part0005

For several weeks, Lark relentlessly made his way toward the Forbidden Region. The snow had grown thick by then. Everything was blanketed white.

He occasionally passed by a small town or a village. Unfortunately, unlike Golden Wheat City, it seemed that this region had been hit by the black famine this year and hadn’t recovered. All of the villages he passed through along the way were in a terrible state. Some of the shacks had collapsed due to the piled-up snow, and he saw several dead bodies outside half-buried in snow. Looking closely, the dead bodies were emaciated, as though they hadn’t eaten anything for days.

Lark looked up. The sky kept howling as fierce wind and snow blew. It seemed that the blizzard wouldn’t stop any time soon.

“Looks like I need to stay in an inn tonight,” he mumbled.

He entered the nearest village and went toward a nearby cabin, which he presumed to be an inn based on the snow-covered sign dangling from its eaves. There was even a small shed next to it for his mount.

Lark knocked on the door several times. When he heard no response, he knocked again and said in a loud voice, “Hello? Is the inn open? Can I stay here for the night?”

“Is no one home?” he asked himself.

Lark looked to his rear. He noticed a group approaching him. Judging by the way they glared at him, and the threatening way they held their farming tools, it was easy to see what they were aiming for.

The moment they’d surrounded Lark, one of them shouted, “G-Give us all of your belongings and we’ll spare your life!”

There was a hint of fear within the man’s words. Now that Lark had taken a careful look, all of the men surrounding him were skin and bone. They held the same appearance as the other villagers Lark encountered on his way here. They wore thin, tattered tunics, with only straw hats protecting their heads against the freezing snow. No wonder they were all trembling as they held their sickles, shovels, and rakes.

When Lark didn’t reply to their previous demand, the same villager repeated, “G-Give us all of your belongings! Leave everything behind and we’ll spare your life!”

The emaciated man’s voice was close to crying. He sounded so desperate. The fear within his eyes was clearly evident. They definitely weren’t bandits. They had probably never killed a single person before in their lives.

“And if I don’t?” Lark finally spoke.

The villagers saw the sword dangling on his waist, half-concealed by his woolen coat.

“T-That’s… W-We’ll kill you!” one of the villagers choked the words out.

Lark could see why these people were doing this. It had been a few weeks since winter started and judging by the state of the crops he’d passed by along the way, this village was among those hit terribly by the previous black famine.

The villagers must have been dying from hunger and the cold since winter arrived.

For a moment, Lark was reminded of Blackstone Town. His territory was in such a terrible state just a year ago. People were dying on the streets from the cold, after their shacks collapsed from the piled-up snow. Some people even started digging up the roots of trees and eating them just to survive.

He looked at the villagers currently surrounding him from all sides. They too were scrambling for survival.

After seeing Lark’s sword and his expensive-looking mount, these men must have realized that they had targeted the wrong person. It was easy to see the fear in their eyes that they would lose their lives tonight. They must have thought that he was a knight serving under a noble house.

“Kill me, huh?” mumbled Lark.

One of the villagers took a step back upon hearing this. The rest, on the other hand, flinched and tightened their grips on their weapons.

Lark fell silent for a moment, his face half-shrouded by his hood.

Eventually, he spoke. “I can give you my food, but I’m afraid you’ll have to kill me if you wish to steal my other valuables,” said Lark.

Boris County was only a day or two from here. He could definitely survive without eating during that time. These villagers, on the other hand, would probably die soon if they weren’t able to procure any food.

Lark was sure that there were children inside those dilapidated shacks, waiting for them to return.

“J-Just the food is fine!” said one of the villagers. “W-We’ll let you keep your sword, your mount, and your other valuables with you!”

It was good that they weren’t too greedy.

Lark unstrapped a large leather bag from his horse and tossed it toward the man who appeared to be the leader of the group.

“That’s all the food I have,” said Lark. “Take it.”

The leader of the group immediately dropped his weapon and grabbed the leather bag, as though afraid that Lark would suddenly change his mind. Upon opening, a shout of glee unconsciously escaped his mouth. His eyes were wide as he stared at the meat jerkies and loaves of bread inside.

Although it wouldn’t be enough to feed the entire village, at the very least, they would be able to feed the starving children. The same thoughts ran through everyone’s mind as they gawked at the leather bag filled with food, as though it was some sort of treasure.

Lark mounted his horse.

Everyone looked at him, relieved that the young man had no intention of fighting back. For a moment, they had worried that several lives would be lost tonight.

The villagers thanked the Gods above.

“A-As promised, we’ll let you go,” said the leader of the group.

They both knew that it was actually the other way around. This young man was simply being benevolent to the pitiful bunch.

Lark smiled and lightly bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Lark looked in the direction of the nearby forest. “I saw some burdock on my way here to the village. You can make some soup with its roots. Walk about ten minutes east of this village and you should see it. If I’m not mistaken, it’s near a large boulder.”

The villagers were thrilled to hear this. Burdock was not only edible, its roots also tasted meaty, with some sweetness, when cooked properly. The children would surely love it.

The villagers looked at each other as shame and guilt started creeping in. The young man not only gave them all of his food, he also told them about the root crop he saw on his way here.

“Y-Young man,” said one of the villagers. “You came here to find an inn, isn’t that right? I know this sounds preposterous coming from me, especially after we robbed you of your rations, but you can stay the night in my house.”

Lark pondered for a moment.

It was a good offer, but he decided to reject it. “No, thank you. It’d be better for me to be on my way.”

Lark deemed that this was the best course of action right now. If he stayed here, the villagers would be reminded that they’d mugged an innocent young man.

He didn’t really resent them. Even weak people like them would do anything to live, to ensure their loved ones’ survival. They were just unlucky that they had been struck by the black famine and hadn’t managed to recover before winter arrived.

Without uttering another word, Lark spurred his horse forward and left the village.

That night, he ended up using his mana to create a small shed made of earth magic. Although he could tolerate the freezing snow, it seemed that his horse was approaching its limit. He ended up staying the night inside the shed, right in the middle of the forest.

His stomach also grumbled from the lack of food, but Lark simply ignored it, thinking that the emaciated villagers had it far worse. He’d reach Boris County soon anyway.

When morning came, Lark immediately resumed his journey. And finally, after almost two days, he reached Boris County. A vast territory composed of the City of Daxton and its three surrounding towns.

The City of Daxton was nearest the Forbidden Region, and it served as the regulating body stopping unruly people from entering that death zone.

It was noon when Lark entered the city.

Unlike the dying villages he encountered on his way here, this place was bustling with life. Its population was almost comparable to the capital.

The City of Daxton had no walls—Count Boris never saw the need to have them built, since the Forbidden Region formed a natural barrier preventing the United Grakas Alliance from invading.

The beastmen race would have to cross a monster-infested area before they could even reach this city. It would be a foolish move, and the beastmen never even attempted it.

No wonder the county was flourishing. Despite being next to the Forbidden Region, this was one of the safest places in the entire kingdom.

Lark’s first destination was the nearest tavern. He felt so famished that he no longer cared about the bland taste of the meat in such a place. He ordered two plates full of meat and a tankard of juice.

Although it was only noon, a couple of tables around him were already full of men drinking to their hearts’ content. The lively atmosphere was a stark contrast to the dying villages Lark had encountered.

“Hey, did you hear? It seems that Lord Arzen started reorganizing the army.”

“Idiot. Are you living under a rock? That’s old news. He started reorganizing the army before autumn even ended.”

Lark heard the familiar name, he continued eating and listened silently.

“Lord Arzen really has changed ever since he came back from that war, huh?”

“My old man works in the army and he’d never seen the lord so desperate to improve his swordsmanship skills. My old man said it’s like the lord became an entirely different person.”

“Well, he became a commander in the previous war. You’d be surprised how much war can change someone.”

“Wait, don’t tell me… the reason he ordered all those priests—”

“Yeah. That’s the reason he hired all of the best healers in the county to cure the captain of the royal knights. I heard that Captain Symon promised the lord that he’d teach him the Marrozo Swordsmanship once he’s fully healed.”

“Wow! As expected of our Lord! So, he’ll soon learn the swordsmanship of the Sword Saint!”

“But I heard that the captain lost an arm during the incident in the Forbidden Region? Can he even teach the lord in such condition?”

Lark had heard that the captain of the royal knights, the one who survived an encounter with the Scylla, was recuperating in this county. He didn’t expect that Arzen Boris was behind the quick response of the priests and magicians to heal the captain.

Lark smiled as he remembered the commander of the Second Army.

Arzen was still young. It was good that he was striving for greater heights and wasn’t complacent in what he’d achieved so far. In the near future, these young sprouts would become this kingdom’s pillar.

Lark finished both plates, paid the bill, and went straight to the armor shop.

He’d heard that the Forbidden Region was dangerous, not only due to the monsters roaming the ruins, but because of the flesh-eating poison gas oozing out of the cracks in the ground. Surely, the armor shop would have items capable of protecting against the gas. It wouldn’t make sense, otherwise.

The armor shop in this city was vastly different from those in the other major cities of the kingdom. Not only did it sell chain mail and plate armor, but also clothes and armor made from the skin of monsters living in the Forbidden Region.

The clothes and armor made from the skin of those monsters were naturally resilient against the poison gas. There was even a leather mask being sold, capable of neutralizing the gas.

Lark bought a complete set of leather armor made from the skin of a green desert serpent—a snake living in the inner parts of the Forbidden Region—and two masks capable of neutralizing the poison gas.

Thankfully, the shop owner didn’t ask why Lark was making the purchase. It seemed to be a normal occurrence for people to buy this same set of items before exploring the Forbidden Region. The shop owner looked at Lark for a moment and shook his head as though disappointed that another person would die soon, before accepting the payment.