Chapter 40: Rotten Corpse

The villagers didn’t understand why Wade was preventing them from advancing when their destination was right ahead. 

Lucas was the first to sense something amiss. He had gotten off the ox cart when they started ascending the mountain path. His injuries had improved enough for him to walk normally now. He approached Wade and asked, “Sir Wade, is there a problem?”

Wade pointed toward the rooftops. Lucas squinted, standing on tiptoe to get a better look. After a moment, his expression turned grave.

Avery asked nervously, “Uncle Lucas, what’s ahead?”

“Ravens,” Lucas replied.

“Ravens?” Avery was puzzled – what was so special about ravens?

Lucas explained their concern: “There’s a large flock of ravens on those houses. You only see wild ravens gathering like this in places like battlefields or graveyards. They’re attracted by the smell of decay.”

Lucas had sharp instincts for danger – a necessary skill that had kept him intact through seventeen years as an adventurer.

“Look around elsewhere – do you see any signs of people?” he asked.

Several agile young men climbed a nearby oak tree to scout. When they descended, they all shook their heads, reporting no signs of human activity.

“But… it’s winter,” a woman protested. “Who would be out wandering in this cold? They must be indoors, gathered around warm fires.”

She clung to the hope that knocking on a wooden door would bring friendly villagers offering bread and goat’s milk.

“If there were people in the village, there wouldn’t be so many ravens gathered,” Lucas said grimly.

“Lucas, you decide what we should do,” said Avery’s father, Uncle Balder. “You’re the most experienced among us. We’ll follow your lead.”

Lucas nodded and climbed onto the nearest ox cart. He scanned Bronte village, trying to gather useful information. 

As a professional warrior, even just Iron-rank, his vision was far better than ordinary people’s. Where the ravens gathered, he could see partial corpses buried in snow, with ravens landing around them to peck at rotting flesh.

Something terrible had happened in Bronte village. Had the Vikings invaded here too? 

Impossible, Lucas frowned. It was deep winter – the seas were frozen. Viking war bands couldn’t sail their longships across the ocean now. At most, like the Viking pirates who attacked their village, they might use sleds to transport a few dozen men across snowfields and frozen rivers to raid remote areas. But how could they reach Bronte village, so far inland?

Lucas sensed something eerie and dangerous.

“Uncle Balder, have the young men drive the ox carts and goats down the slope behind us!” Lucas lowered his voice. “Everyone retreat down the slope and stay hidden!”

“Understood.” Balder waved his arm. “Everyone, follow me!”

The group of over a hundred people retreated anxiously to the shelter of the downward slope.

Lucas picked up his beloved spear. His injuries weren’t fully healed – the arrow wound on his back had scabbed over, but his broken ribs would take two or three months to mend, not to mention his internal injuries.

His breathing still felt obstructed, though unlike previous days when every inhale and exhale brought up a metallic taste in his throat. As long as he avoided violent impacts and didn’t use combat techniques, he should be able to move without major issues.

“Sir Wade, would you accompany me to investigate Bronte village?” Lucas asked. “If we encounter additional complications, we’ll increase your payment accordingly.”

Wade nodded, drawing the iron sword at his waist and standing beside Lucas.

Lucas exhaled in relief. Having a reliable companion during missions was reassuring. 

He had learned of Wade’s background – a wandering knight who had traveled from Nidran to Tania. Such a man must be capable. In this dangerous world, the ability to travel alone demonstrated both courage and skill.

“I’ll go with you too,” offered Uncle Balder.

Lucas shook his head. “Uncle Balder, you need to stay here. Otherwise there’ll be no one to maintain order.”

“Then take some brave young men as backup,” Balder suggested.

Lucas shook his head again. “Young men’s bravery isn’t always true bravery.”

It might just be recklessness and ignorance.

He didn’t say the last part aloud, but Balder understood. Taking inexperienced youths into what might be a battlefield would likely result in them being more hindrance than help.

“I understand,” Balder nodded. “Go ahead. We’ll wait here for your return.”

Lucas added, “Keep everyone quiet, especially the livestock. Don’t let them cause a commotion.”

“If we’re not back by nightfall, continue retreating further down the mountain path.”

“Understood.” Balder clapped Lucas on the shoulder.

After exchanging glances, Lucas turned and walked with Wade toward the stone village at the mountain’s base.

“Let me lead, Sir Wade,” Lucas whispered. “We’ll take side paths to infiltrate.”

Wade nodded, following behind Lucas.

In an unobserved spot, a wisp of white mist drifted from the gaps in Wade’s black iron helmet. 

The frost-white Mia materialized behind Wade and flew upward. 

The little ghost moved much faster than Wade and Lucas. By the time the two men circled around to enter the village from the side, Mia had already reached a position above Bronte village.

Though Wade and Mia didn’t share vision, preventing him from clearly seeing what she observed, he could sense through their connection whether something was present in the village.

Something Wade couldn’t detect was moving in the village’s corners.

Gripping his sword, Wade had Mia watch the path ahead of him and Lucas – the blind spots obscured by bushes and stone houses.

The two men crouched low, safely navigating through shrubs and snow until they reached the front entrance of a stone house.

An overpowering stench of decay assaulted their noses. Lucas’s stomach churned as he fought down nausea.

He stopped, half-kneeling to dig through the shallow snow.

A frozen male corpse was revealed, most of its limbs bearing marks as if something had chewed on them, leaving uneven pits.

“Wild animals?” Lucas frowned.

They advanced further, entering a narrow alley between small stone walls.

Before exiting the alley, Wade extended an arm to stop Lucas.

Mia had seen something ahead.

Hearing faint chewing sounds, Wade pressed against the wall and moved forward silently.

Lucas mimicked him as they quietly peeked out.

Lucas’s pupils contracted abruptly. Before them was a rotting stray dog, its intestines dragging on the ground, pale ribs protruding from putrid flesh – yet it was still moving, lowering its head to gnaw on a dead raven beneath it.