My Demons

Chapter 51

The journey that started rather calmly took a dire turn as the night sky became shrouded in darkness.

The one responsible for disrupting the tranquility was none other than me.

There! Pirates!

A pirate vessel emerged beneath the faint moonlight.

The pirate ship, which had emerged from the southwest, had its sails furled, but

My, theyre incredibly swift, arent they?

Dozens of pairs of large oars lined on both sides appeared to propel the sea as if operated by a single individual.

My mouth opened involuntarily as I beheld the massive ship, which appeared to be over 40 meters long, rapidly closing in on us.

Head for the shore, head for the shore!

Upon hearing the urgent cry from the scout Lomet, Randel and Grania, positioned at the stern, clenched their teeth and began rowing.

The boat swiftly altered its course and headed towards the shore.

Although the tide was out, the boat moved faster than anticipated due to the still choppy waves.

However, Arnal, seated at the bow, shouted with a determined expression.

Damn it, theyre gaining on us! Faster!

Arnal displayed urgency because the pirate ship had started to unfurl its sails and change its direction to pursue us.

But shouldnt we be less concerned? The shore is already so close.

Just as I thought that,

What?!

The pirate ship accelerated as though it had an engine, attaining an incredible speed.

Theyll catch us row faster!

I wanted to join in rowing, but I had to restrain myself.

Up to now, the four of them had maintained a good rowing rhythm, and if I let my impatience interfere and exerted too much force, the boat might capsize. Meanwhile, the gap with the pirate ship continued to narrow.

Damn, are we going to end up right in front of their bow?

Regret was pointless. We had never planned for pirates this fast in the first place.

They didnt know about our plans; they must be a patrol ship. The seas security must be tighter than we anticipated. Or perhaps, we were simply unlucky.

Tch.

As the pirate ship drew nearer, Arnal nocked an arrow onto her bow.

That sight sent shivers down my spine, so I hastily raised the shield I was carrying. I remembered being struck by an arrow in my first battle since arriving in this world.

The shield I received as a supply from the prince had a different design than the one I used before.

It was what Earth commonly referred to as a heater shield, often used by mounted troops.

It barely covered my upper body and was lightweight, not entirely satisfying but still usable.

Ellen, come here.

While observing the pirates on the deck, I pulled Ellen closer. She stood beside me and whispered softly.

Phoenix.

Hmm?

Once we reach the shore, depending on the situation, lets head north.

What? Why bring this up now?

We dont necessarily have to return to South Harbor.

Why mention this now?

Because right now, we dont need to worry about the Lord or the prince. We have other options.

Shes right.

The Lord of South Harbor, not to mention Prince Ulkar, would be occupied fighting bandits.

Weve already completed our mission, so even if we slip away in the chaos, its unlikely that a bounty will be placed on us.

After briefly glancing at her blue eyes, I hesitated and then spoke.

I wont forget that we have options.

Then?

But lets do what we can for now.

At my words, Ellen frowned as if frustrated.

Are you kidding? Theres a limit to how far you should go when youre gambling with your life. Pirates or bandits, theyll let you go if you can run away.

Put away your petty heroism. Weve done what we can.

Heroism, huh.

Well, its not wrong. The reason I cant run away is because I see myself as a hero, or rather, as a player.

Considering the scenario in the game, being the protagonist in this world was my role, no matter how I thought about it.

Would another character appear to take on the scenario if I ran away? No, it didnt seem likely.

This vague belief that if its not me, then South Harbor and even the world would be doomed. If this isnt misplaced heroism, what is?

Sigh, Im suddenly feeling disillusioned.

To think that Im the only one who can save the world. Im not in my teenage years, Im already in my thirties.

To be honest, I dont have the courage to save the world.

But that doesnt mean I want to save my own life by running away. Im also afraid to just stand by and watch the preordained apocalypse unfold.

At least, it seemed we had distanced ourselves sufficiently from the pirates.

They had relentlessly pursued us along the beach, but we appeared to have lost them as we ran along the river. They were no longer in sight, although they might be trailing us from a distance.

Of course, we couldnt afford to let our guard down.

The plan I was about to executeperhaps Plan B-4? I hadnt discussed it with the party, but I had considered that it might come to this.

We were heading toward the secret passage.

Arnal, are you okay?

Huff, huffyeah.

Though she nodded as she breathed heavily, Arnals complexion was already pale.

The arrow in her arm wasnt hanging loose, but it hadnt been properly treated, and it continued to seep blood.

Given our intense movement, I was becoming concerned about excessive bleeding.

I briefly checked on Ellen.

Thanks to an overall increase in physical stats, she appeared to be struggling but was keeping pace with the group. She was breathing heavily but hadnt reached the point of collapse.

Once I assessed that Ellen was okay, I hoisted Arnal onto my back.

Hey, let me go-

Arnal squirmed for a moment but then clutched her wound as I lifted her. It was fortunate to avoid unnecessary struggle.

In the distance, I spotted the small hill I had climbed to avoid the poisoned swamp. The secret passage was getting closer, and so was my anxiety.

The bandits wouldnt have left the passage unguarded. They could either be swarming like dogs or guarded by elites.

Can we break through them?

What if they have completely destroyed the passage? We cant waste time in a place swarming with enemies.

As I contemplated this and looked aheadhuh?

Wait, stop!

At my faint shout, the party came to a sudden halt. Ignoring the skeptical gazes of the group, I carefully placed Arnal on the ground.

Thats when the group noticed the scene on top of the hill and uttered words of astonishment.

What on earth is this

This is horrifying.

At the crest of a gentle hill by the riverbank, numerous corpses were scattered. It appeared that the battle had just concluded.

Most of the bodies were those of bandits, but among them, a few individuals with foreign appearances and attire could be seen.

The most striking among them was a woman leaning against a tree trunk with an arrow lodged in her neck. She wore a hat adorned with flowers and grass, and a geometric-patterned cloak. Her lips were painted red, and her face was pale, with black paint running across her forehead, eyes, and cheeks, creating a eerie impression.

There were also a few men with long braided hair. They all wore armor made of leather or bone, and their skin had a slightly brown hue, with low-set nosesa race never seen before in this part of the world.

Lastly, there was an elderly man who appeared so aged that his years were difficult to estimate. The old man had a long gash on his side and exclaimed, Ah, what a surprise!

Is this old man still alive?

Are these the barbarians from the west?

The west? But in the west

Beyond the Plateau and Mitelgant, vast plains are said to stretch. Ive heard that the barbarians who live there dress like this.

Ignoring the conversation between Luke and Grania, I approached the wheezing old man.

The old man leaned against a small tree, blood oozing from his mouth, and a wound on his side. Although the sight of him attempting to hold back his exposed intestines with his bloody hands was utterly gruesome, his eyes burned with determination. Black tattoos covered his wrinkled and sagging skin, and he wore a flamboyant hat.

The reason I had stopped was that the hat was an item I had frequently encountered while playing Dark World.

The Warbonnet, a combat hat adorned with long feathers.

Despite its owners dire condition, the hat retained its vibrant colors and dignity.

But whywhy was this dying old man wearing it?

The old man gazed up at me with wrinkled eyes and spoke.

Are you a bandit too?

As I heard those words, a strange sensation washed over my mind. Although it was a language I had never heard before, I somehow comprehended it.

This must be the Gellant Language.

No, Im a mercenary.

A mercenary?

Yes, Im on a mission to protect the city from bandits.

Suddenly, Randel, who had followed me, spoke anxiously.

I dont understand what youre saying, but we need to hurry; its already too late for him.

Just a moment, please wait. I hurriedly inquired of the old man.

Is that hat originally yours?

Heh, of course.

The old man let out a few raspy coughs and closed his eyes.

Who else would own this item, if not Hatanca of Rikuwa?

Hatanca of Rikuwa? This old man?

Theres no way. The name Hatanca is definitely

Aqun-ta!

A roar erupted not far away, so intense it could be mistaken for thunder.

The group unconsciously hunched their shoulders, and I turned to look at the source of the voice. My mouth dropped open.

The Hatanca I knew was there.