How to Honor The Goddess

༺ 𓆩 Chapter 13 𓆪 ༻

「Translator — Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠃

Following the faint traces of soul arts, the group continued downstream along the river.

Occasionally, they spotted clawed footprints pressed into the dirt, or scattered streaks of dried blood.

A crushed corpse of a forest man, mangled into the earth, heightened the tension as they moved.

Something had definitely occurred here, something recent.

Meanwhile, above the canyon, Hunbish’s sharp eyes kept catching glimpses of forestmen moving along the ridgeline.

“This… this is starting to look like an encirclement.”

“They’re impulsive creatures, driven by instinct,” Davitte said. “But they do have a chain of command. They’re used to operating in packs.”

Some among the forest men had surely noticed the three riders moving below.

And if they were indeed trying to surround them, then by the time the group realized it, it might already be too late to escape.

Hunbish began mapping out every carved path in the canyon he could see, planning in his mind a potential route for retreat.

“Slow down. Forest men up ahead,” Norman warned.

The group reduced their pace.

Roughly a hundred meters ahead, four forestmen stood with their backs turned, snarling savagely toward something beyond the canyon wall but hesitating, unwilling to approach.

“It looks like they’re in a standoff with something, but we can’t see what from here.”

“Could it be the one you’ve been looking for?” Hunbish asked.

“Possibly…”

Hunbish glanced around. Other than those four, there didn’t appear to be any immediate threats.

“Let’s take them out.”

He drew his bow and nocked an arrow.

Schring—!!!

Norman, too, unsheathed the greatsword slung across his saddle.

Then, as Hunbish loosed his first arrow, Norman spurred his horse forward.

The first arrow buried itself in one creature’s head.

The second pierced another’s shoulder.

As Norman closed the distance, his greatsword came down in a sweeping arc, cleaving the third clean in half.

The forestmen at the front recoiled and turned in terror — only to be met by the gaping maw of a monstrous beast that lunged from behind the canyon wall.

“Kreeeegh!”

“Kyaaaagh!”

The one hit in the shoulder screamed, a piercing shriek echoing through the canyon.

Norman quickly finished him off, severing his head in a single stroke but the cry had already rung out, reverberating off the stone walls.

The canyon stirred with activity in an instant.

“Damn it!”

Before Norman could even catch his breath, a massive jaw came crashing toward him. He blocked it with his greatsword, but the sheer force knocked him from his horse.

He hit the ground hard, tumbling over dirt and stone.

“Urgh!”

“Mr. Norman!”

Hunbish and Davitte rushed toward him.

But standing in their way was a monstrous beast.

A wolf, massive enough to stand eye-level with Hunbish atop his saddle, glared at them with burning golden eyes.

The creature’s body was so soaked in blood that its original blue fur had faded to a murky crimson.

“A… blue wolf?”

Hunbish blinked in disbelief, questioning whether his eyes had deceived him.

The blue wolf in his memory had carried an air of divinity, a presence almost sacred.

But the beast before him now was nothing more than a bloodied, wounded animal, cornered and baring its fangs.

“Davitte! Is that the lycanthrope you spoke of?!”

“No! A lycanthrope walks on two legs like a human, even if they take on wolfish features! And they’re never that big!”

Grrrrr…!!!

The beast spat Norman’s greatsword from its jaws, letting it clang to the ground, then lunged toward Norman’s fallen form.

But Hunbish hurled a short spear into its path, forcing it to halt just short of impact.

The creature hesitated, and in that moment, the corpses of the forest men began to rise, one by one, standing between the beast and its target.

“…Looks like that really is the blue wolf you remembered,” Davitte said.

While Hunbish pulled Norman back to his feet, Davitte caught sight of something just beyond the beast.

Vincent.

His right arm had been torn off. A gaping hole marred his chest.

But the face, the face from the portrait — they were one and the same.

He was already dead.

“…Looks like the lycanthrope got to him first.”

Davitte’s voice fell with fatigue and disappointment.

After braving such treacherous lands, to finally find their quarry already lifeless—

Boom—!!!!

The massive blue wolf swatted away the reanimated forestmen with its huge forepaws and fangs, reducing them to shattered bones and mangled torsos.

Having lost its master, wounded and frenzied, the beast turned its golden gaze toward the three humans surrounding it.

Grrrrr…!!!

“It’s out of its mind! I’ll hold it off — run while you still can!”

Norman, panting heavily, picked up his sword and stepped forward to confront the beast.

“Don’t approach it!”

Davitte’s voice rang out sharply as Norman advanced.

“…?”

“That wolf is guarding its master. As long as we don’t get closer, it won’t attack.”

Norman paused, then slowly began backing away.

Sure enough, the wolf didn’t move.

“Is there any way to calm it down?!” Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on noᴠelfire.net

“…Not right now. We have no way.”

“If we leave it here like this, it’ll be surrounded and killed for sure!”

Davitte’s thoughts were a storm.

Vincent was dead and the only thing left behind was a maddened familiar.

All around the canyon, the forestmen were tightening their encirclement.

The situation was rapidly deteriorating.

Hunbish hesitated, torn between two dire options: abandon everything and flee while they still could, or cling to the sliver of hope and try to save the wolf — perhaps to turn the tide later.

“It might be best to retreat before we get ourselves killed,” Norman muttered.

“I’ll lure the wolf out of the canyon,” Hunbish offered.

Davitte turned sharply to him, shaking his head.

“That won’t work. That wolf won’t leave its master’s side.”

“Which is why I’ll mount the corpse on my horse and ride. If I take its master with me, it will follow, won’t it?”

“How are you even planning to get the body, with that wolf guarding it like a sentinel?”

Hunbish met his eyes, resolute.

“I have a plan. Norman, I need you to listen closely.”

The plan was simple, but dangerous.

Norman would charge the wolf and bind its limbs, creating a brief opening.

During that window, Davitte would move Vincent’s corpse away, and Hunbish would lift it onto a horse and escape with it.

“If it fails, the wolf will turn on me. In that case, don’t look back. Ride downstream. The autumn drought dried up the river — it should have opened a way into the plains.”

Davitte glanced uneasily at Norman.

“Can you do it?”

“For just a moment… yes.”

“…Alright. Let’s give it a try.”

Norman drew his greatsword, took a deep breath, and charged.

“Hyaaaah!”

With a cry, he slammed the flat of his blade against the beast’s head.

In that brief instant, Hunbish circled around and sprinted toward Vincent’s body.

But the corpse didn’t move.

“What… why isn’t it—?!”

“Hunbish, it’s no good! The wolf is interfering! It’s disrupting my soul arts!”

“I can’t hold much longer! Get out of here!”

As Norman staggered back from the wolf’s swiping paw, the beast’s golden eyes locked onto Hunbish.

Its gaze hit him like a hammer blow, his limbs froze, his knees quivered, and terror coiled around his spine.

“……!”

Grrrrrr…!!!

He had missed his moment to flee. Desperate, Hunbish reached for his curved blade, gripping it like a drowning man clutching reeds.

But then, the wolf suddenly shuddered — its breath hitching, its ferocity faltering.

Wrinkles creased its snout and around its eyes.

“…Who are you?”

“…What?”

From the maw of the beast came words — human speech, garbled, strained, but unmistakable to Hunbish’s ears.

“…Who are you people…”

“You’re… speaking…”

But before the wolf could finish, its eyes glazed over.

It collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

And then—

A small figure leapt onto its head.

An old dwarf, with half his face hidden by a flowing white beard, black eyes gleaming from under bushy brows and a bright red nose like a ripe berry, shouted furiously:

“Running around biting everything in sight — have you completely lost your damn mind?!”

“…A fairy?”

Hunbish blinked in shock.

The dwarf snapped his gaze at him and barked,

“When someone saves your life, shouldn’t the first thing out of your mouth be ‘thank you’?”

“Ah… yes. Thank you for saving me.”

Still dazed, Hunbish gave the dwarf a respectful bow.

“Well, alright. Lucky for you, I’ve got a generous heart, so I’ll let it slide just this once.”

"By any chance, do you know this wolf, elder?"

“Know him? Of course I do! I’ve known everything about that hole-ridden fool since the day he dragged himself into this canyon — what he’s eaten, where he’s slept, everything!”

With every word, the dwarf’s bushy moustache twitched with animated indignation.

Moments later, Norman and Davitte approached Hunbish cautiously, wary of the scene unfolding before them.

“What in the world is happening here?”

“This gentleman subdued the wolf.”

“That’s… an earth fairy? …I think?”

“…Probably.”

The dwarf hopped off the unconscious wolf and twirled his thick oak staff with a flourish. As he did, the wolf’s massive body began to dissolve into mist.

When the smoke finally cleared, what remained was a much smaller form — barely half the original size.

“What good is being big, huh? All that muscle, and the pup still ended up dragging around his dead master’s body like a scared whelp and even botched that, got himself caught.”

The dwarf clicked his tongue, looking down at the battered wolf with a mix of pity and exasperation.

Kreeegh—!!! Kyahhh—!!!

“...............!”

The signature, screeching cry of the forestmen split the air, and Hunbish quickly looked up.

They were everywhere — swarming down the canyon walls, moving along the ridgeline, and closing in from both ends of the canyon.

“We’re surrounded!”

“We must’ve taken too long.”

“There’s no choice now. We’ll have to break through!”

Trapped in the canyon, the three humans drew their weapons and braced themselves for battle.

“You lot need to learn your place!” the dwarf barked suddenly, voice booming. “That wolf you’re dragging around carries a soul of power! If it wakes up now, it’ll tear you to shreds! You’re already dead and don’t even know it!”

The trio, who had just steeled themselves for a last stand, turned to stare at the old dwarf in shock.

“Wait… are you saying there’s another way out of here?”

“Who do you think carved out these canyons in the first place? I know every damn stone in this place. Just follow me!”

With a confident gait, the dwarf marched to a nondescript corner of the canyon wall.

“Old man, that’s a dead end!”

“Bah! I may be old, but I’m not senile!”

With a sharp tap of his staff against the ground, the wall shimmered like a mirage — then vanished, revealing a hidden path wide enough for horses.

“Don’t leave that wolf behind! He may look half-dead, but he’s still alive and he talks, too. Knows a lot, that one. Could be useful. As for the corpse? Leave it.”

“That wolf can… speak?” Davitte echoed, eyes widening in surprise as he looked down at the unconscious beast.

A wolf that could speak human language — and wield soul arts.

Vincent’s research hadn’t been lost after all.

If that wolf had inherited his knowledge…

Davitte felt hope bloom in his chest once more.

“This is good news. We must take the wolf with us.”

“We should bring Vincent’s body too,” Hunbish said. “He deserves a proper burial.”

Hunbish approached the unconscious wolf and carefully hoisted it onto his horse.

“I’ll take responsibility for the wolf.”

“Then I’ll carry Vincent,” Davitte replied. “Norman, lighten your load in case we need to move fast.”

Norman gave a silent nod of understanding.

“Move along already! At this rate, the sun’ll rise before we’re out of here!”

With the wolf strapped to Hunbish’s horse and Vincent’s body secured on Davitte’s, the three riders followed the dwarf down the secret path through the canyon.

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