Chapter 112
It had been four days since Caron and his group departed from Galad. And just as Orion had warned them, the journey toward the southern reaches of the Great Forest was anything but easy.
It was so difficult that even Leon, who was usually gentle and kind, had been pushed to the brink of madness.
"Leon, could you spare me some salt—" Leo asked, but was interrupted.
"Ugh... Leo! Didn't I tell you to stop wasting your salt? Get lost! I barely have enough for myself!" Leon yelled.
"Leon... Why are you being so harsh...?" Leo asked hesitantly.
"What? How long do I have to keep nagging you? If there's no salt, just eat it raw! Look at Utula over there! He's munching through the whole thing, bones and all!" she added.
Sulking, Leo bit into the deer meat in his hands with visible resentment. Then he turned an accusatory gaze toward Caron and complained, "If it was going to be this bad, why didn't we just take an easier route? Why do we have to go looking for trouble?"
The four-day journey had been far worse than Leo expected. There were relentless monster attacks day and night, and unforgiving terrain with barely any proper paths.
Out of all the missions Leo had been on, this was undoubtedly the worst. But the absolute worst part of it all was the food. Caron, that lunatic, had only packed enough food for two days.
"When your stomach's full, training doesn't go as well," Caron said casually. "And hey, we can always gather food along the way. What's the big deal, Leo?"
"The big deal? We could've just stocked up in Galad from the start, when we had the chance!" Leo snapped.
"You survived just fine in that demonic monster-infested forest last time, didn't you?" Caron pointed out.
"That's because there was nothing to eat back then, you idiot!" Leo countered.
"Well, just think of it the same way now. What's so hard about that? In fact, this is all for your benefit, Leo," Caron said.
Caron's twisted reasoning had no end. But what infuriated Leo the most was...
"Then why is it that your bag keeps producing jerky non-stop?" Leo asked.
Caron hadn't foraged for food a single time. While everyone else starved, he was happily munching on jerky and bread.
Leo had been suspicious back in Galad when he saw Caron loading up his pack.
"The elves make fantastic jerky. I need to buy more when we head back to Azureocean Castle," Caron commented with an innocent grin.
Caron was utterly impossible to reason with.
Leo wanted to argue further, but Leon stepped in to diffuse the situation. She said, "Caron's always been obsessed with jerky. Just let it go."
"But Leon—" Leo began.
"After the mission, we'll turn him into jerky ourselves. He loves jerky so much, it wouldn't hurt for him to experience it firsthand," Leon interrupted as she glared at Caron with murderous intensity.
Leon had been incredibly kind when they first met, but since entering the forest, something about her had changed dramatically.
However, Caron only smiled brightly and nodded, then said, "I'm fully prepared to endure all your hatred. Please, despise me as much as you like. If it makes you stronger, I'll gladly—"
"Shut up," Leon cut him off.
"No need to feel shy about it," Caron replied with a smug grin.
Satisfied with his antics, he pulled out a map from his coat. Thanks to the patrol unit's notes, determining their current location wasn't too difficult.
"We're about halfway there," Caron announced.
They were now in an area bordering the zone the elves had explicitly marked as forbidden. In other words, they weren't far from a dragon's lair.
Caron slowly turned his gaze, scanning the surroundings. He muttered to himself, "The vegetation looks a bit different."
The reason the area around a dragon's lair was so dangerous was clear. It was due to the presence of the dragon's Guardians; they were monsters that protected the lair. Their nature varied depending on the dragon they served, but Caron already knew exactly which dragon this lair belonged to.
It was the infamous venomous dragon, Etyron, whose name appeared in the chronicles of Rael Leston, the founder of Caron's family. Etyron had once claimed the southern reaches of the Great Forest.
"Pluto," Caron called softly.
A shadow flowed from his hand, taking the shape of a cat.
"Meow!" The dark blue feline rubbed its head affectionately against Caron.
"Go and take a look around the area," Caron instructed.
"Meow..." Pluto shook its head in clear defiance, earning an exasperated sigh from Caron, who then raised his fist slightly.
"Want me to use this instead?" he threatened with a smirk.
The blatant intimidation worked like a charm. Pluto had grown close to Caron over the past week, but it was mostly due to similar tactics. Remembering the recent lessons, Pluto darted away, melting into the forest's shadows.
One of Pluto's abilities was Shadow Concealment, which allowed it to scout without bounding through the woods like an excitable puppy. Caron only needed to share Pluto's vision to gather information.
"At least that saves me some trouble," Guillotine remarked with a satisfied tone.
Until now, Caron's group had relied entirely on Guillotine's heightened senses. Finally, they had proper reconnaissance capabilities.
"Etyron," Guillotine mused. "I can still remember the moment I severed its neck. Should I tell you the story? Let's see, where should I start—"
"Wow, that sounds fascinating," Caron interjected flatly.
"...I haven't even started yet," Guillotine said.
"That's why it's fascinating," Caron replied.
Ignoring the sword's voice, Caron focused on Pluto's vision.
Etyron's lair had been abandoned for three centuries, ever since its master was slain. But it was still a dragon's former abode, riddled with magical traps, lingering Guardians, and countless dangers. Even after three hundred years, the elves still avoided the area for good reason.
"Those pointy-eared cowards," Guillotine scoffed. "Their master's dead, so the Guardians must've scattered too. Typical elves—no sense of adventure..."
"Guillotine," Caron interrupted.
" What?" Guillotine asked.
"Shut up for a moment," Caron replied.
Guillotine's observation wasn't wrong. Without their master, the Guardians were supposed to have either disappeared or diminished in number.
However, what Pluto's vision revealed was entirely unexpected. Hanging from the trees were numerous cocoons, from which monsters were actively hatching. Golems moved among them, tending to the cocoons like caretakers.
This place isn't abandoned, Caron thought.
The lair's functions appeared operational. While the number of Guardians was still relatively low, the activity suggested that the lair had only recently been reactivated.
"Hmm..." Caron frowned as his thoughts raced. This contradicted the information Orion had given them.
Orion wouldn't have lied to us, Caron reasoned. That left only one possibility: The elves themselves were unaware of this situation.
"Guillotine, are you certain Etyron is dead?" Caron asked.
"Certain enough to have forged weapons from its corpse. It didn't come back as an undead creature, either. Why? Changed your mind about listening to my story?" Guillotine asked.
"The lair's active again," Caron replied.
"...What? That's impossible..." Guillotine trailed off before offering a hypothesis. "Maybe a hatchling emerged? But why now, after over three hundred years? Wait... You're not planning to check it out, are you?"
"Do I look insane to you?" Caron answered.
There was no need to take such a risk. The reactivation of the lair was undoubtedly ominous, but it was an issue for the elves to address, not them.
Caron quickly made his decision, announcing, "We're going around."
There was no sense in poking a hornet's nest. While it would take an extra day, skirting westward along the coastline was the safer option. Caron had deliberately chosen dangerous paths to help his comrades grow stronger, but this was a line he couldn't cross.
"If we circle west, it'll add about a day to our journey. Let's pick up the pace to make up for it," Caron suggested.
His comrades breathed a collective sigh of relief and nodded in agreement.
...This doesn't sit well with me, Caron thought as he glanced back toward the forest. Something was definitely stirring within the Great Forest.
But for now, Caron pushed aside his unease and pressed forward. Finding Kerra was their priority.
***
Deciding to take a detour made the journey significantly smoother. Soon, they reached a point where the southern sea peeked through gaps in the trees. After enduring relentless battles, Caron and his group were finally able to appreciate the serene beauty of the southern reaches of the Great Forest.
"It's beautiful," Leon said softly. Even her previously sharp demeanor had mellowed somewhat. A faint smile spread across her face as she gazed at the ocean.
"It's nothing like the North Sea," Leon added.
"Oh right, you've been to the North Sea before for your Coming of Age. How is it there?" Caron asked.
Leon shrugged and answered, "It's an awful place. There are demonic monsters everywhere, and it's freezing cold and barren."
"Now that I think about it, Leo will have to go for his Coming of Age after this mission ends," Caron said.
In the Ducal Family of Leston, Coming of Age took place when one turned nineteen. It wasn't an extravagant ritual; rather, it was simply a journey to the North Sea to confront the origins of their lineage. Completing the ceremony granted them the right to participate in the family's official affairs.
"That's right," Leo sighed. "I'm already worried about it. Do you think I'll do well?"
"Don't worry, you'll do just fine," Caron replied.
"Leo Leston," Utula chimed in, his voice booming with exaggerated pride. "Take pride in your accomplishments! You are a warrior I personally approve. If your family does not recognize you, my tribe will welcome you as an adult."
Then, Utula pounded his chest a few times and turned to Caron, offering, "How about we catch some fish for dinner? I can handle it."
"You know how to catch fish?" Caron asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course. A warrior must be able to secure food anywhere," Utula declared.
"That's a good idea. I was getting tired of just eating meat," Caron agreed.
At the mention of fish, Leo and Leon's faces immediately lit up.
"I'd like mine raw," Leon said.
"I think grilled fish sounds better," Leo countered.
It was clear that everyone was growing weary of their meat-heavy diet.
"And to think that not long ago, some of you were threatening to turn me into jerky," Caron teased.
Leon responded with a radiant smile, "Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure we follow through on that."
"What good timing. The sea's right there, Leon," Leo added. "We could dry him with the sea breeze."
"That's a fantastic idea, Leo," Leon said, grinning.
"I'll even share my tribe's jerky recipe," Utula offered enthusiastically.
The three of them seemed to have bonded closely for the moment. As always, having a common target brought people together.
I'm used to being the villain anyway, Caron thought with a wry smile as he led the group forward.
They walked for some time before Caron suddenly stopped. "Hold on," he said, chewing on a strip of jerky as he crouched down to examine the ground.
Footprints? he thought.
The dirt showed multiple sets of tracks, interspersed with broken branches. Someone had passed through recently.
There were at least ten people, Caron estimated, studying the footprints' shapes.
Leon approached quietly and also examined the tracks. "They're not elves. Elves don't leave footprints," she said. "These are from leather boots."
"Humans?" Caron asked.
"Most likely," Leon replied. She brushed the dirt from her fingers and added, "It's a little damp. They probably came from the sea. They didn't pass through long ago, so let's have Pluto confirm it."
Caron nodded slowly and summoned Pluto again. It didn't take long for the spirit's reconnaissance to yield results. Within a minute, Pluto's vision revealed a group of strangers.
As expected, there were about ten of them, all armed and moving quickly. What stood out was the crimson armbands each of them wore on their right arm.
"Humans, leather boots, sea, red armbands," Caron murmured to himself.
Leon quickly pieced the details together. It wasn't difficult to deduce their identity. There was only one armed group in the southern seas that used red armbands.
"...Pirates," she said in a hushed voice.
Caron nodded and added, "Looks like they're the Pirate Queen's men."
"If they're wearing red armbands, they're under Bessic, the Sixth Hero," Leon continued. "But what are they doing here?"
"They seem to be chasing an elf," Caron observed. "No way pirates are here to help the elves, though."
He drew Guillotine from its sheath, his lips curling into a faint smirk as he said, "Let's ask them directly."