Chapter 77: Chapter 77

Ran gazed quietly at the scenery of Aburota unfolding below the hill.

Tascar, who was beside him, quickly interjected.

"There's no need for you to step in when I'm here."

"You're at risk of being recognized by someone."

Ran added swiftly, "Rev, Sigurd, and Ragna are coming with me."

Rev, who had been spinning his quill, opened his eyes wide. Before Tascar could respond, terrence asked the reason first.

"First, Sigurd needs to rest. It'd be good for Ragna to stay by her side, and Rev will serve as our contact with this group."

Ran gathered the people together.

The group had endured a grueling journey. Physically and mentally exhausted, it was only natural that their tension eased upon seeing the peaceful village landscape.

"...? Everyone must be tired, but please remember again that this isn't the Empire, it's Northland."

The encouragement was brief. Ran felt he didn't have the right to say more.

"I'll gather information on the Black Priests inside. I'll also try to estimate the size of the Snow Leopards tribe's forces. While getting a read on the atmosphere, I'll discreetly spread the rumor that Tascar is alive."

Ran held up three fingers.

"We won't stay for more than three days. If Rev doesn't return here within that time, relocate the camp."

He didn't forget to remind Tascar, too.

"No matter what happens, I'll protect Sigurd and Ragna. You make sure you keep Iel safe."

It wasn't the time for pride. Tascar reluctantly nodded.

So far, Ran's plans had never gone astray.

Early the next morning, the four of them set out.

Tascar, terrence, and Iel stayed up to see them off. No grand goodbyes were exchanged. They simply waved as if they'd see each other again soon.

Ran and Iel also exchanged just a faint smile.

Ran kept an eye on the area around Aburota as they approached. The only thing separating the inside from the outside was a mere symbolic wooden fence. There wasn't even a gate or any guards.

"Aburota's a village for wanderers. Don't worry so much."

Ragna rolled his eyes. Going the long way around was tedious and annoying.

"While you were away from Northland, black Priests appeared. Who knows what might have happened here, too?"

"I doubt even they could mess with Aburota. Besides, even if you can speak like a Northman, aren't you a bit too much like an imperial, Ran?"

Ran nonchalantly checked his appearance. If anything happened, he planned to claim he was a half-blood.

'Rev is an imperial slave.'

Just then, the nervous Rev passed by Ran's side.

The four walked slowly. As they neared the entrance,

Sigurd stepped in front of Ran and gestured for him to lower his head.

"If you're going to disguise yourself, you should do it properly."

Without warning, Sigurd grabbed Ran by the head and yanked him down to her eye level.

"W-What are you doing?!"

It had been a long time since Ran's last haircut, so his hair was nearly shoulder-length.

Sigurd quickly swept back the hair covering his ears, grabbed a few long strands, and twisted them here and there. Her hands moved so fast and boldly that Ran didn't have a chance to protest.

With his head entrusted to Sigurd, Ran glanced sideways. The blue eyes of a woman, absorbed in her work with a ribbon clenched between her lips, glinted.

In the awkward silence, Ran's gaze landed on Sigurd's belly.

"Um, Sigurd. What does it feel like to have a child inside you?"

Sigurd paused and looked at Ran. Ran quickly averted his eyes.

Soon, a faint laugh was heard.

"No one's ever asked me that before. From a grown adult, no less. Especially a warrior."

"...? Sorry. It just came to me suddenly..."

"It's scary and exciting. Because I'm carrying a child unique in all the world."

Sigurd smiled as she looked at Ragna.

"I'm the only one who can have this child, and it's my duty. That's all there is to it."

Ran felt his heart beat faster. Words of admiration instinctively escaped his lips, quickly turning into a groan as his scalp felt like it was being torn off.

"Oooh—it actually looks good on you!"

Ragna gave a big thumbs-up.

His shaggy hair was braided and neatly tucked behind his ears. Even this simple change made his face look brighter.

"You'd been hiding a good-looking face all along."

Sigurd also smiled, satisfied, though it was a shame she didn't have more time to display her skills.

Ran awkwardly patted his hair as he started to walk.

"Wow, can't believe even this suits you."

Rev stuck close to Ran as he walked.

"But, Ran, I've always wondered—where did you learn to speak Northland so well?"

"I just learned from books."

"... You learned it, from books."

Rev repeated Ran's words slowly, frown deepening.

"What did you say to Sigurd earlier? You two were talking for a while."

"... Oh. It's nothing. I just said she looked pretty."

Rev froze in his tracks. His face looked as if his world had just ended.

'He's a master of both arms and wit, incredibly handsome, ready to sacrifice himself for justice, and even boldly approaches married women...'

If a novel's hero were written , readers might just shun him. Rev felt a sense of utter defeat. Emptiness washed over him. He was deeply feeling the futility of life and the world's injustice.

Tears like chicken droppings fell—a man's hot tears.

Aburota bustled with life everywhere. It was totally different from how it looked from atop the hill. In the actual streets, a palpable energy filled the air.

"Spot open for the Brooktal Hill Mammoth Hunt! We leave tomorrow morning!"

"Anything good at the slave market today?"

"Just wait—you couldn't afford the best stuff here if you sold everything you owned."

"Icemane tribe subjugation squad—gather out back quickly! We're leaving slowpokes behind!"

The party crossed the bustling crowd. Some people glanced at them, but most didn't seem to care much.

Rev's legs were trembling. Towering Northmen were shouting fiercely all around, making him feel as if they might eat him alive. The ground was so muddy it felt like a swamp.

"It's fine, it's fine. Nothing to be scared of."

Ragna patted Rev's back. It was so noisy, there was no need to lower his voice.

Ran stopped in front of a building in the middle of the street.

The building, made of mud, wasn't tall, but stretched wide. The noise coming from inside was loud enough to spill outdoors.

Ran pushed open the wooden door.

Northmen were laughing, drinking, and shouting. The stench of their sweat mixed with the stink of alcohol assaulted their noses.

The group found empty seats.

'We'd better feed the expectant mother and the child.'

He couldn't let Sigurd or the child go hungry. Ran was about to order.

"New faces, aren't you?"

A Northman swaggered over, leaning on their table as he looked each of them up and down. His eyes were lined with black so the movement of his pupils was vivid.

Tension filled the air. Sigurd and Ragna lowered their heads deeply, like criminals. Getting found out would only worsen things. Rev was openly sweating.

The man's gaze settled on Ran, who was the only one keeping his composure.

Ran spoke before the man could.

"Huh? What'd you say?"

"You heard me. What are you? Move your face, you're getting on my nerves."

The Northman bared his black-stained teeth in laughter. Now, some others around started to pay a bit more attention to them.

"Kihah, look at this guy, eh? I smell something fishy."

A few people nearby even turned to face them squarely.

The room was still so noisy, not everyone was watching.

The man who had been sneering now glared sharply at Ran.

"What tribe are you from?"

"Frost Serpent? Ho. If the famous Frost Serpent tribe had a black-haired warrior, it'd be a big deal. How come I never heard of you? Anyone here heard of this?"

Everyone shook their heads. The man snorted.

Sigurd, panicking, was about to interject when Ran spoke up.

"Why don't you introduce yourself first?"

"Before that. For reference: I'm here, under orders of Chieftain Tanatonga, escorting this imperial slave. These are the chieftain's fourth wife, alkaya, and ninth son, harald."

"They just came out for a look around. What kind of trouble will our chieftain cause if his wife and son go home to Aburota in a foul mood because of some tramp? Think carefully before you speak."

"Oh, and how could I forget to mention—it's Alkaya here who's carrying Tanatonga's great bloodline."

Ran had memorized the Frost Serpent tribe and Chieftain Tanatonga's names thanks to Iravan, the vanguard scout company they encountered in Orvik, who'd boasted about his origins.

All Ran could do now was desperately hope a real Frost Serpent didn't show up.

Barely keeping his face straight, he noticed the man suddenly dropped his guarded look and laughed idiotically, as if deliberately.

"Hey, everybody! Take a look! Here are the companions of the mighty warrior Mukesh, the bloodline of Frost Serpent Chieftain Tanatonga! Tanatonga, alkaya, harald! And for the soon-to-be-born child of the Frost Serpent!"

The man banged his horn cup on the table.

The wave of toasts spread to the very back. The Northmen, each laughing and shouting, didn't even ask why, but raised their cups and cheered—then went right back to their conversations.

Draining his cup, the man settled in at their table. Picking minor fights was as common for Northmen as their rough speech. Soon, even Sigurd and Ragna were chatting comfortably with him.

Ran checked the atmosphere. No one was paying them attention anymore; everyone was too busy drinking and talking.

Ran drew the man's attention.

"All right, ube. The south sure is different from the north."

"Ha ha, that's true."

Ube tore the meat with his hands and laughed. Ran cautiously observed everything about Ube, from the small things upward, and spoke carefully.

"I thought there'd be more Black Priests in Aburota."

Ube's face suddenly hardened. His hands, which had been moving, stopped.

Ran quickly added, "It's all anyone talks about these days, right? Don't you think so?"

He deliberately slapped Ube's chest with an exaggerated laugh.

Finally, ube relaxed his expression.

"Hey, ulfgar." ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ NoveI[F]ire.net

Ube lowered his voice this time.

"You know, right? Ever since Ortega was taken over by those Snow Leopard bastards, things haven't felt right around here."

Ran, not really knowing, nodded anyway.

Ube popped a piece of torn meat into his mouth, glancing around suspiciously.

"Damn it. Even Aburota's not what it used to be."

"... Makes sense. I heard there's a Black Priest leader around here?"

Ube definitely seemed hostile to the Black Priests, but Ran stayed extremely cautious, choosing words with care. Even subtle shifts in meaning could cause misunderstandings.

"Oh, you mean the Pontiff?"

While sorting through the atmosphere and information in his head, Ran suddenly froze like a broken pulley.

He had no choice but to ask again.

"Yeah. Why you making that dumb face? Ha ha."

"Pontiff" was a word Ran had never heard before.

At least, neither Quersa nor the mainland empire had such a word. Nor did it seem to be of Northland origin.

It was unfamiliar, but strangely familiar.

When you know a language well, sometimes you recognize derived words even if you don't know the details.

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