WHIZZ, THWACK, SWISH, BANG!

The battle with the harpies could be summed up in those four sounds. In all, Rem fired nineteen shots and tore through two slings.

KYAA! KYAA!

The harpies cried out as their heads burst. Still screeching, they attacked again and cast spells. Wind gathered into something resembling a barrier. Looking closely, one could just make out the space warping. Even without seeing it, one could roughly sense it.

So what? What good was a barrier?

WHOOSH, BANG!

The harpies' spells could not stop the overwhelming physical force of the sling. Whirring as it spun, it launched a shot that punched straight through the barrier.

KYAAAK! KYAAAK!

By then, the harpies' cries sounded like laughter. Were they laughing as they died? Ah, they'd wanted to die too, but had been sad because there was no one to kill them. Well, here came a barbarian to kill them.

"He's brought his stones along, along."

Murmuring the words of an old song, Encrid never even had a chance to join in.

"There are a lot of them."

He rested a hand on Aker's grip and looked up to see more screeching harpy bastards emerge. Wings flapped and feathers scattered, while sour odors, fishy smells, and the scent of blood reached his nose. There were over thirty harpies alone.

'Could be fifty.'

As Encrid watched, more harpies emerged from the stone tower. Their numbers looked likely to exceed fifty.

WHIZZ! THWACK!

Another shot cut through the air, too fast for the eye to follow. The stone pierced the chest of a female harpy with bouncing breasts, and black blood rained through the air. With a hole where her breasts had been, the harpy became a meteor and crashed into the ground.

THUD!

Dust rose with the impact. The harpies did not simply take it. Three males with solid pectoral muscles flew down, swept both wings forward, and fired their feathers. Dozens of bladed feathers, no different from pointed knives, descended on the party.

Encrid took out a round shield about two handspans across, read the feathers' trajectories, and blocked.

THUD-THUD-THUD.

Unable to pierce the oiled shield, the feathers lodged in its surface. Blocking them was easy. He only had to catch the ones aimed at his body. He predicted the paths of the rest and dodged as needed.

'Should I have knocked them away with my sword?'

That probably wouldn't have been difficult either. In any case, he'd blocked them, so there was nothing to worry about.

Luagarne drew her Loop Sword and covered her heart with the flat, ignoring the rest of her body. She wore a heart guard that surrounded her heart with at least three layers of thin iron plate, fine demonic-beast hide, and enchanted cloth. Feathers would have bounced off even without her sword.

But Frogs were a race afflicted with a fear of harm to their hearts. It was normal for them to feel anxious and frightened even with two or three layers of protection. Luagarne, at least, was an exceptionally well-trained Frog who could say the word "heart" and remain reasonably composed.

The incoming feathers struck her arms and legs. Two hit her belly as well.

THUMP, TICK.

With faint sounds, the feathers slipped off her skin and bounced away. They didn't even leave a scratch. That was only natural: Frog skin was covered in a distinctive mucus that made most blades slip off. However sharp the feather tips might be, they meant little unless the attack could sever a limb.

Dunbachel leaped clear of the volley. Rem simply dodged where he stood, still spinning his sling. The three harpies that had fired the feathers seemed to falter for a moment. They must never have seen anyone so calmly block those terrifying feathers, which normally sent everyone frantically blocking and dodging.

'I'd be a little surprised myself.'

Encrid understood how the harpies felt. Didn't good tactics begin with knowing the enemy? It was something he'd learned while swimming in the lake of experience. Know the enemy and know yourself. Know yourself and know the enemy. That had to come before the fight even began.

He could see the harpies' thick pectorals rising and falling. What the hell were those things? Were they monsters? He could almost hear the monsters saying it.

They hesitated briefly, and that was foolish. They had descended to fire their feathers. In other words, they were low enough for a blade to reach with a determined leap.

Dunbachel leaped. She ran up the stone tower's wall as though it were the ground. A few strides brought her nearly level with the harpies. Twisting in midair, she split the three harpies' heads and chests with her curved sword and foot claws. She tucked herself into a spin in the air and returned to the ground with a light landing.

THUD, WHUMP, THUD.

The three harpies fell in sprawled heaps. All the while, Rem's shots continued tearing through the air.

WHIZZ! THWACK!

The colony leader was a harpy that fired wind arrows, and Rem treated it just like the others, putting a stone through its head. This time, of course, he didn't shoot from a standing position. He spun his whole body once with the sling whirring before releasing the shot. The dynamic motion doubled its speed.

That finished the harpy colony. Its leader lost everything above its neck, its head bursting before it could properly use a single spell.

KYAAAAAA!

The remaining harpies screamed. Some attacked in rage; others fled. Dunbachel and Luagarne killed every one that came at them.

"Shall we do the next one now, too?"

Encrid spoke. It had ended without him needing to do anything, his companions didn't look particularly tired, and the night was still young. The moon shone brightly, with dawn still a long way off.

"Let's."

Rem tossed the broken sling to the ground as he spoke.

Finding the black-hound colony was even easier.

"Dogs still mark their territory, even after becoming demonic beasts."

Find their droppings, follow the scent, and locate them. It wasn't difficult. Dunbachel knew a thing or two about hunting as well. Naturally so, with her exceptional ability to track by scent. Bounty hunting had been her main occupation while wandering the continent.

That was how they found the second monster colony. A dog that walked upright suddenly appeared there. It was a variant of a hellhound. Perhaps this was only to be expected in the Demonic Realm borderlands. None of the monsters around here were ordinary. First spellcasting harpies, now dogs walking on two legs. And this wasn't even a large Demonic Realm. The great Demonic Realm in the south would be worse.

"Monsters near a Demonic Realm aren't ordinary. That makes them all the more dangerous."

Luagarne spoke as she looked at the dog-headed creature that seemed to have crawled out of hell. She twirled her Loop Sword in her hand. The heavy chunk of metal whooshed through the air.

Hadn't they said cavalry couldn't be used around here? Supposedly, no animal went unfrightened near a Demonic Realm. As a result, the surroundings themselves were strange. Animals were rarely seen roaming about. Instead, demonic beasts and monsters abounded.

GRRR!

The demonic beasts' leader, the dog that walked on two legs, breathed fire and had venomous fangs, but none of that mattered. Encrid took its head off with two strokes. He cut off its foreleg with the gladius in his left hand, then severed its neck with Aker in his right.

Meanwhile, Rem and the others slashed and battered dozens of demonic beasts to death. There had been over a hundred, and they had killed half. The frightened survivors scattered in every direction. They couldn't chase them down one by one. There was no need, either.

"Leave them. They'll die on their own."

Luagarne went on to explain. The monsters here were tough. Roaming without a colony was a fine way to get themselves killed. It was a place where ordinary demonic beasts could barely survive.

Her lecture on monsters continued. Encrid listened closely. It was full of fascinating details. The gist was this:

"Are you saying monsters evolve near a Demonic Realm?"

On the way back, Encrid asked the question that went to the heart of it, and Luagarne nodded.

After dealing with the two monster colonies, they returned, rested, and slept. When Encrid woke, Aesia came to see him.

"What have you been up to?"

She couldn't hide her astonishment. It wouldn't be because he had sparred with Sir Oara. It must be the report she'd received after a good night's sleep, right? Upon entering the city, he'd said they'd killed off two colonies and the deserter who had evolved into a supposed religious leader. Word would have reached her by now.

Perceptive and quick-witted, Encrid grasped the meaning behind Aesia's question and gave an appropriate answer.

"I've been completing the commissions."

As he spoke, he carefully wiped his blade with an oiled cloth—one soaked in fine linseed oil, to be precise.

The food in this city was nothing special, but its weapon-care supplies weren't bad. They were excellent. It was as though everyone here had gathered to die fighting. Was that only fitting, since the city itself was a barracks? Perhaps it was.

At his matter-of-fact reply, Aesia asked, "In two days?"

Her hand moved naturally to her waist and found her sword's grip. Resting her hand there calmed her somewhat. She wasn't trying to find fault, but how could he be this good at his job?

Encrid sat on a stump outside his assigned lodgings. Aesia wore light clothes with only a sword at her waist. A thick leather mat lay before the stump, his weapons spread across it. He was oiling and tending to them one by one. Weapon maintenance was important. As important as training.

"Isn't two days enough?" Encrid replied.

"Hah."

Aesia drew a breath of disbelief. She'd known these bastards could fight, but this was a different ability altogether. Wasn't this tracking on par with a first-rate ranger? Of course, Thousand Brick had possessed a few excellent soldiers of ranger caliber. They'd just left with the deserter Jack the Swordsman.

So they were better fighters than her, and good at tracking too? Well, good was good. Encrid's work had given her some breathing room. She no longer had to tussle with those harpy bastards to defend the city.

She'd been planning to leap off the wall and cut down those damned winged monster bastards the next time they attacked. Thinking about it, it wasn't impossible. Though there was still the problem of scrambling back up the wall after cutting one down.

"You really are good at your job."

As Aesia voiced her newfound appreciation, another visitor approached from behind her.

Aesia wore short sleeves, but her clothes were properly tied and fastened, leaving little skin exposed beyond her forearms. The newcomer, however, was dressed boldly. She wore a thin shirt that offered glimpses of cleavage and short trousers that left her knees entirely bare. It was the knight Oara. Shaking out her brown hair with one hand, she spoke.

"Hey, want to go have some fun?"

It was an unfathomable question. Encrid could infer the context behind Aesia's question, but not Oara's. He answered as he pleased.

"Are we sparring?"

If it was a fight, he welcomed it. Anytime. That determination was plain. With determination came presence. Once again, Aesia felt her muscles tense at the fighting spirit this man displayed. Nor could she simply let such a presence pass. It was a show of spirit that made her want to fight him.

"Not today."

But Oara refused firmly. Encrid stared at her. If not to spar, why had she come?

"It's the Sabbath."

"What's that?"

"Work seven days, then rest for one. It's a god's teaching."

There was a god who said such things. Encrid had picked up a little about it himself. As she spoke, Oara held up her necklace. It contained no divine power, but bore the symbol of a religious order. Oara was devout.

'Audin would like that.'

Rather than rejecting someone for worshipping a different god, Audin would enjoy exchanging religious views.

"I hear you made short work of everything. Time to have some fun, then."

Oara's brown eyes looked straight at him, their corners curving gently. Knowing her temperament well enough, Aesia kept quiet.

Smiling, Oara pinched the front of her shirt and fanned it a few times. It was certainly hot enough to leave sweat streaming down one's body. Today was muggy again, the sort of weather that made one wish it would at least rain. Being a knight didn't make her immune to heat or cold, and she sweated too. A faint sheen of sweat trickled down her neck.

"Many people will be saddened if you let your eyes wander."

Luagarne spoke from one side, where she held dried herbs to her nose, thoroughly absorbed in their scent.

"Is that a drug?"

Encrid asked with concern. Luagarne puffed out her cheeks. She was smiling.

"It's an herb that makes one feel good, but not a drug humans use. To humans, it's closer to poison."

Why was she talking nonsense if she wasn't high? Oara looked at Encrid and spoke.

"Rest when it's time to rest, work when it's time to work. That's my way—Oara's way. So now it's time for you to have fun."

It sounded forced, but she wasn't wrong. Hadn't Encrid learned long ago that rest mattered too? Luagarne had recently taught him how to broaden his perspective as well. Rest didn't just mean resting the body. Mental rest was important too.

"I'll show you around the city, handsome. Come along."

At Oara's suggestion, Encrid started putting away the things on the leather mat one by one, then spoke.

"Dunbachel."

"What?"

"Put these away."

Without a squire of his own, he had no suitable person to delegate chores to. Dunbachel didn't say anything like, "Why me?" She generally did whatever Encrid asked.

"Aesia, I hear the winged lunatics are gone and the sulfur-stinking mutt is dead too. You must have time. Come with us."

Oara roped Aesia in as well.

Encrid rose from his seat. Off to one side, Rem looked up from meticulously sharpening an axe blade.

"Go on. I'm busy."

Rem spoke, then devoted himself to honing the blade with a whetstone. It was a familiar sight, but he seemed to be putting more effort into it this time.

"All right."

Encrid nodded and set off.

"How did you find the colonies?"

Oara asked as she walked over the damp earth. Her low boots left her ankles bare and looked very light. Looking at them, Encrid answered.

"I have a Beastman with a good nose and a soldier who's good at finding people."

Oara pursed her lips with an appreciative "Oh," then listened more closely. She was attentive. Encrid gave a brief explanation, sticking to the essentials. What was there to say about killing the colony leaders? They'd found them and killed them. That was all.

The three strolled along, then stopped outside a tavern. It was noisy. Amid the boisterous chatter came shouts of encouragement and curses.

"I've got money on you, Ruben!"

"Lose and you're dead, you idiot! No!"

Something seemed to be going on.

"I lifted the drinking ban," Oara said.

The tavern was packed. In the middle of the crowd, two bald men had their hands clasped together, straining. They were arm-wrestling.