Acts speak louder than words

Chapter 35: Acts speak louder than words

Because Wolfgang's addition to Bryce's team didn't provide any means of faster transport, the adventure to the big city continued at the same pace. At least that's what both of them thought, but in reality, Bryce and Wolfgang kept training with a stupid rivalry in mind.

When Bryce did fifty push-ups, Wolfgang upped the game and did sixty. When the werewolf cleft the air with his black claws one hundred times, the vampire's sword slashed through at least one hundred and ten. To every part of their training, no matter how vastly different it was, they kept adding rivalry, not wanting to be worse.

It was the worst when they sparred, though.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Everything simply crumbled in the vicinity. Fortunately, they were still in the wilderness, surrounded by trees, so only nature was hurt, and nothing seemed to threaten the lives of these two young rivals.

And as the world was vast and magical, nature would soon mend itself, at least that was what Wolfgang said!

Nowadays, being the sanest out of everyone, Gengo spent chilling days under safe trees, biting on Bryce's socks or boots his owner had received from the village. He naturally didn't laze, too, but he wasn't a maniac who could only think of training and improving himself.

For example, Gengo spent some time admiring nature. But for some reason, he often did it alongside eating stones or chewing on Bryce's stuff. Having a good time, Gengo focused on his desires, and when he thought of a nap, his ears suddenly twitched, and he went into hunter mode!

His senses expanded and silently wrapped on something not too far away.

Gengo barked! Bryce, he shouted.

Feeling his best friend's need for attention, Bryce stopped the spar and rushed to his side. When Gengo barked a few times, telling him about the sound and origin of it he'd found just now, Bryce inferred that his friend had spotted some humans or maybe other races.

Wolfgang corrected him, "He found out about something moving far, probably a carriage."

Bryce turned his eyes to his new buddy, "You two can really understand each other."

"Yeah," Wolfgang crossed his arms, an asinine action as his hands turned numb, and teased with his chin high, "Jealous?"

"I am, but it's great stuff, actually," Bryce replied without hiding his feelings, then attacked back, "I know where to hire a translator from now. If you are able to keep up with us, I'll contract you for a few years."

"It'll be me letting you follow my tail-" Wolfgang naturally wouldn't stand back from some banter, but as Gengo growled, telling them about the urgency behind his finding, the duo stopped and seriously took the matter into their hands.

But their hands ached for some help, and that was what they had to take care of first.

Bryce fished out a Stasia Flower, then rubbed it quickly and strongly. Wolfgang mimicked him, already used to the effects of this awesome flower. After treatment and anesthesia effects kicked in, their hands became free of pain but were still heavy and hard to move.

Nonetheless, that wouldn't stop them from protecting themselves or going all out.

Gengo barked, confirming their status, then led the party toward the carriage.

"Can't you also sense them?" Bryce asked, half-serious, and as much as Wolfgang didn't like questions, he tolerated those from his friends and relatives.

Wolfgang snarled, his face contorted, "You know you'd get crucified if vampires learned that their half-breed has worse instincts than a dog? Your friend is clearly not normal to find them before us."

Bryce smiled and patted Gengo's head, who was naturally in high spirits; his tongue lolled out, ecstatic.

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Bryce, Wolfgang, and Gengo soon spotted carriages driving through the road, pulled by horses.

They navigated in such unison that their numbers confused the dog with divine senses, so people behind them were far from common folks. And as Bryce and Wolfgang noticed mercenaries donned in leather armor and weapons of good quality, they knew that carriages surely were stuffed with goods for a city.

Wolfgang recked his brain, recalling the words of his elder sister. With his eyes focused on mercenaries protecting the carriages, he whispered, "I haven't spotted any dent on their shields, not even a scratch. Bandits avoid them, so we can't use them to get on their good side."

Bryce chuckled, "You wanted to find bandits, notify them of those carriages, then help mercenaries to get on their good side?"

"Acts speak louder than words. It's one of the tips my elder sister gave me before I ran away from the kingdom." Wolfgang explained.

"Oh?" Bryce raised his eyebrow, "I thought she didn't know you ran away to pursue your goal."

"She knew I've had enough and would soon do something stupid. Nothing could stop me, so she passed me some valuable tips to not die dog's death before I left the kingdom," Wolfgang replied while not liking their situation, for he could imagine mercenaries and person behind the carriages to be wary of them, and that surely would make them reject them.

Bryce ignored that, however, and grasped Wolfgang's shoulder, "Watch your words."

"What?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glitter flashing within those golden jewels.

"A dog is my family. I won't tolerate such idioms in my presence," Bryce said in the exact same tone Wolfgang had shown his tendency to dislike questions.

Gengo just gazed at the werewolf.

And as there was already a bond between them, and Bryce knew how to read a map, Wolfgang accepted that side of his, nodded without saying anything, and retracted his eyes back to the carriages.

"Any plan?" he asked, clueless.

Bryce shrugged, not having any good idea, "I'd be wary, too, so we can't get petty if they refuse us. All we can do is approach them, apologize for stopping them, and talk nicely."

Hearing the second act, Wolfgang crossed his arms and said, "I'm not speaking with them. You will."

"Sure thing, Mr. Royalty," Bryce scoffed at Wolfgang's words and rushed ahead of the carriages. With his level and speed, he could match the horses, then outrace them in a few minutes.

He ran ahead a few meters, then barred the way of the first carriage.

The horses howled as the man behind them pulled the reins back. He shouted something, and in less than five seconds, the mercenaries took over the front, with the tanks standing at the helm.

Wolfgang joined Bryce's side, his appearance turning the mood tense. Bryce didn't miss that.

Because his heroic aura was tightly covered by the black coat and Bryce was forced to act as a vampire from now on, mainly because of his new friend, he seemed less significant than Wolfgang, and his presence was weak, his handsome face having no effect before the mercenaries.

Bringing out a smile nonetheless, Bryce asked, "We've been adventuring for a long time now, our goal the Emerea City, and it's been so long that we'd love to be in a civilized world already. Is there a chance you could give us a lift? We're self-sufficient, will offer our strength to protect the carriages, and cause absolutely no problems to you at all. We aren't chased by anyone."

Bryce didn't know whether someone was on Wolfgang's tail, but as their adventure had been quiet so far, he'd rather believe no one was chasing him.

He himself was clueless about his own situation.

"A royal werewolf, a human, and a dog. I haven't thought I'd meet such a party in the middle of nowhere." The tank, clearly the leader of the mercenary party, said, sounding still suspicious of them, "But with beasts opening more to humanity because of their summoning rituals, it's not an impossible party, is it?"

"You're right, sir," Bryce nodded and replied with enough respect.

"Our party has been hired to protect those carriages, so I will have to speak with our current boss. Wait for a few minutes, you three."

After saying those words, the tank glanced at his buddies, made sure they never blinked with Bryce and Wolfgang before them, then knocked on the first carriage's door. Instead of storing goods, it housed the merchant and his daughter, so it was on a totally different level and quality.

"Mr. Sylvester, we've been stopped by two unidentified males and a dog," the tank said before taking a seat on a soft sofa on the opposite side of the carriage's owner.

Mr. Sylvester, a tall and slim prominent merchant in his middle ages with clear wisdom in his eyes, nodded calmly at the tank, asking him, "From your tone, I reckon they haven't shown any hostility, rather the opposite?"

"Well, it's complicated," the tank genuinely confessed, for it was not time to hide anything, "One of them is a royal werewolf. He doesn't try to hide that as he openly exudes his aura; his golden eyes, white hair, and black nails confirm his race. He wears rough and unfitting clothes of royalty clothes, though."

"Black nails?" the merchant's daughter asked, her eyes twinkling. She was just nine years old lady, and it was her first time adventuring outside to learn about her father's business. When she heard about Wolfgang's nails, she lifted her hand, showed her blue nails, added that her mother banned her from painting them black, then hopped onto her two feet, "I want to see black nails!"

And she left the carriage.

"Continue," Sylvester flatly said, believing in other mercenaries and their reputation.

Their leader nodded, "A human wears a quite classy black coat, but everything else lacks in comparison, as though he got the rest of his clothes from a village, even his sword's hilt looks plain. We can't tell whether the dog is a tamed monster or another beast in disguise. That's more or less what we have inferred about their identities.

"They want you to give them a lift. But honestly speaking, I don't think we can trust them."

Sylvester nodded.

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"Can I see your black nails?" the young girl said, looking overly excited. She lifted her hand and added with a beautiful and genuine smile, "I have blue nails!"

"So?" Wolfgang replied flatly, his arms still crossed, which meant the lady couldn't see his nails. He held himself back from saying more; even he wouldn't shout at the kid who had barely seen the world.

Irritated by such a lack of understanding, Bryce slapped Wolfgang's back, broke his current position, and made him look at him with his usual threatening gaze.

"You said you wouldn't talk," Bryce shook his head, exasperated and disappointed.

And then, the merchant came out from the carriage. Seeing how his daughter hasn't approached strangers too closely, he knew he and his wife hadn't failed at teaching her, and as his heart warmed, he asked, "Have you seen black nails?"

"Yes, father! Black nails are so cool!" the little lady replied, her smile dazzling.

Sylvester chuckled, took her into her hands, and then said, "We can resume our journey." He then turned to Bryce and his friends, whispering, "I'm sorry, but I have to refuse your company."

Having said enough, Sylvester returned to his carriage. His daughter waved at Bryce and Wolfgang, smiling. The door closed, the horses howled, and the whole merchant cargo left Bryce, Wolfgang, and Gengo alone.

They stared blankly at them disappearing on the horizon. Some mercenaries stared back at them, feeling tense that these two would attack them, but as Bryce remained rooted on the ground, nothing happened.

At last, Bryce said, "You are lucky to have met me."

Feeling Bryce's disappointment and Gengo's judging eyes, Wolfgang crossed his arms and said nothing.

Bryce hit him with some understanding, though, "If you talked with that girl, explained that you have been born with black nails, and left her interested, we would have been in that first carriage."

Gengo barked.

Finally, Wolfgang snapped, "People gotta be straightforward with me! I fucking hate guessing!"

"So write 'be straightforward' on your forehead, then," Bryce spat and walked forward.

Gengo barked. Yeah, do it, he said.

"He said, 'Acts speak louder than words' then did nothing. Imagine…" Bryce shook his head.

Gengo barked. Yeah, really, he said.

Wolfgang balled his hands but did nothing because, as a werewolf, he would uncurl his fingers instead if he wanted to fight. It was a humane way of showing his indignation.