Moreover, Baglos is overwhelmingly powerful.
If he were to go all out, perhaps only Lord Lowell or Lord Medluf would be able to subdue him alone—no one else on this earth could.
However, unlike Lord Lowell or Lord Medluf, he is, emotionally, not much different from a child.
Who could guarantee that all the countless emotions he is bound to feel from now on will only have a positive influence on him?
Who could confidently claim, as the other companions hope, that he will become a righteous and upright person?
That’s why I secretly wished he would never change.
That he would always follow Lowell’s will and remain someone who could be controlled.
Maybe, throughout the journey, every time he showed unnatural behavior, I felt some inner relief.
I can’t say for sure whether that was pure concern… or petty jealousy.
But now, he is gradually finding his own will.
And right now, he is trying to disobey what he likely values most—Lowell’s orders—for me, under the name of friendship.
No one knows how he will change in the future.
I don’t know whether my concerns will come true or just prove to be my own foolishness.
But right now, even if it’s just the fleeting purity of a child, at the very least, he’s shining brightly enough to expose my foolishness and shortcomings.
“Then can I go now?”
“…Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
I climbed back onto Eril’s back, and Baglos once again started running, cloaked in the shroud of night.
“No, Eril. I’m not sad. It’s just…”
Eril could read my heart, but she couldn’t quite grasp what I was feeling.
Well, I didn’t really understand it myself—how could she?
“It’s just that… it’s not purely joy.”
Eril tilted her head as if still not understanding, then spread her wings and took to the sky.
Now, there was nothing left to do but fly toward our destination.
Just as the gray melancholy was beginning to settle, something else raised its head.
“Wait. Did he say the nearest city?”
Suddenly, I snapped to attention as a real sense of dread crept in.
Around the Forest, there was no city, no nation that had claimed this area as its territory.
And yet he said a nearby city?
“…I knew it.”
It didn’t take long for that fear to become reality.
It simply lingered without leaving.
The sun had already set, and the moon and stars painted the sky, but Baglos was still running.
Of course, thanks to the darkness blanketing the land and the black mist he wore around him, I’d long since lost sight of him.
Only Eril was keeping track of him with her phoenix senses.
We were still quite far from the nearest city Baglos had mentioned, though.
“Eril, close the distance a bit.”
Baglos’s mana was about to run out.
Even if he didn’t feel tired, his body was surely getting exhausted.
If I left him alone, he would definitely keep running even if the veil of night vanished, so I had to tell him we should take a break.
“Baglos! Let’s rest for a bit!”
There was no other choice but to raise my voice.
Thankfully, with nighttime silencing the surroundings, my voice carried clearly.
I still couldn’t see him, but Eril slowing down told me he had stopped.
Eril descended gradually and finally landed.
I moved my hand to summon a globe of light in front of me.
It wouldn’t matter to Baglos or Eril, but it was necessary for me.
“You really think this is a good place to stop?”
Before I knew it, Baglos was standing right next to us.
He looked up at me atop Eril’s back—his eyes completely black.
That was his night vision form, allowing him to see in darkness.
I had seen it countless times during our previous travels, but it had been so long that it still sent a chill down my spine.
“Yeah. We’ve still got a long way to go, so you should rest.”
“Okay.”
He plopped down onto the ground.
Normally, this area had a high monster appearance rate, and most adventurers or travelers would scout the surroundings or set up a fire to prepare for sleep.
But such things didn’t concern Baglos.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept the same way near the monster-infested Mereka Mountains.
After getting off Eril’s back, I took out the emergency rations I had packed that morning.
I had been hungry for quite a while, but it felt wrong to eat alone while Eril and Baglos were with me.
Also, I’d had a bad experience eating while flying during a previous trip, so I’d been holding back.
“Here, Baglos. You should eat too.”
Thankfully, there were two portions left since I’d skipped two meals.
“Okay.”
Baglos accepted the rations.
He seemed indifferent, but there was a faint trace of delight in his touch.
“It’s been a while since we had these, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Truthfully, Baglos didn’t need food.
Due to his synthesis with other creatures and demon crystals, he could gain nutrients in other ways.
But regardless, he still enjoyed eating.
He didn’t show it openly, but the way he always tried new dishes whenever we reached a new region had made it clear to all of us.
Especially if it was one of Aegina’s special dishes—he always accepted it eagerly.
It was impossible to overstate how helpful he had been at our meal tables, to both Lowell and the rest of us.
“Eril, sorry, but I’ll rely on you for tonight.”
I had to give Eril some free time for food too, but unlike yesterday, I had to make sure she knew it wouldn’t be long.
With Baglos around, heading to Denatel’s library was impossible.
Even if he wouldn’t tell the others about it, the best policy was to avoid unnecessary risks.
When it comes to secrets, the fewer who know, the better.
If I couldn’t sleep at Denatel’s library, I’d have to sleep in Eril’s embrace.
All my camping gear, like the sleeping bag, had been left in the bag back at the library.
Eril nodded in understanding and soared into the sky.
I didn’t know what she would catch for dinner, but I offered a silent prayer for it anyway.
“Well then…”
Turning my head, I saw Baglos had finished his portion and was staring at me.
There wasn’t any particular emotion in his gaze.
Most likely, he had no deeper reason and was just looking my way—but I couldn’t help feeling pressured by it.
“Here, Baglos.”
I handed him about a third of my portion, and of course, he didn’t refuse.
And so, we quietly continued eating together.
Even if we hadn’t been focused on the meal, there wouldn’t have been much conversation anyway.
After the short meal came a familiar silence—the same silence we always fell into when left alone during our previous travels.
There was still quite some time until Eril returned, but there was nothing special to do or say.
Back then, we would have stayed alert or layered protective barriers, just passing time.
But this time, there was no reason to stay on guard or erect wards.
Normally, I would have just remained silent, but the changed Baglos piqued my curiosity.
Maybe now, he’d answer a few of the questions I’d always wondered about.
“Come to think of it, we haven’t been alone like this very often, have we?”
“No.”
“Was the last time on Orsia Hill?”
“Yeah.”
I realized something was off.
Sure, he was answering, which was already a big change.
He used to stay silent no matter what you asked.
But at this rate, all I’d hear would be endless “yeah”s.
“So after we parted ways and you went into the Mereka Mountains… what did you do, usually?”
“I hunted. And looked at the crystal Medluf gave me.”
As expected, changing the question format also changed his answer.
It was still short, but it wasn’t just “yeah,” so that was good enough.
“Why the Mereka Mountains, though?”
“Because no one comes.”
“Did you want to be alone?”
“No. Yes.”
It was an interesting answer—a contradiction between opposing responses.
Considering that he was still awkward with expressing emotions, that kind of answer was actually the kind that would lead me to what I wanted to hear.
“Do you think you have to be alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What people want from me is always the same. But there’s nothing I want from them. So I stay alone.”
“Then is there anyone you want to be with?”
A question so obvious it didn’t even need asking.
If such a person existed, who could it be for him?
“My comrades. Lowell, Aegina, you, Medluf, Orcan, Lauti.”
“Then why did you reject us back then?”
When he first said he was leaving for the Mereke Mountains, we tried to stop him and asked him several times to reconsider.
Lowell and Medluf even offered to go with him.
But despite all those offers, it was Baglos himself who shook his head.
Of course, we all knew why.
None of us were unaware.
We just wanted to hear it from him directly.
I was curious how he would express such emotions.
“I didn’t want to be a burden anymore.”
“None of us think of you as a burden, Baglos. I came all this way asking for your help—that should be proof enough.”
He couldn’t answer.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know—he just didn’t know how to put it into words.
“Did it feel like us not thinking that way actually made you feel more like a burden?”
“Yeah.”
It seemed that even back then, he had already been seeking his own free will far more than I had realized.
Though he was still clumsy at it, he seemed to understand his own emotions to quite a deep degree.
That was, of course, a good sign.
But at the same time, it made me uneasy—what if this incident ended up affecting him in a negative way?
This job, in itself, wasn’t particularly special compared to what he had done before.
If anything, it might be easier.
But the problem was, he hadn’t left the Mereka Mountains in several years.
And in all that time, the only person he had probably interacted with was Lord Medluf.
Would suddenly returning to a city—and for something like this—really be good for him?
That was something I had to consider.
I knew how much sudden changes in surroundings could affect someone.
Even if it was once part of a familiar routine.
Like the stories we heard endlessly at the Academy—about apprentice knights returning from their first real battle and being unable to even handle simple sword drills.
I saw similar cases during our last journey too.
Thanks to Lowell and the others, those people were eventually able to overcome their psychological trauma.
Of course, I didn’t think Baglos would be shocked into anything that severe.
But now that he was slowly becoming more familiar with his emotions and how to express them, even the smallest things could influence him in unpredictable ways.
That’s why I had to be cautious.
And unlike our last trip, this time there were no comrades like Lowell to stabilize things or have a positive influence.
It was just me—and that, too, was a major issue.
“So when will you come back?”
“When I become like you guys.”
There was something strangely resonant about that.
It was a pure, emotionless response, yet it stirred something deep in my chest.
“…Right. Then you’ll be back soon.”
That alone was enough for me to be sure—he wouldn’t lose his way.
Even if he wasn’t standing directly in the light, he was looking toward it and walking in its direction.
Just like me.
And unlike me, he probably wouldn’t ever turn his eyes away from it, even for a moment.
I thought of ending the conversation there.
Eril hadn’t returned yet, but there was nothing more I needed to ask him.
But then, unexpectedly, Baglos spoke up.
“Hey, Anak. There’s something I’m curious about—can I ask you?”
The question was polite and natural—but the intonation wasn’t his.
It was clearly one of the many examples from that memory crystal he had memorized, down to the very intonation.
“Of course, Baglos. Ask me anything.”
“You didn’t bring anything with you?”
Returning to his natural tone, his question was quite sharp.
He was puzzled by the fact that I hadn’t brought a sleeping bag or any supplies.
“You were always so well-prepared.”
I can’t even describe how hard I had to work to keep my face from showing any surprise.
“I came on Eril. Besides, I only meant to ask for your help and then head back.”
Good.
That’s a sufficient answer.
“But earlier, you told Eril you’d be imposing for the night. That means you didn’t say that yesterday, right?”
I often forget—just because he’s unfamiliar with emotions and how to express them doesn’t mean he’s naive or gullible.
“No, that wasn’t about sleeping arrangements. As you saw, I’m out of food. I just asked her to scout around and look for food while hunting, to see if there’s anything we could eat nearby for tomorrow morning.”
Even I thought it was a brilliant ad-lib.
I spoke without the slightest hesitation, and unlike past days with Ropena, I even remembered to keep my facial expression in check.
And since he wasn’t a summoner, there was no way he could know exactly what Eril and I had said to each other—so it was perfect.
“Ah. I see.”
He soon dropped the question and didn’t ask further.
Yes.
That’s normal.
I can lie when needed.
So I don’t understand—how on earth do Ropena and Julian always see right through me?