18. The hermits’ hideout (1)

I feel... pretty terrible.

What the hell is going on right now?

I’m not moving. Lying down, in fact.

Does that mean Mal defeated me, in the end?

I couldn’t exactly recall much after the fight broke out in full swing.

I think I was doing pretty well, with the help of the healers. And I’m sure Malrik was also getting exhausted, along with me.

I tried moving, but instantly changed my mind when a jolt of pain spread through my whole body.

Ah, alright. So I’m wrecked right now. Makes sense… But why am I alive?

Nether’s eldest, I believed, wasn’t the type to let his opponent live - otherwise he wouldn’t have used so much lethal force.

This is real damn confusing.

*creak*

Just then, I heard the sound of wood straining under pressure. Must’ve been footsteps on a flimsy wooden floor.

Is he walking up to finish me off now? Hah, so that’s how I go out. Well, at least Nyra and Lyrael dipped successfully. One final good deed before dying is quite heroic, no?

“Heh. *cough*”

I let out a strained laugh, which came out as more of a hoarse cackle due to my incinerated throat and threw me into a fit of painful coughing.

But then, I heard a voice I absolutely didn’t expect.

“What are you doing, trying to make noises in your state? Lay still, dumbass.”

Wh-Nyra?

Why on earth is she here?! And after I risked my and Lyrael’s lives to get her out, on top of that.

In a fit frustration, I overcame the drowsiness for just long enough to weakly roll my eyelids up.

”??”

What met me was an annoyed face - one I expected to see of course; but also something entirely unanticipated:

Is that a wooden ceiling? Wait, so I’m not in the basement anymore? Oh, right. I might actually be an idiot. Why would the stone ground in a basement creak like wooden planks?

Hah, that means I survived! Fuck yeah.

I take everything I said about happily going out doing some heroic deed back. Living beats dying any day.

I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly realized that wouldn’t work.

Nyra seemed to have understood as much, and spoke first; but not before sliding a palm down her face.

”I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I’ll explain everything, so just don’t move and listen up. Got it?”

I nodded, ready to hear the details.

“Simply put, your hired assassin, or whoever the man was - Lyrael told me his name was Dren, I think - beat the everloving shit out of his opponent with the help of some sorcerer twink.”

I smiled and suppressed a laugh, knowing fine well that it would hurt a ton if I produced so much as a squeak with my voice.

Nyra must’ve been referring to Nagi when she said ‘sorcerer twink’. I’ll have to tell him later, bet he’ll get pissed off. That said, I haven’t actually seen him angry before. Sounds like an entertaining sight.

I nodded once again, signaling for her to continue. I also noted that my head was resting on a pillow. Someone must’ve dragged my crumpled body onto a bed.

“We ran into the two as we were running away. According to Lyrael, your plan was for Dren to simply stall for time against some super strong Stone Cauldron warrior, but he completely obliterated him in the end. So Dren went inside, guided by us, and took away his men - creepy fucks, by the way - along with your body. Oh, and you looked like an absolute corpse. I was sure you were dead, but he pulled out some miraculous healing art and patched you up to your current state; said he can’t do any more, as your body’s too wrecked even for him to fully restore.”

Everything made sense, except for one important detail.

Why was I even still alive when he came back? I’d have expected to get finished off by Malrik, given that I’d clearly lost the fight. Not that you’ll see me complaining.

Evidenced by my awful state.

My left eyebrow went up in question.

”What’s with that look? Curious about something else?”

I stared. Meaning ‘yes’.

”Hmm, let’s see… After that, he passed you over to Lyrael and I, and we dragged you into the closest inn we could find. Used your money to pay for it, of course.”

I shook my head.

That’s not what I wanted to know.

Nyra brought out a chair from a nearby desk, plopped down on it - legs crossed - and rested her chin on her palm in thought.

”What else? I’m pretty sure I told you everything.”

Finally getting fed up with this guessing game, I gestured Nyra to lean closer, which she did.

Then, I quietly and deliberately whispered, careful not to harm my vocal cords even further.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

”What.. about.. Nether.. guy?”

A figurative lightbulb flashed above her head.

She leaned back and spoke:

“Oh! I suppose you would be interested in how your fight went. Truth be told, you both lost… Kinda. Rather than losing, I should say you both exhausted yourselves. Neither you nor the fire prince had any essence left. Bone dry. You sort of just collapsed to the ground, and so did Malrik. The men healing you also had barely any energy left, according to them. And for the record, I don’t think they were lying. They were all barely standing from depleting their reserves. I think that covers everything, more or less.”

Huh. A draw. I’m happy with that outcome, to be honest. Would’ve been a shame if either of us lost and killed the other. I quite like the guy, he was fun to chat with.

After that, Nyra informed me that she would be leaving to get some shuteye, as she’d been watching my vitals while I was out.

Lyrael was also resting in a nearby room.

Deciding that it’d be a good idea to recover as well, I shut my eyes and swiftly dozed off.

Memories of the last fight haunted me in my dreams, but it wasn’t anything too bad.

After all, the recollection of physical pain is never as bad as the real thing.

***

Three months passed since the spectacular breakout. News of three prisoners escaping the Royal Detention and beating Stone Cauldron’s strongest warrior could not be contained, so their propaganda machine used the chance to advertise a newly formed army, supposedly much fiercer than before.

An advanced search party was also sent out to scour the entire continent in hopes of finding the criminals. That was largely for show, however. Their forces were not so abundant.

Naturally, any hint of the Black Lake healers’s involvement was swept under the rug, as Stone Cauldron could not afford to make enemies with such a powerful force.

Stone Cauldron’s situation seemed to be all people cared about in the central continent for the past month. A group of friends, who were out drinking, finally got tired of hearing people talk about the same stuff over and over, and decided to go out for a walk through the streets.

It was nighttime, with lamps illuminating every stall along the way.

They were already overly full from chugging beers though, so they simply strolled along in silence, hoping to run into something exciting. News of small events never spread far, so the best way of gathering intriguing information when you couldn’t afford to buy any was to perk your ears up and pay attention to what others were discussing.

At first, the endeavor was fruitless. The friend group was actually a party of adventurers, and powerful martial artists on top of that - in other words, almost none of the info they picked up was worth their time.

With a defeated look, a tall woman with a staff slung over her shoulder spoke up:

”This ain’t it. Let’s travel somewhere far, for a change. My ears are staring to rot from all the prison break talk, to be honest-“

However, she was interrupted by a bulky bearded man, who put his index finger up to his mouth. The sight was quite comical, as he was wearing unwieldy gauntlets, making fine movements a challenge.

”Shush. Listen up. I think I heard something intriguing just now.”

The woman raised an eyebrow with suspicion - after all, they’ve already concluded that there’s nothing worth hearing here - but didn’t argue. Instead, she concentrated essence on her ears, enhancing her sound perception manyfold.

She quickly filtered through the noise and focused in on two people, merchants judging by their attire, who were indeed discussing something rather interesting.

With glistening eyes, she quietly tailed them. Her three companions did the same.

The one on the left, kinda spherical in shape, was sharing some intel he bought for a great price, according to him:

“-so, you can believe me when I say it’s from a reliable source. Those guys almost never get their info wrong.”

”Alright, alright. I got it. Go on.”

The man smiled, content that his partner was willing to hear him out, and continued with his story.

“As I was saying, those two hermits are utter weirdos. They live in a cave that used to be completely infested with monsters. I can tell what you’re thinking from the look on your face - it’s that one cave designated a red zone.”

”Okay, now it’s obvious you’re bullshitting me. I’m not an idiot, mate. Even if I’m new to the field, I know that a red zone means it hasn’t been cleared of the monsters - deemed too dangerous to be worth it. And now you’re telling me some two freaks live there? Drop it if you’re planning to keep messing me with. I’m not interested.”

The apparently inexperienced merchant gave the chubby one a displeased look, to which his partner waved his finger in the air mockingly.

“Tsk, tsk. This is why newbies never make it big. Did you even pay attention to my words? I explicitly said “used to be infested with monsters”. Now, use your noggin, will you?”

”…But, what kind of clan or organization would have enough spare hands to throw at clearing a cave that barely holds any value?”

”Hoho, that’s where the interesting part comes in. It was actually the two hermits that cleared it, with the help of an external force. They cleared it to make it their homes. Weirdos, as I said. Ah, but before you go arguing again, let me explain how they did it. You see, the whole place was charred black - traces of molten stone were noticed by a scout team - as if set ablaze by an extremely high level flame.”

”So, you’re saying they burned the whole swarm alive? I can’t think of any clan in this country that has such powerful flame arts.”

”Now you’re cooking with oil! Good thinking, newbie. It was indeed not someone from here. This actually ties into the Royal Detention breakout, believe it or not. I’m sure you’re aware that Nether’s eldest son was recruited to interrogate the prisoner that was left behind after the first escape - well, he was defeated by that prisoner’s rescuers, but not killed.”

The inexperienced merchant planted a fist on his palm and exclaimed:

”Oh! I get it now. So, the two hermits somehow managed to hire Nether’s prince to clear the cave for them.”

”Correct. However, one important detail is that they killed the monsters together with him. As a result, one of the hermits got severely wounded. Apparently, Nether’s prince failed to control his flames and accidentally burnt one alive. He survived, but was left blind, and with terrible burn scars.”

”That seems too detailed to just be some observation. How can you be sure it’s true?”

”It’s simple, really. The hermits are actually quite talkative. They gladly shared the details with anyone who asked. But anyways, the blind one is a young man, just over twenty going off of his look, while the other is a beautiful girl, roughly the same age - she now acts as his caretaker.”

The merchant listening to the story scratched his balding head.

”That tracks, I guess, but something makes no sense to me about the whole thing. If they’re a young couple, and one is blind on top of that, then how on earth are they even able to survive in a dangerous forest? The cave wasn’t the only threat in that region, was it?”

”Is this how you listen to your senior? I told you already; they fought together with the fire prince. That, of course, means they’re both martial artists.”

”Mm.”

He nodded at the senior merchant’s words to signal he was ready to go along with the conversation.

“They never shared their exact power levels, but I can at least tell you more about their appearance. The boy always wears a blindfold, a a large bamboo hat, and covers his whole body with a baggy black cloak. He says it’s to hide the unsightly burns. As for the girl, it’s suspected that she might be of royal blood. She’s extremely tidy despite their habitat, and carries herself with nobility. Plus, she’s too pretty to be of mundane birth.”

”Didn’t you say she’s a martial artist, though? Could’ve gone through body rebirth.”

”That’s impossible. Once someone reaches that level, they can no longer contain all of their energy. What I’m saying is, the scout party did not detect the aura of an exalted one in her. Oh, and the last thing I was told is so bizarre that even I’m not sure it’s true. The informants said she always wears stockings. And I’m talking thin, fragile ones that rich ladies like to wear - not your average skintight combat suit.”

At that, both men kicked their heads back in laughter.

”Yeah, right. That must’ve been a joke your informants threw in. Can’t believe you fell of it.”

The chubby man awkwardly smiled.

”Haha, you might be right. But either way, it’s an interesting situation, isn’t it?”

The other merchant simply nodded.

***

The four adventures figured that the conversation of the merchants they were tailing was over, and walked out into a quiet alley.

The tall woman looked between her three companions with a grin.

”This sounds fun, no?”

The three men all said something in agreement.

And like that, it was decided - they would soon pay the eccentric hermits a visit.