Chapter 181 – The Dimwit and the Leader (2)
Although he had never seen them in person, the dimwit knew. He knew that small, unimpressive humans lived inside there.
There were even a few who licked their lips while staring at the repulsive beings hiding inside.
The dimwit never imagined that the leader had endured the pain of climbing up there just to see the humans.
That made him even more curious.
Perhaps something special other than humans was hidden inside that box.
And so, the dimwit waited.
The sunlight steadily intensified, and the stinging pain on his skin grew worse, but his anticipation grew in equal measure.
If it’s worth enduring this much pain, it must be something truly, truly amazing!
Just as the dimwit’s anticipation swelled without limit—
Creeeeak—
A small opening appeared in the box.
Contrary to the dimwit’s expectations, what emerged from inside were merely humans.
One slightly larger human and another slightly smaller one.
What? They’re just humans.
Although it was rare, humans sometimes passed through the forest on the opposite side at night, so even the dimwit had seen humans from afar before.
It was somewhat fascinating that an opening had suddenly appeared in the box, but that was all.
Disappointed, the dimwit turned his attention back to the leader.
At that moment, the dimwit’s steadily growing anticipation burst with a pop.
He had realized that those insignificant humans were precisely what the leader had been waiting for.
His shattered anticipation broke into so many pieces that it could never be stitched back together.
He could no longer deny that those two humans were what the leader had endured all that pain to see.
The leader’s eyes were sparkling as he gazed at them.
After his slow mind went over the matter again and again, the dimwit reached a single conclusion.
The leader undoubtedly wanted to eat those two humans.
Come to think of it, he had never eaten a human before.
He had only eaten the animals that lived on the island. He had never eaten a human.
So he’s observing them to hunt those two!
That’s right. The leader was extremely good at hunting.
* * *
That afternoon, the dimwit could not sleep.
He could not understand exactly what he had witnessed.
Why did the leader sneak out like that merely to look at something like them?
Merely to see two humans.
When the dimwit came out at dawn, he observed the two humans alongside the leader.
They watched them fish, chop wood, fight, laugh, and interact with each other.
The dimwit noticed that the larger human was limping. It seemed there was something wrong with his leg.
What? Then there’s no need to keep watching!
Nothing was easier to catch than injured prey.
The dimwit thought the leader would surely hunt the larger one before the smaller one.
After all, the leader was an experienced hunter.
As he observed the prey alongside the leader, several things caught his attention.
The smaller human always looked after the larger human whose leg was injured.
It reminded him of his earliest memory.
The leader’s rough hands had pulled him up while he writhed in pain.
For some reason, the dimwit felt strange.
That afternoon, the dimwit once again slept poorly.
That day, the dimwit realized something.
The leader was not watching those two because he intended to hunt them.
The leader—his hero—was envious of those humans.
Now he vaguely understood why the leader had saved him.
Had he wanted to imitate those two?
Feeling strangely unsettled, the dimwit lost sleep for several more days and failed to obtain much from his hunts.
Admittedly, he had never been particularly good at hunting.
Even so, by recalling the leader’s advice, he barely managed to steal a bird’s nest.
Holding the nest filled with eggs, the dimwit returned to the group, only to stop short at the unusually suffocating tension.
Something was wrong.
Everything seemed the same as usual, yet it did not. The atmosphere was so sharp that it made his skin prickle.
Feeling his heart pound anxiously, the dimwit moved toward the center.
As he grunted and pushed through the group, drawing closer to the leader, he saw the leader and the orc blocking his path through the gaps between the other orcs.
His instincts told him that something terrifying was about to happen.
He also knew that if things continued like this, the leader would die at that orc’s hands.
And he knew, of course, that this was an entirely natural occurrence.
....But the dimwit did not want the leader to die.
The dimwit pushed his way through the orcs.
Charging forward recklessly, he did not think deeply about it.
He was already holding something he could throw, and his target had been chosen, so there was no reason to hesitate.
A fresh bird egg sailed through the air in an arc and struck the orc on the head.
Suddenly drenched in sticky liquid, the orc erupted in fury.
Behind the raging orc, the dimwit thought he saw a faint smile on the leader’s face.
But no matter how desperately one tried to hold on, time continued to flow, and a body that had grown old could never return to its former state.
The leader grew weaker with each passing day, and more and more members of the group began to see him not as a leader they should follow, but as prey they should defeat and devour.
Plagued by the anxiety of walking along the edge of a blade, the dimwit finished hunting before anyone else each day and hurried back to the cave.
The leader found it frustrating that the dimwit always returned with such pathetic prey.
Even if he had to endure the leader’s nagging every single day, the dimwit still wished those days would never end.
Foolishly, he believed they could continue forever.
Then, overnight, the dimwit’s futile hope and delusion shattered into pieces.
There had been no usual warning or omen.
No, perhaps the dimwit had merely pretended not to notice them. Perhaps everything that had happened until then had been a warning.
It had warned him that while he looked away because he was too afraid, the one he cherished would be destroyed, and that he had to choose one of two paths.
He could run away or stand and fight.
As he stared at the unconscious leader, whose throat was being helplessly torn apart and devoured, the dimwit thought precisely that.
The miserable bird he had caught with his usual lack of effort slipped from his hand and rolled across the ground.
With his vision turning pure white, the dimwit charged once again at the orc opening its jaws toward the leader’s throat.
Caught by surprise, the orc tumbled across the ground.
“Kweeek! You damned bastard...!”
Its furious gaze turned toward the dimwit, but only for a moment.
As though the dimwit were no longer there, the orc twisted its body back toward the leader.
Its murderous eyes refused to leave the leader.
Horrified by the chilling sight, the dimwit squeezed his eyes shut and shoved the orc toward the bottom of the cliff with all his strength.
However, the dimwit, who had never hunted properly in his entire life, lacked the strength to send his enemy plummeting into the abyss.
The moment he saw the orc grab the cliff face as it fell, the dimwit realized something.
That was not an opponent he could defeat.
He had to escape.
The dimwit helped the leader to his feet, but there was nowhere he could flee while supporting the leader’s limp body.
Even during his brief hesitation, the one pursuing the leader drew closer.
Unable to decide what to do, the dimwit spotted the waterfall.
Having fallen there once before, the dimwit knew there was a place beneath it where someone could hide.
However, they could not remain hidden inside forever.
Their opponent was strong, clever, and, above all else, relentless.
The dimwit had to divert the enemy’s attention away from the leader.
And to do that...
After barely managing to place the leader inside the cave, the dimwit noticed the leader’s sword.
After hesitating briefly, the dimwit lifted the sword.
His arm would grow back anyway.
If he ate well and rested properly…. The leader was strong, so it would surely grow back.
The dimwit squeezed his eyes shut and swung the sword.
The familiar scent of blood was strangely nauseating.
However, an even more difficult task remained for the dimwit.
To carry out the most disgusting method—the best way to lure the enemy away and, if things went wrong, turn that terrifying orc’s fury against himself—
The dimwit calmed his violently trembling body and opened his mouth before the leader’s neck.
He chewed and swallowed the foul-smelling flesh.
Then, carrying the leader’s arm, he left the cave.
The dimwit burst out of the cave and ran toward the entrance without stopping.
When I come back, I’ll take the leader and run away.
When I come back, we’ll live while pretending to be humans, just as the leader wanted.
* * *
As soon as Lia regained consciousness, we all gathered beneath the shade of a tree to discuss what we would do next.
Lia looked somewhat exhausted, but otherwise, she seemed to be in fairly good condition.
She was certainly doing better than me, as I was once again being carried around like a piece of luggage on Jing’s back.
“Ran, never, ever….risk your life alone again. If you’re going to do something like that, tell us beforehand—or at least give us some kind of signal. If you do it again, I’ll bend your joints outward so you can never do anything like that again.”
Leaning against the trunk of a tree, Lia greeted me with a brutal warning.
Jing cleared his throat and glanced back at me.
“It sounds rather brutal, but I agree with Lia.”
“You’re in no position to say that, Jing. You nearly died this time as well.”
Ratel, who had been following behind me, rebuked him.
“That’s right! The same goes for Jing! If something like this happens again, Ratel can break Jing’s joints!”
“Considering Jing’s age, damaging his joints would be far too cruel a punishment.”
Ratel spoke as if he were showing mercy.
“We should cleanly shatter his bones instead. That way, stronger new bones will grow.”
“I admit I was wrong, so both of you should stop plotting what to do with our bones. Besides, where did you learn such a bizarre folk remedy claiming that broken bones grow back stronger?”
Jing lowered me to the ground as he tried to dissuade them, but Ratel remained persistent.
“I know because I’ve tried it myself. Bones become stronger every time they mend.”
“That might be true because it’s you. Normally, the more often a bone breaks, the weaker it becomes.”
“How would Jing know that?”
“Of course I know better. I’ve lived several times longer than you, so I’ve probably broken several times more people’s bones than you have.”
“It must be wonderful to be so old.”
“Wait a moment. Why have you had so many opportunities to break perfectly healthy people’s bones, Jing?”
While they debated whether bones truly became stronger the more often they were broken, I shuffled forward on my knees, settled beneath the tree’s shade, and looked around.
Watching the three of them peacefully exchange such pointless remarks made reality sink in once again.
None of us had died. We had all returned alive and unharmed.
It also reminded me that I had no choice but to continue my journey with them.
And that, for that to happen, there were still things I needed to confess to them.
But first, I had to end this pointless conversation.
“Bones won’t become stronger even if they’re broken dozens of times, so stop it. And don’t even think about testing it.”
Having experienced the pinnacle of modern medicine, I prevented a potential future tragedy.
“If you know so much, you’d better stop acting however you please. Unless you want us to experiment on your leg bones.”
This time, Ratel redirected the target of his curse toward me.
What experiment? He simply meant that he would break my legs.
“That’s what I should be saying. Until all the holy relics have been destroyed, the chance of me having to risk my life will fall considerably if you stop barging in out of nowhere.”
When I retorted, Ratel’s brow began to crease.
“Um, excuse me….I still don’t fully understand what’s happening. Could someone please explain it to me?”
Before Ratel could speak, Lia cautiously raised her hand.
Come to think of it, Lia had to be the most confused among us.
She had followed us without knowing anything from the beginning and had experienced far too much.
“First, I apologize. I didn’t explain anything beforehand because I couldn’t trust you, Lia.”
At my honest answer, Lia’s shoulders visibly flinched.
“No, it would be more accurate to say that I couldn’t trust anyone in this world.”
“Did all of you truly gather to destroy the Emperor’s….holy relics?”
Lia slightly stumbled over her words as she studied us with a conflicted expression.
There was no longer any point in hiding the truth.
Lia had already become far too deeply involved with us to withdraw now.
If she was destined to learn the truth anyway, it would be better to reveal it quickly and directly.
“Destroying the holy relics is merely part of the process. Our true objective lies elsewhere.”
I met Lia’s trembling eyes and continued.
“We intend to exterminate the imperial family.”
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