The crash of the kicked-in wooden door rang far through the gray mist, shattering the dead silence of the wall in an instant. The rotting corpses all around let out eerie wails. Watching the skull markers converge fast on the little map, the faint snarls drifting at the edge of his hearing, Field couldn't help but break into a sweat despite himself.
The corpse inside hadn't even managed to attack before Ashina, long blade in hand, swept it across the neck. A jet of blood spurted up the wall, and the whole room lit with a flash of black-purple gore.
A second corpse lunged at her at once, its cheek split clean open all the way to the ear. A bite from that thing would have torn off a fist-sized chunk of flesh.
But Ashina simply slid past it as if it were nothing, flipping her blade as she went.
Bolstered by that terrifying strength, the corpse lost half its head; foul blood gushed from the gap, and in moments it pooled into a small lake of blood.
"Roooar!"
Drawn by the sounds of the fight, a mass of corrupted soldiers suddenly poured out of the corridor, rolling their revolting white eyes, jostling as they surged into the kill.
The slaves swung their tools about, all flourish and no nerve — not one dared step forward.
The monsters alone were terrifying enough, and these wore heavy armor besides.
"Fuck me — just how many got infected?" Field cursed under his breath.
"Flames!"
Ashina loosed the dragonkin wolf. Its huge body all but plugged the entire corridor.
Specks of magical energy gathered fast, like a star-river rushing in, and the dragonkin wolf opened its maw and spewed a great gout of ghostly blue fire. The corpses in the corridor were instantly swallowed by the flames — only a few writhing, twisting silhouettes could be seen.
"What terrifying power."
The slaves had been wavering between fleeing and fighting, never expecting the sudden battle to end in the blink of an eye. A few had seen only the devoured figures; the rest could only stare blankly at the ashes on the floor.
"So this is the power of a Chosen? Pity it burned up the spoils too." Field's confidence surged; it was time to be bolder. "Everyone, make as much noise as you can — draw the nearby corpses over here so we can wipe them out."
At Field's word, the slaves obligingly banged and smashed at random, letting Ashina and her dragon-blood wolf annihilate the corpses as they gathered.
In short order, Field had cleared out every monster around the barracks. The fight gave him a deeper understanding of the Chosen, too.
"Now — let's find the valuables." With his cards finally on the table, Field bared a greedy smile. "Weapons and gold above all."
He'd barely scattered the slaves to search when one came sprinting back, shouting in excitement.
"My lord, we've found survivors!"
"Huh?" Field showed no joy at all; instead he swept the surroundings with a complicated look in his eyes.
"Ashina, recall your wolf. Now's not the time to show our hand."
Without enough time to grow his strength, exposing the fact that he had a Chosen was just begging to die.
His stepmother would surely send assassins after him, then hand Ashina off to a new master.
Letting the slaves see was no great matter — they were always right under his eye, and a single thought from him could send the lot of them to the next world.
Field mused, "The survivors might know where the important supplies are."
The survivors had holed up in a bunker built into the wall. Its door had been doused with purifying potion, just enough to hold off the gray mist for a while. Hearing living voices, they finally dared open up.
"Thank the Valkyrie. I thought we'd be stuck a whole week — long enough that we'd have to survive eating each other's filth." The bearded officer cracked a disgusting joke, then straightened his gear and smiled at Field. "Er, let me guess — a newly made knight? I'll be sure to report your deeds to Baron Bull."
"You're too kind. It was nothing." Field tilted his head, trying to see what was inside the bunker, but two soldiers blocked his view.
The bearded officer's ten men were all inside the bunker.
"And your retainers?" The officer glanced at Field's slave-soldiers — those tool-wielding wretches weren't worth a second thought to him.
Field shrugged. "I'm no knight. I'm Baron Field."
"Oh? Baron Field — that's the one without a single guard to his name. Back when you sent men to donate, they mentioned you." The bearded man's expression grew stranger by the second. After his face changed a few times, he shot a meaningful glance at his men and said with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, "My lord baron, we've long heard of your kind heart. I wonder if you'd do us a little favor."
Something's off about that tone.
The original really had been kind. Field cocked an eyebrow and played dumb. "Let's hear it."
"We got drunk and forgot to light the mist-dispelling lamp, so the gray mist poured into the barracks and we lost control of it. No small mess. Baron Bull is cruelty itself — we'll surely be put to death."
And this is something I get to hear for free?
"So..." Field's expression turned playful. "You want to throw yourselves on my mercy?"
"Hahaha!" The soldiers all burst out laughing and tightened their grips on their weapons. "We're making a run for it! But we'll need a noble's entire savings. Also — killing you means no one knows we exist, at least for a while."
"This is how you treat your benefactor?"
Field was good and angry. His original plan had been to take the survivors in and find the supplies. If they wouldn't cooperate, he wouldn't have minded cutting them all down — but being the one provoked first still rankled.
The bearded man couldn't have cared less. "If we'd had a mist-dispelling lamp, we'd have cut our way out long ago. You're nothing!"
Field snorted out a laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" The bearded man raised his saber, then faltered, thrown by Field's perfect calm.
"It's just — I came here to loot the place anyway. This works out nicely. Kill the lot of you and there are no witnesses. Ashina, go."
The soldier beside the bearded man exploded into motion, short blade stabbing straight for Field.
In a flash of lightning, a ghostly-blue figure streaked past. The soldier's arm was torn off as effortlessly as a grasshopper's leg yanked loose.
"Clang!"
The air seemed to freeze. By the time the short blade hit the floor, the soldier had collapsed in terror, clutching the stump that fountained blood, howling in anguish.
"My arm! My arm!"
The ghostly-blue giant wolf plugged the entire corridor, its scale-clad body looming like a tank, the kind of sight that froze the breath in your chest.
"Monster!" The soldiers were scared pissing-themselves witless by the thing that had appeared out of nowhere.
"What the hell? Didn't they say Baron Field had no foundation at all — that he was a complete and utter waste?" The bearded officer stood dumbstruck; right now he wanted nothing more than to drag the rumor-mongers out and flay them to the bone.
"Ashina, leave them all crippled." Field licked the corner of his mouth. The original was a saint, but what did that have to do with him? "Slaves — here's your chance to build some nerve! One silver coin for every man you kill."