Serie's Self-Blame

The group did not head straight for the human tribe; instead, they searched along the river for Rhode's whereabouts.

Yet after a full day of searching, they found nothing.

When night fell, they set up a small temporary camp and lit a campfire.

There was no need to worry about Monster attacks here, and the wild beasts posed no danger to them at all.

"Don't worry. Tomorrow we'll go to that human tribe. Maybe Rhode has already arrived there first."

Seeing Serie's pale little face, Kraft offered some comfort.

Her complexion was clearly the aftereffect of overdrawing her magic power. Besides, he had learned earlier that the Demon and all its Monsters under its command had been killed by Serie.

It seemed Serie had paid no small price for that.

"I should have done this sooner," Serie murmured, almost to herself.

They shouldn't have been chased so miserably by that Monster in the first place.

But Serie had hesitated.

The monster created by that Demon had a special ability to devour magic, leaving Serie with no quick way to deal with it.

Even when she finally killed it, she had done so by overdrawing her magic, continuously feeding it spells until the creature was literally burst apart from overconsumption.

If Rhode hadn't severely wounded that Demon before falling, her chances of winning would have been slim.

Even now, the magic power within Serie was nearly depleted.

For at least the next month, she wouldn't be able to use any strong spells.

"Brother Rhode has such good luck. He'll definitely come through this safe and sound too."

The Dwarf Som chimed in with comfort from the side.

Everyone could see how close Serie and Rhode were. Now that Rhode was missing, Serie's heart must be aching terribly.

Staring at the flickering campfire, Serie felt her thoughts in utter chaos.

It had only been a month since she started traveling with this human. Why was she so anxious about his disappearance?

Serie didn't quite understand her own emotions right now.

Regret and remorse intertwined.

She had already promised to protect him, to teach him how to survive in this world.

She really was a lousy partner, wasn't she?

At some point, Serie had come to see Rhode as a companion.

Perhaps just a companion.

Seeing Serie remain silent, the Dwarf Som scratched his head and looked to Kraft with his eyes, asking if he had any good ideas.

But Kraft shook his head.

He himself didn't understand why Serie valued a human so much. How could he possibly advise her?

Besides, he was still in a phase of exploring emotions himself.

The only reason he seemed more emotionally expressive than Serie was that, over the years, he had encountered many living beings and witnessed all kinds of feelings, which had influenced him in turn.

By the time the campfire died out and everyone lay down on the ground, Serie still felt no trace of sleepiness.

Gazing at the starry sky, she recalled her earlier discussion with Rhode about the stars.

The grass on the ground was a bit prickly, and after sleeping on soft blankets for so long, returning to the hard ground felt uncomfortable.

It seemed she had been well taken care of by that guy all along.

Really, I'm supposed to be the strong one here.

Without knowing why, the corner of Serie's mouth lifted slightly, and she didn't even notice it herself.

After a full day of rest, Rhode felt much better.

At least walking was no longer a problem. Moving vigorously still hurt a bit, but it was within acceptable limits.

It might also have something to do with the herbal soup Norn had given him. According to him, it was a secret recipe passed down through their village for generations, highly effective for internal injuries.

Even if you suffered very severe damage, drinking it for a week would let you get out of bed and walk, and in half a month, you'd be fully recovered.

Last night, he had even thoughtfully brought Rhode a bowl of Feather Chicken soup, complete with a large drumstick and some unknown wild greens.

The soup was delicious, neither too salty nor too bland.

Rhode also noticed some seasoning spices. It really was true that humans could invent all kinds of delicacies no matter where they were.

"It looks like your injuries are no longer a problem."

Seeing Rhode walking without issue, Norn smiled.

"Yes. What are you doing?"

Rhode noticed Norn holding a quill pen, writing something on the skin of some animal.

But the quill pen looked a bit abstract, and it felt oddly out of place.

"Assigning work." Norn raised the quill in his hand, noticing Rhode's gaze on it. "Are you curious about this? It's a Feather Chicken feather. I found it quite suitable for writing, so I've been using it."

"Rhode, don't mind this guy." Erik walked over from a distance. "Norn comes up with all sorts of tricks every day. Who knows what's rattling around in that head of his."

"At least there's a record now. If we kept arguing over food distribution like before, it'd drive everyone crazy. This way, we have a basis for it." Norn said irritably.

Rhode watched with interest as Norn held up the Hide Record.

There were marks made from a mixture of charcoal ash and plant sap, resembling ink, clearly noting the resource distribution for each household.

"Your village already has writing?" Rhode couldn't help but say.

In this primitive world, seeing such a systematic method of distribution was truly surprising.

Earlier in Som's village, he had also seen the Dwarves writing in this world's common script, but considering that the Dwarves once had a glorious kingdom, that wasn't particularly novel.

But seeing this common script in a primitive human village caught Rhode off guard.

Norn scratched his head sheepishly. "Actually, I learned it all from Mr. Kraft. He taught us many things, including writing and counting methods."

That explained it. That explained it.

Erik cut in, "But this guy Norn takes it too far. He's always tinkering with weird stuff. Last time, he tried using tree bark instead of animal hide to write on, but the ink just soaked right through."

"Ahem, I'll try drying the bark first next time."

"And it'll probably crumble at the slightest touch, right?"

Erik grinned cheekily, then turned his attention back to Rhode. "You're recovering pretty fast."

"Yeah! What, want to spar?"

"Hm, can I?"

"Of course."

Rhode swung his arm in a circle, signaling that his body was fine.

"Erik!!!" Norn shouted his friend's name in dissatisfaction. "There you go again."

Ever since the two of them had steadily improved their martial skills, no one in the village could match them.

And since Norn was often busy managing the village, he rarely had time to spar with Erik. Seeing Rhode, an outsider, he understood at once—this guy's hands were itching for a fight.