Black Badger

The mountain where the sunset had begun to settle.

In the place where the trees cast their shadows, the spider-hound’s eyes gleamed ominously.

Gale did not take his gaze off it.

The clueless child sucked in a breath and tugged at the hem of his pants.

“There’s a lot of them.”

Hildebert spoke in a startled voice.

“There’s more than one.”

Gale didn’t respond.

He had no intention of indulging this brat’s chatter now or ever.

That thing would leap any moment.

Gale stopped paying attention to the monsters trailing behind the spider-hound. Those creatures were only dangerous to swordsmen who couldn’t even release a proper slash. At best, they were spectators to the fight—things that would scatter and go chew on some stupid sheep.

The spider-hound lowered its body...

“The sheep!”

The moment it kicked off the ground, Hildebert shouted.

“Tucci!”

BOOOOM!

Gale unleashed a slash.

The long arc of his strike surged forward, crashing into the monsters spilling out from the darkness of the trees—and swept away far more than just his intended target. The creatures that had been trying to seize the sheep were shredded to pieces.

Blood and flesh exploded.

All except the spider-hound.

The spider-hound leapt over Gale’s slash. Gale had no time to feel insulted. The many-legged creature had already opened its maw, lunging to tear off his nose.

Gale snapped his outstretched right arm back.

CLANG!

“Shit!”

Gale spat a curse.

“Damn leg...!”

He couldn’t put proper strength into his injured leg.

So the blade only managed to shove the spider-hound’s jaws aside. He should have split that mouth in two and killed it.

The spider-hound, knocked back by the blade, landed lightly—and immediately sprang at him again.

With four legs, it kicked off the ground and soared high.

Gale swung again, fast.

Grrrk!

“Disgusting beast.”

He cut its skin.

But not deep enough. The hide was too tough.

“You should’ve died with your master...!”

Grr! Grr!

CLANG! His sword struck, but its fangs blocked it. The shock traveled up his arm and into his body. Gale pulled his blade back, disappointed in himself for failing to kill something like this in one strike.

He raised the sword vertically—

and drove it into the ground.

THUD!

The slash tore through the earth and surged forward.

KRRRRAAANG!

Thankfully, this time it struck true. The spider-hound shrieked as it split, blood spraying out.

Darker than the sunset, so red it looked black.

Even as it drenched the surroundings in that liquid, the monster did not fall.

Just like its former master. Filthy bastard.

It should have been torn apart before the war even began.

But Gale missed his chance to press in. The moment he tried to rush the wounded spider-hound, monsters rained down from the sky.

RATATATAT!

Gale didn’t even bother to curse—he just swung.

The airborne creatures were cut clean in two. Their severed bodies fluttered and dropped to the ground.

And then—

his main target was gone.

What?

Gale twisted his head, following the pull of his instincts.

Where did it go?

“Kid!”

he shouted.

“Run!”

The spider-hound had changed targets.

Since Gale wasn’t an easy opponent, it had decided to go for the smaller human instead. Blood dripping from its body, it turned its head and prepared to leap up the slope.

Gale saw who stood at the end of its gaze—and ground his teeth.

Hildebert was fending off monsters crawling out between the trees.

The kid was throwing stones.

Behind him, a sheep with an injured leg had collapsed.

He should just abandon it and run.

Why the hell was he trying to protect that one thing?

But the stupid temple brat, eyes brimming with tears, kept throwing stones with all his strength.

It seemed he hadn’t even heard Gale’s shout.

“Hildebert!”

Gale shouted the moment the spider-hound lunged.

“Look up!”

Hildebert raised his head.

Gale couldn’t send a slash. He wasn’t confident he could avoid hitting the kid.

He ran after the spider-hound—but he knew he couldn’t catch it. Even with a healthy leg, he wouldn’t outrun it. With his injured one? Impossible.

All Gale could do was desperately hope—

that Hildebert would survive the first strike.

If that kid dies, there’s no meaning to me coming all this way.

Grrrk!

The spider-hound leapt.

Gale ran, teeth clenched, eyes locked on Hildebert and the monster.

The child who had spotted it—

and the beast rushing to tear out his throat.

The boy’s eyes widened.

THUD!

“Run!”

Hildebert threw himself sideways, barely avoiding the attack.

“I said run!”

He didn’t.

More precisely, just before running, the kid looked at the spider-hound—and realized it had turned its focus away from him, toward the sheep and Gale.

The boy grabbed a stone—

and charged.

THUD!

Hildebert smashed the stone into the spider-hound’s eye.

The beast’s leg slammed into his chest. The boy choked and tumbled down the slope.

“Kegh, kegh!”

He was coughing. Not dead.

Stupid move.

But it created an opening.

Gale didn’t lecture him.

Instead, he raised his sword.

“Filthy beast.”

Now, the spider-hound’s neck was right in front of him.

“You look away from me?”

A smile spread across his face.

Thrust.

It went in clean.

A worn, battle-hardened mercenary like Gale could feel it—the moment he severed a life. It always traveled through the blade into his body.

Blood burst from the wound.

The growling faded. The light drained from the spider-hound’s eyes.

Gale tightened his grip and slowly pulled the blade free.

Sccchhk...

“I’m sick of the past crawling back.”

He muttered darkly as he withdrew the bloodied sword.

“Get out of my life.”

Red blood dripped to the ground.

“For a moment, I was free from it. Good enough to almost forget the sword.”

The spider-hound did not respond.

Its fading eyes stared blankly at the sky.

That empty silence satisfied him.

Thud.

The corpse collapsed.

Silence slowly settled in.

Breaking it—

a shepherd dog barked anxiously as it ran toward the child.

Gale stood there, staring at the corpse for a long time.

***

“Mister!”

He wasn’t injured.

Even with a bad leg, if he’d been hurt by something like that, Gale would’ve wanted to die from humiliation.

“Teach me too!”

The one who got hurt was that kid.

Not seriously. Honestly, Gale hadn’t even considered checking the injury before seeing how the priests reacted.

He’d grown up taking hits far worse than a kick from a spider-hound.

That? It’d heal after a few nights’ sleep.

No need to make a fuss—

“Teach me the sword too!”

“Hilde!”

Priest Mar shouted sharply as Hilde ran toward Gale.

“Your treatment isn’t finished!”

The boy immediately drooped.

Gale crossed his arms, leaning against the temple wall, watching the white-haired child return to the priests.

The pale-faced priests applied unfamiliar medicine to his chest.

Ever since returning, they’d been like that.

Panicking over the slightest thing happening to that brat.

Gale had enough manners not to mock them outright. Still, as they crowded around the child—checking, treating, fussing—he pressed his lips tight.

At least no one blamed him.

Eventually, after all their excessive fussing, Hildebert was released.

The people gathered in the temple dispersed.

But instead of going to rest as instructed, the boy ran straight back to Gale.

“Mister!”

Hildebert hurried after him as Gale turned and headed toward the barn.

“Thank you for defeating the monsters!”

You already said that a dozen times.

Gale kept walking without turning back.

Once he found the location of the moonlight mushrooms, he planned to leave this place immediately.

“I’m glad Tucci is ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ safe.”

Hildebert chattered on as he followed.

“He’s old, so if he gets hurt, it’s hard for him to recover. I’ve seen those dangerous monsters before, but I’ve never seen this many gather at once.”

Dragging his tired leg, Gale entered the barn.

Hildebert followed him all the way.

“That thing that came out of your sword was really cool!”

The boy jumped up and down behind him.

“If I get strong like you, Mister, can I protect the sheep, Tucci, and the priests?”

No.

Even if you were picked up by priests by chance—even if you carry some unknown surname someone left behind—

you’re still just a worthless commoner of the Empire.

A commoner’s life is fragile.

It can be crushed at any moment by a noble’s whim.

Yes, if you master exceptional swordsmanship, a path might open.

But even then, you’ll be looked down on by noble-born knights your entire life—and die nameless on some battlefield.

Gale had seen many like that.

So dreaming of protecting everything—

was foolish from the start.

He thought it.

But he didn’t say it.

“Kid.”

“Yes?”

Instead, the moment they entered the barn, he turned to face him.

“What?”

“...Knight Mister—no... Sir Knight?”

Gale’s face twisted instantly.

“I’m not a knight.”

He growled.

“You live in a temple and still can’t tell the difference?”

“...Sorry.”

Hildebert shrank back.

The boy lowered his head, then glanced up cautiously.

“Then... what are you?”

Gale opened his mouth—

then closed it again.

Whatever.

Getting irritated at this brat was already exhausting.

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then let out a long sigh.

“A mercenary.”

“A mercenary?”

“Where did you pick the moonlight mushrooms?”

Gale wanted to finish this quickly and leave.

“You know where they grow.”

Hildebert’s face immediately brightened.

The boy rummaged eagerly through the pouch he had changed into after returning.

Gale watched, indifferent, as the kid pulled something out.

Hildebert finally looked up.

Holding something in his hand.

“I protected the crown mushroom you liked!”

The kid suddenly said something incomprehensible.

“You really liked the roasted ones. The ones you had around your neck got crushed, but this one survived!”

He held up a large mushroom.

Why it was called a crown mushroom, Gale had no idea.

Sure, the cap was big—but that was it. It wasn’t gold or silver. Just white. It didn’t even look like a crown.

Why call it that?

Gale stared at the mushroom.

Unlike moonlight mushrooms, this one would sell for almost nothing.

Hildebert grinned, holding it up like a royal scepter.

“I’ll cook it for you today!”

The boy stood on tiptoe.

“I protected it just for you.”

“Protected what?”

“I did! I curled up so it wouldn’t get crushed when I rolled!”

Hildebert smiled brightly.

“You like this one the most, don’t you?”

At that moment—

Gale decided to stay longer.

And he did.

Much longer than he had expected.

Later, he would often think back to that moment—

and try to understand why he made that decision.

Maybe it was because he recognized the kid’s talent.

Even while being kicked around by a spider-hound, he had protected the mushroom he was carrying.

That wasn’t easy.

Honestly, even Gale wasn’t sure he could’ve done it.

Rolling across the ground—

and still thinking about the mushroom?

Gale knew how important talent was.

And he knew he didn’t have enough of it himself.

Maybe that’s why he wanted to watch someone who did.

“Hildebert.”

In the end, Gale never regretted that decision.

“Tell me about the moonlight mushrooms.”

Even though that was what he said back then.

Every time he looked back, it seemed like an absurd decision—

yet he always thought it was the right one.

Just like the priests had picked up the child—

he felt like he had been picked up by Hildebert.

He never came to believe in the World Tree like Hildebert did.

But still—

through that temple child, for the first time in his life,

Gale felt something like a blessing.

And learned, at last,

what peace and happiness were.