Chapter 19

The journey from Glimmerstone Town to Dragon Roar Town took about ten days on foot for ordinary people. Even adventurers on horseback needed about the same amount of time, because the villages where they could spend the night were roughly a day's walk apart. Unless they were willing to risk dying while camping near the dangerous Desolate Mountains, or push their horses hard enough to cover two days' worth of distance in one, no one could get there much faster.

Sui Xiong and Gerald weren't in a hurry. They traveled with a group of merchants, walking toward Dragon Roar Town as leisurely as if they were out for a stroll.

The evil dragon known as the Tyrant of Extreme Cold had been rampaging in the mountains near Dragon Roar Town for over fifty years. It wasn't about to move away in a hurry.

Besides, they couldn't rush things. The key to fighting the evil dragon was Sui Xiong's true body, His Majesty Oscar, the Void Mask. At the moment, Sui Xiong was in seclusion in an underground cavern near Glimmerstone Town, adjusting his body's structure to make it better suited to moving on land. Reshaping such a gigantic body was a massive undertaking, and it wouldn't be finished anytime soon. So even if they reached Dragon Roar Town early, all they could do was stay in town for a while and gather information. Gerald alone couldn't go into the mountains and challenge the dragon.

"Big Brother White, did you used to live in the mountains? Was life up there really tough?" A curious boy of about twelve or thirteen from one of the caravans traveling with them kept pestering Gerald, who was using White as an alias, with questions. It was driving him crazy.

"...Life in the mountains was more or less like that. Simple and dull. There's not much to say."

"But..."

To make traveling easier, Gerald had chosen to join the merchant company. It was made up of several caravans, which could watch out for one another when danger arose—and if the danger was too great, they could at least find someone to use as a human shield.

The merchant company was large, consisting of seven or eight caravans. Of them, they had chosen to travel with the strongest.

The caravan was called the Lucky Coin. Its head was a half-gnome named Soth. As a cross between a gnome and a human, he was a little shorter than most people. His slightly reddish, remarkably tough skin, large eyes that could see in the dark, slender and nimble body, and one or two innate spells had served him well during his adventuring days, allowing him to amass a comfortable fortune. When he grew older, he gave up adventuring, formed a caravan, and became a traveling merchant.

Uncle Soth's caravan was staffed entirely by old acquaintances of his. Interestingly, although it mainly did business with humans, not one of its members was a pure-blooded human. The boss was a half-gnome, the guards were Half-Orcs, and his two business partners were a half-elf and a dwarf. Even the employees were all of other races or of mixed heritage. For example, the one who liked chatting with Gerald was Palin, a young mage who worked as the accountant. He was a gnome—a pure-blooded gnome.

There were many races of intelligent beings in this world, and quite a few of them were built similarly to humans. Gnomes, dwarves, elves, and Orcs were among the more common.

Gnomes and dwarves were both short, about a third shorter than humans. But no one would ever confuse the two. Gnomes were an agile, intelligent race, while dwarves were strong and hardy. The former were thin and nimble, with red skin, large eyes, and long limbs; the latter were stocky, with small eyes and great beards, and spoke as loudly as ordinary people shouted.

Generally speaking, gnomes and half-gnomes often chose to become mages, or else used their innate bloodline talents to become entertainers, bards, merchants, and the like—though they often moonlighted as pickpockets, too. Dwarves, on the other hand, rarely pursued any profession besides being warriors. Some might work as miners, blacksmiths, brewers, or cooks, but they were always good warriors first. There were almost no exceptions.

Elves were about as tall as humans, but more slender. They had a strong affinity for magic and nature, and could almost cast spells from birth. However, they were poorly suited to living in unnatural environments. If they couldn't live surrounded by nature, they would gradually grow weak, fall ill, and eventually die.

For this reason, elves claimed forests and open plains as their domain. They were one of the most powerful races in the world. During several great human expansions, the two races—both with splendid histories and powerful armies—had fought fiercely. The elves, who had once conquered many races, including dwarves and gnomes, clashed with the humans, who had driven out many races, including Orcs and merfolk. Their battles were like two planets colliding: both sides were bloodied, but neither could defeat the other. In the end, they had no choice but to compromise, seek peaceful coexistence, and develop together.

Of course, the most recent great expansion had ended almost five hundred years ago. Aside from the long-lived legendary powerhouses, everyone who had fought in the wars had long since died of old age, and the old hatreds had gradually faded. Relations between elves and humans were now better than they had been in a long time. The elves admired humanity's versatile potential and abundant energy, while humans admired the elves' tranquil minds and innate talents. Over time, many children of mixed heritage were born, commonly known as half-elves.

As for the Orcs, they were an unfortunate, even pitiable race. They had several different origins, but after losing their wars against humans, they had been driven from place to place until they eventually settled together, forming a somewhat disorganized people. The Orcs' ancestors had possessed a respectable civilization, but their wars with humanity had interrupted its progress, driven them from their ancestral lands, and severed the transmission of their traditions. Gradually, they had become symbols of barbarism and backwardness.

Sadly, most Orcs had already forgotten the glory of their own civilization and chosen to adopt human or elven culture. In the present world, traditional Orc professions such as "Wilderness Warrior," "Berserker," "Bloodsoaked Swordsman," and "Soul Shaman" had become increasingly rare. Most talented Orcs became warriors or rangers, sorcerers or priests.

Perhaps this was because the professions developed and refined by humans and elves really were stronger than the ancient ones passed down among the Orcs.

The Half-Orcs in the caravan came from a tribe called Wildstone. Their leader, Ahan, was a paladin—the sort of holy cleric who had received a temple's blessing and teachings and leaned toward martial rather than magical skills. The deity he worshiped was unusual: the God of Wilderness, honored as the Steel Lion. The god had originated in the Orc Pantheon, which leaned toward evil, but had broken away with several followers and joined the good-aligned gods.

Ahan and his followers all worshiped the God of Wilderness. Their armor and shields bore the god's holy symbol: a golden lion's paw inside a shield-shaped frame. Golden divine light flickered especially brightly on Ahan's shield, a magical item blessed in a temple.

Sui Xiong had noticed the shield. The golden light that flickered across it from time to time seemed familiar. After thinking it over for a while, he realized that the glow was a lot like the one belonging to the deity who had come to his aid when he had fought Sleepless God.

To make sure, he had Gerald ask Ahan a few questions about the God of Wilderness.

The God of Wilderness was a deity who liked to travel and stand up for the wronged. He often took the form of a lion-man, a kind of Orc, carrying a shield and a battle-axe on his back, with a hammer at his waist. When he encountered an evil god wreaking havoc, he would become a golden bolt of lightning, tearing through the sky to fight evil. In terms of divine rank, he was only of middling status, but his fighting strength was extraordinary. More than once, he had driven off notorious evil gods renowned for their power. He could be counted among the very strongest of the gods.

As for this deity's teachings and the details of his faith, Sui Xiong couldn't be bothered to remember them. In any case, he was almost certain that the God of Wilderness was the one who had helped him before—and that he was a good deity.

Good. That was enough.

He was a skilled player with sharp instincts, a good leader, and he didn't steal the loot. If Sui Xiong got the chance to join him in a dungeon run, it would be great.

Of course, the god had helped him out in a fight, so Sui Xiong had to repay him.

"Gerald, if a fight breaks out, make sure to protect Ahan and the others," he said.

Gerald was puzzled. He didn't understand why the ones who needed protection weren't old Soth and the other noncombatants, who had left the adventuring life years ago and whose fighting abilities had clearly declined. Instead, he was supposed to protect Ahan, who looked like he could handle himself. But a god's command was absolute, so he said he would obey without question.

Still, Gerald was certain Ahan didn't need protection. The powerful lion-man could go toe-to-toe with a bear even without a weapon. Fully armed, he could probably handle even a wyvern.

See? The wyvern that had tried to attack them that evening had become the camp's roast meat. Duantie, Old Soth's business partner and cook, was rubbing the meat with his prized secret blend of spices and strong liquor. Some of it was nearly cooked, and its tempting aroma was drifting through the air.

After a day's journey, the merchant company made camp beside a small village. There was a large clearing with enough room for several hundred people to stay temporarily. Since it was close to the Desolate Mountains, it lay beyond the Ash Forest's sphere of influence. Green trees stood in the distance, and lush grass grew nearby. The scene was full of life, and Sui Xiong, who was accustomed to the forest's gray-and-black palette, was quite pleased.

Everyone had been busy, but when the smell of roast wyvern wafted over, almost everyone paused for a moment. More than one person even started drooling.

Old Soth's other business partner, a half-elf ranger who called herself Yunlv, was processing the materials taken from the wyvern: its sharp claws, fangs attached to its poison glands, hard scales from its chest, and tough hide.

Wyverns were vicious monsters with a broad diet, but their favorite prey was "weak, two-legged walking beasts"—in short, humans. In fact, their favorite thing was to attack herders and caravans. If there were people to eat, they would even ignore prey like cattle and sheep. They were the enemies of humanity.

On Earth, creatures that openly declared war on humanity like this would be wiped out completely, perhaps with a few survivors kept in zoos for study. But in this relatively backward and savage world, all the humanoid races, humans included, occupied less than a third of the world's land. The vast, boundless wilderness was full of similar enemies, and everyone was used to it.

Either way, they fought. If you lost, you got eaten; if you won—well, then the roles of eater and eaten were reversed!

Just like the wyvern that had lost the fight and been looted. It was now everyone's dinner.

Amid the rich aroma, Duantie laughed heartily and rang the little bell that signaled mealtime.

The bell rescued Gerald, who was being bombarded with questions by the curious Palin. He quickly brought his nearly all-hearsay account of the "giant tribe's way of life" to an end, then dragged the still-unsatisfied young Palin toward the bonfire.

Mealtime was a good excuse. At last, he could escape the ordeal of being interrogated.