Vol. 2 Ch. 15: That brat?

Author’s Note:

Edited and proofread by SnazzyCub.

Recurring Characters:

Peter: The Protagonist of this novel.

Mariah: Peter's mom.

Recap:

“Yeah,” Peter said, adding another branch into the flames. His gaze remained fixed on the flames. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” Mariah chuckled, “I’m afraid I might get nightmares if I sleep right now. I hate insects…absolute worst things to exist.”

…End Of Author's Note...

Recap in Author’s Note:

“Yeah,” Peter said, adding another branch into the flames. His gaze remained fixed on the flames. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” Mariah chuckled, “I’m afraid I might get nightmares if I sleep right now. I hate insects…absolute worst things to exist.”

…

A peaceful silence stretched between them. Mariah had her head tipped up, looking at the sky with a serene expression.

“Still thinking about what I said?” she softly asked.

Peter kept looking at the flickering flames as he sluggishly nodded, “…Yeah.”

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have overreacted,” she said, “It’s not a big deal. Many warriors feel it, including my father.”

“Really?” Peter shifted in his posture, looking at her hopefully.

“Yeah, he was a dungeon diver once upon a time,” her smile turned bittersweet. “Mum always used to say that he was a savage brute until he met her.”

Her gaze drifted to the nearby carcass before she continued, “The wilds aren’t for the faint of heart…and the dungeons are the same. If you’re not ready to kill every hour you breathe—” she paused, voice tightening, “—then forget about chasing advancement. You won’t live long enough to dream.”

Peter nodded, “Dad used to say something similar.”

“Did he now?” Mariah chuckled, sharing a look with him. “Did I marry a retired adventurer, just like mum?”

“Oh, you’re one as well,” Peter said, feeling a connection build between them. “I guess, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

They continued to talk until the first rays of sunlight hit their eyes, talking about Rosefall’s various customs, and about her brother, who she loved to bully. Peter couldn’t help but feel better, watching his mother recount childhood memories to him in such vivid detail, with a sweet smile on her face.

Mariah, too, found herself learning to trust in him after fighting together against the centipedes.

Over the next few days, they made steady progress toward their destination, as they didn’t have to deal with any further monster attacks.

…

“—and I told him. Go talk to her!” Mariah said, following behind Peter. She led the horses. “And guess what?” She said.

“What?” Peter said, turning his face sideways.

“The fool wouldn’t dare,” she said, shaking her head. “If only he did…I don’t think she would have turned him down. Lidia’s no—”

Peter blocked her path by raising his hand, eyes narrowed as he looked at the fountain. “Shhh…” he placed a finger on his lips.

“Someone else is here.” he said, pointing his spear at the fountain.

“Come out!” he bellowed, “No point hiding now.” His eyes remained keenly focused on the hollowness hidden behind the fountain. The water offered no resistance to his mana sense..

His instructions seemed to fall on deaf ears. The hidden figure acted clueless.

Peter frowned, deliberating whether they should act now or return later. The barrels were empty again, and it would take too long to find another source of water.

He leaned down, picked up a pebble, and threw it at the fountain. It flew in an arc, breaching the water to fall pretty close to the figure hiding behind.

“Next time…it’ll be my spear!” Peter said, his tone carrying untold implications. “My aim’s pretty good.”

“Okay, Fine!” A boyish voice yelled. “I’m coming out. Just…don’t hurt me.”

“Should’ve answered earlier, but alright.” Peter said, remaining cautious.

A young teen slowly revealed himself, walking around the fountain. His arms remained raised above his head as he stared at them. He was skinny—like he hadn’t eaten anything for more than a week. His clothes were wet and torn in various places. His green eyes constantly darted fearfully between Peter and Mariah.

Peter didn’t spare a moment and used Inspect on him. He knew very well that appearances could be deceiving. Advancement provided opportunities to reverse one’s physical age and increase lifespan. Not to mention of untold number of ways to appear like a young human.

Inspect…

[

Name: Tarin

Race: Human

Class: Wanderer lv. 8, Villager lv. 1

Level: 9

Age: 13

Title: None

.

.

.

]

“What’s your name?” Peter asked, slamming the butt of his spear on the ground, relaxing his posture.

“Tarin,” he said. “Can I come out? The water’s quite cold,” he shivered, teeth clattering.

“As long as you remain at a distance and within eyeshot,” Peter nodded.

The boy didn’t need to be told twice. He carefully climbed away from the fountain and walked closer before stopping a few meters from them.

“Where are the rest of your people?” he said, hugging himself.

Mariah hesitated a bit, her gaze drifting to Peter’s back before she bit her lip and threw her shawl at the shivering boy.

Tarin grabbed it from the air and didn’t forget to nod at her gratefully before drying himself with the cloth.

“I’ll ask the questions here.” Peter said, ignoring his question.

Tarin raised his head, sparing him a glance before turning to Mariah with a doubtful look. Why is the kid acting like the leader despite her presence?

Mariah couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Will you stop it? He’s just a kid.” she said, knowing very well that Peter wouldn’t allow him to close the distance if he wasn’t.

“What are you doing here, Tarin?” she asked, looking at him with pity. “…especially in this condition.” No human settlements were nearby, so it was odd to find a boy alone here unless something awful had happened to him.

Before Tarin could answer anything, his stomach grumbled. “…Can I get something to eat first?” he asked, rubbing his belly. His face twisted in torment born out of starvation.

Mariah sighed, “Of course. Let us water the horses at least, then we can return to camp and get you something to eat.” Her voice softened further, looking at the relief on his face, “I promise…it shouldn’t take long.”

…

Mariah handed Tarin a spoonful of rice porridge, mixed with boiled vegetables in a wooden bowl. “Slowly,” she said, crouching beside the boy. “Just a bit for now. Your body needs time.”

The boy stared at the bowl, disappointment painted on his face. His eyes flickered with shame for a moment, but he took the bowl with trembling hands.

Mariah placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get more. But we don’t want you to fall sick after waiting this long.”

He nodded, doubting the logic behind the process, but happy to hear about the prospect of more food.

Mariah and Peter waited for the starving boy to finish his meal in peace before starting the interrogation.

“What are you doing here, all alone?” Mariah asked, a concerned look on her face as she received the empty bowl from Tarin.

He looked at the ground, lips shut tight, eyes grim. It took him a few moments to compose himself before his lips finally parted to speak.

“…We-we were attacked. The bandits…those bastards! They attacked us. Mom told me to flee…” His head jerked up to stare at Mariah with eyes that were almost manic. “I didn’t want to leave her…I didn’t. She promised me! She promised to come and find me.”

His hands rose to cover his face, his spine bent forward. “—I tried to flee and hide somewhere.” he said between sobs. “Then the cliff…and the water, and darkness took over…”

“No signs of mom or dad…” he continued, crying loudly. “I thought…that if they escaped the bandits, they’d surely look for me…so I waited.”

Mariah stepped forward and hugged him, rubbing his back gently. Her gaze drifted to Peter, who sat on the side with a dark look on his face. His hands were balled tightly into fists.

He stood up and walked away, his jaw clenched.

…

Mariah found Peter a small distance away from the campsite, near a tree. Her gaze drifted to the tree, finding a newly made dent in the trunk.

“How is he doing?” he asked, looking toward the camp.

“Cried for an hour before falling asleep,” Mariah said before sighing. “We’ve got to do something.”

“It’s been more than a week...If there were any survivors, they would have found him by now,” Peter said. “They’re either dead or captured. It’s a miracle that he survived alone this long.”

“Yes, it is,” Mariah said, sitting down, her back leaning against the tree. “Any predator would have made a quick meal out of him.”

“I say—,” she stopped a bit to emphasise on her next words before continuing, “—we find those bastards and deliver justice…and if anyone’s alive, rescue them.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Peter said, locking eyes with her. “Plenty of scum in the hideout. I won’t be able to keep my focus on you.”

Mariah smirked, “If you think I’m going to sit back and continue on the journey, you’re wrong.” Her tone shifted, simmering anger melted into each of her words. “If they attacked once, they’re going to do it again. Even if…there’s no one to rescue, we must put an end to them before,” She looked toward the camp. “…before more children become orphans or worse.”

“Very well,” Peter said, tipping his head up to look at the blue sky. “But we’ll do it my way.” The way Tarin cried reminded Peter of his own state during the kobold attack. Despite having the power, Peter would be a hypocrite if he didn’t do anything to help the poor boy.

…

“Where is everyone else?” Tarin asked, looking around the camp.

“There’s no one besides me and Peter.” Mariah answered absentmindedly from her position on a nearby boulder, her gaze fixed on the horses grazing peacefully some distance away.

“…Just two,” he mumbled, face twisted in doubt. “But isn’t it dangerous to travel without a large group?”

Mariah let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. “Not always,” she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “If you’re strong enough, it’s not a concern. That brat? He’s got the power to match his mouth.”

“So, it’s true then?”

“What is?” Mariah asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head as she turned around to give him her attention.

“That he’s a powerful…” his voice lowered into a whisper, “and much older than he looks.”

“Ohh, he’s powerful for sure. Though not yet sure if he’s some ancient relic,” Mariah said, a side of her lip raised in amusement.

“Then…” Tarin hesitated, rubbing his hands. “Can he save my parents? Please?” His breathing grew uneven. “We’ve got the money…he—he can have it all. Just save everyone…”

The grin dropped from Mariah’s face. She nodded, “We’ll try our best, but…it’ll take a bit of time.” She paused to smile apologetically at him. “We don’t know where their hideout is yet.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him that everyone from the caravan might not be alive. She knew that deep down, he knew it already.

…

Peter sat cross-legged at the far end of the campsite, the sun casting soft light through the swaying branches above. He kept his eyes closed, having told Mariah that he was going to meditate, but a subtle tilt of his head betrayed the curiosity stirring just beneath his stillness. His ears stayed tuned to their voices.

In the last few days, he had been constantly using his IDE to re-examine his defensive skills to find out how an outside interference managed to affect his mind without alerting him. The audit had only made him more confused. His skills were working fine.

Peter had been left baffled by the results. ‘If the skills are fine…it becomes hard to blame Deathknell for it,’ he mused. ‘It doesn’t have much intelligence to perform a subtle enough mental attack to influence me…besides,’ he paused, mentally shaking his head. ‘the System wouldn’t have remained quiet. Influencing me like that is a direct breach of contract.’

‘Something else is at play here,’ he thought, opening his IDE. ‘If the skills aren’t faulty, then that doesn’t leave a lot of culprits behind.’

‘It’s to be one of these three: Negative Karma, or New Titles, or My Class.’ He thought, opening up the stat description of Karma.

...End Of Chapter...

Let's go bandit hunting!!!