HTWBB Chapter 14

Rietta nodded lightly to show she understood. This was welcome news. It seemed Grace hadn't chased after mere rumors. She'd have to see for herself whether it was a werewolf, but something definitely seemed to be here.

"If you really must go, just play around where the path is visible."

"I will."

"Oh, right. We're opening a special brew in a few days, so I hope you'll come down and drink some. It's free for lodgers."

"That's good. Understood."

Rietta, who was about to leave after setting down the water glass, immediately returned to the innkeeper. She raised her hand to about her waist height and spoke.

"Do you happen to know a girl about this tall? Wheat-colored hair with green eyes."

"Green eyes, then, ah, that vagrant?"

Vagrant? Rietta raised her eyebrows. The innkeeper, confirming it was the kid with freckles, rambled on with words no one had asked for.

"She came to this village with her father a few years ago, but unluckily, her father was killed by a magical beast. At first, the villagers took care of her, but when was it? Ah, she bit Roman, who lives near that stream. She bit him so hard that flesh came off. After that, no one's paid attention to her for a long time."

"I see."

He affirmed with something like a groan and clicked his tongue.

"I give her food sometimes, but if Roman finds out, there's no telling what I'll hear, so please don't tell anyone."

"Understood. But where does the child stay?"

"There's an abandoned hut in the forest that a woodcutter who died three years ago used. That much, well, even Roman seems to let it slide since it's pitiful."

This Roman was the only son of the village chief, he said. In place of the old man nearing the end of his days, he seemed to play the role of this village's real power.

When the most powerful person stepped forward to ostracize her, the whole village didn't protect the small girl. In such a sparsely populated village, the moment you fell out of favor with someone like Roman, life became difficult—it wasn't incomprehensible.

Without even the innkeeper's sympathy, the girl might soon have been discovered as a cold corpse. Rietta silently examined his face. Sympathy and some unpleasant something were mixed together in an ambiguous expression.

It felt like he hadn't said something important, but since she was an outsider, it would be presumptuous to ask more questions.

"But why her?"

Melian raised his hand high.

"We received help on the way here. She guided us all the way here too."

"Really? That's unusual."

He grumbled but cleared his throat, saying she earns the meals she gets. He didn't look particularly displeased. Rietta, lowering Melian's arm, asked casually.

"Does the child happen to have any health problems or anything?"

"Hm? That can't be. Whatever else, she was born with good health. So getting hit that much..."

The innkeeper, who had been rambling thoughtlessly, caught himself with an 'oops' and glanced at Rietta. He cleared his throat loudly and waved his hand.

"Ahem! Anyway, be careful."

There seemed nothing more to learn, so they went outside. Since the distance between houses here was quite wide, there was no place that could really be called a center.

Most were self-sufficient through farming, so it was generally open no matter which way you looked. As they walked toward the forest and turned onto a quiet road, Melian spoke.

"Why that girl?"

"She's suspicious."

"I thought so too. She seemed a bit strange from the moment I saw her."

From how she was rushing somewhere, not even knowing a carriage was coming, it wasn't an ordinary case. There was no way she couldn't have heard the carriage sound in a forest quiet except for insects and birdsong.

It didn't look like she had jumped in deliberately, so there must have been an urgent matter so pressing that the noisy sound couldn't be heard.

Rietta recalled the bundle the small hands had been clutching. Those hands that held onto it like a lifeline—medicinal herbs in far too large a quantity for one person's use.

Even while trembling violently, the girl absolutely never made the choice to release it from her arms. Rather than being sick herself, someone else must be ill.

"Right. The innkeeper said that kid lives alone."

She looked at the coniferous forest stretching as if to touch the sky. The place those anxiously rolling light green eyes had constantly turned toward was definitely the forest.

The search had little to show for it. It had apparently rained a few days prior, and most of what appeared to be footprints had been washed away, making proper identification difficult.

Based on Grace's information, Rietta tentatively assumed the footprints belonged to a werewolf. Judging by the state of the moon, it would be a full moon in three days, so she planned to enter deep into the forest after that passed and spent her time idly in the meantime.

Fortunately, after the full moon passed, it didn't rain until the day when one corner of the moon was dyed black. Rietta, who had been waiting only for dawn, left the inn with Melian as soon as the sun hung in the sky.

"The atmosphere is strange."

"Right. I don't hear any sounds."

The feeling was strange from the very entrance where people frequently traveled. Completely opposite from a few days ago, it exuded an unsettling and somehow desolate atmosphere.

Rietta turned her gaze to the dark interior where sunlight occasionally filtered through branches. The forest, where not even a bird's call could be heard, was more than quiet—it was silent.

She looked back at Melian. Fully recovered, he looked lively despite the hot weather, probably because he'd come to a place with many trees.

"Let's go in."

The traces of people that had appeared sporadically on the outer edges vanished entirely with just a slight step inward.

The forest was deeper than expected. Rietta, carefully observing her surroundings as she advanced, stopped at a clearing where a beam of sunlight cut diagonally through the canopy.

She bent down and carefully placed her hand on the ground. It had been about twenty minutes. Footprints really were there. Melian, who had been searching from the opposite direction, sensed the situation and quickly approached.

"How is it?"

"Grace was right. They're wolf footprints, but not from a normal specimen."

"Then..."

Rietta nodded.

"It might really be a werewolf. But I don't think it's an adult."

Rietta continued as she traced the footprint.

"The size is ambiguously small compared to what we heard. It looks similar to your appearance back on Mount Tarun."

"Y-you remembered that?"

"What do you take me for?"

"No, Rietta, you were the one who first, so nonchalantly took off your clothes..."

His face flushed as he grumbled, saying she treated him like a child. Rietta withdrew her attention from Melian and stood back up. Judging by the clues, the werewolf here was likely either just before reaching adulthood or slightly younger.

However, she'd heard the "Moon Tide" was passed down to the leader and their mate. Perhaps the artifact they were looking for wasn't here.

Rietta, having reached that conclusion, began moving inward again.

Priscilla skillfully navigated between trees with a limping gait. She was in a hurry. A few days ago, she'd nearly been hit by a carriage while crossing the forest with no leisure to look around, but fortunately met good people and came out unscathed.

At that time, she had somehow ended up deep inside the village, and only after finding herself alone did her muddled mind clear. She belatedly noticed that her knee had scraped against the ground.

It was a very light wound compared to the accident, and since she had reasonably good recovery ability, surely by now there should have been almost no trace. However, today, going to the village because food had run out became a problem.

'Where do you think you're coming down to again?'

They were children who always liked to show off. They, who had been swaggering toward her as usual, noticed Priscilla's body was uncomfortable and their eyes lit up.

Bill, the tallest of them, grabbed the girl's hair and violently pulled. Her scabbed leg suffered further injury, bleeding badly enough to look gruesome. The children only left after the tavern owner yelled at them.

'Go back before anyone sees!'

At that gesture mixed with a hint of worry, Priscilla desperately fled, dragging her leg that was hard to move. Fortunately, the children didn't seem to make any effort to chase her.

The girl looked at her empty hands without even hard bread and choked back tears that threatened to come. She'd delayed time without any gain.

After passing the tree with the red cloth tied to it, her shabby hut finally came into view. Relief rushed in sharply, draining all strength from her body.

'No. I'm already late.'

As she stepped inside, the familiar scenery filled her vision. An impulse to just lie down anywhere on the wooden floor struck her. The girl shook her head and quickly unpacked the bundle she'd hidden like a lifeline.

"Ah..."

She had forgotten that little remained of the medicinal herbs. When she'd nearly been hit by the carriage, some of the herbs she'd separated and wrapped came loose from the impact of her fall. The problem was that she'd hastily bundled them back together in her rushed state.

She had already used them several times since then. Priscilla rummaged bitterly through the jumbled herb powder and carefully gathered what little remained. It still looked like it could be used about two more times.

The herbs only grew naturally on the complete opposite side from where she stayed, so it was troublesome, but not so far she couldn't go again. This time, Priscilla, having firmly packed the herbs and put them together with several glass bottles, left the hut with no time to rest.

"I'm not too late, am I?"

With an anxious heart, she muttered the question to herself as she headed behind the hut. She skillfully navigated through the pathless area, dragging her aching leg.

Pain from the wound she'd sustained on top of the first one persistently got on her nerves. Keeping her increasingly slowing steps in check, the place she arrived at was a small cave.

The girl walked to a certain spot on the cliff that was entirely green with mixed moss and unidentified vines. When she gently pushed aside the vines hanging to the ground, a completely dark entrance revealed itself like an open maw.

"Lycaon?"

Surely the fire she'd lit had been burning until just before her departure. Yet, within, there was nothing but darkness except for the faint sunlight filtering from the outside.

Priscilla called the name again and moved deep into the cave almost at a run. Nearly extinguished firewood and various household items, and shining golden eyes greeted her in the darkness. The girl let out a deep breath and approached close to the eyes.

"Why were you sitting in the dark like this?"

Scolding softly, she brought firewood piled on one side and put it into the remaining fire. When she blew several breaths to revive the embers, the cave interior brightened quickly. Only then did Priscilla plop down and turn her head.

"How's your pain? Are you okay?"

The revived fire flickered and danced on the gray fur. A wolf much larger than the girl's body let out a lukewarm puff of breath through its nose.

Priscilla, who had furrowed her brows, quickly moved forward and felt around the wolf's rib area. Blood was faintly seeping from a wound torn long from near the back down to the belly.

"See! How can you say you're okay like this! Wait just a moment."

Priscilla, who had turned pale, unwrapped the bundle she'd brought. Her small hands moved busily. The girl, who put the mixed herbs into the glass bottle she'd brought and shook it a couple times, raised her head at the shadow falling from above.

Something moist touched her forehead, then immediately her cheek was licked lengthily upward. The girl who had been making medicine with a stiff face burst into clear laughter.

"What are you doing? I told you to just wait a little."

"Sniff."

"That tickles! Stop, Lycaon!"

When the wolf pressed close and licked her face two more times, the girl who had been dodging here and there tumbled backward. Just before her head hit the floor, a hand covered in wounds gently caught her back.