediately put his head on the ground and apologized.

Im-Im so sorry for being too noisy! My apologies!

Dont worry about it. I cant sleep anyway.

Eh? Then why were you lying down?

I just felt like it.

Confused by the response, the gnome tilted his head in puzzlement.

Dale said while looking at the thick book the gnome was holding.

Can you read?

Eh? Oh, yes. I had the chance to learn how to read and write.

Impressive.

Dale sincerely praised the gnome.

In this world, there were far more people who couldnt read than those who could.

Dale himself had been among the illiterate.

It was a real struggle just to learn the language.

He remembered the challenges he faced when he first arrived in this world.

When he first encountered people without knowing the language, it led to many awkward situations.

He was mistaken for a monster and was attacked several times.

Remembering those times, he couldnt help but shiver.

Knowing how to read is a great thing.

Uh

The gnomes eyes widened, and suddenly, large tear drops formed in his eyes.

Dale asked in confusion.

Did I say something wrong?

No, no. Im sorry. Its just that this is the first time someone has praised me like this. Everyone always scolds gnomes, saying whats the use of us knowing how to read?

Isnt it easier to find work if you can read?

Well, people dont really hire gnomes much.

The gnome muttered bitterly.

Dale nodded his head in understanding.

Even in the game, each race was viewed differently.

He recalled that gnomes were not a particularly popular race.

Dale spoke up.

My name is Dale.

Ah. Im Leon, son of Ayla. As you know, Im a wooden badge mercenary, and I dont yet have a grade or class.

Understood. Leon, Ill take the night watch, so you continue reading your book.

Oh. Is that really okay with you? I dont want to be a burden

Dont worry about it. I dont sleep anyway.

Thank you.

Leon bowed his head gratefully and eagerly returned to his book.

From that appearance, Dale saw a resemblance to his younger sibling from his previous life.

Dale shouted out.

Its paralysis! The soup was poisoned! Focus on defense!

Dale was suddenly charged by one of the assailants.

The assailant raised a warhammer, aiming to bring it down directly on Dales head.

It seemed as if Dale too was paralyzed.

But that was not the case. Dale swiftly stepped aside and, in a fluid motion, drew his hand axe before striking down at the assailants neck.

With a sickening sound, the well-sharpened blade of the axe sliced through flesh and bone altogether. Hot blood splattered on his face.

In that state, Dale turned his gaze towards another assailant.

Uh!

The sense of intimidation emitted by the dark knight covered in blood was extraordinary.

Could this be how the strong demons on the battlefield felt?

The assailants hesitated.

But Dale had no intention of waiting.

He kicked off the ground and charged at the assailants.

Caught off guard, one of the assailants hurriedly brandished his weapon. His sword traced a sharp trajectory through the air.

Dale tracked his movements keenly with his eyes.

And he decided. He would just take the hit.

Clang!

The blade struck the armor. It was a fairly strong blow, but utterly insufficient to pierce through his armor.

Huh?

Dale threw a punch at the assailant who wore a dumbfounded expression.

Crack!

With a dull sound, the assailants lower jaw was completely shattered.

Dale struck with his fist once more, completely crushing the assailants skull.

Blood splattered once again, soaking Dales armor.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been unpleasant to him, but the dark knights body reveled in the current slaughter.

Dale extended his arm and sunk his gauntlet into the assailants chest.

When he first fell into this world,

Dale had vowed not to absorb the life force of innocent people.

In other words, it was perfectly appropriate to take the life force of those who were not innocent.

The life force and residual soul force were drawn out from the assailants body and absorbed into Dale.

Dale felt a sense of fullness filling his cold heart.

Absorbing the life force of people felt completely different from taking that of monsters.

The dark knights body was more delighted by the life force of humans, and the soul force it contained was much denser.

Because the soul force was dense, sometimes interesting phenomena would occur.

For instance, showing the memories of that person.

The memories of the dead assailant flashed before Dales eyes.

As I suspected, he was one of Miles buddies.

Fragments of memories rapidly surfaced and then faded away.

The successful subjugation of an owlbear.

A feast held in the village to thank the mercenaries.

The village chiefs daughter which was too beautiful to be a mere country girl.

Miles losing his mind. Rape. Discovery. The villagers rage. Conflict. Massacre.

Miles blunder led to a fight with the villagers which then ended in their deaths. A truly messed-up situation.

It was an irreversible mistake, one that made it impossible to continue mercenary work.

The memory ended there, but imagining what followed wasnt difficult.

Miles team was planning one last big hit before giving up their mercenary life.

They lied to the guild, gathered other mercenaries and a priestess, and prepared paralyzing herbs.

Suddenly, Dale recalled something Miles had said.

We cant afford to damage such a goldmine.

Slaves were always in high demand during this era.

As long as one was physically fit, they could fetch a high price.

However, a variable emerged that disrupted Miles plan.

It was Dale.

So thats how it happened.

The whole story of the event was roughly understood.

In the end, it was all a farce orchestrated by Miles from start to finish.

Dale grasped his sword and scanned his surroundings.

Before he knew it, he was the only one left standing on both legs among his allies.

The mercenaries resisted valiantly but could not endure for long and fell to the sword.

The battle was significantly affected by the priestess being attacked right at the start and the impact of the paralyzing herbs.

Dale calmly assessed the situation.

There are four I should deal with. Three with iron badges and one with a bronze badge. The one with the bronze badge is a grade 3 warrior perhaps.

Dale raised his longsword and turned his head towards Miles.

Miles, whose skin was reddened from the hot soup being poured over him, glared in this direction.

Dale asked a question.

Just one thing.

What?

Why did you kill all the villagers? There surely were other ways to resolve this.

Miles contorted his face in frustration.

How on earth did you No, rather, what kind of shitty question is that?

I asked why you killed them.

Why does one need a reason to kill? They were weaker than me and it was beneficial, so I killed them.

Miles answered without hesitation. He didnt seem to have any sense of guilt.

Dale felt like he understood how Miles had lived and the kind of monster he had nurtured within himself.

Okay. I understand.

Dale gripped his longsword firmly.

It was time to feed the bad wolf inside him.