As the road that stretched out along the edge of the forest extended further north, it grew increasingly distant. Fearing potential dangers ahead, Leon and his companions dared not expose themselves to the open wilderness like they had earlier. Their path was forced to shift westward, gradually moving away from the well-trodden roads.
After navigating through dense forests with difficult and rugged terrain, the land ahead began to rise, and when they reached a cliff with no path forward, they realized they had unknowingly arrived at the edge of a canyon. Beyond, the view suddenly opened up.
Below the cliff was a vast and vibrant river valley plain.
However, the three of them had no interest in the breathtaking scenery in front of them. As they gazed into the distance, their eyes were immediately drawn to a chaotic scene that seemed to pollute the natural landscape.
Upstream along the river to the east, the tranquil river valley had completely transformed into a bloody battlefield.
On the far side of the land, rows upon rows of figures moved like swarming ants, banners fluttering in the breeze, and the metallic gleam of armor and swords reflected in the sunlight.
At the center of the battlefield, the deafening shouts of combat and the neighing of warhorses echoed above the riverbank, as groups of heavily armored cavalry weaved through the rain of arrows, charging fiercely. Infantry formations clashed again and again, leaving countless bodies strewn across the ground.
The booming sound of horns reached their ears, even from such a distance, and Leon could still hear it clearly.
Looking at the fierce battle unfolding in the distance between two enormous armies, Leon felt a moment of relief. Though they had lost their way in the forest, they were fortunate to have avoided the most dangerous area.
"Based on the scale of the battle, there must be thousands of soldiers. The army to the north should be from Orland," Azerian squinted, trying to discern the flags of the army on the battlefield, but from their position on the cliff, it was too far to make out details.
"Have we already crossed into Orland's territory? Is it a coincidence that the Kantadals are simultaneously fighting the northern people?" Lohak asked in confusion, scratching his head as he stared at the violent battle by the river.
"Although we're close to the border, I think we're still in the Mamor territory," Azerian said, pointing further northward toward the distant mountains. "If I'm not mistaken, that should be the Galak Mountains to the north of Mamor. That means we're still within Kantadal's domain."
"So, the battle up ahead... is not the Kantadals invading Orland, but rather Orland attacking Kantadal?" Leon speculated, stroking his chin.
In that case, his initial judgment wasn't entirely wrong; it was just that he hadn't considered the possibility that Orland would initiate the war against Kantadal.
"Ha! That's a good thing. I hope the Orlanders drown those bastards in blood." Lohak's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he looked back at the battlefield, wishing he could join the northern army and personally avenge his slain parents. "Tsk... If only I could join them right now."
Leon shook his head in exasperation. "What's the rush? Someone like you, trained in combat, will definitely have a chance to join their army once we reach Orland. Given that a war is happening, they'll likely be recruiting."
With that, they continued walking westward along the cliff.
As Azerian said, since they could see the Galak Mountains, they were very close to the border. Now, whether they went west or north, they could reach Orland's territory. However, the northern path was definitely not an option, so they had to attempt to navigate around the forest and detour.
...
After trudging through the forest to the west for an entire day, they found a nearby water source following the frequent traces of animal activity. After filling their water bottles, the three set up camp in a clearing near a large exposed rock.
Fortunately, luck was on their side. Before nightfall, Leon managed to catch an animal that resembled a fox near the water source. Since they had already run out of food, this creature was a welcome meal, and they finally had a hearty dinner.
Sitting around the campfire, passing the time before sleep, Leon casually asked his companions, "So, what are your plans once we get to Orland?"
Lohak stared ahead with a serious expression. "I have to find my sister. But I don't know where she is, so I want to join Orland's army first. That way, I can earn money, and with money, I can search for her. If I make enough on the battlefield, maybe I can even buy her freedom from her captors."
Leon was a bit surprised by Lohak's answer. He had assumed Lohak, full of hatred for the Kantadals, would seek to use violence to forcibly take his sister back.
Noticing Leon's astonished gaze, Lohak awkwardly added, "Hey, don't look at me like that. I've thought about what you said. You're right—I'm just one person, and if I blindly rush in, I'll just end up getting myself and my sister killed."
He tightened his grip on his sword. "Right now, the most important thing is rescuing my sister. As for the revenge for my parents' death... that can wait. There will always be a chance for those bastards to pay for what they did."
Leon looked at the reckless yet determined young man, feeling a slight sense of relief. Lohak had finally set a clear goal for survival.
"Joining Orland's army is one option," Azerian said as he added more branches to the fire. "But as for me, I'll try to find a position with a local lord. I can read and write, and I understand noble etiquette. It'd be perfect if I could become a servant to a noble. If not, I could at least do some accounting or clerical work. And if Kantadal's forces ever retreat from Rolandar, I'll figure out a way to return."
"And you, Leon?" Lohak asked.
Leon thought for a moment, feeling somewhat uncertain. Aside from just trying to survive, he didn't have any long-term plans.
Joining the army alongside Lohak was one path. After all, the original owner of his body had been trained in archery, and he was good with a bow. But becoming a soldier in such a chaotic world also carried great risks, and he could easily end up as cannon fodder on the battlefield.
Could he, like Azerian, seek a position with a local noble? Perhaps the local lord would need a hunter.
As for avenging his deceased family... the tragedy of the original "Leon" did indeed tug at his heartstrings, but he knew that wasn't his memory. If given the opportunity, he wouldn't mind avenging the original, but if it cost him his life, it wouldn't be worth it.
Anyway, once this difficult journey was over, the three of them would probably have to part ways.
Night quickly fell, and the occasional sound of insects, mixed with the eerie sway of the trees, filled the air. Aside from the crackling of the campfire, the only other sound was the eerie wind whistling through the forest.
Having slept through the first half of the night, Leon was soon woken for his turn to stand watch. He had grown accustomed to irregular sleeping patterns from his time in exile.
The deep silence of the forest at night was unnerving. The pale moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy, and beyond the reach of the firelight, everything was pitch black. Leon sat there, staring into the inky darkness, sometimes thinking about their future, but more often just daydreaming idly.
...
Huh?
What was that?
Fireflies?
Leon squinted and stared at the faint flickering lights in the distance. As he focused, he realized that it wasn't fireflies at all. What he was seeing were pairs of eyes glinting in the darkness, reflecting the light of their campfire!
"Everyone, wake up! There's danger!"
Leon shouted as he jumped to his feet, grabbing a makeshift spear to point toward the shadows where the movement was coming from.
Lohak and Azerian, both of whom had light sleep, immediately sprang into action, grabbing their weapons and standing alert on either side of Leon.
"What is it?" Lohak asked, holding his sword in one hand, and with the other, he quickly lit a torch from the campfire.
The torchlight revealed the shapes of creatures lurking in the shadows—twisted, grotesque faces let out shrill cries as they tried to shield themselves from the blinding light. Leon could now see exactly what these creatures were.
... Goblins?
For a moment, Leon's mind flashed back to the name. Those ugly, bald heads with sharp ears, their small, humanoid forms—they resembled the cannon fodder creatures commonly found in fantasy works back on Earth.
But something seemed off. These creatures weren't exactly like the goblins from his memories. Their skin was brown instead of green, and their faces resembled more animalistic features—wolf-like snouts with sharp teeth, twisted and snarling.
And unlike the mindless beasts he'd expected, these creatures were clearly not lacking in intelligence. Leon saw that they were armed with crude spears or rusted, broken swords. They clearly knew how to use tools and weapons.
"Forest gremlins? ... No, wait! These are wildlings!" Azerian immediately recognized them.
Wildlings? Leon had never seen such creatures before. Though he'd been living in the forest for a long time, this was his first encounter with such strange, non-human intelligent life.