In fact, it was so peaceful that I could only wish the whole way had been like this. If it were, I would still have Misfortune, my backpack, all my supplies, and Veilleuse-01, which, with my aching feet and now completely numb leg, I was really missing the presence of. It made me understand that saying about realizing how something is important to you only when it's lost. It really makes one feel like getting revenge.
"Fucking Dungeon," I cursed under my breath.
As much as my rising anger and annoyance made me feel like turning around going after the entity behind this for retribution, or at the very least for compensation for what it did to me, I remembered that not giving in to revenge was one of our mantras.
To be frank, I wasn't in the mood to deal with any more bullshit, be it a monster, a spawn, or whatever. I just wanted to get out of this place, and luckily for me, it seemed I was getting close to that objective. As I advanced, the air was getting warmer, the path was going downhill, and the mist that encroached upon the place was thinning, granting better visibility.
Ignoring my numb legs, I pressed forward until I arrived at a gap that opened to the other side of the mountain. Under the moonlight of two moons hanging high above the sky, the road looked abandoned but was clearly once a road. The verdant landscape stretched out before me, and in the distance, perhaps two or three kilometers away, I saw a blue lake under the moonlight.
Being on an empty stomach and dealing with several other issues, I was, without exaggeration, in a very sour mood. But the sight of that lake, illuminated by the moons, immediately made me imagine submerging myself in it, and brought an eager smile to my face.
Ignoring my numb legs, I pushed forward, not casting a single glance back, just ecstatic to leave the Yelling Peaks behind.
After walking for about half an hour, I closed in on the lake that was off the conventional barely-holding road by about one and a half kilometers. As I neared the lake, I noticed signs of human presence: notably, cows either resting to digest or still actively grazing the green pasture surrounding the lake.
Sure, that wasn't "exactly" a sign of human presence, but it was a sign of human activity. What was a sign of human presence was the campment by the edge of the lake. Well, "campment" was a big word. Less than a campment, it was just bedrolls laid on the ground with their users laid around a barely crackling fire.
My initial plan, the reason I dragged myself here, was that I planned on throwing myself into the lake that, by the way, now looked bluer than ever. But it seemed that I wouldn't be able to do that without dealing with one thing first. One of the men at the "campment," most likely on guard duty, immediately alerted his friends of my presence.
Five of them. There were five of these men who, from this setting, could be assumed, with all these cows, to be herders. But for herders, they were quite a well-equipped bunch. Upon being alerted to my presence, all five men reached out and drew their respective weapons, some a rusty sword, another an axe, and even one with a machete. They didn't even get a glimpse of me before they had their weapons drawn toward the direction they were alerted to.
One of them shouted, "Who goes there? Show yourself!"
I couldn't help but think that for a herder, he was living quite on the edge. Well, I suppose that's to be expected for a herder in a bandit-infested region. Perhaps because he really struggled to see, or perhaps my current disheveled appearance puzzled the man, but frowning, the man sized me up and down, asking once again, "Who are you?"
I stood there staring at them, but eventually, wanting to get done with this, I said, "Just a lost traveler."
Perhaps it was the words or perhaps the voice, but there was a change in the established mood, their eyes shining with a new light. The sight of that light brought about unpleasant memories, memories that made me wish to end this already. But even the desire to do that was itching, I just waited. I, at that moment, finally wondered.
Waiting for them to make the first step, granting me excuses to do what I knew I would be doing anyway? That's so... true and so stupid.
Having realized that;, which felt like an epiphany, and having come to a decision as to what I should be doing. I made my way toward the men.
At first, unlike earlier when they literally drew their weapons on me, the five men smiled at the sight of me closing in on them.
But as the effect of [Lowered Temperature] became visible, instantly freezing the grass at my feet, the smirks on their faces instantly disappeared.
Understanding instantly that they were in harm's way, they all turned around, rushing to safety. I was already too close and they were within range of Legacy of Agony’subability.
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Being mere peons with no means to protect themselves, they fell under the effect of Legacy of Agony’s Engraving. Unlike Echoing, which temporarily hexes a target with memories and emotions I had previously harvested from the bandits, this ability permanently curses a target with those memories.
Unable to withstand the curse’s immediate effect, they fell to their knees. Their faces contorted in terror, eyes wide with the panic of someone moments away from death. Their bodies trembling uncontrollably, they gasped for breath, feeling the last desperate struggles of a bandits about to be frozen to death like his fellow I was back then done experiencing with. Some clutched at their chests, hearts most likely pounding with the intense fear and anguish of impending doom. Tears streamed down their faces as they screamed, begging for mercy from an invisible force, fully engulfed in the harrowing emotions of those final, agonizing seconds. They looked miserable, but fortunately for them respite came in the form of me with my [Lowered Temperature] still active spell approaching.
One by one, they turned into ice statues, starting with the closest ones.
One of them, catching a glimpse of his three friends turned into ice statues, stumbled and fell to the ground. Trying to recover from the fall, helped by the other one leading their retreat, he saw his limbs turning into ice as did his friend. The ice spread towards his face, and understanding what soon will be his fate, he screamed, squealed, reaching for his friend, but that friend understood that it was too late for him and had put distance between themselves and very much me.
Upon closing in on the statues, I swung my staff, shattering the ice sculptures they'd become, one by one.
I closed in on the last survivor of the quintet, who was already at the edge of the lake. Instead of retreating into the lake, he ran along the shore to the right. Good thing he did, I would have had to freeze the lake, and I was in no mood for a cold bath. The man seemingly successfully escaped, having made dozens of meters between him and me, but in that moment, he too, like his friend, suddenly tripped.
Unlike his friend however he didn't fall because of a clumsy mistake; he fell because of my new skill, Eye of Petrification, which, as the name suggested, rendered movement impossible, allowing me to close in on him. As I deactivated the skill and closed in, the man tried to recover from his fall, most likely left confused but acting on instinct, prioritizing escape over anything else. But it was already too late. Just as he made it back to his feet and had his back turned to me, I came swinging with my staff, with a move a monk was very familiar with. The sound of snapping filled the air, and it didn't come from my staff.
Screaming, the man fell to his knees, turning around, swinging the weapon he was holding. But by then, I came swinging again, knocking the machete out of his hand, hitting one arm. The man screamed—a scream that I silenced with a kick to his face. Stepping a leg onto his chest, pressing him to the ground, I resisted the urge to finish him off there, refraining because doing so would stop me from getting what I wanted from him.
"Where's your horse?" I demanded.
"Huh?" he responded, confused.
At his answer, I swung once more at his face.
Staring at the man with bloodshot eyes, who, most likely having lost reason, snapped at me, "You're insane!"
"Am I? I don't see why I would be."
"We didn't do anything to you!"
"Yet. You didn't do anything to me… yet." Another swing to his face with my staff made him wince. "Don't try to play that game with me. I know you're no herder, bandit. I could tell from the smell kilometers away."
Due to the prevalence of banditry, there were virtually no villages or small settlements in the entire region, unlike what would typically be seen elsewhere. This made it highly unlikely that they were merely peaceful herders. While there were communities and villages around, these were often less like traditional villages and more like dens of bandits.
"So, tell me, where are your horses?"
"We don't have any horses," he, bawling, managed to mutter.
I scanned my surroundings to confirm his words, then nodded. "I see."
"Where's your village, then?" I demanded.
The man looked confused and fearful. "What do you want to do?"
I didn't answer, just stared at him with a look that gave him all the answers he needed.
"You're insane," he said in horror.
"I told you I'm not," I replied, before reaching onto his face. "Wither in misery."
After dealing with the obstacle between me and my plan to take a swim in the lake, I finally got the opportunity to do just that. Swimming there was relaxing, and just floating in the uniquely warm water was as refreshing as it was soothing. I wondered if it was because I finally let go of the pretense, or perhaps it was because of how the warmth of the lake reminded me of the comfort of the chateau's bathtub. Whatever it was, I relaxed in a way that brought back memories of those long, comfortable soaks. I floated there for a while until my gurgling stomach made me go back to the shore to scavenge for leftovers, if there were any at the camp.
There wasn’t much left. Just a rachitic piece of bread, some foul-smelling mead, and the leftover remnants of some mysterious soup.
I made do with that, as my other alternatives were either to kill one of the cows for its meat or just not eat. Not eating was just not ideal. Once done, which didn't take long considering what I had at my disposal, I went back on the road.
At first, I considered resting there, yearning for the comfort of a bed. But I wanted to get to Auroravia, the closest city, as soon as possible. Because even though the city was the closest one, it was still kilometers away. There was no way I was doing that on foot. I needed a horse, which is why my next destination upon leaving the lake was not Auroravia but the next village—in other words, the closest bandit den which I could safely assume that’s where the five "herders" came from. I wasn’t able to extract the village’s whereabouts from the bastard, but I was positive that I wouldn’t struggle too much to find it.
My primary goal was to secure a horse for my journey to Auroravia and nothing else. Hopefully, that’ll be done peacefully, but if my safety is threatened, I will have to respond with the language commonly spoken by all living things—even the entities of this world—violence. But really, I hope it won't come to that.
***
[Warning]Hex incompatible with target!