The journey through the forest proceeded smoothly without any difficulties.
Though the fruits he found were hardly tasty, they were enough to fill their stomachs, and there were no attacks from wild beasts as they had feared.
[…Something feels off.]
At Frey’s muttered words, Zion nodded cautiously.
They might have been lucky not to encounter any wild beasts so far.
But the fact that not a single small herbivore or even birds had been seen was unusual.
[I hope I’m wrong, but Zion, this isn’t good. We need to pick up the pace.]
Their unease soon turned into reality.
As Zion approached close enough to visually confirm the Border Fortress, all he found were traces that a fortress had stood there until recently.
The sturdy fortress, normally home to about 500 soldiers and able to house double that number in emergencies, had been ruthlessly destroyed.
[Zion! Don’t move rashly! The enemy might still be nearby…]
Zion, lost in disbelief as he stared at the scene, suddenly bolted forward.
Frey’s shout couldn’t stop him.
[No, don’t.]
Like someone in a trance, Zion began searching through the ruins.
Frey didn’t dare speak and could only watch silently.
The Pendant’s video communication provided a bird’s-eye view around the target area, so Frey already knew that not a single soldier had survived.
[Was anyone you knew stationed here?]
“…No, there wasn’t.”
After a brief search, Zion stopped in the center of the fortress with a dry voice.
Frey felt drained at the unexpected answer.
But in a way, it was impressive.
Zion was truly grieving—over soldiers he had never even seen, and for reasons he didn’t even know.
[Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s not your fault.]
“If it’s not my fault, does that mean the soldiers’ deaths didn’t happen?”
Zion’s voice trembled uncontrollably.
Frey narrowed his eyes and swallowed.
It reminded him of when he first met Zion a few days ago.
Back then, Zion felt responsible for the many deaths caused because of him and lashed out at the world.
Though Frey had managed to calm him down, that spark never fully died.
Maybe with time, it would have naturally faded away.
But the ruined fortress and the reality of the soldiers’ massacre reignited that fire.
[No matter what I say, it’s likely to backfire. But I can’t let a young man make a reckless choice because of wrong judgment.]
Frey decided to give the harsh truth.
[[It was the work of monsters.]
“Monsters…?” Zion, clutching his chest in pain, suddenly raised his head.
[Didn’t you feel something strange? No survivors, yes—but there isn’t a single corpse either. If a war had broken out, there’d be enemy footprints or signs left behind. But there’s nothing—not even bloodstains.]
In hindsight, Frey was right.
He had been so focused on checking the soldiers’ fate that he’d missed several clues, only now coming to mind one by one.
[Some monsters don’t eat humans, but most just devour them whole. There are a few with special abilities who kill without leaving any trace like this.]
Several monster names came to Frey’s mind immediately.
He hadn’t mentioned them yet because Zion might act recklessly.
[It’s not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s the monsters. Don’t blame yourself. The ones you should blame are elsewhere.]
“Monsters… destroyed the fortress…”
He answered resentment with resentment.
Negative emotions eat away at the mind, but sometimes they serve as a very clear signpost.
“Will the monster that destroyed the fortress and killed the soldiers come back here?”
[There’s no certainty. But it’s likely they have a nest nearby.]
“Then…”
[Don’t lose sight of your goal, Zion. Hating monsters is a natural human feeling. But your goal is to run away from Mione and live freely, right?]
Frey’s words steadied Zion’s heart.
Zion gritted his teeth and nodded.
He then closed his eyes tightly and took several deep breaths.
‘He’s already regaining his composure. Stronger mental fortitude than I thought.’
Watching him, Frey silently admired Zion without showing it.
Of course, Frey’s words helped, but if Zion’s will hadn’t been strong from the start, he wouldn’t have calmed down so quickly.
“Understood. My priority is to cross the border and put distance between Illium and myself. But before that… can we stay here a moment?”
[As long as it’s not for long, you don’t need permission for something like that. But what are you planning here?]
“It’s nothing much… just…”
Instead of answering, Zion acted.
He once again gathered stones of a suitable size and stacked them one by one in the fortress’s central courtyard.
When the stones ran out and the stone tower reached Zion’s waist height, he collected intact weapons scattered around and deeply stuck them into the ground around the stone pile, encircling it.
[…]
Frey swallowed hard upon seeing the completed work.
“I will never forget you.”
It was a stone grave.
“To all of you who died fighting monsters to protect the country and your families, I will never forget you. And someday, I promise I will accomplish what you couldn’t with my own hands.”
After his brief eulogy, Zion stood and began walking away from the grave.
He headed past the fortress, moving further away from Illium.
Watching him, Frey felt a solemnity that was hard to describe and closed his eyes quietly.
Zion had been given the signpost of resentment but hadn’t been consumed by it.
He transformed even that dark emotion into mourning for the dead.
Frey finally admitted one thing: he had underestimated Zion.
‘Though the path may be different, this guy carries the blood of a hero, just like Naya.’
***
Even after crossing the border, their pace remained slow.
The deep forest made that unavoidable, and Frey was actively interfering with Zion’s movements.
[If you go that way, you’ll run into monsters. Let’s detour.]
The forest beyond the border had essentially become a monster stronghold.
It was likely due to the powerful monster that had destroyed the fortress.
In Frey’s view, Zion was not yet in a condition to fight properly.
Though the Wasting Sickness had been practically cured, its aftereffects still lingered.
He needed more time for a full recovery.
More importantly, Frey wasn’t yet confident in Zion’s skill.
At least until the Pendant recharged with enough MP to summon Frey again, Frey planned to avoid combat.
If he was nearby, he could protect Zion—his only blood relative—even in dangerous situations.
Zion respected his wishes.
But situations rarely unfolded as planned.
Frey could sense almost all monsters, but through the Pendant’s limited view, there were inevitable blind spots.
Moreover, the sheer number of monsters was high.
No matter how much they evaded and slipped through, sooner or later, they would be cornered.
Frey knew this from experience, so he was not surprised when the moment he had vaguely anticipated arrived.
“- Gyaaah…!”
“- Kerururuk…!”
From not far away came strange cries.
Too sharp and soaked with malice to be from wild animals.
Zion stopped walking, gripping the hilt of his sword, alert.
It was a sturdy, fine blade—likely the commander’s sword they’d found in the fortress.
[It’s coming, Zion.]
“Monsters?”
[Yes. Stay sharp. These aren’t monsters you can’t defeat. But if you lose focus even for a moment… you’ll die.]
The cries rushed through the bushes at a high speed.
Zion clenched the sword’s hilt tighter.
Veins bulged on his seemingly slender forearms.
[Now!]
A short, green mass burst through the bushes, bouncing forward.
At the same time, Zion moved.
The swinging blade struck something solid with sparks flying.
The attacker twisted midair, landing nimbly on the ground.
At first glance, it resembled a human.
But a closer look revealed it was a completely different, deformed being.
Its small, frail body was oddly muscled for a child’s frame.
The disgusting green-skinned monster gripped a stone club in one hand, supporting itself on the ground with its two legs and remaining arm.
Its gleaming eyes locked onto Zion with deadly intent.
Like it had found a tasty meal, it licked its lips, spitting acidic saliva that sizzled on the ground.
‘Goblin!’
Frey knew much about monsters.
He had studied on his own—no one forced him.
It was his duty as the Margrave of the Frontier.
But this was the first time he had seen one in person.
The creature’s presence provoked instinctive disgust and fear, freezing his entire body stiff.
[That thing underestimates you! Strike now, you can win!]
Frey’s voice sounded distant.
Zion gritted his teeth, desperately steadying his ragged breath.
Suddenly, the ruined fortress flashed in his mind.
The soldiers and retainers killed by assassins just days before.
And the even older memories—being isolated, scorned, and ridiculed within his own family.
“Aaahhh!”
Roaring like a scream, Zion charged fiercely.
The startled goblin hesitated, retreating.
Zion ruthlessly kicked the creature’s jaw.
The monster flew weakly into the air.
With a grim expression, Zion swung his sword.
The blade sank halfway through thick muscle.
“Kkeeek!”
The goblin screamed in revulsion, wildly swinging its club.
The blind strikes hit Zion’s shoulder, sending waves of pain that shook his vision.
Ignoring the pain, Zion gritted his teeth and pushed the creature down.
He climbed on top, punching its face.
The goblin, struck in the temple, stuck out its tongue and dropped the club.
Gasping heavily, Zion stood.
Gripping the sword’s hilt lodged in the goblin’s neck, he thrust his weight down.
Gray blood spurted like a fountain.
The monster’s head lolled limply.
“Huff! Hoo…”
Zion barely caught his breath before leaping back in alarm.
A spear thrown by another goblin, hidden and waiting for the moment Zion relaxed, whistled dangerously close to his ear.
[It’s not over yet!]
“I know!”
Goblins always travel in packs.
That fact was clearly stated in the tactical manuals Zion had studied.
Besides, the earlier cries had definitely come from multiple monsters.
‘Three? Four? Maybe more!’
Ominous presences stirred all around.
Ducking to avoid another thrown spear, Zion was met by a goblin leaping out of the bushes with a crude stone axe.
Zion hastily raised his sword to block and was pushed back.
At that moment, a strange sight caught his eye.
The goblin he’d just killed rapidly withered like it was being weathered.
From its chest, a pale blue mist-like energy seeped out and flew toward Zion, who absorbed it.
‘My body feels lighter.’
Frey’s words from earlier came to mind.
Awakened ones absorb MP from monsters they kill, growing stronger.
Their narrowed vision clears.
Trembling limbs fill with power.
What you hear and what you experience firsthand are entirely different.
Clenching the hilt, Zion calmly affirmed to himself: he could win.
[The MP absorption rate… good grief. Is my vision playing tricks on me?]
Frey’s bewildered mutterings went in one ear and out the other.
The odds had shifted, but danger remained.
There was no time to waste on unnecessary mistakes.
‘Use the terrain to detour. Take out the ones with ranged weapons first.’
Zion stomped the ground.
He seemed to rush forward but sharply changed direction, darting into the right-side bushes.
His movements were much smoother than before.
He spotted a goblin hiding there and slashed its throat as he passed by.
Unlike before, the blade cut through thick muscles like butter.
‘Can’t stop. While they’re confused, give it everything and seize control of the flow.’
His judgment and movements were decisive, as if he had fought monsters for years.
Frey felt the fragments of Zion’s hard-earned effort over the years.
Zion must have imagined fighting those monsters thousands, tens of thousands of times in his head as he studied alone.
His swordsmanship had matured beyond theory, becoming reality.
‘Brilliant.’
Frey unconsciously narrowed his eyes.
Once again, he admitted he had underestimated Zion.
In truth, Frey was prepared to be summoned anytime.
Though the MP charge was still insufficient, he could perform a brief emergency summon.
But now, that was no longer necessary.
Zion’s skill was real.
His relentless efforts, endured through pain in the mansion, were not in vain.
The talent once trapped and agonized by Wasting Sickness and family scorn had finally shed its shell and spread its wings.