Serie's Self-Reproach

Rather than heading straight to the Human Race village, the group followed the river in search of Rhode.

Yet after searching all day, they found nothing.

By nightfall, they had set up a temporary camp and lit a bonfire.

They did not need to worry about Monster attacks here, and ordinary beasts posed even less of a threat to them.

"Don't worry. Tomorrow, we'll go to that Human Race village. Maybe Rhode already got there ahead of us."

Seeing Serie's pale little face, Kraft comforted her.

Her complexion clearly showed the aftereffects of overusing her magic power. Moreover, he had learned earlier that Serie had killed both that Demon Race member and all the Monsters under its command.

Serie had likely paid a considerable price as well.

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

They should never have been driven into such a miserable retreat by that Monster.

But Serie had hesitated.

The creature created by that Demon Race member possessed the special ability to devour magic, and Serie had had no way to finish it off quickly.

Even when she finally dealt with it, she had only done so by overdrawing her magic power and continuously casting spells for it to devour until the creature was literally bloated to the point of bursting.

If Rhode had not severely wounded that Demon Race member before falling, her chances of defeating it would have been minuscule.

Even now, Serie's magic power was nearly depleted.

For at least the next month, she would be unable to use any particularly powerful magic.

"Brother Rhode's always been so lucky. This time, he'll definitely be safe too."

The Dwarf, Som, also spoke up to comfort her.

Everyone had seen how close Serie and Rhode were. Now that Rhode was missing, Serie was surely feeling awful.

As she watched the flickering bonfire, Serie felt her thoughts becoming a complete mess.

She had only traveled with that Human for one month. Why was she so anxious over his disappearance?

Serie could not understand her current feelings.

Regret and self-reproach tangled together.

She had clearly promised to protect him and teach him how to survive in this world.

She really was an incompetent companion.

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

Seemingly only as a companion.

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

But Kraft shook his head.

He did not even understand why Serie cared so much about a Human, so how could he console her?

Besides, he himself was still in the stage of exploring emotions.

The only reason he appeared to have richer emotions than Serie was that he had encountered more living beings over the years, witnessed all kinds of feelings, and been influenced by them.

Even after the bonfire had gone out and everyone lay down on the ground, Serie still felt no sleepiness.

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

The grass beneath her was somewhat prickly, and after sleeping on soft blankets for so long, returning to the ground made her feel strangely uncomfortable.

It seemed that guy had always taken good care of her.

Honestly, I'm supposed to be the stronger one.

For some reason, the corners of Serie's lips lifted slightly, though even she did not notice it.

After resting for an entire day, Rhode felt much better.

At the very least, walking was no longer a problem. Vigorous movement still hurt a little, but it remained within an acceptable range.

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

Even if someone suffered extremely severe injuries, they would be able to get out of bed and walk after drinking it continuously for a week, and recover completely after half a month.

The previous night, Norn had thoughtfully brought him a bowl of feather chicken soup, containing a large drumstick and some unknown wild vegetables.

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

Rhode had also noticed some seasoning spices. Humans truly deserved credit—they could invent all kinds of delicious food no matter where they were.

"Looks like your injuries are no longer a serious problem."

Seeing that Rhode could walk without issue, Norn smiled.

"Yes. What are you doing?"

Rhode saw Norn holding a feather quill and writing something on the hide of some animal.

Still, the feather quill looked rather out of place and gave him a strange sense of dissonance.

"I'm assigning work." Norn raised the feather quill in his hand after noticing Rhode's gaze on it. "Are you curious about this? It's a feather chicken feather. I found that it seems well-suited for writing, so I started using it."

"Rhode, don't mind this guy." Erik walked over from the distance. "Norn comes up with all sorts of strange ideas every day. Who knows what he keeps in that head of his?"

"There still has to be some record. If everyone kept arguing endlessly over food distribution like before, it'd be enough to give anyone a headache. At least this gives us something to go by," Norn said irritably.

Rhode looked with interest at the Hide Record in Norn's hands.

The marks, made from a mixture of charcoal ash and plant juice resembling ink, clearly recorded the supplies allocated to every household.

"Your village already has writing?" Rhode could not help asking.

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 language. But considering that the Dwarves had once possessed glorious kingdoms, it did not seem all that unusual.

Yet seeing this common script in a Human village from such a primitive society caught Rhode completely off guard.

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

That explained it. That explained it.

Erik interjected, "But Norn is even more outrageous. He spends all day pondering weird and unusual things. Last time, he even tried using tree bark instead of animal hide to write on, but in the end, all the writing seeped right into the bark."

"Ahem. Next time, I'll try drying the bark first before writing on it."

"Wouldn't it crumble apart at the slightest touch?"

Erik replied with a cheeky grin, then turned his attention back to Rhode. "You recovered pretty quickly."

"Yeah! What, want to spar?"

"Mm, can we?"

"Of course."

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

"Erik!!!" Norn shouted his close friend's name in dissatisfaction. "You're at it again."

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

And since Norn was often busy managing the village and rarely sparred with Erik, the moment Erik saw Rhode, who had come from outside, Norn knew that the guy's hands were itching for a fight.