By Zephyria =======
In an attempt to get her son recognized as a Stohl warrior, White Deer drove Wolf into various battlefields. His father, Bronze-beaked Hawk, did not stop his wife, likely because he hoped the youngest son, who had rolled into their lives out of nowhere, would die in battle. The result?
He disappointed both his father and mother. Wolf did not die on the battlefield, nor did he manage to shake off the label of ‘Attendant.’ Regardless, in the process, enough blood to fill a dozen bathtubs stained Wolf’s hands. It wouldn’t have been strange at all if he had become someone’s sworn enemy.
However, this was Stohl. During the three years he spent in this barbaric land, Wolf had learned one thing. The people of Stohl never held anyone accountable for deaths that occurred on the battlefield. With tribal conflicts being commonplace, there was even a running joke that if the calculation of revenge were involved, the sound of babies crying would have ceased in Stohl long ago.
But Silver told me I was ‘the guy he saved to tear apart and kill.’
This part was truly strange. Wolf had only killed people on the battlefield.
Perhaps he was simply a petty man. Surprisingly, Wolf had seen more of that sort in Atania than in Stohl. A man who killed his wife after a trivial argument. A woman who cunningly fed onions to the neighbor’s dog because it damaged her garden. Silver might be that kind of person. Perhaps they had crossed paths by chance once, and Silver, enraged by a minor slip of the tongue, had designated him as a ‘bastard to be torn apart and killed.’
Wolf leaned toward this theory. Aside from his beautiful eye color, the aura he exuded was as murky as dishwater. Hmph, his inner pettiness must have erupted outward. Anyway, where is that bastard now? The cave? There’s no way those druggies would give a room to a mere lackey… Wait, why am I worrying about him?
Wolf smacked his thigh with his fist.
“Time.”
〔3:42 PM.〕
For the afternoon, the sky was as dark as night. The door remained wide open. The pouring rain had turned the dirt path into a shallow stream, and things like ropes and fish bones drifted along the winding current. No one was seen walking through the torrential rain toward this place. Not yet, at least.
Wolf slapped both his cheeks. Focus.
“Hey.”
〔Yes.〕
“You circled the island with me. Tell me. The main facilities.”
〔The main base is the so-called ‘Maze Pier.’ A harbor in the form of a semi-closed lagoon.〕
〔Main facilities: Ship launching ramp, tar kiln, blacksmith, woodworking shop, net repair warehouse, smoking room, salting room, assembly hall, prisoner warehouse, Bone Flute Tower. Five primary ships.〕
〔A closed whaling station on the east coast. Additionally, a central residence used as a command post and a site for sacrificial and oath rituals.〕
A map of the island slowly formed in Wolf’s mind.
〔For external intruders, the Bone Flute Tower is a high-risk facility. A tubular structure that causes illusions of distance and direction through acoustic interference.〕
〔Located on the waterway most accessible from the outside according to the map.〕
〔If approached closely, steering becomes impossible. High probability of crashing the hull into the reef zone.〕
“What about the pirates?”
〔Drug use observed in more than half of the adult population.〕
〔However, physical functions do not appear to be degraded. The majority maintain a muscle mass suitable for continuous physical labor, such as rowing and transporting.〕
Wolf remained silent for a moment. Suddenly, the sound of the rain intensified.
“How many are usable as combatants?”
〔Excluding non-combatants and those with severe disabilities, between 200 and 300 people.〕
〔Unsuitable as professional combatants. Due to drug addiction, they cannot endure sustained engagement. Suitable as consumables. Useful as disposables deployed for specific operations without expectation of survival.〕
“Ho.”
Wolf whistled.
“Useful as disposables? Isn’t that too generous an evaluation for those druggies?”
〔The state of drug addiction actually works advantageously for that purpose. Individuals with strong dependency are easy to motivate with short-term rewards and are less likely to question orders involving personal risk.〕
“That’s true.”
Wolf stared at the rain falling on the threshold.
Three hundred bodies. Villains who should not exist in this world.
Trash more worthless than breadcrumbs scattered on a deck.
Soon, Wolf’s expression hardened. Beyond the wide-open door, someone was walking through the torrential rain.
It was Silver.
Suddenly, his heart throbbed.
A drowned rat.
If he had to define Silver’s appearance in one phrase, that was it. A robe clinging to his body. Hair matted by rain despite wearing a hood. The hem of the robe was smeared with mud. His pace was neither slow nor fast. He looked indifferent on the surface, but one could never be sure. Behind that mask, a red-and-blue distorted expression might be lurking.
But?
He saw people following behind Silver. All senior pirates. Three of them.
They stopped in front of the lodging entrance. The smell of alcohol, fish oil, and hallucination herb wafted over to Wolf. One of the pirates shouted.
“Stuffy Field Mouse! Get out here!”
Wolf blinked. What is this?
“The kitchen is flooding! The drain is clogged! We have to scoop it out before the firewood gets soaked!”
“Get out here, you brat! I heard you’re good at house repairs! The kitchen pillar is on the verge of collapsing, so show off your skills while you’re at it!”
“You said you’d do the work of five people alone! Keep your promise, you brat!”
“Ah, yes!”
Wolf quickly stood up. He pressed the human-skin mask to his face and pulled the strings tight, tying them behind his head. For the first time, he felt grateful for the damn rule that ‘newcomers must wear a human-skin mask for one year.’ This mask, with its narrow mouth hole, was the most reliable shield in an awkward situation. I don’t know whose skin this is, but I’ll be counting on you from now on.
He headed toward the kitchen through the heavy rain. Clumps of tar floated in the muddy water like leaves. The pirates walking ahead poured out their complaints.
“Which crazy bastard threw fish guts into the rain gutter? That flowed into the drain and caused this mess.”
“Who else? Some guy who got drunk last night and vomited into any hole he saw. Was it you?”
“Am I insane? If the firewood gets wet, we’ll have to eat oats soaked in cold water tomorrow morning!”
Walking side by side behind the seniors, Wolf and Silver remained silent. They were close. Close enough for Wolf to smell the scent emanating from Silver’s robe. The smell of wet cloth, seawater, and mud.
They were at a distance where their hands would brush if they moved their arms just slightly. However, neither of them moved an arm. Neither opened their mouth.
Wolf walked while staring straight ahead. He had decided long ago. He would deny everything. He would just smile brightly and say, ‘Brother! I don’t know anything!’ Compared to the time he was recklessly driven into battle without proper combat training, this psychological warfare was a cute joke.
However, Silver was someone who had survived the den of skeleton wraiths. Moreover, he was very strong. His utility was incomparably greater than that of these trash pirates. While handling last night’s incident as a mistake, he would be careful not to grate on the man’s nerves. If possible, he would even attempt to be friendly. He doubted if it were possible, but he wanted to make it so that Silver could laugh it off even if he later revealed he was an ‘Attendant.’
“You didn’t die.”
Suddenly, a voice flew through the rain. Fuck, you scared me.
It was unexpected for the blunt Silver to speak first. Wolf calmly tilted his head slightly. Silver was walking with his gaze fixed on the pirates ahead.
“Why would I die?”
Wolf asked back in a bewildered tone. Silver’s step faltered for a moment.
“…It looked painful.”
“It was. But how would you know that, brother?”
Wolf mixed a moderate amount of surprise into his voice. After a beat, he added with a light laugh.
“Ah, you must have stopped by the lodging while I was groaning in pain, right?”
Silver said nothing. Just as Wolf was about to throw out another word, one of the pirates looked back.
“What? What are you two whispering about? Don’t tell me you’re dating?”
“No.”
Silver answered, stepping ahead of Wolf.
“I was thinking about when to bury this guy in the ground.”
Wolf was simply speechless. He had suspected it, but as expected, that petty fellow was thoroughly enraged by the collision accident. Even so, burial alive…? Hey, I was in a state of mental and physical weakness back then!
“Really? Steal a shovel that cuts well, then.”
Absurdly, the senior pirate added to the fire. Wolf stopped speaking and trudged along. I’ll just keep my mouth shut. These were people with whom rational conversation did not work.
The state of the communal kitchen was more magnificent than Wolf had expected. A pillar had tilted inward, smashing the wooden wall, and the rain pouring through the gap created a fierce spray inside the room. The pillar was tilted at an angle of about 40 degrees. The two jars placed as rain gutters were already overflowing. The drain nearest to the tilted pillar was completely clogged, spewing water everywhere.
91 – Hell’s Execution Order