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Chapter 3: Zenri

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The slap echoed loudly, so much so that even Zenri regretted it for a moment.

“Damn it, we’re already too close to enemy territory!”

Every time, things turned into a mess because of this guy.

“You think I don’t know? You slave! Planning to leave me behind, go off alone, behead the target, and return to base to take all the credit for yourself?”

Zenri lowered his voice again as he spoke.

“No, sir. I had no such intentions at all.”

Ram spoke humbly, bowing slightly, but Zenri wasn’t fooled.

How could he fall for such an obvious lie?

“I’m coming with you. That’s only natural. You do know you can’t even meet General Terdin without me, right?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“You couldn’t even borrow a sack without me.”

“That’s absolutely true.”

This foolish slave hadn’t realized until just before their departure that he would need a sack to carry the severed head.

Someone who claimed to have experience in such gruesome tasks should have considered the issue of blood loss.

Yet, after days of planning, it was only this evening that he brought it up.

“It’s not easy to cross enemy territory carrying a blood-dripping head. The enemies patrol with trained wolves, and their sense of smell is far superior to that of dogs. If it were just a matter of killing and escaping, it’d be one thing, but to bring back the head, we need a sealed leather pouch or something similar.”

A low-ranking soldier like Ram couldn’t easily obtain expensive leather.

He didn’t have the time to hunt and tan an animal just to get one.

Borrowing from those noble-born brats who weren’t even his comrades was unthinkable—assuming they even had such a thing.

Zenri had no choice but to go to the quartermaster and borrow a sack.

It was a humiliating experience for him.

To “ask” for something from someone of a much lower rank!

“After all I’ve done, shouldn’t you have taken care of the rest? For three—no, four days…”

Was it three days?

Whatever!

“…you’ve been scouting the area, but you still haven’t ensured our safety? Haven’t you done this kind of thing countless times under your father?”

By now, he should have gotten the point, but the man kept responding with irrelevant remarks.

“I’m good at killing, sir. So much so that I’ve never failed.”

“And? You’re bad at carrying heads out, then?”

“I’m good at that too. I can make it look like nothing ever happened, hide corpses discreetly, or even arrange them in conspicuous ways if needed.”

“Then what are you so bad at that this is an issue?”

“It’s difficult to protect you, sir. More precisely, it’s hard to get you inside, complete the task, and get you back out safely.”

“You should have investigated this!”

“Yes, sir. I did thoroughly investigate over the past three days, but there might still be some unforeseen variables. I’ll definitely bring back Mantum’s head. So please, sir, if you could just…”

Ram trailed off.

Zenri quickly grasped what he truly meant.

He was lying.

No matter how he thought about it, it had to be a lie.

Getting here had been easy enough.

What difficulty could possibly lie ahead?

Even in their own camp, movement was prohibited at night.

Running into patrols and explaining oneself would be a hassle, so they had to avoid them.

Yet, up until now, it hadn’t been a problem.

If Ram hadn’t dawdled along the way, stopping unnecessarily even when no one was around, they could have arrived much faster.

Once they moved out of the torchlight’s reach, it became even easier.

Getting to the stream felt no different from a nighttime stroll.

And now, he was suggesting Zenri wait here?

Cowardice.

Pure cowardice.

“Let me make it clear once again. Bringing back Mantum’s head is my responsibility.”

“Understood, sir.”

“If you understand, find a way to cross this stream.”

Ram lowered his head and began scanning the area.

Zenri let out a sigh.

Slaves only worked when treated like this.

“When I inherit the title of lord, I’ll fill my castle with smarter slaves.”

After a while, Ram found a sturdy branch, barely thick enough to support one person.

“Please hang onto this. I’ll swim and pull it across.”

“With something this small? It won’t even hold the weight of my armor.”

“You’re right, sir. That’s why it’d be best to remove the armor.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“My apologies.”

“Why in the world did my father insist on bringing you along?”

Zenri sighed again.

He didn’t want to waste any more time.

His father always said, A smart man’s life is inevitably wasted dealing with the stupid people around him.

“If things don’t go as you say, you’ll pay for it! And you’d better come back here. This armor is worth more than a hundred slaves like you. Most importantly, the family crest engraved on it must never be tarnished. Do you understand what that means?”

Zenri raised his voice irritably as he removed his armor.

His voice echoed loudly through the quiet surroundings of the stream.

“I don’t know if a slave like you can even comprehend my words, but try your best to understand. Got it?”

“I’ll do my best to understand, sir.”

Ram bowed low, as if that were the only skill he had.

As Zenri removed his armor, his body began to tremble.

His noble, thick belly quivered, making the trembling feel even worse.

He was thankful for the darkness; the scabs covering his acne-ridden body weren’t visible.

Showing his body to someone like Ram was utterly revolting.

The two of them plunged into the water.

The water was deathly cold.

It was still autumn, but this wretched northern land felt as frigid as midwinter.

Zenri clung tightly to the log and wanted to warn the other man not to let him slip, or else he’d pay dearly.

He also wanted to urge him to hurry across because of the cold.

But with the water rising to his lips, he couldn’t utter a word.

Slaves tend to move faster when you urge them or lash them with a whip, but that wasn’t an option here.

Perhaps that was why Ram took his sweet time crossing the stream.

Zenri began to wonder if Ram might leave him to freeze to death.

Fortunately, Zenri managed to make it out of the water before that could happen.

As soon as he emerged, a string of curses escaped his lips.

“Damn it! I thought I was going to freeze to death!”

“Are you all right?”

“I just remembered! This stream has a shallow section you can walk across, doesn’t it? Why did we come here?”

Ram had the audacity to press a finger to his lips.

“Master, from here on, even your breathing must be silent. The Geron people have exceptional hearing. Their wolves are even better at detecting sound.”

“Shut up. Go on, explain yourself.”

“The shallow sections are heavily patrolled. Both our forces and theirs have many soldiers there. This area is the only place without patrols.”

Ram scooped up a handful of mud from the streambed.

“There’s no time. Quickly, spread this on your body. There are wolves roaming around, and to mask your scent, you’ll need to use this.”

“Wolves? Wolves? You didn’t mention wolves before!”

Wait, had he mentioned it before?

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No, that wasn’t the issue.

The important thing was that Zenri had forgotten if he had.

“Why are you telling me something this important only now?”

“…I apologize. The Gerons train wolves to act like hunting dogs. That’s why to mask your scent, you’ll need—”

“You mean to smear me with mud? My body doesn’t emit any smell! That’s something that comes from lowly people like you!”

“That’s not it, but wolves’ sense of smell is—”

“Oh, I see what you’re up to. You’re using this as an excuse to defile me, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not, Master. I would never—”

“If something happens, you just protect me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? I’m going as I am.”

“Understood.”

Ram started smearing mud all over himself.

Zenri watched him, then asked cautiously,

“Can the wolves really pick up my scent and track me?”

“Yes. And the mud will also help keep out some of the cold.”

Reluctantly, Zenri scooped up a bit of mud and spread it on his cheeks—about two spoonfuls on each side.

He dabbed a bit on the back of his hands and a small amount on the back of his neck.

It felt disgusting.

He couldn’t bear to apply any more.

“This should be enough, right?”

Ram stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding.

Ugh, this infuriating man!

He couldn’t even answer quickly!

“Follow me carefully, Master.”

Ram led the way across the field.

The journey was longer than expected.

Being soaked made the cold even worse.

Zenri began to think he might freeze to death before encountering the Gerons and meeting an honorable death in battle.

Ram kept stopping and starting, moving erratically.

“When are we going to get there? Can’t you move faster?”

The cold made Zenri impatient.

He wished he had a whip—slaves only moved faster when whipped!

Finally, Ram slowed his pace and came to a complete stop.

Was he really planning to let Zenri freeze to death here?

“We’re here. That tent over there is Mantum’s quarters. I’ll go in and cut off his head. Please wait here.”

Zenri didn’t object to that.

He was too exhausted.

“How long will it take?”

“That depends on how the patrols move.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“I’ll return as quickly as I can. Whatever you do, don’t step out of the bushes.”

Ram left Zenri and slipped into the enemy camp.

For a moment, Zenri stayed hidden among the bushes, but he couldn’t resist peeking out to make sure Ram was actually heading into the enemy’s stronghold.

What if he was pretending to go but actually planned to escape elsewhere?

Slaves were always looking for chances to run away, so their masters had to stay vigilant!

Ram stopped, turned around, and spotted Zenri.

He gestured for Zenri to lie down.

Zenri, annoyed, gestured back, telling him to just go already.

Ram hesitated for a moment, then motioned again.

Finally, he turned and continued into the enemy camp.

Ugh, so frustrating!

Only after Ram’s figure disappeared entirely into the darkness did Zenri lie flat in the bushes.

The cold ground sent a chill through his belly, but he had no choice if he wanted to shield himself from the wind.

Time crawled by.

Could Ram really pull it off?

Had he run away?

It was entirely possible.

Slaves were always looking for ways to betray their masters.

Maybe Ram had figured out “that thing” and was plotting revenge.

What would Zenri do if that were the case?

What else?

He wouldn’t let him get away with it!

He’d torture him for three days straight and give him the most gruesome death imaginable.

Father would surely help—Father knew hundreds of ways to inflict pain.

A rustling sound came from behind.

Zenri sighed and got up.

“You’re so damn slow. What took you so long—”

It wasn’t Ram.

It was a wolf.

Zenri had always thought wolves were just slightly bigger, slightly more temperamental dogs.

He assumed he could kill one by cutting its throat with a small knife or, if worse came to worst, choking it to death with his bare hands.

But this wolf was twice his size.

In the darkness, it seemed three times bigger.

It was enormous.

Too enormous.

Were wolves always this big?

“What?”

Zenri could only let out a startled exclamation.

Without a growl or a roar, the wolf lunged at him.

Zenri’s body lifted into the air like a rag doll and slammed back to the ground.

After that, Zenri could think no more.

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