Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 14.1 - Chapter 4.07

7. Rain

Torrential rain, that was what this was.

The hardened earth of the path through the mountains had been turned into a quagmire by heavy rain.

When he’d looked at the four orcs collapsed in that quagmire, he never would have thought that could just as easily have been him.

“Hahh... Hahh... Hahh...! Hahh...!”

His shoulders heaving with each breath, clutching his bloody katana, Ranta looked in every direction. Nothing was moving.

Or at least I don’t think so. Not that I could tell in this rain. Nah, there’s nothing. I took out our pursuers. For now, at least.

“Wezel! You okay?!” he shouted.

“...Yeah.”

The voice he heard through the rain sounded awfully hoarse.

Looking over, Ranta saw that Wezel was down on one knee, grasping his left arm with his right hand.

Yeah, I thought so. Blood. He’s bleeding badly. That’s a lot of blood. Though, that said, it’s just a deep cut to his left arm. He’s not gonna die from it.

“Damn it!” Ranta sat down on a dead orc’s belly. “The four of them were all skilled. What were they screwing around with us like this for? No... They weren’t screwing around. These guys were serious. It was still easy, though. Because, hey, I’m just that great. But if I hadn’t been me, those guys would’ve been bad news. Seriously.”

Wezel was treating his wounds with his shaman powers. He’d be done soon.

“They’ve really got it out for you, huh, Wezel?” Ranta asked.

“I was asked, and without causing suffering, I saved them,” Wezel said. “Many times. Now... I do not even remember who requested it.”

“You liar,” Ranta snorted. “I’m sure you know, you’re just playing ignorant. Someone important out there ordered these goons to watch you. There were people in their way... political opponents, maybe? You finished them off. Am I wrong?”

“...Who knows.”

“I’ll bet I’m right. You’re hated by the families of the people you killed. This guy, the one pulling the strings, he wants to shut you up, too. For this set of pursuers, well, I’d give you nine out of ten odds that’s what they were.”

“You... are a talkative man.”

“I acknowledge that,” Ranta shrugged. “Keeping quiet when there’s something I want to say doesn’t suit me.”

Ranta thrust his katana into the ground nearby, and shifted his mask up to his forehead. His exposed face was doused with rain. He rubbed it hard with both hands.

“Oh!” He got up from on top of the orc corpse. “Sorry, man. You just happened to be in a good spot. No hard feelings, okay? You lost, I won. That means you don’t get to complain.”

While he was chatting with a corpse, Wezel went off somewhere else. When Ranta looked over, the elf was walking far off in the distance.

“Heeeey!” Ranta yelled.

If you’re going, say something! he thought indignantly. Actually, he had said as much a number of times, but it had always fallen on deaf ears.

Ranta returned his mask to its usual position, then chased after Wezel.

“Wezel. Wezelred!”

“...What?” the gray elf asked.

“It’s about time you told me,” Ranta said, catching up. “Where are you going, and what do you plan to do?”

“Once you know, what will you do?”

“I won’t do anything. I just want to know your heart. That’s why I’m asking.”

“My heart...” Wezel shook his head. For a moment, his feet wavered just the slightest bit, but that was all.

The silent treatment, huh?

Wezel kept walking. He was going down the mountain.

The intense rain didn’t let up. Was rain really a thing that could come down like this? Was it fine, falling so much? If too much fell, wouldn’t all the moisture be sucked out of the sky? What would they do if the sky ended up all dry?

“This is the point where I start wondering about stupid nonsense, huh?” Ranta muttered.

He was at his limit.

On the side of the path, which had turned into such muck that there was hardly any trace of it left, there was the opening to a cave.

“Wezel!” Ranta grabbed the elf by the arm, then pulled him towards the cave. “The rain’s awful. It’s not going to be letting up any time soon, either. Let’s take shelter here.”

Wezel sat down in silence. Seeing the way he sat down without resisting, this guy must have been exhausted, too.

Of course he was. How could he not be?

Ranta took off his cloak and wrung the water out of it. No matter how he squeezed, it kept dripping. Then, suddenly...

“It’s the Shadow Forest,” Wezel revealed.

“...Huh? The Shadow Forest—wait, you mean that place? The one where the elves live...”

“The forest city, Arnotu. Our homeland.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ranta said. “So, you gray elves moved out of Arnotu in the Shadow Forest, and migrated to the Broken Valley?”

“Of the elves, roughly half of them left the forest,” Wezel told him. “They sided with the No-Life King.”

“Then, to the elves of the Shadow Forest, wouldn’t that make a gray elf like you a traitor?”

“It was not exactly a betrayal. Those with a different opinion left the village.”

“But you fought in opposing camps, right? To say that’s just water under the bridge... well, it’s usually not that easy.” Ranta laid down his still-drenched cloak, and sat on top of it.

He was feeling weak. He’d taken a pummeling from the rain, then up and murdered four battle-hardened orcs that had been pursuing them. Even the great Ranta was gonna feel tired after all that.

That was why. No other reason. He tried to convince himself of that.

“I mean, even if there were circumstances, you guys did fight once,” Ranta went on.

“I was born in the Broken Valley,” said Wezel. “I did not choose to leave the forest myself.”

“Oh, yeah? That makes sense. You’re not like me, then.”

With a heh, Ranta removed his mask. He shook his head like a dog. The way that sent water droplets flying everywhere was a good way of helping him get into a new frame of mind.

“So?” he said. “You’re going to the Shadow Forest, and you’re going to do what? Do you have distant relatives there or something?”

Wezel hung his head. “I have an acquaintance.”

“A gray elf like you wouldn’t be welcome in the Shadow Forest, right? Did you meet them somewhere else?”

“Well, yes.”

“You met this acquaintance, then parted ways,” Ranta summarized for him. “They went back to the Shadow Forest. You’re going out of your way to meet them, so I take it you want more than to just see their face, yeah?”

“I must tell that person.”

“Tell them what?”

“Danger is coming.”

Ranta paused. “To the Shadow Forest?”

Wezel had been saying that the former capital of the Kingdom of Arabakia, Rhodekia, now known as Grozdendahl, was a stronghold for the forces of the alliance.

Could it be that the allied forces meant to march on the Shadow Forest?

“The undead and the orcs, they’re about to kick off another war,” Ranta surmised. “Is that what this is about?”

“Do not misunderstand. The ones who started the fire were the humans.”

“If the guys from the Kingdom of Arabakia, who fled to the other side of the Tenryu Mountains, hadn’t come back and built Alterna, it would have ended there.” Ranta nodded. “Fair enough. If we’re looking at it from your perspective, that’s how it is.”

“Humans... oppressed and exploited the orcs and goblins,” Wezel told him. “You were given your comeuppance once. Though... the races that built the Undying Empire, too... were unable to overcome their discord. Even within the same race, there was enmity, conflict. We gray elves could not become a monolith, either. Because there is more than one of us...”

“You’re unusually talkative,” Ranta commented.

“You are ignorant. I am teaching you.”

“Thanks, Wezelred. The truth is, there’s too much we don’t know.”

It wasn’t just Ranta. The vast majority of volunteer soldiers threw themselves into battle without sufficient information. They were led to believe they couldn’t live without fighting. Then, soon enough, they got used to the fighting, and couldn’t think properly about anything else.

“This acquaintance of yours, I bet she’s a woman,” Ranta smirked.

Wezel did not answer. But it was totally a woman.

“Do you have to tell her in a hurry?” Ranta asked.

“It should be done as soon as possible.”

Things were starting to make sense.

Wezel hardly ever rested. Ranta had wondered if he was fine without rest, so he didn’t need to. But that wasn’t it.

Ranta donned the mask, wrapping himself in the still-wet cloak.

“Guess we’re going, then.”