Prince Leron did not know that he has slept for 5 days straight when he was bitten again by Vladstin. For 5 days, the survivors of the Undead War had journeyed across the dangerous woods as they were led and protected by the Noble Huntsmen.
Every night, the people would settle down and camp with several Noble Huntsmen in patrol duty. The people who have medical knowledge, no matter how small it is, tried their best to heal the sick and injured. There was no distinction between the rich and the poor anymore, all of them are survivors of a catastrophe. The only authoritative figure that matters is Sangfroid and his Noble Huntsmen.
In the morning, the Huntsmen and brave men and women would hunt in teams for food to feed the others. Some would forage for edible plants and herbal ones. Some used the weapons they have left and their strength to chase wild boars and rabbits.
There are times when a father would feel like he was not hunting enough to feed his family, and so he would stubbornly leave the group and hunt alone. Some of these fathers lost their lives.
"I'm sorry, Madam. But he wouldn't listen, and rushed into the other side and were not able to find him in time. His remains are being carried by my men as we speak." This was the third time Sangfroid had to explain to a widowed woman that her husband is not coming home.
"It's because you brats keep complaining that you're hungry!" The woman yelled at the three small children who were sobbing from their father's death. "If you didn't whine so much, he wouldn't have recklessly ventured into the woods for you!"
"Wahhhh! Daddy!" The middle one said.
The woman raised her hand to slap them, but Sangfroid grabbed her hand.
"Madam, I know it's not my place, but please don't blame the children. It is understandable that they would be hungry because resources are low and shared among everyone. " Sangfroid said.
"They killed my husband! They're the reason the man I loved died!" The woman screamed like a banshee, ready to attack her children if she had the chance.
"It was your husband's choice to separate from the group. His decision. He died a good father." Sangfroid reminded.
The woman wallowed in tears, collapsing to the ground. "My Fernan! Bring me back my Fernan! I only had those brats so that he would keep on loving me, and now he's gone! What's the point of taking care of them if he's not here!?"
Sangfroid let her go and frowned. He surrounded the crying children protectively as the devastated family waited for the corpse. When the corpse of Fernan arrived, the woman rushed to him and hugged and kissed the cold corpse.
The children wanted to touch their father as well, one last time, but she lashed out to them. She hugged Fernan's head protectively. "Don't you dare go near them, you little murderers!"
"Wahhhhhh! Mom, we want to see dad!" The kids pleaded, but she wouldn't listen.
"Rothfir." Sangfroid called out. "Take these children away from that woman for now. If she still shows signs of aggression after a week, find them a new person that will take care of them."
Rothfir nodded. "Yes, chief."
"Where's his satchel!?" The crazed woman yelled. "You thieves, did you stole a dead man's satchel!?"
The accused Noble Huntsmen raised their hands in confusion. "We didn't steal anything! He doesn't have a satchel when he was found!"
"Lies! I bought that satchel for him, he keeps his rations and flask of water there!" The woman yelled.
Asver rubbed the back of his head, trying to calm her down. "Perhaps it got carried by the boar that attacked him, or any wild animal. Animals tend to do that, some birds scour and hoard objects for their nests."
"I don't need explanations! You thieves probably got hungry and ate the contents for yourself!" The woman still did not stop blindly accusing them. "I don't need that damn satchel anyway! I want my husband's life back!"
The Noble Huntsman could only leave her alone for a while. The tension had cleared, but it still remained. It remained every single day that the survivors traveled outside their homes. Grief was everywhere, along with rage, regret, and sorrow. The pitiful people of Ilvedia still moved forward.
A raven made a sadistic croak as it watched all the chaos.
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Sangfroid could barely sleep at night. He is a strong man, but a human nonetheless. He had his limits. Along with the Noble Huntsmen, he grew up with, he is the de facto leader of ten dozen caravans of survivors who relied on him to lead the way and clear the path.
It made his head hurt, but he endured it. And it had only been 5 days.
The only thing that kept him going was the thought of saving his beloved Prince Leron, and the possibility of convincing Vladstin to go to the Hermit and wish to turn back to human.
He is not a good speaker, his voice and features were inexpressive so it makes it easy for people to misunderstand him. When it comes to speaking to the masses, he relied on Rothfir. When it comes to delivering the truth that people did not want to hear, he relied on Asver. He really didn't know what he will do if not for the Noble Huntsmen on his side.
The Noble Huntsmen already knew how much pressure and burden their young Chief was carrying. They advised him not to join the night rounds anymore, and rest. But even then, Sangfroid could not possibly sleep with all the thoughts in his head, and his anxieties for tomorrow.
How would he convince fathers like Fernan to stop separating from the group and hunting on their own? How would he expand their resource?
"It's hard taking care of stubborn mules who follow their own minds, isn't it?"
Sangfroid immediately turned around in the direction of the sound.
"Did you gain grey hair just from these few days? The next time you know, you'll be having wrinkles as well."
Sangfroid's instincts made him want to reach out for his dagger, but he stopped himself. He stood straight and still, facing the direction where he last heard the voice in his small personal tent. "Show yourself. I want to talk to you."
"Talk to me? Hahahaha, that's new!"
Vladstin materialized in front of him, like he was merely part of the air.
"Most of the time all you ever wanted to do is to kill me. What changed?" Vladstin's amber eyes sparkled in intrigue.
"The people are suffering because of the attack, and they need me to make the right decisions. That's what changed." Sangfroid clenched his fist, stopping himself from punching Vladstin's smug face away that was too close for comfort.
"So you have become their new king then." Vladstin said. "That's good. I have been rooting for you to take leadership since the start."
"I am not a king. I am merely serving the people because no one else can. My only king is the one who's next in line for the throne, the one you took away from me." Sangfroid glared. "Where is Leron?"
"In my stomach, I ate him." Vladstin jested.
"If you don't want to tell me, then just listen and consider to my requests." Sangfroid inhaled deeply as Vladstin circled him curiously like he was a rare treasure or like he had grown two horns.
Vladstin chuckled. "You're making requests now? To me? Hahahahaha! That's the most hilarious thing I've ever heard since I was reborn!"
Vladstin cackled and held his head back as he did, hugging his stomach like it was really the funniest thing in the world. His laughter woke up the sleeping Ilvedians, and they start to protectively embrace their loved ones in fear.
"I'm serious, Vladstin. Please consider it." Sangfroid said as sincerely as he can, but he really was too stoic for this kind of negotiation.
"Is that begging I hear? Doesn't sound like it." Vladstin flicked the fluff of hair covering his face. "Talk to me when you start to sound more believable."
"What do you want me to do to listen to me?" Sangfroid said. "No matter what, do not harm Leron. Please."
"You're worrying for the wrong type of person. A good guy like you should not care about such an undeserving traitor, that meek, little snake." Vladstin's mouth dripped in venomous anger whenever he spoke about Leron. There was once a time when everything that came out of his mouth was praises and admiration for Leron, but that past Vladstin was already dead.
"Leron was being threatened by his father, the king. The king should be our common enemy, not Leron. Let him go. " Sangfroid reasoned.
"Ah, yes. The King of Ilvedia. Don't worry, I have my own plans for him." Vladstin twirled a lock of Sangfroid's hair. "He did not make much of an impression on me when I first saw him, probably because my consciousness was fading from losing a lot of blood."
He added: "But, you should hold a bigger grudge to this king more than you do now."
"What do you mean?" Sangfroid asked.
Vladstin procured a parchment from only his fingers, like a parlor magician. He grinned. "I had my corpse puppets find this for me when they rampaged the castle. I had always been interested in what kind of curious items the King's quarters hold, so I had the place ransacked to the smallest detail."
Sangfroid's eyebrows knitted. "What is that?"
Vladstin dead golden eyes twinkled with delight as he made a wide, crescent-shape smile.
"Sangfroid, have you ever wondered why you became an orphan?"
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