Chapter 82 - Eighty-Two ... Franklin’s Folly

Chapter 82: Chapter Eighty-Two ... Franklin’s Folly

Chapter Eighty-Two ... Franklin’s Folly

"Huff, huff."

The battle against the undead was over. Watching the undead rise again and again without dying, Jan had worried they might suffer heavy losses, but fortunately Agphiel was with them.

True to his name as the Great Sage of the Forest, Agphiel had acted quickly, and thanks to that, Jan’s soldiers had suffered almost no losses.

"That’s a relief."

Jan wiped away his sweat and breathed hard. Having just swung his weapon with all his strength, he was completely drained.

"A-are you hurt anywhere? Is your body all right?"

Agphiel came over with a somewhat dazed look on his face.

"Did you see something you shouldn’t have? Your face is so pale..."

"Wh-what? No. Something I shouldn’t have seen? No, what I saw was something truly holy."

Jan looked at him, puzzled.

Something truly holy? Had the man suddenly taken up religion? Jan tilted his head in curiosity, but he didn’t press the question. That wasn’t what mattered right now.

"Can we find Franklin and his army? It looks as though things have gone badly for them. If it comes to it, perhaps we should retreat..."

"Hm. Still, it’s an army of a great house. It won’t have collapsed so easily."

"So your opinion, Master Agphiel, is that we keep following them?"

"Isn’t that best? Now that we’ve come this far, we might as well rescue Franklin too. Once we fought off the undead, the path opened up again. If we follow the trail, we’ll find Franklin."

Sure enough, when Jan looked around, the undergrowth that had blocked the way had vanished, and a path had appeared once more.

What a strange mystery hung over this forest.

Clicking his tongue, Jan got to his feet. He had decided to follow Agphiel’s advice.

Having come this far, going back with nothing to show for it would be a problem too. The dead would have died for nothing, wouldn’t they? And of course, his standing among the nobles would suffer a little too.

"Very well. Let’s keep following them. But first, let’s cremate the dead soldiers before we go. If we leave them here like this, they might become undead."

"A very good decision. The dead will be grateful to you for it."

Jan immediately had the soldiers gather the bodies in one place and burn them. Then he picked a few quick soldiers to scout ahead and track Franklin’s trail. Once the cremation was finished, he meant to move out at once.

"Ah, that’s right."

Then a thought suddenly occurred to him, and Jan looked at Agphiel.

"Master Agphiel."

"What is it?"

"Earlier, you shouted something to me, didn’t you?"

He hadn’t heard it clearly in the middle of the battle, but he had certainly heard Agphiel shouting from a distance. It had sounded very urgent, like something he absolutely had to say...

"Now, now. What would I have said?"

"You know. Earlier, when I was fighting that strange undead knight, didn’t you shout? I’m sure... Ah! Yes. Lupton! You mustn’t fight that thing head-on! To defeat it, you need... Something like that. Wasn’t it?"

Agphiel cleared his throat and shouted.

"Ahem. I said it was nothing! You misheard, man."

Jan stared at him, puzzled.

’If it was nothing, it was nothing. Why get so worked up? Maybe he’s tired from using so much magic.’

It was truly a mystery.

"Move the dead first, quickly! Every corpse has to be burned!"

"Don’t stop, dig the pits first. There’s no time to cut corners. If we’re slow, we all die!"

The mercenary captains and knights shouted until the veins stood out on their necks. After the strange things they had been through since entering this damned forest, none of them could feel at ease.

Paths that suddenly vanished.

Undead that suddenly appeared.

And the bodies of their own men, suddenly rising again as the dead.

Their time in this cursed forest had been truly horrific. Every one of the mercenary captains who had followed Franklin out to hunt the bandits now regretted it.

’Damn it. I should have just stayed at the banquet and drunk myself stupid. What is all this...’

They had charged ahead to catch his eye, and a bolt from the blue had struck them. They should have followed the old saying of their trade: never lead the way on a job you aren’t being paid for...

"This is truly sickening."

"Can we even get out of this forest? What’s Franklin doing about it?"

"Shh, shh. Keep your voice down. Say the wrong thing and you’ll lose your head."

"Bah... Was this our fault? Damn it."

With things as they were, it was only natural that morale plummeted. On top of that, Franklin, without a thought for his own mistake, was in a foul temper.

"It’d be easier if they’d just die, damn it."

"Right. What kind of monsters don’t die? You have to burn them with fire just to have a chance."

But the most horrifying thing of all was the undead themselves.

Monsters of the dead that would not die, no matter how many times they were cut down.

And weren’t there rather a lot of them?

With creatures that couldn’t be killed pressing in again and again, it was enough to drive a man mad. It was lucky they were in a forest, with plenty of branches to burn. If not...

"Ugh, damn it."

The mercenary captains squeezed their eyes shut as though they’d imagined something truly dreadful.

Franklin and the knights knew the situation just as well.

"What on earth are we supposed to do?"

"..."

"Is there any way? To get out of this forest?"

"I’m sorry, my lord."

"This is maddening! Is ’I’m sorry’ really all you have to say?"

Franklin lost his temper in frustration, but the knights were just as frustrated. No matter how hard they thought, they could see no way out.

The paths in the forest changed from moment to moment.

A path that had definitely been open a moment ago would vanish if they looked away for an instant. It was uncanny, but what could they do?

They should have listened to the serfs who had warned them not to follow the bandits when they fled in this direction.

But they had already entered the cursed forest, and it was far too late for regrets.

"Fine, fine. Then let’s at least deal with the problem right in front of us."

Franklin let out a deep sigh and caught his breath as he spoke.

"That monster that did us so much harm."

"The Death Knight, you mean, my lord?"

"Yes, that Death Knight. Is there any way to deal with it?"

A silence fell at Franklin’s words.

When the undead had attacked, the Death Knight had led the way alone, slaughtering the mercenaries. Several of Franklin’s knights had stepped forward to defeat it, but instead they had been badly wounded and beaten.

Its whole body was sealed in hard armor without a gap, and it swung a sword that seethed with a wicked black aura. There had been no way to stop it.

Even when they had somehow forced a blade through a gap in the armor and severed an arm or a leg, it rose again at once, as the undead did, and went on slaughtering.

It was a terrifying thing that no one ever wanted to face again.