Chapter Sixty-Two: The Journey
That night, the moonlight was intoxicating.
After a not-so-lengthy conversation in front of the campfire, I sent the Female Swordsman off for a quick errand—she was to find the Refugee Woman and her children to deliver some venison. Honestly, that was her plan all along. Instead of wolfing it down right then, she carefully wrapped the deer meat I had given her earlier, clearly with that thought in mind.
Even though she didn’t say it, I could tell.
I wasn’t worried about her running away; she couldn’t escape my grasp even if the Goat Cheese wasn’t around. I could share visual oversight with “the Crow” and keep tabs on her every move.
If it ever came to it, I could send her into Oblivion through the Crow’s eyes, trapping her in a fantasy she couldn’t escape from—after getting more familiar with that bizarre power, I could do it to anyone.
At that point, I might just have to k*ll the Female Swordsman.
Not that it would be particularly difficult, even if she was a “former” Pope Knight of considerable skill.
Fortunately, the Female Swordsman was quite honest; she had no intention of fleeing, probably because she had nowhere else to go. After finding the Refugee Women and witnessing the terror in their eyes, she silently handed the trembling woman the venison, then promptly returned.
When she came back, she found a random spot—neither too far nor too close to me—curled up with her well-worn sword in hand, leaning against a rock on the hillside, and closed her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t tell if she was asleep.
“Caw—”
The cawing of the Crow occasionally echoed overhead, like the voice of d*ath in the night.
Under the starry sky, I extinguished the campfire, tidied up, and laid the leftover venison aside. I sat on the hillside, looked up, and let the gentle moonlight wash over my face while listening to the sonorous chirps of insects in the valley. The rustling leaves and branches in the wind sounded like a serene symphony. Lost in various trivial thoughts, I gradually drifted off to sleep.
In my dreams, the Honey Fruit Trees in the small courtyard were in full bloom.
…
The next morning, I woke up, tidied myself up a bit, and set out on the road again.
I didn’t fly this time, and since I had no Horned Horses, it was on foot. We were close to the Castle of Silence. For regular folks, three days would suffice to reach there. Just wrap around the mountain outside the valley, and one could see the imposing silhouette of the ancient castle and the beautiful azure lake outside the fortress—at least, that’s what the Female Swordsman told me.
“Are you really going over there?”
She repeated that sentence to me three times along the way for confirmation.
I didn’t answer.
Funny enough, the reason I told her last night that “you can’t get away” was that she had figured out who I was and I simply couldn’t let her go casually. However, after hearing her talk, I decided, for the time being, not to k*ll her. I thought it might be better to spare her life and see what would happen next.
But sparing her didn’t mean letting her go. I just told her she couldn’t leave. As for what to do with her next, I hadn’t thought much about it.
It wasn’t laziness—deep down, I was certain that now as my “prisoner,” even if she appeared perfectly honest, she would ultimately make a desperate bid for freedom whenever she thought the time was right.
Maybe she would launch a surprise attack when I least expected it, or perhaps slip away quietly while I was sleeping. She wouldn’t have honest intentions, which was why I hadn’t recalled the Crow made of Abyss Mud last night. I let it spiral above, monitoring the Female Swordsman’s every move.
To my surprise, there was actually nothing out of the ordinary that night.
The Female Swordsman genuinely slept soundly. When morning came, I found she’d even shifted her position, but she woke up before me, seemingly dazed, doing nothing until I got up. When she finally noticed I was awake, she didn’t say a word but got up, took some coarse hemp rope she must’ve found somewhere, and started bundling the wrapped deer meat to carry it on her back.
As I prepared to set off, she silently followed, like a mute maid trailing behind a wealthy young lady.
I initially thought she was trying to play me—given the acumen of a Female Swordsman, she should have already noticed the crow in the sky. She might not have figured out our connection, but she would certainly think I had the means to deal with her; otherwise, I wouldn’t have let her leave so easily last night. Probably because of this thought, she didn’t dare take any action even after stepping out of my sight.
She understood my power and knew I possessed more unknown abilities that she couldn’t comprehend. Under the threat of such power, the Female Swordsman wouldn’t dare act rashly.
She planned to lull me into complacency while trying to figure out my methods, then strike when the time was ripe. I thought about that, and from morning till afternoon, I kept a vigilant watch on her. To pass the monotonous journey, I tried to analyze her actions to figure out her plans.
But the more I observed, the more confused I became.
The Female Swordsman was just genuinely following me… she didn’t even talk. Other than confirming whether we were really going to the Castle of Silence, she didn’t say a single word. She trailed behind me; if I walked, she walked; if I stopped, she stopped. She didn’t even ask what my plan was going over there.
I could tell she was worried—probably thinking that the Castle of Silence was very dangerous and didn’t want to go—but I was set on going, so she naturally followed. Aside from occasionally pulling out some flatbread to nibble on when hungry, there were no unnecessary actions from her.
By dusk, I began to suspect that this girl might not have any thoughts in her head, just going through the motions based on instinct—what that instinct was driving her to do? Well, forgive me; I didn’t quite understand.
Despite having spent a single day together with virtually zero communication, if she was truly planning to hide herself to confuse me, then a mere day wasn’t enough to pull it off. The Female Swordsman still didn’t dare act recklessly. A peaceful coexistence was normal—I should be more on guard for her escape, yet strangely enough, after a day of observation, the Female Swordsman gave me a different feeling.
Maybe, just maybe, in that head of hers, there really weren’t any extra thoughts…
Could it be that she was one of those people who are great at hiding themselves?
I couldn’t help but wonder.
As night fell, I found a place to rest below the ridge, set up a campfire, and began to roast the meat. The Female Swordsman silently sat across from me, pulling out her last piece of hard flatbread to munch on. The aroma of meat didn’t seem to faze her. Unable to hold back my curiosity, I finally asked her.
“Don’t you want to escape?”
She looked up and shook her head: “Nope.”
“…Why not?”
“You’re way stronger than me.”
And what kind of reason was that…
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
Well…
That could indeed be considered a reason.
“You should at least try to resist… Aren’t you afraid I might k*ll you?”
“You’re not really trying to k*ll me.”
“You’re that certain?”
“Yup.”
The Female Swordsman nodded, burying her head back down into her flatbread.
After a few bites, she added, “I have nowhere to go.”
Her cheeks bulged while she spoke, and upon seeing crumbs on her hand, she hurriedly ate them. Perhaps the flatbread was too dry; swallowing seemed a bit tough. I thought for a moment and handed over my water flask.
“Following you, maybe I can avenge my mother.” As she took the flask, she said to me.
I chuckled. “Why do you think so?”
“I don’t know…”
The Female Swordsman tilted her head back to drink a few sips of water, wiped her mouth, seemed to consider for a moment, then added, “Intuition.”
And that familiar answer from last night.
“…Ha.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, tilting my head to stare at her for a long time until she averted her gaze, furrowing her brow. I then said to her, “You said your name was Sword Demon?”
“…Anacelis.”
She looked awkward, returning the water flask: “I’m Anacelis.”
“What about your surname?”
“…I don’t have one.”
…
The next afternoon, I stood on a path in the woods outside the valley, finally catching sight of the Castle of Silence in the distance.
