I Want to Go Home

"Dick, to thank you for your help, come serve me."

Even Dick himself had not expected Romain's first words upon seeing him to be this, delivered so casually.

He froze for a moment before saying, "I am Dick the traitor, a master-devourer. There is no place for me in this land."

Borg had caused far too much trouble. This time, Dick had no choice but to act. If anything happened to Romain Armor-Splitting, all of Sigg Town would face utter ruin. They had merely fled into the mountains; that did not mean they feared the power of the civilized world no longer.

Grand Duke Armor-Splitting might be old, but the Armored Breaker family would never tolerate such a thing.

Romain spread his hands, the corners of his mouth curling upward. He smiled brightly. "Then how about I give you a place to belong?"

Dick froze again. It was one thing that this new lord had not shouted for his death, but why did he keep talking about giving him a home?

Do you really know what I did before? Aren't you afraid I'll chop off your head too?

Dick was deeply puzzled. After hesitating for a moment, he said, "I have never considered such a thing."

He never hesitated to judge others by the worst possible intentions. This young lord appeared warm and gentle on the surface, but he was a ruthless man through and through—the wolf blood on his clothes was still steaming, with plenty splashed across his neck and face, yet he still wore a smiling expression that made one's scalp tingle. Perhaps the moment Dick truly agreed, Romain would smash his wine cup at dinner, five hundred axemen would leap out from beneath the table, and they would carry Dick's head off to claim a reward.

That would have been perfectly normal. What he had done was far too vile, and only ten years had passed. The Black Iron Kingdom's wanted notice for him had probably not yet been withdrawn.

But he had to admit, he was tempted.

Those words were simply too enticing for someone as displaced as him.

Seeing Dick hesitate, Romain knew there was hope, and his foul mood brightened as well.

Just then, another figure approached from the distance, carrying a bloody wolf head in his hand.

Only then did Romain realize that the battle with the alpha wolf had ended as well.

And the person who had ended it was also a stranger.

As the man approached, Romain saw that he was unremarkable in appearance, of average build, dressed in ragged, filthy leather armor as though he had not bathed for years. His expression was equally indifferent.

There was no need for introductions. Romain had already guessed who he was.

"Jet, the battlefield deserter..."

Hearing Romain call his name, Jet paused, somewhat at a loss. In the end, he chose to lower his head to Romain in greeting.

Romain continued, "Your skills are quite impressive. Want to come work for me?"

To kill the alpha wolf so quickly and emerge unscathed, he had to be at least a second-rank transcendent, surely even stronger than Aaron—Aaron met the standards of a second-rank transcendent in every respect, but his offensive power was somewhat lacking.

Jet froze just as Dick had earlier.

Dick, meanwhile, gave Romain a strange look.

So you say that to everyone!

Dick's feelings were a tangled mess.

Jet's response, however, was direct. "I refuse."

"You said that so decisively. Aren't you afraid I'll have someone chop you to death?"

Jet took a step back. "If you come to kill me... then I can only run somewhere else."

Shasta suddenly said, "Romain Armor-Splitting, I helped you kill all the wolves. You can let Gevra leave with me now, can't you?"

Romain shot her a sidelong glance. "When did I ever agree to that?"

Shasta fell silent. She knew Romain had not agreed, but had she not contributed as well?

If I hadn't held back and dealt with those two wolves, then even if Dick and Jet had come to help, at least half your guards would have been killed or wounded.

Are you going to deny everything now that you've turned your back on me?

At that moment, another group arrived in this stretch of forest.

Mol wiped the sweat from his forehead. The mountain paths were difficult to traverse, and with his build, rushing this far today had probably cost him at least half a pound.

But there was no helping it. If anything happened to Romain, he would not need to lose weight for the rest of his life.

He had hurried as fast as he could, but he was still too late. The battle had clearly ended. Wolf corpses lay everywhere, evidence of a brutal fight. Yet Romain stood there perfectly fine. Though covered in blood, he did not seem injured.

Mol was overjoyed. "Lord Romain, it is wonderful that you are all right."

Romain glanced at Mol. Earlier, at Garin's cabin, they had been attacked by a brown bear. Although there had been no deaths, seven men had been injured, most of them suffering fractures from being crushed. He had no choice but to temporarily settle them in Garin's cabin.

Garin had medicinal herbs for treating injuries.

Mol had most likely heard the wolves howling, so he had called on three guards and hunters with lighter injuries to come support him. For someone as cowardly and afraid of death as Mol, this was an enormous challenge.

This man had passed the test.

At first, Mol had been delighted to see that Romain was unharmed. But after spotting Jet and Dick, his expression became somewhat strained. When he saw the ragged girl hiding behind Dick, his face stiffened even further.

He knew this girl. As Agricultural Officer, he still remembered the residents of Sigg Town.

Gevra saw Mol as well. Naturally, she was no stranger to Sigg Town's Agricultural Officer. A local official was more intimidating than a distant lord; even if Romain truly was Sigg Town's lord, Mol was far more threatening to her.

So she hid even deeper behind Dick, trembling.

Dick sighed and patted her little head.

Romain also realized the situation now, so he spoke plainly. "Next, let's discuss who Gevra belongs with."

Shasta said firmly, "I have to take her with me!"

"See? We can't negotiate like this." Romain thought for a moment. "Since neither of us is willing to give in, why not let Gevra decide for herself?"

Romain had no choice but to compromise. The black-haired Witch before him was far too strong, and he could not afford any losses right now.

Jet and Dick might not necessarily help him either.

Shasta frowned, realizing this was the best choice.

"Fine!" Shasta nodded, then looked at the little Witch. "Then, Gevra, are you willing to come with me?"

Suddenly becoming the center of everyone's attention placed an enormous burden on Gevra.

"I don't know..." Gevra was terrified beyond measure.

She did not know why both Shasta and Romain valued her so highly. She was clearly nothing but a harbinger of disaster, yet they had clashed so fiercely over her and nearly come to blows.

She looked pleadingly at Dick, but the man who had once cared for her so much turned his head away.

She looked at Jet again, but this battlefield deserter gave her no response either.

They left the choice to Gevra herself.

In that moment, Gevra thought of many things.

She thought of the agony and despair on her mother's face when her identity as a Witch had been exposed, and of her father's hysterics in bed.

On that cold night, she had been as helpless as a newborn child. The door had opened, and her mother had held her in her arms one last time in grief before hanging a cloth bag filled with peas around her neck. It was the family's food supply for the next three days. After her father broke his leg, that food had become even more vital. They would have no choice but to borrow grain from Agricultural Officer Mol afterward, even if they had to repay twice as much after the autumn harvest.

Then her mother had painfully pushed her away, telling her to flee into the mountains, never to come down again, and never to let anyone know. In a daze, she had made her way into the deep mountains, but the power of that curse still lingered around her, affecting everything near her.

She did not even know how she had survived these past two years. She had found rabbits that crashed into trees and died, picked edible wild fruit, and gathered nonpoisonous mushrooms, but that barely met her most basic needs. Every day was spent in hunger and cold.

If not for Uncle Dick giving her a huge bear fur, Brother Jet bringing her plenty of meat, Grandpa Garin treating her illnesses and helping her regain her strength, Uncle Borg teaching her wilderness survival skills, the hunters bringing her all kinds of daily necessities, and her mother finding ways to squeeze out a portion of food from home and regularly bringing it into the mountains for her, she likely would have died in the first winter.

No matter how many hardships she faced, how much pain and torment of loneliness she endured, or how she worried every day simply to survive, she had never considered leaving. She had always remembered her mother's instruction—never come down from the mountain.

But was it possible now?

Was it possible?

Was it really possible?

Uncle Dick was here.

Uncle Jet was here too.

Agricultural Officer Mol was here.

The lord she had never heard of was here.

Lady Shasta, who was willing to take her away, was here too.

Was all of this going to end?

Gevra raised her little face. Crystal tears shimmered in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, making that dirty little face seem somewhat radiant.

She said, "I want to go home..."