Chapter 6
In his previous life, Eugene was not a soldier who served honorably under the sun.
He was the kind of soldier who hid in the shadows, staining his hands with blood and filth.
He couldn't wear a proud uniform or display the medals he'd been awarded, yet he held pride in himself.
Because in times of peace, it was people like him who brought national benefit, and it was a job someone had to do.
Still, there was one unsettling aspect.
*You'll die and fall into Hell!*
*You damn bastard! You'll never make me open my mouth!*
*Are you giving me the disease and then the cure? Go to Hell.*
Due to the nature of his missions, he often had to be present for the target's treatment (what Eugene had broken) and their final moments (what Eugene carried out).
During this process, he received all sorts of insults and curses, but he particularly often heard the command to "go to Hell."
But didn't they say words become seeds? When he met an unfortunate death during a mission, a path to Hell truly opened before his soul.
* * *
"!!!"
He opened his eyes to find the sun already high in the sky. It was a memory from the past that he'd recall every now and then.
Was it because he had expended too much energy, from hunting the Monster Boar to his duel with Godfrey? Or was it something else?
*I'll release it right now, you rascal! So the wine incident was real after all!*
Was it because he had used the Witch's Power inherited from his mother after a long time?
As he grew older, Eugene began to understand the Witch's Power that was infused in his blood.
It wasn't something that could be explained in words. It was a power he simply understood naturally.
The Witch's Power was not something a man could wield, but Eugene was an exception. Perhaps it was due to the unique experiences his soul had undergone.
He was the only being who had faced death, directly seen and experienced the other side of the world, and then returned to the present world.
After a quick wash with water he had prepared, he left his Monastery room.
"..."
"Ahem!"
The Priests he encountered avoided Eugene with uncomfortable expressions. He was already disliked and was soon to leave. Even Godfrey, who had been his shield, had disappeared under unfortunate circumstances.
*Whether I retrieve my mother's belongings from the Sealing Chamber or not, I'll have to leave the village.*
If he was marked to this extent in a village governed by the Monastery, he could even be driven out of the forest.
Like the mill, the forest was a place symbolizing the Feudal Lord's unique power.
For a splendidly armed Noble to lead Soldiers and hunt game was a kind of ritual.
It instilled a sense of awe in the Territory Residents, making them think, “Ah! That is our Lord. How fearsome he is.”
Kingdom's End, being governed by the Monastery, had no lavish Noble Hunts.
Instead, a tradition of generously opening the forest to everyone, from Hunters to Herbalists, had continued.
But now, even that generosity might change. At least, where Eugene and Homi were concerned.
*Wherever the two of us go, we won't starve, at least.*
With their bond, strength, and knowledge, they would surely overcome the trials of the world. For they were no longer the powerless, young boy and girl of the past.
Eugene sought out the village Blacksmith's Shop. It was run by a man who once crafted armaments for Knights in a Manor. Now, in this Backwater, it was practically a farm tool specialist.
"Next time, do it yourself. I can't keep doing it for you, can I, Mister?"
"Yes! Yes! Thank you!"
The boy, holding a screaming kid goat, bowed deeply.
The middle-aged bald man held castration shears. He spotted Eugene and gestured for the boy to hurry away.
"Maaaaa-!"
The kid goat, now neither male nor female, let out a mournful bleat as it moved away.
No blood flowed, perhaps because the wound had been cauterized with red-hot tongs. It was a crude method for a young goat, but the Blacksmith knew it increased the survival rate.
"Welcome, Sir Eugene."
The Blacksmith greeted him respectfully.
"The item you ordered earlier is complete. Please, take a look."
He brought over a polearm and handed it to him. It was a flail, a striking weapon with a short chain attached to the end of a long handle, connected to a blunt head.
Considering his immense strength, Eugene had ordered it much larger and longer, and made entirely of solid iron to enhance its durability.
Thanks to this, its power was incomparable to similar weapons in this world.
"Oh! When a Knight like you wields it, it looks truly brutal—no, *valiant*."
Eugene always prepared for any eventuality. He needed a versatile weapon for when he left the village to travel the world.
"Good work. It turned out much better than I expected. You truly are a Master Craftsman."
"This one will endure no matter how roughly you handle it. Look at the thickness of this chain. Even if Gord Warriors swing their axes at it, it'll barely get a scratch."
Swords, despite being expensive, were surprisingly easy to break. It was also difficult to handle every situation with just one sword.
He needed a durable, inexpensive polearm, and the flail was an excellent choice. It suited Eugene's strength well and was easy to maintain.
"I've also finished modifying the armor you entrusted to me."
"Oh!"
The armor Godfrey had bequeathed to him reflected a brilliant light.
It was an excellent suit of armor, with a meticulously crafted metal plate cuirass and Chainmail covering the elbows and thighs. Few Knights, if any, wore armor this fine.
Most used Chainmail as a base and added various reinforcements. The extent of coverage and the Auxiliary Armor added varied greatly depending on one's financial situation.
Coat of Plates and Brigandine, which had iron plates fixed inside a vest, were also widely favored.
"The quality is always breathtaking. Even the armor I handled when I worked at the Lord's Manor rarely matched this superior grade."
The Blacksmith helped Eugene put on the armor.
The difference in stature between Master and Disciple was significant, but inheriting the armor was not an issue. This was because, like other armors, it was modular, made of separate pieces. With the skilled hands of an Artisan, it could be perfectly fitted to Eugene's body.
"How does it feel?"
"Perfect. Much more so than I imagined."
He moved his body this way and that, finding no discomfort whatsoever.
"When a Knight like you wears it, you look like a Feudal Lord from somewhere."
"Thank you for the compliment."
The Blacksmith's words were not flattery. Eugene, with his large build and masculine appearance, looked magnificent in the armor.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"I'll be leaving the village soon, so I need tools and consumables for weapon maintenance. My oil is almost gone, and I need to buy a whetstone."
"Looks like I've made all my sales for today."
The Blacksmith grinned and brought out the items Eugene had ordered, one by one.
"It's truly a shame. Though I never thought you'd stay in this Backwater forever."
With each item he placed down, the Blacksmith's expression grew sadder.
Aside from personal goodwill, he regretted the departure of the village's powerful Warrior and Herbalist. Because if Eugene left, Homi would follow him like a shadow.
"I cannot promise, but a day will come when we meet again. Until then, stay healthy."
"I pray that Sir Eugene's renown reaches even this countryside. In my heart, of course."
"Indeed. Just make sure the Monastery Priests never find out."
Eugene paid for the items and extended his right hand. The Blacksmith smiled and clasped it firmly.
* * *
The next place he visited was the Cabin in the forest.
Homi was easy to spot from a distance. She was napping on the oak tree next to the Cabin.
A simple sleeping bag made of linen filled with straw eliminated the hardness of the branches. Homi loved climbing to the top of trees to watch the Mountain Range or observe the village.
*Twitch.*
Her sleeping body stirred a few times, then she shot upright. She must have sensed Eugene approaching.
Homi descended headfirst, gripping the trunk with all fours. It was like an animal climbing a tree, yet it possessed an artistic, graceful aesthetic.
"Master has left."
At Eugene's first words, Homi gasped and covered her mouth.
"He asked me to tell you to forgive him for not saying goodbye. The situation when he left was quite... difficult."
Eugene explained the circumstances: Godfrey's final teaching given with all his might, his disappointment with the Monastery, and his pursuit of the Voice of God, which had stagnated.
Homi's face grew angry as he explained. It wasn't resentment towards Godfrey, but fury towards the Monastery.
"I'll be leaving the village soon too. What will you do?"
Homi clasped Eugene's hands, intertwining their fingers. It was a declaration of her will to follow him anywhere, beyond the Mountain Range or across the sea.
"Thank you."
As he stroked her head, her long, thick white tail, characteristic of a snow leopard, wagged excitedly.
The two ate lunch together in the Cabin. Since they were leaving soon and couldn't take everything, a lavish meal was prepared.
Rare ingredients that could only be found by combining the Witch's knowledge with the Beastfolk's nose.
Spices refined from herbs, sap, and mushrooms transformed ordinary meat into a delicacy. The water plant stew was filled with thoroughly purged freshwater clam meat.
"We'll have a hard time for a while after leaving the village. But if we work together, we'll soon be able to establish a good home."
*Of course! Just trust my nose. I'll make sure you eat meat every single day.*
Homi, her mouth full of food, vigorously communicated in sign language. Perhaps to conserve energy, she ate much more than usual.
After the meal, Homi grabbed the hem of Eugene's clothes as he was about to leave. Her eyes asked if he really had to spend the remaining days in the uncomfortable Monastery.
"There's something I need to retrieve. I have to get back my mother's belongings that those bastards took."
At his words, Homi released his hand. Then she clenched her fist and struck a fighting pose. It was a gesture Eugene had taught her.
"Leave it to me."
Again, Homi waved her hand until Eugene was out of sight.
* * *
As Eugene awaited the day of his departure, he visited the Prison at every mealtime to deliver food to the Dhampir women.
He felt sympathy for the child, but for some reason, he saw reflections of himself and his mother in the mother and daughter.
He didn't want to abandon the mother and daughter, who clung to each other in hunger and fear.
Given Eugene's position, he couldn't rescue them. Still, he wanted to at least provide them with food while he was at the Monastery.
"Are you planning to starve again today?"
While the mother and daughter expressed their gratitude and ate, the girl crossed her arms and closed her eyes. She seemed too weak to even bother speaking.
"How can we ever repay this kindness?"
The mother and daughter, having finished their meal happily, knelt side by side and bowed with clasped hands.
"What are your names?"
"I am Lara, and this is my daughter, Lani."
*Bow.*
At her mother's introduction, Lani, the daughter, bowed deeply.
"I'll bring more tomorrow. Is it palatable?"
"Yes. It was truly delicious."
The mother and daughter's faces, filled with awe beyond mere gratitude, showed anticipation.
"Young Lady, please, just one bite."
Meanwhile, the little Young Lady, Lani, held out the leftover food and pleaded earnestly. But the girl remained unmoving.
"I won't eat."
"But you must be terribly hungry. You're so thin."
Even as Lani spoke tearfully, the girl maintained an icy expression.
Her already slender frame, combined with her hollow eyes, made her look truly precarious.
"I repeat, I won't eat."
Faced with such stubbornness, Lani retreated.
*Grrrruuuumble!*
*At that moment, a mighty rumble echoed from the girl's stomach.*
"Lani, you're at an age where you're growing, so you must be hungry. Eat a little more heartily."
"Huh? Oh, ah! Yes!"
Lani looked puzzled by Eugene's words, then suddenly understood and nodded vigorously.
*GRRRRUMBLE! GRRRRUMBLE! GRRRRUMBLE!*
A thunderous sound, even more intense, was heard.
"...You don't need to be *that* considerate."
The girl said, turning her flushed face away.