Chapter 5: Digging for bones

A veil of stars hung above E-Naeurl. Some citizens still roamed the streets. They wandered listless, their empty gazes no different than the undead horde outside. They knew of their enemy and they'd heard of his might. Two hundred thousand had perished and the echoes of their deaths were nothing short of nightmares. The kingdom's forces had been obliterated in ways which humanity could not comprehend: ants crushed by giants.

That abomination had set its deathly gaze upon the Kingdom of Re-Estize. In a show of force, its tendrils had reached all the way to E-Naeurl. Not because it needed to crush the northern port town, but simply because it could.

The weight of such dread was too heavy to bear, and most chose to ignore it. They continued to follow their day to day, unwilling to accept that their city's barricades had become the walls of their coffin.

The undertaker made its way to E-Naeurl – hammer and nails in hand.

Scama Elbero cursed the being capable of wreaking such havoc in the foulest ways. Disgust welled in her throat, knowing that if she were to fail, most of these people would never know rest – their corpses forever doomed to serve the Sorcerer King. Horrid as it was, the concept of battles and wars were not foreign to her. Even now, the Sorcerer King had taken allies and vassals. Were he such an abomination, could humans truly find refuge under his protection?

Aren't we just standing on the losing side of this battle?

What was there to gain in opposing the Sorcerer King's conquest of E-Naeurl? The preserving of innocent lives. That much she believed in. Further still–

This may be a chance at increasing Four Armament's renown.

Others had done it. Darkness' meteoric rise stood out as a modern-day legend. In two months, the group had climbed the ranks and secured themselves as the third Adamantite-ranked adventurer team in the Kingdom. The pair were heroes. Momon the warrior and Nabe the magic caster had stood toe to toe with threats no other human could withstand – and with all their strength and talents…

They joined forces with the Sorcerer King.

It wasn't that simple. She'd heard it countless times already. Momon had dared challenge the Sorcerer King's Prime Minister. He'd staked his life to protect the people of E-Rantel and out of admiration for his abilities, the Sorcerer King had made him the city's enforcer.

But Scama didn't concern herself for such frivolous interpretations. She looked at the events, rationally, and saw how they'd all benefited the warrior of Black.

I should also aspire to secure Four Armament's future. Reaching the highest rank is nothing if one of us were to die as a result. More than anything… It needs to be in our self-interest as well.

And that meant only one thing.

If we can't defend this city, we'll have to abandon it and flee.

"Silver lady! I want to come with you!"

Scama recognized the voice, unfortunately. She'd heard it for the first time less than an hour ago, and already it had marked her mind. She saw him jogging up towards her, that bulky man who would be their second frontliner. What was his goal? What was he after? Thinking thusly helped soothe Scama's mind – as she figured his intentions were obvious. It irked her slightly, looking at that man and immediately recognizing his nature.

The mirror image of someone very close to her.

She continued to march forth, set on scouting the city's perimeter before the invasion. How realistic were her chances of surviving this attack?

"That's a nice group you got there!"

He walked beside her now, annoyingly nonchalant about following her in the middle of the night. Some men just couldn't discern the adventurer from the woman. She held onto her silence, firmly.

Sitri would have to make do with the clatter of her full-plate armor as response.

"There's one thing I have to ask you though—"

Dense as a brick wall. She figured he'd be the type. Never matter. He'd learn his lesson like the rest of the unworthy. Nothing he said or did would bait her into entertaining his drivel.

"—Your pink-haired friend. Does she euh… not like guys? If you and her are together, I completely understand. Not a problem with me, whatsoever."

"Knave! How could your brain even fathom that absurd thought!? I'd never indulge in such proclivities! She's into younger men, nothing more!"

Scama stopped in her tracks and hung her head in shame.

"Gahahahaha! So that's what it is! What a relief! Well, I'm glad you told me. That's a load off my mind!"

His obnoxious guffaw only sunk her deeper into her misery. If she weren't quick to adapt, she'd fall into his pace. Another strategy was needed posthaste.

"If you don't mind, your presence is distracting me. I would rather survey the city alone."

"That's the point! You – Silver Lady – I've decided to be your hero! In exchange for taking care of this invasion, I want you to be my woman!"

Sigh. He finally came out and said it.

It wasn't every day men openly declared their supposed desire for her. Scama knew that her looks and strength were factors of attraction, but most knew their place and kept at a distance. While she considered every member of Four Armaments an ally and a trusted friend, never once had the spark of romance ignited between any of them. Lilynette's peculiar tastes were reason enough to dissuade most, however Scama understood there was more to it.

She had never felt the need for it. Whatever benefits romance could give her were wholly unrelated to her goals and ambitions.

When Scama Elbero pondered the word dream – it did not involve a man.

Dealing with this man, however, would undoubtedly prove troublesome. Was she certain his hair wasn't secretly pink as well? That much wouldn't surprise her at this point. In order to deal with him intelligently, she continued to probe at him for weaknesses.

"Why me?" She did not wait for his answer, resuming her march across the town's coastal boulevard.

But the man was undeterred. He followed her close by, matching whichever pace she took.

"Asking something like that… Lady Scama, you underestimate me! I won't waste your time with fluff, so here it is!"

Sitri stopped her in her tracks. He stood squarely in front of her – a head taller. His shoulders covered her width, even with the armor she wore. For that man to carry such a frame, he at least had to know of effort and work. In a way, he looked like a younger version of Count Naüa. Not exactly unattractive, but far from a man who'd stand out by his beauty. Still, he had boldness to spare. She watched as he held her pauldrons in place and looked straight into her eyes.

"A Mithril-ranked adventurer coming to this town in the midst of such a fearsome invasion? You're a woman of ambition. No one – and I know this much – no one could ever force you to do what goes against your will. You chose to come here, you decided to brave the odds and defend these people – and you did so with a goal in mind. That kind of drive, that hunger…! That appetite for more! It sets me ablaze to see it up close."

"…"

…..….….

She wanted to ask him.

….….?

She wanted to ask him how? After only meeting her earlier in the day, how could he know so much?

Calm down. This is a trick. It's simple; this has nothing to do with what he knows. He's crudely spelling out what he already saw. I'm the one projecting those traits; he's merely observing them and repeating them to me.

Cunning. But again, she risked him pulling her along for the ride. That is, until—

"Also your hair! I mean, come on! That beautiful silver hair! My silver gauntlet! It's a perfect match! Don't even get me started on the fact that you're this strong! I bet your back muscles are super carved out! What kind of man wouldn't want to taste such fruits! I'll be the first to admit it! I'm guilty! Gahahahaha!"

—Scama smiled with him. Too busy laughing at his own words, Sitri didn't notice her carefully brushing her own armored fingers against his wrist.

"I see. Nothing will dissuade you, it seems. Come with me then, you loudmouth. Let's scale the city walls together."

This nearly sent Sitri into a state of shock. He recoiled, hands up at his sides. "Huh? Really? Alright! Yeah, I'll come with!"

Scama's expression had changed. Her face was no longer this impenetrable wall – devoid of anything but her razor-sharp focus. A smile painted her lips, reminding those around that a woman donned that armor. The shift had happened so fast – the perfect key to the right lock – and so Scama continued down the alley with Sitri at her side.

Half-dormant, the city of E-Naeurl offered the pair a pathway of overhead lights to follow all the way to its borders. The passage to climb atop the city walls was cramped and its ascent unforgiving of any stumble. Sitri insisted that Scama climb those stairs first.

"So I can catch you in my arms if you fall!"

And so she did, carefully navigating her steps until she made it atop the southern rampart. What would've been a plain, but otherwise enjoyable view of the demesne and its plentiful lands turned into a grotesque sight. A miasma of death loomed towards E-Naeurl.

Arms crossed in front of her chest, Scama motioned at the horde of undead trudging onwards.

"Have you ever fought the undead before?"

"Not in person, no." Sitri answered something nonsensical.

"The undead do not know fear. They do not know of hunger, worry, doubt. Those corpses have been raised to take over this city – and they will stop at nothing until their goal is accomplished."

Sitri nodded, intensely focused on Scama's words – or rather the light shades of pink from which her words spilled.

"The first thing you will notice when striking at an undead is that their body will not stop moving, not until their head is pulverized. Many adventurers have succumbed to that carelessness before. They will slice off an arm or a leg, only to watch as the corpse pierces into their flesh with its weapon."

Scama prodded Sitri's neck with an armored fingertip.

"You're not wearing any armor."

Again, Sitri nodded. "I can't. Don't need it anyway."

Furrowing her brow for a moment, Scama understood what he implied. "You're a monk. That explains your fist armament."

She spoke with unyielding confidence. A pale moonlight illuminated her splendor atop the city walls. Her aura imbued the word: heroine. A careful breeze would brush along her argent mane. More than a fighter, she was fit to be a Valkyrie, her eyes rigidly set on the undead.

"A magic-imbued weapon might nonetheless pierce through your hardened flesh. Ghouls can inflict paralysis with their claw attacks. Wraiths are capable of life-steal. There is no telling what kind of trick the Sorcerer King's army will have up its sleeve. If you can, try not to let yourself be surrounded by the enemy."

"Thank you, mom."

Scama scoffed, turning to Sitri with a storm growing on her brow. "Am I boring you?"

"What!? No! I was saying that in a good way! All men love their mothers!"

Needless to say, Scama's expression soured.

"Why are you giving me that look? I didn't mean it in a weird way! It's just… nice. Having someone looking out for you."

She shook her head, trying her best to forget the idiocies that came from his mouth.

"There." Scama pointed far out in the distance. Her target was barely visible, but it appeared to be a much larger undead carrying a sword and a greatshield. "Those undead decimated the Kingdom's troops at the battle of Katze Plains. If you're able to avoid them entirely, then do so. Should you come into contact with one, attempt to dodge their blows as best you can."

Why am I wasting my breath? I already know how this will end… You poor fool.

"Do I even need to say it? A single slash of its blade will cut you in half. You'll die out there – and your body will either be devoured by the undead or you'll be risen up as one of their own."

Her words were meant to strike fear into Sitri's heart; Scama felt a bead of sweat rolling down her neck.

"The Sorcerer King has sent three – from what I'm able to see here. Three of those monsters, when his armies consisted of hundreds. Why do you think that is?"

Sitri stayed quiet.

"That's all our enemy thought necessary to crush this city. Three. Even two might've sufficed."

Scama's chest tightened.

"Sitri, I will tell you what I firmly believe will happen tomorrow." She challenged him to meet her words head on and to her surprise – the warrior accepted.

There he was, displaying his same ever-confident smile to her.

"If you remain atop the ramparts with the mage unit, you stand a chance of surviving this assault. The moment you set foot on that soil, your fate will be sealed. You will die – your dreams having slipped away from you."

Silver claws dropped atop Scama's hair. Sitri patted her head. Her reflexes were quick to move his hand aside. The warrior abided by her wishes, turning towards the horde of undead. Or rather, his gaze drifted upwards.

"I'll die one day. Same as anyone else. Though in my case, simply being able to reach out towards my dream is what gives me life. Every second spent seeking it out fills my chest with this passion. Passion akin to ecstasy."

Scama stood behind him in silence. A foolish and simpleminded answer, one she should've seen coming from a mile away.

It's about the journey, not the destination? Hmph. What a child.

She was fine with ending the conversation there, but the warrior continued.

"Think of it like a dog digging for bones in the backyard! Each time it finds one, it gets all happy! It enjoys it, then goes back to digging for more bones!"

Her expressionless moue turned to a scowl.

"And in this case, you're the bone! Gahahaha!"

"Simpleton. You've just compared yourself to a dog."

But he laughed – and his glee reached up towards the skies.

"If I survive tomorrow's attack, will you be my woman then?"

"I will not. You could hide for the duration of the battle in that case."

It made sense, and so Sitri acquiesced. He pointed towards the battlefield instead, "How many of those large undead do I need to destroy to make you my woman? Is one enough?"

Scama pondered the question for a moment. "If you manage to take down all three of them, I'll entertain your request. Although I won't give up on my team or settle down as a housewife for you."

"Gahahaha! Deal! And seriously, you think I'd ask you to give up your ambitions – when they're what make you so attractive in the first place?"

"I'm simply ensuring you do not set yourself up for disappointment. Should you survive."

Their exchange naturally quelled. For nearly an hour, Scama continued to look at the battlefield, while Sitri gazed at her, as well as the skies.

Adventurers from across the realm entered into each other's lives without warning. Their fates could align for days – or sometimes for mere hours. What little moments these adventurers shared were as fleeting as the warmth of a hot meal.

Scama did not buy into his callow view of the world, but to say a part of her did not envy such a simple pursuit of happiness…

At this foolish man's side, the leader of Four Armaments managed to forget the impending doom. It loomed over her still, but like the ceaseless antics of a barking mutt, she found herself to be at the very least amused around him.

If anything, this man gave her hope. Knowing such a simpleton could stand here and jest as he did. It made her believe there was nothing to fear.

Two hundred thousand. How many of those were copies of this dunce?

Fatigue eventually weighed Scama's brow.

"Unlike the undead, our bodies require rest. Come, loudmouth. Let us take the night to recuperate."

Sitri gave her a formal salute – his version of an 'Aye aye, madam.' At the very least, he knew when to pack in his winnings. The two of them had spent some time in each other's company.

It wasn't all unpleasant either.

"All those things you said about the undead… Does that mean there's no chance of me ever having an undead bride?"

Sigh.

"Is that all you ever think about?"

…maybe not as many as I thought.