The clangor of the ox's hooves hitting against the ground merged in one with the rattle of the swaying cart. With each rut in the path, the cart would bend on either side sending the hay laden on it shaking alongside the two men seated against the rims of the cart. Only the hatted farmer pulling the reins of the ox had some semblance of comfort in his seating.
It was a rough ride, but the two men weren't unversed with it. Long and uncomfortable rides in such carts, longer and more uncomfortable walks through worse terrains, and even more long and even more uncomfortable battles with their lives on the line all for a measly gold coin that they may or may not get, that was the life of an adventurer.
"Whatcha thinking, Quinton?" The bald adventurer asked his comrade as he tried to oil his axe in the shaking carriage. His lanky friend was unusually quiet today. "Afraid of the quest? You do remember we just have to scout, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's not that." Quinton shook his hands from side to side. He turned his gaze up and stared at the lines of the golden sunlight passing through the cracks in the leaves of the forest. "The news of the Otherworldly heroes… I am having a hard time believing it."
"Ah…" Jamie, the bald adventurer, nodded his head and lowered his ax. "Two and a half years, huh? Who would have imagined that there would be heroes chosen by the gods living amongst us for two and a half years."
"I hear they studied in the Empire's Ayn Academy and graduated as top students," Quinton's gaze remained elsewhere as he half-heartedly muttered what he had heard. "The hero even managed to outdo the sword saint's son. And that one of the Heroes had the [Archmage] class…"
"Heh…" Jamie rested his elbows on the rims of the cart and let his head hang back.
They were but two C-Ranked adventurers in a small town of a small kingdom, heck, their kingdom wasn't even a proper one, being a vassal state of another. Heroes… it was a word unimaginable to them, a life so different that they couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like to be in their shoes.
Jamie and Quinton sat in silence for a short while, maybe they were daydreaming, or maybe they were cursing their luck, or maybe they were not thinking of anything, knowing that it would get them anywhere.
"Hey pops," Jamie called out to the hatted farmer as he stretched his neck to see around the hay. "How much further do you go?"
"Ay sonny," the farmer answered. "It's safe 'round these parts. Lotsa fresh weeds in this forest ye never seen before."
"And just to confirm, it's been three days, right?"
"Aye…" the farmer said. "Three days, since we last seen the mist."
Jamie hummed and leaned back again. "Three days since the Mystic Forest's mist surfaced. Something like this hasn't happened in a hundred years—"
"—Thousand," Quinton interjected.
"Fucking thousand."
Jamie and Quinton couldn't shake off the bad feeling from the Mystic Forest, and neither could the higher-ups of all the kingdoms that the forest connected to. If the Mystic Forest opened up, a vast amount of land and resources would follow, but just what kind of horrors lurked in this place that no one dared cross for a thousand years now?
"Woop!"
The ox bellowed as the farmer pulled its reins back and forced it into a sudden stop.
"Tsk." Jamie clicked his tongue and clutched the axe in one hand as he jumped off the cart. Quinton, at the same time, picked up his bow and took a knee stance on the cart behind the cover of the hay.
"What is it?" Jamie asked the farmer.
"A-a body! It's a body!"
Jamie's eyes fell on the limp body against the ground a few gaits away from the cart. The golden sunlight gently passed through the veil of the trees and caressed the auburn hair and rosy lips, as if wrapping the pale skin in its embrace. As a lock of hair fell off from the top and swayed in front of the closed eyes, Jamie's heart skipped a beat.
His eyes traced downward, at the soft, unblemished fingers supporting the head, the slightly worn down, yet beautifully fitting clothes that veiled the person, as the slow movements of the chest as the person in front of him took languid breaths.
"It's not a body…" he muttered, slowly walking toward the person. "S-she's alive…"
Jamie kneeled next to the auburn-haired person and pushed back the locks of hair falling in front. Had a goddess descended? That must be the only explanation. Jamie's mind somehow geared back to when he was just a wee kid of fifteen when he had first seen the daughter of the first duke of the Empire. He thought that was the most beautiful person he had seen in his life, so surely, the one in front of him must not be a person.
"Jamie! Step back!"
Quinton's voice cut through the air and snapped Jamie out of his head.
"Why would someone be here? In the middle of the Mystic Forest?"
A chill ran down Jamie's back at Quinton's words. He was so enamored that he completely lost track of the place he was in and the mission he was on. Unfortunately, Quinton's voice seemed to have snapped someone else out of their head as the sleeping person's eyelashes fluttered. The person slowly pushed against the ground and sat up, the sunlight gleamed on the person's shoulder as the shoulder of the shirt slid off to the side.
A blink.
Another.
"HAH!? Humans!??"
A soft voice, the perfect pitch neither high nor low.
Jamie clutched his axe and jumped backward as the person in front of him awoke. What was it? A demon? A mirage monster?
"Hey, you…" the person called out to Jamie, innocently staring at him with an upturned gaze. "Is this the end of the Mystic Forest?"
"M-Mystic Forest… Yes, it is—UMF"
Like a warhorse ramming into an unsuspecting infantry, a force akin to a wrecking ball smashed into Jamie's side. The experienced adventurer twisted his body to mitigate the damage, but even the little impact that hurt him sent him flying through the path and into the trees on the side.
A clack rang out.
Jamie groaned against the tree.
A pitch black cloak fluttered in the wind.
Slowly, the red-haired man with a nasty grin lowered his feet after kicking the adventurer.
"Morning, Elric," he said, his eyes boorishly looking at the fallen adventurer.
"Oh. Morning, Claude," the auburn-haired beauty responded, stretching his hands above his head while stifling a yawn.
Right then, a whistle spread through the air as an arrow zapped toward Claude, aiming straight for his brain. Without as much as turning his head, Claude swung his hand in the air and grabbed the approaching arrow.
"What—"
The arrow snapped in his hand. The tail fell to the ground while the head spun toward his thumb. In one fluid motion from grabbing and breaking, Claude pulled his hand back and threw the arrow to his side.
The arrowhead coursed through the wind the way it came over. It passed by the crouching farmer and tore into the stack of hay before grazing cleanly through Quinton's cheeks. The adventurer held his breath and stopped in his track.
Claude yawned too after seeing Elric as he trudged his way over to the bald adventurer planted inside a tree. His black coat fluttered once more as he raised his leg and rested it on the adventurer's chest.
Jamie slowly opened his eyes through the pain. Staring down at him was a gaze he had never faced before. A scar ran down one eye of the red-haired man while his lips were frozen in a grin. Despite the playfulness in his face, his eyes showed not the slightest hint of interest. As if they had seen through everything, as if it was all inconsequential.
"You," the man called out.
"Y-ahk… Yes?" Jamie coughed up some phlegm and blood as he answered the man in a weak voice.
"Is this the end of the Mystic Forest?"
"W-we are near the edges…"
"Did you come from a town?"
"Yes. Two villages over… from the Leunderk Town…"
"Is there good food and a bed in that town?"
Good food and a bed?
"I-I believe so…"
The man closed his eyes and crossed his arms, not lifting his feet off Jamie's chest. "Alright. Take us there."