Charging with an Ark Lance, but No Mount

Alina smiled. "All right, Mr. Claude. Thank you very much for your generosity."

Claude raised an eyebrow. He knew Centaurea must have told her. He had not expected the two of them to become friends in such a short time.

"Then come on, Miss. I'll help you."

As he spoke, Claude tucked the hide beneath his arm and began using his dagger to butcher the beast.

The blade pierced the joints, severed the fascia, and cut through the muscle, removing one enormous foreleg. He repeated the process and took off all four legs, while the other three helped carry the meat inside.

Then he cut open its belly and used an axe to chop through the breastbone. He removed the organs within. The beast's innards reeked, and most of them were inedible. Fortunately, there were no signs of Originium infection in its stomach. This was an exceptionally rare, healthy beast.

He cut away most of the beast's meat, leaving only a huge skeleton and a bloody head piled outside. There was too much meat for the little house to hold. Luckily, the weather here was freezing. Leaving the meat outside meant they only had to worry about beasts coming to gnaw on it, not spoilage.

Just as Claude was wondering where to store all the meat, a commotion in the distance drew his attention.

Several dark figures approached from afar, moving quickly as if in a great hurry. It did not take them long; ten minutes later, they had entered the village.

At their head was a young woman in a neatly tailored military uniform, with short gray-white hair. A greatsword utterly disproportionate to her height hung at her waist. Twisted sharp horns grew from her head, and a long scaled tail trailed behind her.

Claude stood and watched the group approach. The beautiful young woman at the front carefully sized him up with bright eyes.

"Sir, what business do you have here?"

Claude looked at the people who had subtly surrounded him. Their equipment was poor, their clothes shabby, and they were wrapped up tightly enough that not even their hands were exposed.

They have at least some basic combat awareness.

Only after silently appraising them did Claude answer, "That thing is my prey. Our vehicle broke down, and we chased it here."

"By that thing, do you mean this?" Talulah had long noticed the enormous beast beside them. Though only a skeleton and a blood-soaked head remained, she could still tell it had been a powerful creature.

"I've never seen anything like it around here."

"Talulah!" A crisp voice called from nearby. Alina had emerged at some point, her face full of joy.

"Alina! Are you all right?" The moment Talulah saw Alina, she rushed past Claude and grabbed her hands.

"I'm fine, Talulah. Thanks to Mr. Claude and his companion, we were saved."

Hearing that, Talulah turned to Claude. "Thank you so much, Mr. Claude. You and your companion helped us tremendously." As she spoke, she bowed deeply to him.

"No, you don't need to be so polite. That thing was originally after us. We injured it, which was why it charged this way. If anything, we were the ones who dragged you into this."

"No, that's not true," Alina said firmly.

"If it hadn't been for that beast, we would have been taken away by the patrol. And if it hadn't been for you, Sir Knight, that beast would have killed us too."

"Then I'll accept your thanks, Miss Alina and Miss Talulah." Claude was not one for empty modesty.

After that, Claude and Centaurea got along well with them and quickly became familiar.

Claude raised his wood-splitting axe with both hands and brought it down viciously on the beast's head. Once, twice. Soon, he split open the skull and took out the beast's brain.

Beside him stood a frame he had made from small tree trunks, with the hide stretched taut over it. Earlier, he had scraped away the remaining fat and flesh with a knife. Next, he planned to use the brain in his hands to tan the hide.

He had learned this method from a colonel in the Third Imperial Legion. Before becoming an Iron Guard of the Third Imperial Legion, the man had been a hunter. He told Claude that without better chemicals, this was the simplest method of tanning fur. The resulting hide was serviceable, though not as soft as one made through more refined methods.

The process naturally smelled awful, and the pungent stench drove everyone else far away. After more than an hour of work, he finally finished treating the hide. Then he washed his hands clean with snow before walking over to the campfire.

Meat was already roasting over the fire. They had simply skewered it on sticks and held it over the flames. There were no seasonings, of course. If Claude had not hunted this beast, they would rarely have had meat at all.

Their grilling skills were not much better, either. Some pieces had been burned black. Talulah and Centaurea sat beside the fire in silence, seemingly unsure what to say. Alina sat between them, wanting to speak but not knowing how to begin.

Claude looked around and suddenly seemed to spot something. He went into the woods behind the village and took a stone slab from a pile of rocks. Then he walked to their off-road vehicle, opened the door, rummaged around inside for a while, and found a packet of basic seasonings.

"How can a successful hunt be so gloomy? And what you're eating is far too poor." As he spoke, Claude set the stone slab over the fire. He had already cleaned it with snow earlier.

"Oh, Mr. Claude, you can cook?" Talulah looked surprised. In her understanding, elite knights like Claude should have servants to prepare their meals while they only needed to concern themselves with war. She had assumed Centaurea was the one who cooked for him.

"When you're at war, you need to know how to do everything. Once the fighting starts, no one has time to take care of you."

Claude waited until the stone slab heated up. Then he took the fat stripped from the beast and laid it on the slab, letting the heat render it into oil.

Once grease covered the whole slab, he separated the beast's ribs one by one, scored them with a knife, and seasoned them. Smoke had already begun to rise from the stone slab, and he placed the marinated ribs on it.

"Sizzle..."

The sound from the stone slab was unmistakable. It seemed to possess some kind of magic; those who had been hanging their heads could not help looking up at it. Their low spirits began to lift as well.

"Add firewood. Make the fire stronger," Claude told an Infected beside him.

The Infected seemed surprised that Claude had spoken to him, but he still instinctively followed the instruction and added wood to the fire.

The ribs crackled as they fried, their fat bubbling on the surface. An enticing aroma slowly spread through the air, making everyone around them swallow. Once one side was done, Claude flipped them over. The meat changed from bright red to a beautiful golden brown, undergoing a wonderful Maillard reaction.

"Come on, everyone. Have a taste," Claude called once they were done.

Their teeth tore into the tender, crisp meat. Because it had been seared at high heat, most of the moisture inside had not yet escaped. With a bite, delicious juices spilled into their mouths. As they tasted the savory roasted meat, everyone's gloomy mood gradually improved.

"Mr. Claude, I'm still very curious about you. What exactly are you doing here? There's nothing here except snow, Originium mines, and Infected..." Talulah asked Claude.

Claude tore at the meat in his hand and thought for a moment. "I don't know yet. I don't know what I want to do, but I came here to prepare."

"Prepare?"

"That's right. I believe that one day, I'll find what I want to do. But before then, I need enough strength."

"Do you want to temper yourself through this harsh natural environment?"

"To some extent. But mainly, my Arts have certain special requirements."

"And what about you, Miss Talulah? Your uniform stands out completely from the people here. You should belong to the Ursus authorities, so why are you with the Infected?" As Claude spoke, he could not help glancing at her bare thighs.

Young people really do run hot.

In this frozen wasteland, clothes like that were impossible not to notice.

Talulah hesitated.

"Is it hard to say?"

"No, there's nothing I can't say." Talulah's expression suddenly hardened with resolve, and her eyes seemed to shine.

"I escaped from my adoptive father. He was a vile, despicable man who kept trying to instill a terrible ideology in me."

"So you're doing this to oppose your father?"

"No. I'm doing this to prove my ideals. I believe the Infected are not born lowly. They should not be treated this way, so I came to help them. I came to help them survive. Whoever tries to stop us is our enemy."

"And I will never accept my adoptive father's poisonous beliefs. I will not accept what he said about people living on hatred."

Claude held a leftover bone in his hand and lightly tapped it against the stone slab. His sharp brows furrowed slightly, as though he were considering something.

"Allow me one more question, Miss. What is your ultimate goal? Do you want to lead the Infected away? Or seize a piece of land where they can live? Or make others stop discriminating against them and allow them to live as equals?"

"Of course, I want to build a world where the Infected can live alongside ordinary people."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"By uniting all the Infected, leading them into battle, and fighting for land where we can live."

"Miss, are you stronger than the Ursus Empire?"

"Of course we are weak now. But as long as the oppressed Infected unite, one day we will achieve final victory..."

"No, no, no. You misunderstand me, Miss. I mean, since you are not stronger than the Ursus Empire, why abandon forces that can be won over?"

"Forces that can be won over?"

"The civilians of Ursus, of course. Why not seek their support? Aren't they oppressed by this empire too?"

"But Ursus civilians discriminate against the Infected. How can we possibly seek their support?"

"Is that really so? Why do they discriminate against the Infected? Who made them discriminate against the Infected?"

"Of course it was..." Talulah suddenly froze.

"It seems you understand as well. Ursus civilians are exploited just like you. As far as I know, unless there is close contact, infection is not an issue. Even if severely infected people can spread it widely under certain conditions, as long as the Infected are isolated, there is no absolute conflict between you and ordinary people. After all, ordinary people in this world also have a high chance of becoming Infected."

"So the suffering endured by you and the suffering endured by civilians are not, in the end, caused by one another. They are caused by those emperors, nobles, and bureaucrats who sit high above everyone else. To stop you from resisting them, they tell you that your suffering is caused by the other side. They make you hate and persecute each other, all to preserve their power."

"So, Miss Talulah, please tell me: if you wish to resist all this injustice, why would you, as the weaker side, abandon the civilians who are oppressed just like you? Why abandon such a powerful force? If you are the weaker side and wish to fulfill your goals, shouldn't you unite every force that can be united?"

Talulah listened in stunned silence.

"So." Claude rose to his feet, his armor scraping as it moved. "Miss Talulah, recognize your true enemies. Understand who your true friends are."

"What you want to do is a great cause—a cause against oppression and injustice. But it is also an extremely dangerous cause. One wrong step, and you will be shattered to pieces. So unite every force you can unite. Make your comrades and friends more numerous. Only then will you have a chance of success. Do not be stubborn. Do not be narrow-minded."

"Of course, even if some of your ideas are naive, you are still an admirable person. While others dared not act, you had already begun to resist bravely." Claude smiled faintly. "But you are not enough yet. You still need to learn and think. Only then can you truly forge a path of your own."

Talulah's shocked expression slowly eased. She looked at Claude and asked, "Mr. Claude, who exactly are you?"

Claude walked toward his off-road vehicle and waved behind him. "Just a knight. Go get some sleep."

As he walked, Claude thought of his former emperor. Though that emperor ruled everything and controlled everything, no one in the entire empire hated him. His decisions were always right, and time always proved it. He had no desires for himself, no indulgences. He had not even taken a wife. Yet the imperial palace where he lived, that resplendent golden palace, was the unquestioned center of the empire.

Even Claude, who had once been a modern man, could find no fault with that emperor. He had fulfilled every duty perfectly. Before him, humanity had merely been a pitiful race oppressed, preyed upon, and abused. After him, humanity occupied the most fertile regions of the entire continent.

Beastman heads were piled into mountains in the north, while elven corpses hung like forests in the south. Goblins and dwarves knelt and bowed before his throne. Of course, if that were all he had accomplished, it would only mean he was skilled at war. But what Claude truly admired was that he ensured no one in the empire went hungry, and every imperial citizen enjoyed the benefits gained through war. Even judged by the harshest standards, he could be called a saint.

That emperor had been so perfect that he scarcely seemed human. Claude had once suspected him, wondering whether he might be a machine or some kind of AI. But later, he abandoned those doubts, because he understood that it did not matter whether the emperor was a machine or AI.

Comparing him to the current emperor of Ursus left Claude deeply moved. He did not know what the Ursus emperor was doing now, but he knew that this empire had contracted a grave disease, a malignant sickness rooted deep in its bones. It was racing headlong down the road to self-destruction.

Claude and Centaurea remained in the village for several days. The remaining meat from the beast was given to the villagers, and the hide was finally finished.

During those days, Talulah, Alina, and the others stayed in the village as well. Talulah in particular seemed to be constantly thinking, frequently lost in thought.

Claude, meanwhile, had a problem. He had an excellent hide, warm and soft, but lacked the skill to turn it into a cloak. When he considered making do and trying it himself, Alina discovered him. She volunteered to take the hide and cut and sew it for him.

"Wait, use this as the lining." Claude called out to Alina as she was about to leave, handing her a roll of red silk.

"Boss, you didn't buy that back then just for this day, did you?" Centaurea looked at him with helplessness in her eyes.

"Of course! I planned ahead." Claude answered with a hint of smugness.

Talulah had been absent-minded these past few days. She barely ate, did nothing else, and simply sat in her room staring into space. Before hearing Claude's words, she had held a rather pessimistic view of her future. She knew the Infected could not defeat Ursus's powerful military, but she wanted to open a path for those who came after. She wanted to kindle the flame of resistance for future Infected.

In her eyes, even if they failed, later Infected would follow their example and bravely resist oppression. But she had always been pessimistic about her own future, carrying within her the bleakness of a martyr. Patriot and FrostNova, who also belonged to the Reunion Movement, strongly opposed her strategy of moving south. In their view, heading south now was suicide, and would reduce their newly developed organization to nothing.

The reason she had tried to use to convince them was that the southern cities had more Infected. They could unite more forces there and raise the banner of resistance across Terra.

Before this, she had never considered that possibility. She had never thought that she could mobilize the civilians of the Ursus Empire, that Ursus civilians could join them. If that happened, they would gain an inexhaustible reserve of strength.

Why could Mr. Claude, who looked as young as she was, think of this? Why did he understand so much?

As Talulah pondered this, she abruptly stood, startling Alina, who was doing needlework beside her.

Alina sucked on the finger pricked by her needle. "What's wrong, Talulah?"

"I need to ask Mr. Claude and have him explain it to me." Talulah rushed outside as she spoke. By the time her words reached Alina, she was already far away.

"Mr. Claude! Please teach me."

Claude looked at the young woman who had suddenly burst into the room. He understood. It was about time she came looking for him.

"Please sit, Talulah. Sit down and catch your breath."

Only after Talulah's excitement subsided did Claude prepare to speak.

As a modern transmigrator, he had initially wanted to make a name for himself in the first world. But the existence of that emperor had left all the ideas in his head with no use at all. This world, however, possessed highly advanced technology in some respects, while its political systems seemed utterly chaotic and inferior to him.

Now that he had met Talulah, he truly had some things he wanted to say to this idealistic young woman.

So Claude spoke with Talulah for a long time, telling her some of the things he had known in the past.

He explained concepts like productive forces, means of production, and militaristic systems. Claude did not know how far this young woman could go, but he still hoped to bring something different to this despairing land.

Their conversation lasted a long time. Even after night fell, the two were still talking. Neither showed the slightest fatigue. Talulah kept asking questions with an excited expression, and Claude answered each one.

Then came two knocks at the door. Alina pushed it open and entered, holding a thick cloak in her arms. She looked at the two of them with a gentle smile.

"I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Claude, I've finished sewing your cloak."

"Not at all, Miss Alina. Thank you very much." A smile rose unbidden to Claude's lips as he stood and walked toward Alina.

"And this, Mr. Claude. There was a lot of fur and silk left over." Alina tried to hand Claude the remaining half of the hide and half a roll of silk from her arms.