"Are you sure you're going to do this?" asked Joan Milner, the cook, with a tone of concern.
Victor was adjusting the leather sheath belt around his waist. He pulled firmly on the end with the buckle, making sure that everything was securely fastened. Then he raised his eyes and looked at Joan.
"I'm grateful for your concern, Joan. You're a great friend and coincidentally the person who makes the best venison stew I've ever had, but you know I don't have a choice. Wanda may not be dead, but because she's missing, she's certainly in danger. I need to help her."
Despite his succinct reply, Joan didn't seem any more relieved than before. Her lowered eyebrows and her gaze towards the ground revealed how unsure her heart was. So Victor could almost hear her thoughts.
'She's probably thinking that if Wanda, who is a Rank-S, is in danger, what chance would I have of being able to help her? Well, she's not wrong. At best, I'm still equivalent to a Rank-B Hunter, but I just can't stay here and do nothing.' Victor thought, scratching his beard slightly.
In the Athina Kingdom, there was the profession of Hunter, professional responsible for hunting monsters. All Hunters had to be registered with the Hunters' Association in order to be able to obtain services and contracts. Based on an initial skills test and the services rendered, Hunter's rank could rise or fall from F-rank to S-rank.
The fact that Victor was a Rank-B meant that he was stronger than most Hunters and ordinary people, but it also meant that there were still thousands of people stronger than him in this world.
"Anyway, there's no need to worry, Joan. I'll immediately send you a letter when I find Wanda and make sure she's all right."
"Humph... I really hope so. If you don't come back, I swear I'll change the name of your tavern to 'Ass of the World'."
"What? No, please don't do that!" Victor put his hands together as if he were praying and bowed his head, almost pleading.
"Well then, keep your promise. Now, take this and go quickly, your ride won't wait forever." She lifted out an etamine bag full of food, both fruit and pieces of pie. "The journey to Kozáni will be long, so you'll need this."
Victor took the bag and thanked her with a smile. Then, as he climbed into the back of the wagon that would be his ride, Victor waved to Joan and also to Corstine, who was still very shaken by the recent news.
"Are you ready, Victor?" Marcos, the only merchant who usually traveled from afar to Serenity, asked, sitting on the coachman's seat with the reins in his hands.
Victor, with his beard and grey hair, nodded.
Marcos smiled and flicked the reins so the horse could start pulling the cart. "All right! Kozáni, here we go!"
Marcos was an ordinary man and someone peculiar at the same time. With just enough hair to cover the sides of his head and a generous paunch showing through his tunic, he looked like any other merchant, only he had the courage that few men in this world had.
The village of Serenity, where Victor Shieldman had lived for the last twenty years, was right on the border that divided the Athina Kingdom from the Dark Continent.
The Dark Continent bore this name because it was a place full of mysteries and dark legends. During the night, the lands near this border would be bathed in a dense mist imbued with a magical aura, the origins of which were unknown even in the oldest records. What's more, the Continent was not a safe place even for Rank-S Hunters, so anyone approaching Serenity, or any other village close to the border with this place, needed a great deal of courage or determination, perhaps both.
Victor, a man hardened by life and scarred by battles, found refuge in Serenity precisely because of this. After all, anyone so close to the border with the Dark Continent wasn't worried about anything else.
Anyway, Victor's journey to Kozáni began with the creaking of the wagon's axles, while the bumps in the uneven terrain made his bones tremble accordingly. Sitting in the back of Marcos' wagon, amidst all the merchant's luggage, Victor gazed at the landscape, watching the dust that rose along the way as they moved away from the woods where Serenity Village was hidden.
The cool wind whispered through the trees and the cart continued on its way. The main road, lined with tall, stately oaks, escorted them to the open fields and plains.
Victor took advantage of the momentary tranquillity to clean his sword, which by the way had not been drawn for a long time. The scabbard of Victor's sword was like all the others, made only of old leather and a little tough, but the sword itself had an unusual subtlety as it bore a honey-colored crystal on its silver pommel. Victor gazed appreciatively at the blade, which made it impossible not to look at his own reflection.
"Shit, I'm old." He muttered, seeing the grey hair and scars.
However, the tranquillity of the journey was soon interrupted by a surprise factor. Further along the dirt road, there were two men, a buffalo, and an apparently broken-down cart blocking the way.
Victor looked at Marcos with a frown, because this could well be a thieves' trap, but the merchant didn't look back. Instead, Marcos stopped the carriage a few meters away, got down, and waved to the men.
"Hello, Daseph! It's you, isn't it!" Marcos asked with a shout and a smile on his face.
The one who seemed to be the older of the two men in trouble looked in the direction of the voice that he heard, squinted his eyes, and recognized Marcos' chubby face.
"Oh, that's Marcos!"
"What happened there, man?" Marcos asked, stepping closer.
"One of our wheels has broken!" Daseph, an old man with thin, dry cheeks, replied. "You're tough, aren't you? My son here just needs a strong helping hand to hold the cart while he puts the spare wheel in place!"
A bead of sweat ran down Marcos' face when he saw the condition of the wagon wheel. He wasn't as tough or strong as his belly made others realise.
"I'll do it." Victor offered, and his voice suddenly appearing in the conversation startled Marcos, who jumped.
"Ouch! Where the fuck did you come from, Victor?" said Marcos with a hand on the left side of his chest.
"Well, I've been following you since you got off the wagon."
...
The silence lasted for a few seconds, because neither Marcos nor Daseph, and certainly not Daseph's big idiot son, realised Victor was there until he volunteered.
"Victor, that's your name, right? Please help us. Rumour has it that yesterday a horde of undead destroyed a small village nearby, and I don't want to be stranded on the road if they suddenly decide to come this way."
Victor nodded and looked at the broken wagon. "The wheel can still be fixed, but the axle is broken. It'll take ten bronze coins to fix it." Victor held out his hand, expecting payment.
"What? Are you going to charge me for that?" Daseph asked, shocked.
Even Marcos was surprised, but he didn't decide to interfere. As a merchant, he knew he shouldn't influence a negotiation that wasn't his.
"You don't expect an old man like me to work for you for free, do you? I'm no longer a young fool who likes to hand out favors, I need to feed myself, and food in inns isn't cheap."
Daseph looked at Marcos, who whistled, pretending not to hear, and then took a deep breath. "Very well, it's a fair price given the urgency and the shortage of skilled labor. You know how to negotiate, mate."
So Daseph placed a small handful of bronze coins on Victor's palm.
A few minutes later, the axle and wheel were completely fixed and Daseph's carriage was running like new with his strong buffalo pulling it. They waved goodbye and headed off in opposite directions.
Marcos and Victor managed to go on for a couple of hours without any further problems, at least until they entered a misty valley full of trees and a somewhat bumpy road. The sounds of birds were completely silenced, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the blowing of the wind that echoed everywhere.
The cart moved along the winding road calmly, until a sound made Victor's right ear twitch.
"Marcos, stop the carriage."
The merchant obeyed immediately, pulling on the horse's reins. Then he saw Victor point with his face to the part of the valley to their left, where, despite the mist, it was possible to see movement and, even more vividly, a shapeless mass of undead slowly creeping across the valley, in a part a little lower down.
Marcos frowned. "Looks like Daseph wasn't exaggerating. A real horde."
Victor got down from the bench next to Marcos, walked to the edge of the hill, and once at the top he could see the true size of the horde. A large number of almost skeletal and decomposed creatures were moving around in disarray with a melancholy murmur accompanying them.
"If there were five or six, I could handle it, but there are fifty or more. A much larger horde than usual," said Victor with a calm expression.
"This is a walking nightmare," muttered Marcos, shuddering at the macabre sight. "I've never seen so many of them gathered together, it's like the Great Horde."
"If it were the Great Horde, this whole valley would look like one big anthill." Victor replied.
The Great Horde was a gigantic horde of undead that roamed the world, considered one of the Seven Calamities, and no matter where it went, it destroyed everything and everyone. There wasn't a single person in the world, Rank-S Hunter or not, who could face a Calamity, no wonder so many kingdoms had already been destroyed since the Great Horde appeared over five hundred years ago.
"Let's keep quiet and wait until the horde has passed completely through the valley. We don't want to attract unnecessary attention and lose your supplies and the horse," suggested Victor, looking for a more hidden position among the trees in the valley where they could hide.