Vice-Commander Carion
After parting ways with Korn, I headed straight for the house where Vice-Commander Carion was supposed to be.
But the wooden front door of the house was shut tight, without even the slightest crack.
I could faintly sense people inside, and hear low voices being exchanged, so Valdo and the others were definitely in there, but...
I pressed my face to the door and listened closely.
Hmm... I can tell they're talking, but I can't make out the words clearly.
With no other choice, I decided to circle around the house.
Without making a sound in the snow…
Though, with my excellent paw pads, walking on snow didn't make a single footstep anyway.
I narrowed my eyes and searched for some gap I could slip into.
Countless icicles hung from the edge of the roof, glinting dully in the sunlight.
If one of those falls, that'll be one cat skewer done and ready.
Thinking such ominous thoughts, I twitched my ears and carefully moved forward.
Then, when I reached the back of the house, I noticed one of the windows was open just a tiny bit.
And conveniently enough, an old hoe was leaning against the wall right beneath it.
I looked up at it and flicked my tail once.
… Alright. I can do this!
Backing up a little from the hoe, I took off across the snow.
Then, building momentum, I kicked hard with my hind legs and launched into the air.
The moment my paws reached the hoe's handle, I dug in my claws and sprinted up it in one go.
Using that rebound, I leaped onto the wooden windowsill.
“Meow...!”
Just as planned, my front paws caught the sill.
I hauled myself up, somehow keeping my balance.
My claws gave faint scraping sounds, and I nearly slipped a few times, but…
At last, I managed to get my whole body onto the windowsill.
“Nya~o.”
Still perched there, I peeked inside.
It seemed this was the kitchen area of the house. Luckily, there was no one in the room.
After confirming that, I hopped down into the house.
… The instant I did, a thick smell of blood and sweat hit my nose.
The source of the smell was drifting in from deeper inside the house.
And from that direction, I could also hear someone's low voice speaking.
Pricking up my ears, I quietly padded toward the sound.
As I moved closer, a faint light became visible farther in.
A wavering orange glow leaked through the crack of a wooden door.
When I reached it, I peered into the room through the gap.
It looked like a bedroom, and sitting upright on a bed by the window was a single man.
Blood had seeped through the bandages wrapped around his chest, and wounds could be seen on his arms and head.
And yet, even in such terrible condition, what stood out most was how straight he held his back, never once letting his dignified posture falter.
When the man shifted slightly, shoulder-length blond hair swayed softly, a few strands falling across his cheek.
Through the gaps, I could see eyes of clear ice blue.
Cold as ice, yet shining with keen intelligence.
His face was pale, nearly bloodless from his injuries.
Even so, the light in those eyes had not dimmed in the slightest.
So that's... Carion... vice-commander of the Black Iron Claws...
Seeing him, I let out a sigh of relief.
Thank goodness... He was clearly badly wounded, but he was alive.
And standing in front of Carion's bed was Valdo.
It seemed the other members had stepped out. In this room, only Valdo and Carion were present.
But… Something felt wrong.
Carion had survived and was here safe, yet Valdo didn't look happy about it at all.
Usually bold and fearless, he was standing there in rare silence, wearing a grim expression.
What hung between them wasn't relief at reuniting.
If anything, it was an unbearably heavy tension.
“... That pack of monsters this time was no ordinary one.”
Just as I was wondering, a low, hoarse voice spoke.
It was Carion's.
“It wasn't only their numbers. Their movements as well... they were like a disciplined army. The place where we encountered them wasn't far from our base. Sooner or later, they'll sniff out the chapel base as well. The moment we return, preparations should begin at once to abandon it.”
… I see. Just as expected of the vice-commander of the Black Iron Claws, Carion was sharp as hell.
Even after suffering life-threatening injuries like this, he was still calmly analyzing the situation. That wasn't something just anyone could do.
But at Carion's words, the sharpness in Valdo's gray eyes deepened.
“... That place is the home we finally managed to claim.”
A low, restrained voice rang out.
It was the first time I'd ever heard Valdo sound like he was in pain.
“Have you forgotten why the Black Iron Claws were formed? We were people who lost our hometowns to monster attacks, then got turned away by the cities. We gathered together and made the Black Iron Claws. And now you're telling them to throw away their home again?”
Valdo clenched his fist tight.
The faint morning light coming through the window illuminated his profile, putting a steel-like gleam into his gray eyes.
Across from him, Carion didn't so much as stir. He merely looked back at Valdo in silence.
That ice-blue gaze was cold and clear, as if it could see straight through a person's heart.
“Then are you saying they should cling to a place and throw away their lives?”
“And if we abandon it, then what? You think mercenaries like us are suddenly going to be welcomed into some city now?”
Without a trace of emotion on his face, Carion answered flatly.
“Depending on how it is handled, it is not so difficult. Few remain now who do not know the name of the Black Iron Claws. It should be possible to gain acceptance from some noble... or perhaps the Adventurers' Guild.”
“City nobles? The Adventurers' Guild? Carion... do you even hear yourself right now?”
Valdo's voice dropped another level.
“When they heard about this monster attack, they said, ‘We’ve got no obligation to go save a bunch of mercenaries,’ and abandoned you all. And now you're telling us to bow and scrape to people who don't even think we're human?”
“Yes. I am.”
Carion gave a short nod, still calm.
“Face reality, Valdo. Even if we protect that place, we gain nothing from it. We are mercenaries. What meaning is there in fighting battles that earn no money?”
“... That's exactly the kind of thing you'd say.”
Valdo spat the words out.
His gray eyes narrowed, trying to suppress his anger.
“But I can't agree with that. Even if we flatter the city folk and somehow get accepted by a lord or the Adventurers' Guild, that kind of reward would only go to the tiny handful who made names for themselves on the battlefield. What happens to the rank and file? At worst, they'll get used up and tossed aside.”
“Even so, it is better than being killed by monsters.”
“Hah.”
Valdo snorted.
Carion let out a small breath and quietly shrugged.
“We are going in circles... For now, let us discuss this again after we return to base.”
He spoke calmly, then fixed Valdo with those ice-blue eyes.
That stare was sharpened and cold, like a blade of ice.
“The final decision belongs to you as commander, Valdo. But, remember this well. Depending on your choice, every member of the Black Iron Claws may die.”
“... I know that without you telling me.”
Then heavy silence took hold of the room.
The two men had finally reunited at last… and yet that silence felt like a distance greater than anything else.
What do you think about this chapter?
