Chapter 118 - 117: Beastman

Chapter 118: Chapter 117: Beastman

He hadn’t finished his sentence.

Hulk had just brought his hand to the Beastman Zande’s nose and confirmed a faint sign of life. "Good, he’s still breathing..."

The members of the Dragon Fang Squad turned in unison to stare at the gourmet.

Trist flinched under their stares. He quickly threw his hands up, his face twisting into a smile that looked more painful than crying. He stammered, "Uh... I... I saw you stripped off all his gear... and, well, it’d be a waste to just leave the body..."

"He’s alive."

"Ah? A-Alive?" Trist froze for a second. Then, an enthusiastic smile bloomed on his face as his tone did a complete one-eighty. "Alive is good! Of course, alive is good! I have seasonings in my cabin... er, herbs! Yes, herbs! We need to get him over there, now!"

Hulk had no time for this man who could only think about recipes.

He took out a small bottle of Healing Potion from the leather pouch at his waist, pried open the Beastman’s jaws, and poured the entire Potion down his throat.

Soon, the minor wounds on the Beastman’s body began to heal at a visible rate.

However, when the healing energy reached the ghastly wound across his chest and abdomen,

wisps of black energy seeped from its edges. Like hungry leeches, they greedily devoured the influx of Life Energy.

Instead of healing, the exposed flesh only grew more charred and corrupted.

Hulk’s brow furrowed, and his expression darkened.

"It’s not safe here. Let’s get out first."

He then lifted Zande’s massive body onto his back, and the others divided the heavy pieces of armor among themselves.

The group started to retrace their steps, making their way out.

The bodies of the common Kobolds on the ground were worthless. Normally, the squad would have cut off the tips of their tails as proof for the commission, but since their client, Trist, had been with them the whole time, he could simply sign off on it, making that step unnecessary.

...

「Inside the cabin in the woods.」

The Beastman Warrior Zande’s powerful frame was laid in the cabin’s only hammock. The rough animal hide and rope netting stretched taut beneath his immense weight, groaning in protest.

Hulk inspected the ghastly wound across Zande’s chest and abdomen.

On the edges of the charred, necrotic flesh, wisps of black energy still writhed slowly, as if alive.

"The Healing Potion’s effects are being counteracted," Hulk said grimly. "Let’s apply a poultice and wrap it in bandages to stop the bleeding for now."

Belte heard this and immediately pulled out a few packets of standard hemostatic powder from his pack, preparing to tend to the wound.

"That common stuff won’t be very effective." Trist glanced at the powder in Belte’s hands and shook his head.

He turned, walked out the wooden door, and returned a moment later with a handful of plants. Their leaves were grayish-green, and their undersides were covered in a fine down.

"Fresh Purple Pearl Leaf," he said, showing the herbs to Hulk. "It’s far more effective than that standard powder you carry."

When Hulk nodded in approval, Trist fetched a stone mortar and pestle and began to grind the leaves with practiced ease.

His movements were deft. With each rise and fall of the stone pestle, a sap smelling of earth and fresh grass was released.

With his focused expression and precise technique, he looked more like an experienced Pharmacist than a gourmet who researched Demon recipes.

For safety reasons, everyone had rested in the open space outside the cabin last night.

Although they had been inside once the day before, they had left in a hurry because of Little Treasure Pearl’s disappearance. Hesia hadn’t had a chance to look around.

Now, while Trist was busy grinding the herbs, he took the opportunity to carefully examine the cabin, a place filled with jarring inconsistencies.

On one wall hung dried meat and various animal skeletons; on another, an exquisitely crafted Hand Crossbow.

Other furnishings in the cabin also caught Hesia’s attention.

A huge water tank, completely out of place in this simple wooden cabin, was placed near the hammock.

On several pieces of dark wood furniture were carved strange and complex geometric patterns he had never seen before.

Hesia circled the room, finally stopping at a wooden table against the wall.

On the table lay a sheet of yellowed parchment. It was covered in writing he couldn’t recognize, its strokes twisted yet elegant.

Just as he leaned in curiously, trying to make it out, a hand shot out like lightning and snatched the paper away.

Trist forced a stiff smile and tucked the parchment into his coat. "Sorry, that’s... my diary."

"My apologies," Hesia replied politely. "I couldn’t read it anyway. The writing... it didn’t look like the Common Language?"

The corner of Trist’s mouth twitched. His eyes darted away as he mumbled, "Mmm... it’s a script I learned years ago on the Southern Continent, from a tribe that was on the brink of extinction. Nobody uses it anymore. Perfect for a diary, you know? Using a ’dead language’ is the safest way to go."

He hastily tucked the parchment away, clearly unwilling to discuss it further, then made an excuse and headed for the door. "I’m going to give Little Treasure Pearl something to eat."

Hesia noticed his obvious avoidance and didn’t press the issue.

’His question had just been a test, and Trist’s overreaction only confirmed that there was something strange about that parchment.’

’In the few short seconds he’d leaned in, his 17-point Wisdom Attribute had already burned the script into his memory, perfectly and without error.’

...

By the hammock, the most noticeable wounds on the Beastman Zande’s body had been coated in a dark green poultice of Purple Pearl Leaf.

"His wounds are severe, but at least the herbs have stopped the bleeding," Hulk said, looking at Zande’s iconic tusks with a sigh. "I really didn’t expect him to be a Beastman."

Then he suddenly turned to Hesia. "Remember those markings you saw on the walls near Giant Stone Camp? The ones pointing out berries and water sources?"

"I remember. Does it have something to do with him?"

"Yeah," Hulk said. "I heard from Kalin that this Warrior, Zande, was one of the first Adventurers to start doing that. He doesn’t talk much and used to work alone, but he would often quietly help other Adventurers in trouble, either by leaving signs or driving off dangerous Demons."

There was a hint of respect in Hulk’s voice, which surprised Hesia a little.

’In his experience, the stoic captain rarely showed such obvious emotion toward anyone.’

"I want to take him back to Rose Town," Hulk said, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Zande, his tone firm. He then shot a glance toward the doorway. "His wounds won’t heal if he stays here. Besides, we can’t risk his arm or leg ending up as someone’s breakfast."

Hesia understood what Hulk meant.

’He was being asked for his opinion.’

’Taking a heavily wounded man with them—especially a massive Beastman—would undeniably slow their journey home and add unknown risks.’

’As the captain, Hulk had to consider the entire squad’s safety and opinions.’

But Hesia barely hesitated.

’For one, he hadn’t forgotten the care and support the captain had shown him since he joined the squad.’

’As a member of the squad, he chose to respect his captain’s decision.’

’For another, while tavern rumors painted Beastmen as savage brutes, he held no such prejudice.’

’Besides, he had a feeling the dense fog in the cave was connected to the mist in the Gray Mist Forest. His own curiosity urged him to want Zande to wake up and provide answers.’

"I agree," Hesia replied. "But... it’s a seven-day journey back. Will he last until we reach town?"

"His Physique is much sturdier than we imagined. As long as we can get him to town, a visit to the church might just save his life."

Hesia nodded.

Belte and Laila also had no objections.

The matter was thus settled.