TUK 24

Chapter 24

Rian didn’t miss the movement of Taerin twisting and lunging straight into his arms.

The tip of her sword followed immediately, stabbing toward his neck.

Clang!!

He deflected the expected strike—but the moment he felt how light her blade was, something felt off.

Whoosh!!

Taerin’s foot came sweeping toward his chin.

If he hadn’t instinctively tilted his head back in that split second, he probably wouldn’t be able to chew meat for a while.

Of course, he didn’t have the luxury to think about that now—Taerin’s assault wasn’t over yet.

Whish!!

Her heel, which had just grazed his face, dropped again, this time aiming squarely for his chest.

Thud! Crack!!

He narrowly dodged, and her heel smashed into the ground, leaving a round crater in the earth.

“This could actually kill me if I mess up.”

Her usual playful attitude was gone. Her skill level seemed similar to Dominic’s, but in a way that was much trickier to deal with.

“Unpredictable. Erratic.”

She’d feint a thrust, then suddenly spin her body to accelerate her sword and aim for his flank.

Sometimes she’d kick up dirt to blind his vision before closing the gap, or fake a defensive move only to counter with her hands and feet.

If this had been the old Rian, he’d have been on the ground from the very first kick aimed at his jaw.

“But now—I can see it.”

Rian was no longer who he used to be.

He tracked every motion Taerin made, predicting the next move, avoiding attacks while countering in ways that left her momentarily off guard.

“That bastard… has he gotten stronger already?”

Dominic clenched his teeth as he watched Rian force Taerin back.

To anyone else, it looked like an evenly matched exchange, but Dominic—who had sparred countless times with Taerin—could tell.

“That forced smile… why are her eyes shaking like that?”

Taerin’s expression—one he’d never seen before—was starting to be tinged with the color of defeat.

That alone told Dominic that Rian’s skill had surpassed what it had been when they last fought.

“I hate to admit it, but… he might actually win.”

If this duel continued and Taerin really lost, that would mean Dominic could also lose to Rian.

The thought alone made his face tighten with unease.

“Don’t tell me… that bastard’s talent is to grow stronger the more powerful his opponent is?”

Dominic muttered under his breath, but no one answered.

Everyone’s attention was fixed entirely on the duel between Taerin and Rian.

Meanwhile, the sun broke through the thinning clouds.

Lea squinted up at it, roughly judging the time. Their mission came first—they couldn’t afford to waste more time on sparring.

“We’ll have to end it here.”

Just then, they saw Berkir running toward them from afar, a huge boar slung over his shoulder—a perfect excuse to stop the duel.

“Haha! I’ve caught tonight’s feast myself!”

Taerin couldn’t help but feel oddly relieved to hear his booming voice.

“Ahem! Well… not bad. If we had more time, I would’ve played with you a bit longer. A promise is a promise, and we’ve got a mission to do. Let’s continue next time?”
“Sure. If there’s a next time.”

They both sheathed their swords and walked toward Lea, Pine, and Dominic.

Taerin, expecting Dominic to tease her, glanced at him—but…

“Huh? Why’s he making the face I’m supposed to make?”

Dominic was clenching his fist, staring straight at Rian—clearly too focused to mock anyone.

Lea’s expression wasn’t much different.

“Can someone’s movements really improve that much in just a few days?”

He had once looked like someone who didn’t care if he lived or died. But now… it almost felt like he was struggling to stay alive.

“…I want to cross blades with him myself, but the final evaluation is my turn anyway. Until then, I’ll watch and see if he’s truly fit to be Lord Sion’s disciple.”

Lea gave Rian her sharp, characteristic stare.

“We’ll eat the boar Bekir caught, then move out immediately. Please lead us through the route we need to check.”

✦✦✦

“Montclay… I hope that fool hasn’t done something rash.”

The old, white-bearded Marquis Graham Philosso’s face creased deeper with worry.

If they followed the River Trevor downstream for half a day more, they’d reach the encampment led by Count Montclay Brown.

That location was supposed to become Trevor Bridge.

But Graham couldn’t shake off his anxiety—he didn’t trust Montclay, who had requested help from Sion’s disciples.

“Since Lord Sion’s disciples went down there, there’s been no news.”

No news was supposed to be good news.

They hadn’t met any messengers on their way to Trevor Bridge, which meant the front line was probably still intact—or so he told himself for his own peace of mind.

If they could secure Trevor Bridge, even if the Imperial Army’s Commander-in-Chief, Marquis Bueno Argen, arrived after crossing the frozen mountain range, they’d still be able to hold him off.

Just as he steadied himself with that thought, a lone rider appeared in the distance.

“Here it comes.”

The man wore allied armor—a messenger. He wasn’t a fleeing deserter, which brought some relief, though not much.

At this time, Montclay couldn’t possibly know that Argen had already changed his attack route toward Trevor Bridge.

Graham silently prayed the messenger would bring good news.

“Lieutenant Bonmud Russell, adjutant to Battalion Commander Montclay Brown, reporting to Commander-in-Chief Graham Philosso!”

Bonmud galloped up and dismounted hastily, bowing low before Graham.

Graham wanted to ask why Montclay had sent only a third of his forces southward—but he held his tongue.

Rustle—

“This is the progress report from Trevor Bridge, sir.”

He handed over the report he’d written himself, quietly sighing in relief.

“Good thing I burned Montclay’s fake victory report beforehand.”

Graham began to read, murmuring the name under his breath.

“Rian Cade…”

The report was practically a tale of Rian Cade’s heroism.

It detailed how he had survived alone when Montclay’s reckless advance wiped out the vanguard, infiltrated the enemy’s rear to slay an Imperial mage, and single-handedly stopped an ambush by the Empire’s elite troops.

It was a victory report steeped in legend.

But Graham couldn’t simply rejoice.

At the end of the document was a troubling note: Montclay had moved his entire army onto the Dandelion Plains under the pretext of wiping out the Empire’s remnants.

“Montclay!! I specifically ordered him not to move beyond Trevor Bridge!”

Graham’s fury echoed through the camp.

“Cavalry, mount up! We move for the Dandelion Plains immediately! Infantry, fortify Trevor Bridge! Bonmud, you’re guiding me to Montclay!”

✦✦✦

Where the jagged frozen mountains descended sharply, streams flowed out in many directions, forming a vast marshland that marked the border between the Roden Empire and the Kingdom of Azrion.

Beyond that—where the mountains’ roots ended and a burst of green emerged—lay the border forest between the two nations.

“The Imperial forces’ trail leads straight into that forest.”

Rian pointed toward the dense greenery. They had followed the tracks left in the marsh until they stopped there.

“They must’ve been in a hurry. Look at how they trampled the bushes.”

Pine frowned slightly as she gazed at the ruined forest that resembled her own hair color.

“Let’s go.”

Lea led the group forward. The sky was clear, but the forest ahead felt strangely oppressive.

Untouched by human hands, the overlapping leaves fought for sunlight, casting deep, uneven shadows.

Splash. Splash.

Lea stepped first into the waist-high water, Rian and the others following.

They moved quietly through the dim forest, the sound of trickling water and rustling leaves forming a deceptive calm.

Berki—clearly uncomfortable with the silence—broke it first.

“Ricky. Do you know what kinds of monsters live around here?”

He used the nickname he’d learned that morning, when Rian had told him about himself over the roasted boar.

Rian answered without emotion.

“This forest is known to have ghouls, but they’re not considered particularly dangerous.”
“What about up there?”

Berki pointed toward the mountains.

“There are frost wolves classified as beasts, but recently there’ve been ranger reports of trolls and lycanthropes forming packs and expanding their territory.”
“Hm. If trolls and lycans are living there, the Empire’s troops wouldn’t have chosen it as a route. If they managed to pass through that forest safely, maybe those monsters haven’t started grouping yet.”

Rian nodded in agreement. He wondered if perhaps a pack had recently descended from the mountains—but since there was no proof, he stayed silent.

Squish. Squish.

They crossed the water and stepped onto muddy ground.

Rian confirmed the mess of hoofprints and footprints leading deeper into the forest, the crushed plants forming a clear path.

It was unmistakably the Empire’s trail.

If that path ended with the Imperial troops safely returning to their territory, their reconnaissance mission would be over without issue.

Whoooosh—

But the foul stench carried on the wind warned that things would not go so smoothly. It felt like the forest itself was issuing a warning.

“From here on, we move carefully.”

Rian didn’t ignore it. His senses sharpened, reading the omen—the smell of blood, rot, and monsters.

Pine wrinkled her nose.

“No matter how much I get used to it, this smell never feels normal… whether it’s war or monsters, until both disappear from the continent, I doubt I’ll ever know what a real forest smells like.”

“Spread out,” Lea ordered. “Keep a distance wide enough that if we find Imperial traces, we can regroup quickly.”

Everyone followed her instructions without complaint, spreading into formation as they advanced.

No matter what awaited them ahead—whether the retreating Imperial troops had been slaughtered by monsters, or if the Empire was lying in ambush after slaying them—

They drew their weapons and stepped deeper into the forest to uncover the truth.

Step—

Their senses were heightened, missing not even the faintest sound.

The group moved close enough to keep each other in sight.

Yet they all felt the same unshakable dread.

“Too quiet.”

Not even the faint rustle of small animals or insects.

Maybe the boar Berkir had caught that morning had been the only creature to escape this forest.

And suddenly, Rian understood the source of that dread.

“Trolls… and lycanthropes.”

He couldn’t help but think of the monsters that lived in the frozen mountains—creatures stronger than murlocs, each requiring ten soldiers to bring down.

If those monsters were here, the situation would be reversed.

If more than ten trolls or lycanthropes charged them, could they possibly hold the line?

“Probably not.”

And if that really happened—if they were torn apart and eaten alive—what then?

If they somehow didn’t die?

“Tch. I don’t even want to imagine it.”

Rian frowned. The smell of death was getting stronger.

Fwoosh!

Suddenly, Pine darted forward without a word. Her keen sense of smell must’ve picked something up.

Moments later, her voice rang through the forest.

“Everyone, over here!”

They were already moving toward the direction she’d gone, so it didn’t take long for them all to gather.

The problem was—what lay before them once they did.