“Because the monster isn’t dead.”
These ominous words hung in the silence. Three pairs of eyes widened, staring right at Sunny.
“Why do you say that?”
After thinking about it, Sunny came to the conclusion that the tyrant was, indeed, still alive. His reasoning was pretty straightforward: he did not hear the Spell congratulating him on slaying the creature after it fell off the cliff. Which meant that it was not slain.
But he couldn’t explain that to his companions.
He pointed up.
“The monster jumped from an incredible height to land on this platform. Yet it wasn’t harmed at all. Why would it be killed by falling off the platform?”
Neither Hero nor the slaves could find a flaw in his argument.
Sunny continued.
“Which means that it’s still alive, somewhere down the mountain. So by going back, we will be delivering ourselves into its maw.”
Shifty cursed loudly and crawled closer to the bonfire, staring into the darkness with terror in his eyes. Scholar rubbed his temples, mumbling:
“Of course. Why didn’t I realize myself?”
Hero was the most stoic of the three. After thinking it over, he nodded.
“Then we go up and over the mountain pass. But that’s not all…”
He glanced in the direction where the tyrant had fallen.
“If the monster is still alive, there is a high possibility that it will return here, and then pursue us. Which means that time is of the essence. We will need to move as soon as the sun rises.”
He gestured to the torn bodies littering the platform.
“We can’t allow ourselves to rest the whole night anymore. We need to gather supplies now. If there was a chance, I would have liked to give these people at least a humble burial after gathering all that we can from then, but alas, fate has decided otherwise.”
Hero rose to his feet and brandished a sharp knife. Shifty tensed up and watched the blade carefully, but then relaxed, seeing that the young soldier showed no sign of aggression.
to find. Let us split up and
himself with the
will carve the oxen carcasses to get us some
looked around the stone platform — most of it
“I’ll look for firewood.”
right, with a strange gleam
go find us something warm
one left. Hero gave
stored on the wagon. But each of my fallen brothers was carrying a flagon. Gather as
***
in the shadows, Sunny was looking for dead soldiers with half a dozen flagons already weighing him down. Shivering
— the one who had whipped him for trying to accept Hero’s flask — was badly injured and dying, but, miraculously,
time was
looked him over, searching for
‘What irony,’ he thought.
Sunny looked down and noticed a shattered sword lying on the ground not far from them. Curious, he
you guys like Vikings, longing to die with a weapon
soldier didn’t answer, watching the young slave with
Sunny sighed.
do. After all,
it away. The soldier
expected to feel guilt or fear, but actually, there was nothing at all. It seemed that, for better or worse,
quietly near the old man, keeping
while, the Spell’s voice came whispering into
a dormant
Sunny flinched.
as far as the Spell is concerned.
put it away. But,
received
opening
on, give me
thought, a Memory was incredibly useful. What’s more, unlike corporeal
weapon! Give
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