Chapter 251 - Unexpected Fortune

To the wild horse, the flaming skeleton was an unmanageable threat.

That was why it sought help.

And now, as fate would have it, the flaming skeleton was out of luck.

Fwoooosh!

A trident engulfed in flames in hand, with skeletal hounds and soldiers lined up behind it.

Thirteen in total.

Twelve, if the flaming skeleton itself wasn't counted.

"Corrupt and twisted."

This was part of their misfortune.

There was a devout soldier who couldn't help but react violently at the sight of undead.

Fwoosh!

The flaming trident came down, and Audin deflected it with his palm.

Flames briefly licked his hand, but Audin swung his arm in the air.

Whoosh!

The sound of wind accompanied his swing, and the fire on his hand extinguished, vanishing into thin air.

It wasn't magic, but rather a feat of physical power and speed.

After diverting the flaming trident, Audin began smashing the approaching skeletons.

A single punch turned a skeleton's skull into shattered fragments.

The skull broke into roughly sixteen pieces, scattering everywhere.

"…That brute."

Even Rem was impressed by Audin's skill at extinguishing flames.

Audin continued to crush every skeleton he encountered. He smashed skulls, shattered ribs, and even grabbed a skeleton soldier's spine, ripping it out and swinging it like a club to destroy a skeletal hound's skull.

The flaming skeleton raised its trident high, aiming for Audin's back.

Ragna, who had been observing, suddenly stepped forward.

With a single step, he unsheathed his sword and twisted his waist to swing.

A mid-sword-draw slash.

Ragna's blade sliced cleanly through the skeleton's neck.

Its severed head fell to the ground, and as it fell, the flames around it disappeared.

What remained was a charred, blackened skull rolling amidst vines and short grass.

The skull came to rest against a jagged rock.

Even without its head, the flaming skeleton continued to flail its arms and legs.

"What a nuisance."

Rem stepped forward, using his axe to dismantle the flaming skeleton's limbs.He chopped, kicked, and broke it apart.

The skeleton resisted, swinging its trident in a wide arc, as if in defiance.

Despite being mere bones, its strength was formidable.

Rem dodged the swings with a slight tilt of his head, then swung his axe upward from below.

The axe blade gleamed as it severed the skeleton's elbow joint, sending the trident flying through the air.

The trident spun wildly, scattering embers.

Enkrid shielded his eyes from the flying sparks with the back of his hand but instinctively reached out.

The trident was falling straight toward him.

He had two choices: dodge or catch it.

The trident seemed to carry a will of its own, as if intentionally flying toward him.

Trusting his intuition, Enkrid chose not to dodge and caught it.

If it became too hot, he could always drop it or throw it away.

He was confident he could do all this in an instant.

Noticing that the flames on the trident didn't spread to the surroundings, he calculated that the fire wasn't the kind to burn indiscriminately.

Of course, all these calculations were instinctual.

Relying on his gut, Enkrid grabbed the trident without hesitation.

Fwoosh! Thud!

Surprisingly, it wasn't as hot as he expected. It wasn't scalding enough to make him drop it.

Instead of heat, he heard a voice.

"Burn!"

"Turn to ash!"

"Be consumed by fire!"

"Die in flames!"

In an instant, the life of a man bound to a cross-shaped stake and burned to death flashed through his mind.

A man had been burned alive, accused of practicing magic. There had been betrayal by ignorant villagers and a lord who orchestrated it all.

Was it a curse? No, it was something slightly different.

"It's similar to the sword Fel wields," Enkrid thought.

It was a lingering grudge. That grudge had been infused into the weapon. The grudge that led to death transformed into human will.

It resembled the concept of Will.

Enkrid reflected on the man's life, accepted his will—

And rejected it.

He refused to burn to death.

The trident's curse dissipated, its grudge vanishing completely.

Through sheer strength of will, the trident had been purified.

Fwoosh! The flames on the trident extinguished abruptly.

It was as if it had been dunked in cold water.

Though oddly, no steam rose from it.

In a sudden, almost anticlimactic moment, the flames simply went out.

What on earth was happening?

Audin was the only one who understood the full context of the situation.

From the beginning, he recognized that the weapon was forged from deep grudges and resentment. He also understood that the flames seemingly engulfing the skeleton originated from the weapon itself.

Audin had intended to both subdue and purify it, knowing it would require him to endure immense pain due to the divine energy he would have to unleash.

Using divine power came with excruciating agony because of a restriction placed on him, but the weapon was too dangerous to leave unattended.

"I might pass out," he thought. Purifying such a strong grudge might indeed take a toll on him, and enduring pain was not something entirely within his control.

The ones who imposed the restriction on Audin had intended to render him completely incapable of using divine power, but Audin had chosen to defy them.

So, he had resigned himself to the potential consequences, even if it meant fainting. In the meantime, he focused on handling other malevolent threats first.

Yet, before he could act, Enkrid grabbed the trident, and the flames abruptly extinguished with a fwoosh.

By then, the entire horde of skeletons had been dealt with.

Theresa crushed a skull lying on the ground with her foot. The sound of bones crunching echoed in the sudden silence.

Even the wild horse fell quiet, observing the scene.

Amidst this stillness, it was Rem's voice that broke the silence.

"…Got sweaty palms, huh?"

Putting out flames with sweat from his hands? A ridiculous notion.

"Sometimes, your brain astounds me to no end," Jaxen commented with a hint of disbelief. As someone familiar with cursed artifacts, he couldn't see this outcome as "normal."

"What are you rambling about, you mad lynx?"

Rem turned to Enkrid with a questioning look, silently demanding an explanation.

"It said it wanted to burn me alive, so I said no."

Was that an explanation? Seriously?

Rem's incredulous expression sought confirmation from the others.

Ragna showed no interest, while Audin, already grasping the underlying principle, simply marveled.

"How long has it been since he discovered Will, and he's already this proficient?"

Audin couldn't help but be impressed.

"Well, it worked out, didn't it?" Jaxen remarked lightly. After all, when had anything Enkrid done ever been "normal"? Among this group, Jaxen was the only one who could claim to be remotely ordinary.

"Damn," Rem muttered, grabbing the trident. "Let me see that."

The lingering resentment within the trident reacted to Rem, attacking him with the same fiery curse: burn to death. Unlike with Enkrid, it didn't show him any visions, merely striking with its remaining malice.

But it was weak, a mere remnant of defiance.

For a moment, flames seemed to flicker in Rem's grasp before they abruptly fizzled out.

"Huh?"

Audin was surprised again. This time, it wasn't sheer willpower suppressing the curse.

"Looks like someone tampered with it. Can I use this?" Rem muttered, inspecting the weapon with a knowing expression. Enkrid didn't ask for details—what would be the point?

"Sure," he replied indifferently.

Having no particular attachment to weapons, Enkrid watched as Rem examined the trident carefully before chopping it in half with her axe.

With a dull thud, the weapon's handle was reduced to half its original length. Now, it resembled a hand axe, except for the sharp, spike-like tip at the end. While its weight distribution was suboptimal, it could still function as a makeshift weapon.

"If I add a counterweight to the end of the handle, it'll work."

Rem nodded in agreement with Enkrid's suggestion, appearing quite pleased with her modification.

"Feels like I just hit the jackpot."

He expressed her satisfaction, and Enkrid nodded in silent agreement.

To reiterate, the skeletons here were truly unfortunate.

Who were these people gathered here?

The Madmen Unit.

A group of brutal individuals capable of altering the course of any battlefield.

Enkrid sheathed his sword with a shing and turned to the horse.

"Is that all?"

The horse hesitated. What were these humans? The skeletons had been a major threat!

Then again, this was the same human who had plunged a blade into the skull of that fearsome centaur.

The horse eventually nodded in submission.

Neigh!

It let out a cry of joy.

"Good."

Enkrid moved forward, scanning the area. Whose graveyard was this? It didn't seem to belong to the impoverished, that much was clear. So what was it? The flaming trident and skeletons couldn't possibly be all there was.

Due to the skeletons and wild horses, there were no signs of grave robbers having visited.

"Should we dig?"

Enkrid suggested digging around the area, particularly near what appeared to be remnants of walls.

"There are a few chests inside," Jaxen replied.

So that's what Jaxen had been up to while avoiding the fight—scouting the area.

"Typical sneaky wildcat," Rem remarked, half-praising him.

Jaxen ignored him as usual, and the group began heading inside.

The terrain was rough, likely from rain eroding the ground, snow melting, and drying under the sun. Sharp rocks protruding from the ground resembled natural traps.

Not that any of it posed a problem for this group.

"Let me show you something interesting."

Rem paused mid-stride and swung his axe at the air.

Whoosh.

First, from top to bottom, then a second swing upward.

The second swing was different.

Fwoosh!

Flames ignited along the blade of the axe.

"Fire Axe Rem. How does that sound? My new nickname?"

Fiddling with it for a while, it seemed he had figured out how to use it.

"Sure."

Enkrid nodded calmly. If he fought with that thing, he'd probably go from being a crazy axeman to a crazy fire axeman.

Of course, he didn't say it aloud. People always needed some encouragement, after all.

"Heh, I like it. I like it a lot."

As long as he was satisfied, that was what mattered.

The group ignored him and continued deeper into the basin.

The terrain gradually became easier to walk on, leading them to a stable plain.

At the innermost point, the ground leveled out entirely.

A faint warm breeze blew from somewhere, and they saw a partially open chest.

Gentle warmth emanated from within.

"Thermal stone? The Sun God's Blessing? Oh Lord," Audin murmured.

Enkrid concluded that whoever had built this tomb had an excess of gold to spare.

"Pack it all up."

Enkrid issued the order.

Inside the chest, there wasn't a single silver coin—only gold. Alongside the coins were artifacts worthy of the name.

To start, there was the thermal stone referred to as the Sun God's Blessing, and a peculiar bandage that felt like metallic fabric.

"These are rare items," Jaxen remarked.

Coming from him—a man who typically reacted with indifference unless handling an assassin's custom-forged dagger—it was high praise.

Meaning it truly was a precious item.

Enkrid examined the thick, black bandage. It was about the width of a palm and not too long in length.

Enough to wrap tightly around a torso if necessary.

"This is made from the hide of a soft wild beast, treated through a special process, and designed to be worn as an inner garment. Think of it as a kind of under-armor," Jaxen explained.

Apart from that, there wasn't anything particularly noteworthy. A glowing stone was discovered, but since they all had excellent night vision, it didn't draw much attention.

Damaged boots and gloves were among the other items, as well as a few jewels and a journal.

The contents of the journal were unremarkable—filled with fanciful tales of flying on a Pegasus and other implausible adventures.

The writer had settled in this land, citing it as the hometown of a friend.

The journal concluded with lines that suggested a life without roots, endlessly wandering without a home.

A name was scrawled at the end, but then scratched out with charcoal.

Enkrid felt that the person buried here—the author of the journal—had expressed their fulfillment through that act of erasure.

The journal was filled with words that exuded a sense of achievement, marveling at the wonders of the world and the thrill of exploration.

Enkrid found himself recognizing a kindred spirit in those words.

A dreamer in pursuit of their aspirations.

However, this person had achieved their goal, found satisfaction, and chosen to settle in their friend's hometown. By erasing their name, they signified the end of their journey, a life fulfilled.

"Is that romantic, or just foolish?"

Romanticism and naivety often walked a fine line, after all.

A swordsmanship instructor had once said something similar.

Enkrid allowed himself a moment of reflection, drawing a parallel to his own life.

But it was just a fleeting thought, unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

The journal was kept; it struck a chord with him.

Meanwhile, Jaxen inspected the surrounding walls and mechanisms but found no hidden features.

There had been a time when he'd found himself trapped in such a place and obtained his current sword. But here, the sky above was open and unobstructed.

The unusual layout suggested it had been intentionally designed to reveal the sky, even before the ground had collapsed.

Perhaps this was why the chests and other contents had remained so well preserved.

Neigh.

The horse approached, and Enkrid placed a hand on its forehead.

"All done here?"

The sun was now setting, casting long shadows. Thanks to the thermal stone, the air wasn't cold.

It seemed this resting place had been designed as a refuge, with warmth emanating not only from the thermal stone but also from the remnants of the fiery skeletons.

Jaxen pointed out strange symbols carved on the walls.

"Such a perverse individual," Enkrid thought, recalling the journal.

The journal even explained the creation of the skeletons.

"Every adventure needs its challenges! Whoever finds this place should at least overcome this much! Then, enjoy my inheritance!"

As far as inheritances went, it was nothing extraordinary.

"Expensive, high-quality items, sure," Enkrid thought. "But where's the legendary artifact or holy relic?"

According to the journal, the rest of the adventurer's possessions had been scattered across the continent, given away here and there.

Oh, and apparently, this wasn't their only tomb.

"If you're a true explorer, find my other tombs too."

A strange man indeed, but Enkrid couldn't help but feel his heart race at the thought of such a passionate pursuit of a dream.

It was exhilarating.

"We'll rest here tonight and return tomorrow."

The tomb served well as a resting place. Its unseasonable warmth seemed to encourage repose.

The horse deserved some time to part with its herd, too.

"Sounds good," Rem agreed, seeming content.

In his left hand was the fire axe; in his right, the thermal stone.

The thermal bandage was also a valuable item, but just that single stone could warm an entire tent.

A high-ranking noble would pay a fortune for it.

But none of them were particularly concerned about money.

Enkrid had simply handed the stone to Rem, knowing how susceptible he was to the cold.

Ragna remained disinterested, Audin began his prayers, and Jaxen sat silently with his eyes closed.

Theresa and Dunbakel were equally indifferent to financial matters.

Their thoughts were preoccupied with their transformed lives and uncertain futures.

Night fell, and without a campfire, they lay beneath the open sky.

Starlight poured into the tomb, creating a breathtakingly surreal scene.

It was a night unlike any Enkrid had ever seen.

Lying under a blanket of stars, he felt the subtle warmth envelop him as he closed his eyes.

In his dreams, he met the Ferryman once again.

As always, the Ferryman mocked him, lacing his words with biting sarcasm.

"You really do keep the company of fools around."

Enkrid wondered if that was meant as a compliment.

The dream was fleeting.