Chapter 38:

Chapter 38:

Amidst the sound of the crackling fire, buzzing insects, and rustling grass swaying in the wind, the clinking sound of metal approached.

The faint sound of the tiny iron pieces rubbing together was so subtle that only Ruon, who naturally sharpened his senses when camping, could hear it.

He closed his eyes and focused, allowing [Fairy’s Hearing] to transmit the intruders’ voices like a whisper into his ears.

“Wait until the moon is a bit more toward the west.”

“I’ll say it again, don’t give the dwarf a chance to transform.”

“The dwarf is the top priority, followed by the big guy. The dinky-looking one can be dealt with last.”

Hearing only one person’s voice at regular intervals suggested that the leader was giving orders to his subordinates in advance.

At that moment, Igor lowered his voice.

“Iron Fist?”

Ruon nodded.

“Judging by how they don’t want to give Stravo a chance to transform, it seems likely.”

Although he didn’t hear anything himself, Igor fully trusted Ruon’s abilities and nodded.

“...So the Lord didn’t trust us after all?”

“Seems like this was his intention from the beginning.”

Stravo, whose nostrils were twitching, suddenly spoke up.

“Well, in a way, it’s for the best!”

Green veins began to emerge on his face, resembling tendrils spreading across his skin.

Simultaneously, his skeletal structure contorted and rearranged itself. His nose elongated like that of a beast, and rough fur sprouted all over his body. Stravo’s appearance transformed into that of a beastly creature the likes of he’d never seen before.

“Oh my goodness...”

Igor muttered in surprise, and the transformed Stravo exhaled a burst of hot steam from his nose.

“Igor, sorry to startle you.”

Seeing Stravo teasingly remark with a voice mixed with the growls typical of a wild animal, it was easy to see why he had been mistaken for a demon.

At that moment, Ruon turned to Igor and said, “You don’t have to follow.”

“What?”

“Whatever’s over there isn’t a demon.”

“But still...”

“Just wait.”

Interrupting Igor, Ruon headed straight for the bushes. Stravo, now a four-legged beast, followed closely behind.

***

Iron Fist.

They were a group formed by wandering mercenaries, often referred to as the wolves of Harlen.

You might think that since they were a mercenary association, they would be organized and take on jobs. However, in reality, they didn’t engage in any significant external activities.

That’s because Iron Fist was an organization secretly created by Harlen’s Lord, Gunton.

Gunton minimized direct ties with Iron Fist by not providing them direct payment.

Rather, he turned a blind eye to their acts of pillage and subtly supported their actions, and with such a Lord behind them, the Iron Fist had no reservations about occupying Harlen’s back alleys and dark corners.

How this strange partnership worked was simple.

Whenever Gunton made a “personal request”, Iron Fist faithfully carried it out, no matter what it was.

That was all there was to it.

On a late night with the moon high in the sky, over ten armed individuals gathered on a quiet forest path. It was all because of such a “request” from Gunton – to kill the priest, the dwarf who disrespected him, and the large warrior.

“Damn it, because of that dwarf brat, I can’t even sleep properly.”

“That little brat killed our captain.”

“That idiot, always doing whatever his uncle wanted. The captain had it coming.”

“We also follow the Lord’s orders, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s true.”

As the mercenaries grumbled among themselves, the man at the forefront turned his head and pressed his index finger to his lips.

“Damn it, I wasn’t hit anywhere, and I still feel like I’m going to break... Living as a dwarf druid is a sad affair.”

Looking at Stravo, who was fussing and folding the hem of his pants, Ruon spoke.

“Let’s leave. Igor is probably waiting.”

***

Although there wasn’t a paved path, the road that Ruon, Igor, and Stravo walked on was a natural path that people frequently used.

Spotting a small mill with a windmill in the distance, Igor extended his hand with a bright smile.

“It’s a village.”

Passing by the gently flowing stream, the group entered the village and marveled quietly at the tranquil scenery as they headed to the inn.

The sun was just beginning to set, and the inn was bustling with farmers and travelers who had finished their day’s work.

The locals briefly fixed their gazes on the group’s unusual appearance but quickly turned away.

Not because they weren’t interested, but because they didn’t want to get into any unnecessary trouble, especially with Ruon, who was so large that his head almost touched the doorframe.

Approaching the group seated in the corner, their backs against the walls, a waitress with a formal smile asked, “What can I get you?”

“What’s tasty here?”

“We don’t have anything particularly noteworthy to boast about.”

“Oh?”

Stravo scratched his head, seemingly at a loss for words.

Ruon then asked, “Do you have mutton?”

“Yes, we have some.”

“Then we’ll have lamb stew and bread.”

After the waitress nodded and hurried toward the kitchen, Igor spoke up.

“How long will it take to get to the capital?”

Ruon shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, with a dwarf who can’t ride, it’ll be challenging to get there quickly.”

Stravo visibly flinched at the joking remark and stammered.

“Ah, well, with my short legs, I can’t possibly ride a horse properly!”

He cleared his throat and continued.

“You see, the true romance of adventure is when your feet become your horse.”

Igor raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but your feet will be sore in no time. What’s the use of romance then?”

“Don’t ruin the mood! It’s when you overcome that, then truly...”

Just as Stravo was about to elaborate, the quickly prepared stew and bread were brought to the table.

The lamb stew was nothing more than cooked lamb added to stew that had been simmering in the cauldron all day, so there was no reason for it to take long.

Uncomfortable with the conversation’s direction, Stravo quickly scooped the stew into his mouth, devouring it eagerly.

“Wait! I haven’t said my prayers yet!”

Igor, stuttering, quickly clasped his hands together and murmured.

“Merciful mother, please grant us our daily sustenance...”

‘They’re going to drive me crazy.’

Watching the scene, Ruon let out a soft sigh and quietly gripped the hilt of the Holy Sword.

In the past few days of traveling along the road to the capital, the Holy Sword hadn’t indicated any nearby hostile presence.

In other words, it had been a relatively peaceful journey, free from entanglements with those who wielded wicked power or minions of demons.

‘Perhaps it’ll remain peaceful until we reach the capital.’

As Ruon thought that, he dipped a tough piece of bread into the stew, and just as he did so, the Holy Sword began emitting a low, foreboding hum.

At the same time, the inn door swung open.

“Kyaaaah!”

At the piercing scream of the waiter, who was about to greet the guest with a polite smile, Ruon immediately turned his head.

There stood a man, covered from head to toe in blood.