Chapter 59

Chapter 59
## Sons of the Wilderness (2)

The group organized for the hunt consisted of fifteen foot soldiers, ten men with crossbows, twelve warriors from the Atalain tribe, and a single Atalain sellsword.

“Duncan, you’re staying behind to watch the camp.”

“Understood, captain.”

…

The merchant had been left out of the mission entirely; no one could predict how many monsters were lurking in the shadows.

The foot soldiers weren’t there for the heavy lifting. Instead, they acted as logistical support, hauling extra gear and food like beasts of burden at the back of the line. The crossbowmen held the center, but they were also secondary; their limited bolt supply meant they weren’t meant for a long-drawn-out war.

The real heart of the unit was the dozen fighters at the front—elite Atalains serving the Galentana Tribal Council.

Initially, some of the regular troops had been skeptical. They wondered how a tiny group of twelve could possibly stand against the demonic threat. However, those doubts vanished the moment they saw the warriors up close.

They were a terrifying sight: bulging muscles, razor-sharp expressions, and an aura of murderous intent that felt physical. Their belts were adorned with the gruesome, dried heads of fallen monsters. These weren’t just simple mercenaries; they were killers of a different caliber. One could easily believe that the myths of a legendary “Demon Slayer” were inspired by men such as these.

Yet, there is always a higher peak to climb.

As fierce as the twelve warriors appeared, they seemed almost ordinary compared to the Atalain mercenary who had arrived at the last minute.

From the moment they began their march, the eyes of the infantry—and even the gazes of the Atalain elites—were fixed on the massive figure leading the way.

“The power he holds is unreal, brother! Lord Tundal is our strongest, and even he didn’t move him!”

“His blade-work is like a ghost in the wind! I bet even the master of the Land of Eternal Feasts would be stunned by those strikes!”

“Tell us, brother, where do you come from? How many of those things have you put down? Where are you traveling next?”

“…”

Following the confrontation in the tent, the tribesmen had crowded around Kadim, overflowing with questions. Kadim, however, ignored them entirely. He let their chatter wash over him, his mind focused elsewhere.

Setting aside the stone guardians he’d faced in the ruins, this was his first real interaction with other Atalains in this second life. It didn’t move him emotionally. Having been born in a modern era originally, he didn’t share their obsession with the glory of the blade.

Furthermore, Kadim had dealt with plenty of Atalains during his first life and within the game world. He knew from experience that it was usually better to keep them at a distance.

Atalains who wandered beyond the wilderness generally fell into two camps: the loners and the packs.

The “loners” were similar to Kadim.

They were warriors who followed a personal path, seeking strength in isolation. They faced heavy bias from the civilized world, but they were honorable and reliable. Meeting one usually resulted in a helpful alliance.

The “packs,” however, were a different story.

These were groups who lived strictly by the laws of the wild, traveling in search of violence. Because of their combat skills, kings and high lords often hired them for wars, but their chaotic nature and bloodlust meant they caused more trouble than they were worth nine times out of ten.

Because of this, Kadim chose not to reveal his true identity as the Great Warrior of Atala.

If he did, they would either pledge a noisy, suffocating loyalty to him or constantly challenge him to duels to prove their worth.

Unfortunately, it seemed he had already drawn too much attention.

“Brother, when this is over, give me the honor of a duel!”

“Forget him, teach me a technique! I promise to show you I’m a worthy student!”

“…”

Kadim looked into their eyes. Underneath the friendly talk, he saw a burning desire for competition. Three centuries had passed, and while he hoped they might have evolved, the Atalain hunger to fight the strong was as vibrant as ever.

Luckily, he didn’t have to push them away himself. Tundal, the man who had tested him with the spear earlier, stepped in to restore order.

“Get back to your ranks! This man has already earned his respect by standing his ground against me. We are here to kill demons, not play at games. If anyone causes trouble within our own lines, they will answer to the laws of the wilderness!”

Tundal’s command was absolute. The warriors settled down immediately, showing a level of discipline that Kadim found slightly relieving.

As the others moved back, Tundal remained by Kadim’s side. A grim smile tugged at the scar on his cheek.

“I apologize for the late formal greeting. I am Tundal, the commander of this unit. I won’t say sorry for attacking you earlier; as an Atalain, you know that a spear is how we measure a man’s soul.”

“…”

Kadim fought back the urge to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about.

“I still haven’t caught your name. Who are you?”

“…Kadim.”

“Kadim. Good. Welcome to the hunt. Now that you’re part of the unit, you need to understand the plan.”

Tundal began to explain the strategy.

Their primary destination was the village of Borden. Rather than wasting strength on every stray beast, they would move as a surgical strike team to kill the demons at the source. The mission’s success hinged on finding and executing the “central demon” that was controlling the lesser creatures.

It was standard procedure, and Kadim listened without comment. He did, however, find Tundal’s closing warning almost amusing.

“You’re a high-level fighter, I can see that. But this mission is deadlier than anything you’ve seen. You will face a sea of monsters and demons far beyond your imagination.”

“…”

“If you act on your own, you put us all at risk. For now, act as part of this pack. You might be stronger than me individually, but I have the experience in leading men and fighting these specific horrors.”

“…”

“Do you swear, by the name of Atala, to follow my lead during this hunt?”

Tundal waited, his expression grave and expectant.

The Great Warrior of Atala—the man who had butchered thousands of demons, held lines against endless tides of darkness, and taken the head of a demon lord—did not mock the younger man’s pride.

He simply suppressed a smirk and gave a short nod.

“I will follow any order that makes sense.”

They had been walking for less than an hour when the first contact occurred.

— Kirrrk, kirrrrk…

— Krrrk, kengkeng!

“M-monsters! They’re right there!”

A pair of hornless demons emerged alongside several blade wolves, their eyes glowing with a predatory red light. The regular soldiers started to panic, but the Atalains remained cold. Following Tundal’s sharp orders, they shifted into a killing formation.

“Warriors of the wild, ready! Javelins first! Aim and throw!”

The air whistled as heavy spears flew. They found their marks with sickening thuds, piercing through wolf hides, shattering bone, and pinning creatures to the dirt. As the survivors scrambled over the bodies of their pack, the Atalains drew their close-quarters weapons.

— Kirrrk!

— Kengkeng!!

Kadim moved before anyone else. He had smelled the foul scent of the abyss long before they appeared. The other warriors followed his lead, unwilling to be left behind in the glory.

“For Atala!”

“Ataaaaaala!”

Cracks and wet thuds filled the air.

— Kyeng!

— Krrrk!

The skirmish was violent but brief. The blade wolves were wiped out by the warrior line, and the two demons were dealt with quickly—one falling to Kadim’s sword, the other to his axe.

The warriors beat their chests in a show of respect toward Kadim, who had taken down the primary threats single-handedly. They raised their bloodied steel to the sky.

“Praise the brother who spilled the demon’s blood!”

“Glory to Atala for this hunt!”

“…”

Kadim stood amidst the gore, watching their celebration.

They acted like brutes, but their talent was undeniable. They fought well as individuals and even better as a unit. They were a world apart from the fragile council soldiers.

And yet, something felt slightly off to him.

Their strikes were powerful but seemed strangely specialized, and their formation felt tailored for a specific environment—one that wasn’t the open fields they were currently in. Kadim squinted, trying to place the familiarity of their style.

Tundal interrupted his thoughts with a word of praise.

“Impressive. Taking both demons by yourself… you’re even more capable than I judged. The credit for those kills is yours.”

“…”

“But those weapons… where did you find such things? They aren’t standard gear.”

Kadim ignored the question. They didn’t have time to chat.

Through the lingering smell of death, he could feel a specific, needle-like prick against his skin—the signature of the “central demon.” He needed to reach it before the mages from the tower or any other parties arrived to claim the remains.

“Keep moving. More will come if we linger.”

“…You’re right. Soldiers, take the trophies and burn the carcasses! We move out immediately!”

As the journey continued, they hit several more small groups of enemies. Each time, Kadim and the Atalains tore through them without hesitation.

The support troops didn’t have to draw their swords once. While the human soldiers grew weary from the tension, the Atalains seemed to gain energy with every kill, their spirits rising as the blood flowed.

— Krrrk!

“Ataaaaaala!”

“Death to the rot!”

“The Lord of Plagues is with us!”

“…”

The infantry watched in awe. The sheer physical endurance and martial skill of the warriors—especially Kadim—seemed supernatural.

While the twelve tribesmen worked perfectly together, Kadim was a force of nature. He was killing as many monsters as the rest of the group combined. The soldiers began to whisper among themselves, wondering if the man before them was indeed the legendary slayer of stories.

By the time the sun began to set, they were only an hour away from Borden. They had covered the distance in half the projected time.

Since the night belonged to the monsters, Tundal called for a halt. They would camp in the thickets without a fire to avoid detection. Dinner was a silent affair of dry bread and salted meat, but everyone’s attention was on Kadim.

“…”

“…”

The regular soldiers looked at him with a mix of terror and reverence. The Atalain warriors, however, looked at him with pure, unadulterated competitive hunger. Seeing him fight had only made them more desperate to test themselves against him.

However, Tundal’s earlier warning held. They wouldn’t fight now, but they were already arguing in low voices about who would get to challenge him once the mission was over.

“I’m the strongest, so I go last…”

“No way, I’m first…”

“We’ll draw lots for it…”

Kadim, who had no intention of participating in their games, found the whole situation tiring.

After finishing his meal, he began to maintain his weapons, wiping the axe and running a whetstone over his sword. Tundal approached and sat down nearby.

“Brother, you took down five demons today. The council pays 10,000 luden per head. You’ve already made a fortune.”

“…”

Kadim looked at him through narrowed eyes. He noticed that Tundal wasn’t looking at his face, but at the “Mosquito” in his hand. There was an edge to the man’s gaze.

“You didn’t come here to talk about money. What do you want?”

Kadim stopped sharpening and let his hand rest naturally on the hilt. Tundal’s posture stiffened.

“…That sword and that axe. They are unique. I watched you closely today. The blade drinks the blood of the slain, and the axe returns to your grip like it’s alive. And the markings on them… those are the ancient runes of our people.”

Kadim tilted the sword slightly. The red etchings caught the dim light. It looked like a casual movement, but it was a ready stance.

Tundal’s expression became like stone. He stared into Kadim’s eyes with a heavy, unreadable intensity.

“I’ll be blunt: where did those weapons come from?”

“…”

“Because to my eyes, those look exactly like the legendary arms of the Great Warrior of Atala.”

A heavy silence fell over the campsite.

Kadim looked at the man, wondering exactly how much he should reveal.