༺ 𓆩 Chapter 12 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠃
“You’ve definitely been touched by soul arts before. I’m almost certain the person we’re searching for is the one who used that magic on you.”
Hunbish stared at Davitte, stunned.
The way his eyes sparkled, the way that blissful smile spread across his face in such a mismatched, inappropriate moment, it was the look of a madman.
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Hunbish made up his mind.
He would run.
These lunatics, rambling nonsense and acting like unhinged mystics, weren’t safe. And while they were still keeping their distance, now was his only chance.
Keeping his curved blade trained on them, Hunbish slowly turned his horse around.
“There’s no one like you in this territory, no raving lunatics. You must be mistaken.”
Davitte tilted his head, the smile fading as confusion took hold.
To his eyes, the boy’s soul wasn’t flowing as it should. It was stagnant, like water pooled in a dry stream bed, unnatural and unmoving. It was unmistakably the mark of someone who had been tampered with by a soul-practitioner.
“And yet, he doesn’t seem to know it himself…”
Was it possible that the caster had done this without the boy’s knowledge and then simply left?
A scenario surfaced in Davitte’s mind.
“Have you ever nearly died… or suffered an injury severe enough to lose consciousness?”
“...............”
Hunbish froze mid-motion, just as he was about to flee.
It had taken roughly three days before the search party had found him at the base of the cliff.
They said a wolf had been curled protectively around his unconscious body when the adults discovered him.
The doctor had told him more than once: surviving in the freezing, blizzard-ridden wilds in such a weakened state was nothing short of a miracle.
“If that’s the case, it makes sense now. But… the process wasn’t properly completed.”
“Completed…?”
Hunbish didn’t lower his guard, but he waited — to hear just a little more.
“You’re in a state where your soul is forcibly bound to your body. That’s why you’ve survived injuries that should’ve been fatal. But if left like this, without proper resolution, it will lead to serious consequences.”
“Consequences?”
“Even if your wounds heal physically, the scars left on your soul will continue to affect your body.”
Without realizing it, Hunbish sucked in a sharp breath.
“There’s nothing wrong with your body. It’s your mind. I know it’s hard, but you’ll have to fight through it.”
It was what the doctor always said — every time he checked on Hunbish.
He had always dismissed those words as nagging. To hear them echoed now, from a complete stranger, an outsider, shook something loose in him.
“..............”
Hunbish couldn’t bring himself to ignore this man’s words.
Slowly, cautiously, he lowered his blade.
“How can the side effects be resolved?”
“I can untie the knot that binds your soul to your body,” Davitte said. “But in exchange, I ask that you tell me everything you know about the soul arts that were used.”
“As I’ve already told you — I don’t know anything about soul arts. And no one in my village practices anything like that.”
“Even just recounting what happened during the incident will suffice.”
From Hunbish’s reactions alone, Davitte was now certain — something traumatic had occurred.
By tracing that incident back to its roots, he might finally find the lead he’d been searching for.
“...................”
To Hunbish, this might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal his lame leg.
But it all felt a little too convenient.
Could it really be this easy? Just tell the story of what happened, and in return, have his leg healed, something not even a doctor could do?
It seemed like an unbelievably good deal, too good to trust.
Hunbish found it difficult to fully cast aside his suspicion toward the two strangers.
“Please, don’t be so wary. We really are only here to find someone.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Norman finally spoke up.
“And who exactly is this person you’re looking for?”
“Someone named Vincent,” Davitte replied. “The Argento family gave him a command long ago — and now we’ve come to rescind it. But tracking him down has proven… difficult.”
Hunbish stared into Norman’s eyes for a long moment.
And in those eyes, he found no sign of deceit.
Whether the story itself was true or not was another matter, but their urgency was genuine.
And, if what they said was correct, perhaps he could even meet the person who had saved his life.
After a long moment of thought, Hunbish finally sheathed his curved blade.
“My name is Hunbish of Uhule. I don’t know if it’ll be of any help, but… if you want to know about the accident, I’ll tell you what I can.”
𓇗
Once they had moved to a safer location, the three of them sat down and began discussing the events of that day.
“So, you fell from a cliff.”
“That’s right. The village elders say I survived because a blue-colored wolf sheltered me.”
Hunbish’s only real source of sympathy within the village came from the rumor about that blue wolf.
The people of Olus believed their ancestors had originated from such a creature.
“A blue wolf… they’re certainly rare. But they don’t possess the power to bring someone back from the brink of death. I’m sure that wolf was connected to Vincent.”
“The accident happened near Tavanbogd Mountains. It’s not far from here, but…”
According to the shepherds, the area surrounding the mountain was a frequent hotspot for clashes with the forest men.
The scouting units believed their main stronghold might be located somewhere nearby.
“It’s possible the forest men we saw earlier are based near Tavanbogd Mountains.”
Davitte’s eyes lit up at Hunbish’s words.
“If that’s the case, then our chances increase significantly. I’d wager their objective is the same as ours.”
“I thought their goal was to attack the territory.”
“No one can say for certain what their next move will be. But that isn’t their immediate aim.”
What Hunbish realized as the conversation continued was that Davitte had encountered forest men many times, far more than most, and had survived.
In fact, he seemed to understand them better than anyone in Olus.
“Vincent, under orders from the House of Argento, conducted extensive research here. The forest men likely came to this land in an attempt to steal the fruits of that lifetime of work.”
It was no wonder that despite the scouts turning over every stone around the territory, they had yet to engage the forest men in any major conflict.
And now, Hunbish understood why. It was reassuring — at least for now, it meant war wasn’t imminent.
Still, it raised a troubling question: when the forest men ambushed the nomadic group herding livestock, was it an unfortunate coincidence or a calculated strike?
“If they succeed in taking what they came for, no matter how they use it, it won’t benefit humanity in any way.”
“…Then I’ll guide you. I’d like to at least meet the person who saved my life and thank them in person.”
With the conversation concluded, Hunbish stood, and the three mounted their horses.
The sun was still fairly high in the sky, but if they wanted to proceed carefully, they would need to start moving soon.
And somewhere in his heart, Hunbish couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement, at the thought that he might see the blue wolf once more.
𓇗
At the foot of Tavanbogd Mountains, in a narrow canyon carved into the earth, the three came to a stop.
“This is the place.”
Hunbish glanced over the edge of the cliff without thinking.
And in an instant, the memories came flooding back; so vivid, so forceful that the world tilted on its axis.
“Ugh…”
“Are you alright?” Norman asked, concern etched across his face as he noted Hunbish’s pallor.
“I’m fine. Just… the memory hit me all at once.”
“No, you’re not fine,” Davitte said, stepping in gently. “Your soul is still bound. No matter how much time passes, the trauma of that day won’t fade until the knot is undone. We should find somewhere to rest, just for a while.”
Noticing that Hunbish was clearly overexerting himself, Davitte offered the suggestion.
“Then let’s descend and rest below.”
A biting wind swept up from the canyon floor, cooling the sweat that had gathered on Hunbish’s brow.
As they moved in a single file along the narrow path carved into the canyon’s side, Hunbish felt worse and worse.
His body burned with fever, his senses dulled.
It felt as though he were drifting in the sky, weightless and adrift.
And in his mouth; nothing but the coppery taste of blood.
“It couldn’t have been easy to carve a path into this canyon. Was it the local villagers who built it?” Davitte asked in awe, trailing behind.
“No. From what I’ve heard, there were once native tribes that lived here. This path was built by them.”
“Impressive people.”
“There’s even a tale that they worked with earth spirits to carve the way. Sounds like something out of a storybook, though.”
“Ho…”
Davitte listened with interest and cast a long, appreciative look across the vast canyon landscape.
Under the clear sky, the immense expanse of the canyon unfurled like a living tapestry.
Despite the many paths etched along the rock walls, they blended seamlessly with the natural grandeur of the terrain.
The rushing sound of the river that ran through the canyon seemed to wash away the fatigue of Davitte’s long journey.
When they reached the canyon floor, the three dismounted and tied off their horses nearby.
Hunbish alone sat down close to where they’d tethered the animals, taking a moment to rest.
He drank from the river that flowed between the canyon walls, and slowly, his mind began to clear.
As his senses returned, his gaze drifted toward the other two.
Davitte and Norman were scouring the area, quietly exchanging thoughts. Their expressions had turned grim.
After a long while, Davitte approached him.
“The situation isn’t good.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a battle here, not long ago. Of that much I’m sure. More importantly… the traces of soul arts are unmistakable. I’d bet it was Vincent.”
“................”
If that were true, then it meant Vincent had remained in this place, until recently.
Hunbish found himself regretting not having come here sooner.
“But… something monstrous intervened on the enemy’s side.”
“Monstrous?” Hunbish echoed.
“A lycanthrope,” Davitte said grimly. “A human who has taken the soul and blood of a wolf into themselves. If it came to a direct clash between the two, Vincent's survival isn’t guaranteed.”
Hunbish, for all his years of burying his nose in books, had never ventured beyond the borders of the Olus territory. Because of that, he had always struggled to grasp anything about the outside world.
But one thing he understood clearly now — whoever this Vincent was, he was in serious danger.
“We don’t have time to waste, then.”
“I want to search for more traces by following the river downstream. Will you be able to keep up?”
“Yes. I’m much better now. My head’s clear again.”
Just then, as Hunbish looked up at Davitte, he caught sight of a group of forestmen moving atop the canyon ridge; they were descending the canyon from the opposite side of the path the trio had used earlier.
“The forest men are coming down this way. We should move before they spot us.”
At his words, Davitte turned to look up toward the canyon’s edge.
But his eyes saw nothing.
Only after squinting and carefully scanning the slope for a good while did he finally catch faint flickers of movement — tiny, ant-like figures inching downward.
“…You saw that?”
Davitte had heard tales of Olus warriors being called "hawk-eyed," but he’d always assumed it was metaphorical. He never imagined it could be quite this literal.
By the time he turned to question Hunbish, both he and Norman had already mounted their horses.
“..........?”
Norman, following Davitte’s gaze, tried to spot what they were seeing, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
“Let’s go,” Hunbish urged.
“Ah—right, yes…”
Prompted by Hunbish’s firm tone, Davitte quickly climbed into the saddle.
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