Chapter 143
Chapter 143. The Return Journey - A Faint Hope
We left the spot, wary of the Tepa Turtle's return.
Before departure, I made the child drink potions for fatigue recovery and blood replenishment.
While hunger couldn't be helped, exhaustion and blood loss were manageable.
We used two bottles, but if they didn't wake up, we couldn't even talk.
Bathing in the dark sunset, we advanced along the road.
Then, slightly venturing into the grasslands, we found a thick tree and decided to camp there.
Approaching cautiously while keeping an eye out for the Tepa Turtle, we unloaded our baggage at its roots.
While everyone prepared camp, I avoided the roots and cast [Earth Wall] into the ground.
The stone walls and roots should make it difficult for the Tepa Turtle to approach. I didn't have time to [Appraise] it, but it likely possessed earth magic or a similar skill. Otherwise, it couldn't move underground so swiftly or drag Kuckle down.
Just as I finished setting the stone walls and turned to leave, the beastkin child came into view.
Perhaps for caution's sake, they were placed to sleep away from our bedding.
Despite being covered in thick fur, their slender frame was visible.
Their androgynous features made their gender unclear, but after making an educated guess and confirming with Umber, we learned they were a boy.
Maintaining composure, I inwardly sighed in relief—this had only just happened.
Come to think of it, where exactly lies beyond the Furenas Mountains?
I gazed up at the dark ridgeline silhouetted against the starlight.
Though we were heading southeast, we'd walked quite far.
We must have passed not just Selen territory but Verene Village as well.
I promised to stop by on the way back—I've done Tes wrong.
Maybe I should've written a letter before leaving.
Once we return to Reedwald, I'll send an apology letter and discuss trade with Father.
If I appeal to profits, Father and Brother would likely agree... but Mother would probably oppose.
Well, I understand her concern.
Half a month ago, I felt the Empire's unrest all too keenly.
"Alter-sama, dinner is ready."
Sekies's words snapped me back to reality.
Facing the campfire, I sat beside the others and accepted the meal.
Either way, I want to check on Ted and the others, and see Markant and Valerie too.
The trade deal is decided.
If persuasion proves difficult, maybe I'll disclose my status to Mother.
I'll ask Roland too. Comparing me to the Knight Captain might help her understand.
She was raised as a sheltered young lady with no combat experience.
After dinner, we turned in early. At midnight, Balner and Verrot woke me.
It seemed my watch shift had come.
The time was between 2 and 3 AM—aside from the cold, it was the easiest shift after dawn.
Stretching toward the clear grassland sky, I received reports from Balner and the others by the campfire.
"A herd of animals passed on the far side of the road. We also spotted what looked like Kuckle in the distance, but neither approached."
"The Tepa Turtle seems fine too. We'll leave the next watch to you."
"Understood."
The two bowed, then Verrot suddenly lowered his voice.
"And—they seem to be awake."
Following Verrot's gaze, I looked toward the boy.
His thin back illuminated by the firelight.
He'd been lying on his back earlier—apparently recovered enough to roll over.
Noticing his pointed ears twitching as if probing, I nodded silently.
The two bowed and slipped under their blankets.
As I fed the fire, I pondered briefly before pulling a small pot from my magic bag, Telpas Bag.
I filled it with [Pure Water] and placed it over the flames.
Then added dried vegetables, fruit, a bit of wheat, leftover Meluga scraps, and chopped jerky.
After simmering, I seasoned with salt and tasted it.
Decent—for me, a success.
As I set the pot aside and turned, the boy's ears twitched more vigorously than before.
Seems he reacted to the smell—but his ears too?
Beastkin are fascinating.
Incidentally, beastkin ears aren't atop their heads but in the same position as humans'.
Their ear shape, fur presence, and build vary by species.
Some are hard to distinguish, but most can be identified by facial features—
just like regional or ethnic traits in my past life.
From his aura and traits, I'd guess this boy is a wolf or dog beastkin.
If examined, his fangs and claws likely differ from humans'.
But regardless—best he eats before it cools.
"You can keep pretending to sleep, but won't you wake up soon?"
At my words, the boy flinched.
He shifted slightly and turned a tense gaze my way.
"You must be hungry."
As I ladled soup onto a wooden plate, his eyes followed it.
When he didn't approach, I stepped forward and held it out.
"This...?"
"Your meal. I'd appreciate you eating it. Wasting food would be a shame. Ah, no guarantees on taste."
Handing him the plate and a spoon, I urged him to eat when he hesitated.
Finally, he took a bite—then widened his eyes and began eating earnestly.
Between bites, he'd glance up fearfully, but I kept encouraging him.
After several repetitions, his wary demeanor faded.
Seeing he wanted more, I gave seconds. Meanwhile, I set warm water before him and brewed general's tea for myself.
As I savored the pleasant bitterness, he—now full—began sipping the water to warm his hands.
Time for the main topic.
"I'm Alter. And you?"
"Yu... Yunek."
Though shrinking back, the enslaved boy—Yunek—answered.
As per [Appraise], he didn't give a false name.
"Then, Yunek. Why were you collapsed in the grasslands?"
"Um... I was hungry, and my legs hurt..."
Right after collapsing—his answer matched the question.
When I asked for a proper account, he frantically nodded and struggled to recall.
Though somewhat disjointed, nothing unexpected emerged—he was indeed a runaway slave.
Freed during transport by another beastkin slave in the same cart.
His origin and destination were unclear, as was the other slave's identity.
Whether out of pity or other motives, Yunek didn't ask, and the other didn't explain.
Only told to "head south" when released.
Slipping past guards at night on the other's signal, he fled the camp.
Afterward, he wandered south until finding himself near us—unconscious.
I pressed with more questions:
Where south? Who owned him? How long had he wandered? Any special training?
But all answers were vague.
"South" was all he knew—no means to navigate.
Uncertain if sold, he lost track of days from sleeping when tired.
When asked about training, he didn't even understand the term.
Only new details: born a slave, father unknown, enslaved mother died years prior.
"Do you understand your own abilities?"
At his head tilt, I rephrased.
Turns out Yunek couldn't read letters or numbers.
He could see his status but comprehended none of it.
By morning, the others would demand he reveal it.
Might as well now.
I taught him how—just focus on the target and will it.
That said, even parents rarely make their children disclose statuses.
Even if some stats are above average, most soon hit limits.
The crucial factor—growth potential—isn't shown, leaving their future unknown.
In fact, my own father never asked to see mine.
As Yunek concentrated, his status appeared.
Cross-checking with [Appraise], everything matched.
[Status Forgery] is possible, but he'd likely fake a more peaceful skill set.
At least he lacked [Stealth].
To Yunek's anxious peek, I smiled gratefully.
Once his status vanished, I reviewed the information.
Meeting a runaway slave in vast grasslands.
Unlikely, but not impossible.
Yunek was near the road—a high-traffic area.
But was he truly a runaway?
Suspicious, yet lacking conclusive evidence.
Everyone has their circumstances.
Even Trigott, whom we met yesterday, must have his own drama.
Ultimately, it's just a matter of what surfaces.
Also, the Brave Warriors failing to find Yunek isn't too odd.
Most runaways have destinations, but Yunek had none—not even knowing south.
He likely wandered blindly, maybe even circling.
With [Stealth 3], his light weight left few traces, and his weakness masked his presence.
All unfavorable conditions for searchers.
Of course, this could all be an elaborate act—but if so, it's nonsensical.
What's hidden? What lies told?
Less inconsistent than outright chaotic.
Glancing over, Yunek was drowsy.
Perhaps from a full stomach.
Doubt I'll get more info now.
I instructed Yunek to sleep.
After watching him burrow into the fur, I turned back to the fire.
◇◇◇◇
After Yunek slept again, my shift ended, and I woke Lambert and Felix.
When I relayed the conversation, Lambert said, "I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts," and left it at that.
I handed over watch and slept, waking at dawn.
Sekies and the others were already up.
Some were preparing, others stretching while eyeing the sky.
Yunek still slept.
After quickly readying myself, I sat by the fire.
Over breakfast, I recounted yesterday's exchange.
Finishing, Lambert spoke.
"Many questions remain, but one matters most: Is this a trap?"
At Lambert's query, everyone exchanged glances.
When gazes naturally gathered on me, Verrot began, "Then—"
"The possibility seems low. Even with [Status Forgery], the first skill to hide would be [Stealth]. Also, as Alter-sama noted, the setup is too crude. His high skills explain how he escaped and evaded capture. We shouldn't drop suspicion, but there's likely no immediate concern."
"Understood, good work. Even if he's allied with attackers, if his skills are as confirmed, repelling him is easy. His 'south' destination is irrelevant. We'll hand him over at Silveck and part ways."
Lambert's words gave me pause.
Is handing him over right?
Expecting morality from slavers is foolish—but they're far from decent.
Given his harsh treatment, what would a runaway endure?
If we protected him—
I swallowed my words.
We can't.
This isn't a normal journey.
"We have... no obligation to hand him over."
Choosing my words carefully, I drew everyone's gaze.
I succinctly explained Yunek's situation.
"Thus, I think letting him go is an option."
"I see. I understand your point. I don't mind either way. Silveck is close—taking him there isn't burdensome. If we free him—well, even if we provide food, we can restock soon."
"But—could he survive?"
Verrot's question left me speechless.
Likely not.
Either monsters or the Brave Warriors would get him.
Even evading both, he might starve.
However it goes, his survival odds are slim.
If Selen were near, we could manage.
But even at full speed, carrying Yunek would take who knows how long.
If only his destination were clear—but "south" is too vague...
Then I recalled something.
He did mention it, but surely not...
Markant once said a beastkin village lies in the Deepreign Forest.
True, most imperial lands lead south to it.
But even Markant's group couldn't find it, and the forest can't be all village.
"South" might not mean the forest.
Unlikely.
Even Yunek wouldn't last long wandering there.
As I hesitated, Lambert started to speak but stopped, shifting his gaze.
Perhaps roused by voices, Yunek rubbed his eyes.
Noticing our stares, he shrank under the fur.
"Good morning..."
"Sleep well?"
"Y-yes! Alter-sama!"
His faint greeting drew my smile, which he tentatively returned.
But "sama" right away?
To him, anyone not a slave must warrant it.
"Morning."
Umber also greeted him while approaching.
Sekies and the others rose too, making small talk and subtly asking him to reveal his status.
Though hiding it, they seemed surprised by Yunek's talent—and frailty.
Amid this, Verrot returned.
"Shall we let him decide?"
"Fine. It's his life."
"Understood."
With Lambert's approval, Verrot posed the question when the time came.
Instantly, Yunek panicked.
Verrot explained in child-friendly terms, but Yunek seemed unable to process it.
Waiting yielded no answer, so Lambert decided on Silveck.
◇◇◇◇
While everyone dismantled the campsite, I converted the underground stone walls into earthen barriers using them as catalysts.
Once preparations were complete, we promptly departed for Silveck with Yunek in tow.
As we progressed along the road, chewing sounds came from nearby.
Clutching the draped fur cloak, Yunek desperately gnawed on dried meat.
Having woken late, breakfast was eaten on the move.
Though a meager meal of just jerky and some dried fruit, camp mornings usually consist of leftovers or whatever's on hand. In terms of simplicity, we weren't much better off.
Also, since his clothes were too threadbare, I had him wear a fur cloak, and to prevent further injury, wrapped thick cloth around his feet as makeshift shoes.
Thinking dried food would parch his throat, I took out a cup and filled it with [Pure Water].
When I offered it, Yunek bowed his head.
"Th-thank you very much!"
"Don't gulp it down. You'll chill your body."
At my warning, Yunek nodded repeatedly.
At departure, Yunek naturally positioned himself behind me.
While fine for formation, it clearly mirrored a master-servant dynamic.
I doubted simple kindness like yesterday's meal would endear me to him, but after observing awhile, it struck me.
Perhaps a beastkin trait?
More precisely, a trait of canine or lupine species that favor packs.
Just as elf hunters exist, beastkin hunters aren't rare either.
If elves are targeted for magic and looks, beastkin likely face persecution for both physical prowess and these inherent traits.
Hearing the clank of iron peeking from fur and shackles, I felt a wave of disgust.
Soon after, a merchant caravan approached from ahead.
Three wagons—quite the entourage.
We'd already passed several adventurer groups and traders. Silveck must be near.
Guards seemed to ride inside the wagons, with only an armed man seated beside the lead driver.
Spotting us, the man immediately knocked on the wagon and issued a warning.
Our wariness matched theirs.
At Sekies's direction, we shifted from the road to the grasslands to let them pass.
With a caravan that size, dozens of armed men suddenly emerging wouldn't be surprising.
Not that they'd actually do that.
The driver bowed slightly as they passed.
Once the rearmost wagon was gone, Yabushou relaxed his guard.
But as we prepared to resume, I noticed Yunek standing frozen.
His gaze was fixed on the wagon's cargo bed, where adventurers still watched us warily.
For a moment, I wondered if he recognized them, but his expression held no fear.
Though Yabushou drew their caution, they paid no mind to small Yunek.
Perhaps some beastkin instinct sensed something amiss.
"What's wrong? Something bothering you?"
"N-no... I just thought... there are so many adventurers..."
Yunek answered in a near-whisper.
Adventurers—so many? There are five of us right here.
Come to think of it, he'd acted oddly when Yabushou introduced himself too.
Urging him to walk, I probed further.
"Interested in adventurers?"
"The beastkin who told me to flee... was a former adventurer... So I wondered... what they're like..."
"A former adventurer... beastkin?"
My first thought was Dylas of the Silent Blade.
Though likely mistaken, I asked anyway—indeed, someone else.
From Yunek's description, his liberator seemed feline, whereas Dylas was a bison beastkin—hard to confuse.
Moreover, Dylas serves Pidosios.
Even if enslaved, he'd be rescued swiftly.
As I sighed in relief, Yunek began sharing unsolicited details.
His time with the beastkin slave seemed joyful—clutching jerky, he gestured animatedly.
I played the listener, interjecting nods to let him speak freely.
"And then! They told me about the beastkin god too! How they fought an evil god long ago!"
"An evil god—Zebel the Beast God?"
Zebel, the beastkin who battled the devouring god Adudou in mythic times.
Revered among beastkin, his worship remains fervent.
Adudou allegedly clashed with the immortal hydra Halouva too, placing Zebel's might beyond mortal measure.
Though Adudou was treated more as a natural disaster, often exploited in tales.
Much like humans worship Lactos or halflings revere Yorgul, beastkin may have crafted Zebel as their own deity.
Regardless, being mythic lore, his existence remains shrouded.
Keeping such thoughts hidden, I shared what I knew of Zebel.
Watching Yunek listen raptly, I glimpsed the former adventurer beastkin's intent.
Earlier, Yunek said, "The beastkin slave who told me to flee."
Not "who freed me."
Yunek was born enslaved.
His will to resist was stripped young, leaving him to live reading his masters' moods.
His demeanor toward us made that clear.
Whether exploited or innate mattered little—such a child wouldn't possess the drive to escape alone.
The beastkin likely spoke of Zebel to plant hope.
That beastkin aren't weak—that they're a strong race capable of what humans cannot.
That near-subliminal hope bore fruit, enabling his flight from slavers.
But there, it ended.
Even when told he could flee us, Yunek didn't move.
Nor when told we'd return him to slavers.
A life ingrained so deeply doesn't change easily.
Yet Yunek's eyes still shone recounting Zebel's deeds.
Smiling back, I began earnestly wrestling with what to do about him.