“The grasslands make for the majority of the northern territory. Truly, outside the Free Cities, there isn't as much as a soul. You have valleys, hills, plains, forests. Animals, yes, but people ? No. If you manage to go further north, you can find the Ash mountains. Beyond that, who knows ? No, it's not like the Ash mountains are a deadly place like the western mountains. Probably not ? We don't know. Because very few are the ones who reach the ashes. Most of the time, they'll freeze to death or they'll encounter bandits. Hm ? Of course there are bandits. I said you couldn't find souls and people, only animals. What do you think bandits are ? They stink, they're hairy and they don't know how to speak properly. Hah.”

-Saraela, captain of Atharemine's city watch”

* * *

Azcheron

Dawn came, and the eastern sunlight allowed Azcheron and Erin to finally see the hills and valleys in all their beauty. It was summer, but here the weather wasn't exactly hot, it actually felt almost fresh. That itself was hinting at the harsh winters of these lands. Of course, the Imperial army knew that too, and the point was probably to conquer as much of the north as possible before the cold and the snows came. That would explain why Karia was restlessly sieging one city after the other.

“I was somewhat surprised,” Azcheron said as he and Erin slowly rode down a grassy slope.

“About ?”

“The Great Sorceress, of course.”

Erin gave a wry smile. “What were you expecting ?”

He scratched his chin. “Eh, I don't know. But heroes surely aren't what they seem. Very different from the ones in books.”

The noble paladin Oscar is a massive jerk, the brave lady Karia is some kind of fanatic, and Roharl... it's not hard to figure he has his own secrets.

“I was also surprised by that woman. For a different reason, actually.” Azcheron glanced at Erin, waiting for her to continue. “The fanatical hatred of demons aside, she almost seemed like a sympathetic general. A devoted leader, considerate of her troops... And somewhat gullible too. I almost feel bad for tricking her.”

The Saint gazed at the green scenery, thinking. “Hmm.”

We can't assume yet that we successfully tricked her, but for now nothing fishy happened, so...

“...Is it weird ?” she asked in a hesitant tone that disconcerted Azcheron.

What's wrong with you, dear Erin ? He squinted his eyes. “I don't know, why would it be ?”

Erin's horse stopped. He looked at her, a few meters away, before coming very close and staring straight into her eyes.

“Your mind is clouded. A dull sword cannot cut through the leaf. Only a sharp mind can wield a sharp sword,” he said confidently.

“...What ?”

Azcheron tilted his head. “What do you mean 'what' ? Don't you understand why I'm saying ? Aren't you a swordsman ?”

Erin showed a crooked smile barely hiding her internal cringing. “Were you quoting one of Anton's novels, by any chance ?” He nodded confidently, and she sighed. “Yes, I imagined that much...”

He shrugged off the awkwardness. “Well, you get what I mean.”

“Do I ? I'm not sure.”

“Ah, come on. Tell me what's wrong before you get the both of us killed during a battle.”

She kept silent for a while, frowning, before eventually speaking. “It's just that I've always hated self-righteous people and pointless slaughter. Now I realized that not only I indulge in these things I hate, but I also became indifferent toward it.”

If I say you're just going through character development, will you hit me ?

“Are you worried that you're turning in a villain or something ? That you're becoming evil ? Looks like you're morally conflicted !”

“Shut up.” She knitted her brows even further. “It's a moral conflict in name only. I'm just dealing with disgust toward myself right now. It'll pass.”

Azcheron gave her a radiant grin. “Disgust is fine. Anger, frustration and disdain are fine. You're fine. The fact that you're aware of it and disturbed by it, that means you're still human.” He leaned even closer than before, his nose almost touching hers. “And yes, you're a hypocrite. You kill in cold blood, yet you still cling to some fragile ideals and morals. You could say you're not any different from the others. But it's fine. I'm the one causing you to murder all these people. It's my fault, your job is to protect me and I jump into trouble at the first opportunity, right !”

“...You sound like you're bragging.”

He backed away and sat on his saddle. “Yes, exactly. You can blame it on me. You can say you're influenced by my company. After all, am I not an uncaring, hypocritical bastard too ?”

He paused, thinking up a stylish line, before going on. “So don't hate yourself for such things, dear Erin. It's fine. I like you the way you are, and I still will even if you become evil and sadistic.”

She was fazed for a second, but managed to counter attack soon enough. “Don't casually babble such cool things to a pure maiden.” She got her smirk back. “Bloody oaf.”

“What, you're a pure maiden now ?” he mocked. “Did I make your heart skip a beat ?”

She shrugged. “Young ladies are known to fall in love over less than that.”

“True, forgive me, my lady. How did you like that captain treating you like a delicate flower, by the way ?”

Erin clicked her tongue and began to ride away. Heh. Well, at least we avoided drama ! I don't need that in my tale.

Azcheron followed her. He grumbled as he noticed he couldn't keep with her pace without falling from his mount. Petty revenge.

* * *

A week later, they reached a forest. From the woods, Atharemine was only a day away. They were glad to camp in the forest that night, since it was much safer than the hills. Azcheron was especially happy, because he could use his abominable ear-fruit artefact.

Not that they really were fearing for their own safety. They took turns to keep watch, and even individually they would manage to fend off any kind of threat. But the damn ear-thing was still an enigma and therefore Azcheron wanted to test it. At least he'd see if the wild beasts were affected. Erin and the horses didn't seem do suffer from any loss of balance or sudden nausea. And since bandits were using it before, it was obvious it could be used to protect a group. Maybe it only worked on people approaching, not people already close ? Or there was another mysterious criteria. Azcheron hoped to get some answer during the night. The fire should attract the biggest lurkers of the forest, he thought while rubbing his hands together.

And indeed, it did attract large lurkers. Not the size Azcheron was expecting. Even better. As the groans and vomiting sounds were increasing around the camp, he thought Karia's troops might have tried to ambush them. He examined the surroundings, and after being proved wrong, gently shook Erin's shoulder to wake her.

“Dear Erin,” he whispered. “Wake up, we have friends visiting us. They seem somewhat indisposed, should we check on them ?”

She muttered some insult as she half-opened her eyes only to see the smile of Azcheron.

“Shhh. Listen !” He silenced her until he made sure she could hear the guttural sounds and moans of pain. His smile reached his ears and he was pretty sure he had the face of a merry madman. “What kind of animal would make such noises, I wonder... Do you have an idea ?”

She still seemed sleepy and therefore probably had trouble focusing and understanding that Azcheron was serious, so he helped her a bit.

“Here's a hint ! It's an animal that doesn't wash very often.”

Erin's eyes widened and she reached for her dagger in a split second. “Bandits !?”

“Congratulations ! You won the first prize. I give you half of them.”

She cursed and grabbed her armour and gear. “Are you kidding me ? You told me your ignoble ear-thing would keep us safe, yet I wake up surrounded by bandits.”

“Puking bandits,” Azcheron corrected her. “And we're safe, aren't we ?”

It was rather true. There wasn't a ruffian here who was far enough to be unaffected by the artefact, and in such a state nobody would manage to get up and attack, not even hold a bow or throw a knife.

“So what, do we murder them all now ?” she asked as she strapped one last dagger to her belt.

“Something along these lines. Hopefully you won't have those morals thingies hindering you ?” he couldn't help mocking her.

She grunted, not bothering to answer, so he carried on.

“Well, I was thinking about finding their leader and their camp before doing that, so we can bring some heads to the lord of Atharemine. It'd make it easier for us to enter peacefully. Anyway, I have an idea.”

She nodded and sat down, letting him handle the situation. He turned off the artefact and waited for the dozen of bandits to come to their senses. As the naive, brutish scoundrels that they were, the bandits were quick to cast aside their confusion and got their act together. Pointing their swords at the two, greedily gazing at their gear, purses and horses, and finally staring at Erin with lustful eyes.

One of the bandits, in the back, had a particularly horny smile. It displeased Azcheron. Soon that bandit had no head. Ah... My bad, the wind blade just went off. The others turned around as they heard the sound of a head and a corpse falling on the ground, but in the end they ignored it, probably because of the darkness.

“Good evening, friends !” Azcheron greeted them with open arms, literally. “Are you perhaps in search of company ? Here, let us sit around the fire together, and tell each other stories of past deeds !”

“Shut yerr' trap !” yelled one bulky bandit with a single horn on his temple.

Ah, I love bandits. They're the same wherever you go. Always with the savage speech, the poor manners, the dirty appearance. It gives me a sense of comfort, knowing that there is some sort of universal law about them.

“There's only one sorta company we need an' it's yerr' girl right'ere !”

The bandits all laughed heartily, until another lustful-looking head fell. It belonged to the one who spoke last. Now they were rather wary and suspicious of Azcheron. Erin was still sitting against a tree, arms crossed, but, he knew, ready to swing and relieve a few more brigands of their heads.

Since they were now paying attention, he asked his question. “Is there a leader among your esteemed bunch ?”

Silence was the only answer he got. Perhaps they were shy, so he gave them some encouragement by cutting off another head before continuing.

“Very well, mud-eating wretches. Hear me out, you will be given two options. Choose wisely. You can each get unburdened from the sack of manure you call your heads, or you can introduce us to your leader and your camp, and keep your heads.” For now.

One of the less stupid-looking bandits spoke up. “Lord wizard, please don't kill us ! Ye' see, the boss will hang us if we bring'im yerr' lordship like that !”

“Then if we agree to become your prisoners for a short period of time, it should be fine, right ? Or I can grant you a fate worse than hanging.” he added with a smile. He wasn't sure himself if he was trying to ease them or to scare them.

That did the trick regardless. The bandits hesitantly surrounded Azcheron and Erin as they calmly packed their stuff and grabbed the reins of their horses. The brigands guided them outside the forest, and they walked for some time.

It was dawn when they arrived at a large valley with a sort of tiny village at its bottom. Pointy tents and some huts, with a large, decorated tent at the centre. Said decorations were furs and skins of dangerous animals, lots of swords and spears, and the bones of defeated enemies. Probably. The cracked skulls looked fairly defeated in any case. That's a bandit chief's tent if I ever saw one, Azcheron expertly concluded.

As they walked down the valley and entered the camp, more and more ruffians gathered around them, smirking and snickering. Intimidating stares and muscle showing was what Azcheron got, whereas a decidedly lucky Erin was honoured with sniffing noses and faces dripping with lechery.

He glanced at her and she made an expression that seemed to say 'I might end up killing a bit more than my promised half'.

Well, she can slaughter the whole camp for what I care ! I'm a generous person and I don't mind handing out my entire share to her. Is this what they call friendship ? No, could it be love !? Oh, Erin !

Once again, he glanced at her, trying to convey his feelings of generosity and kindness through a well-engineered smile, but the frown he got in return almost made him flinch. She didn't seem very receptive to his smiles right now. Perhaps later.

Meanwhile, they arrived at a large space in front of the chief's tent. It appeared that all the outlaws in the camp were massed on what probably served as the main plaza. Some ruffian went inside the tent and exited it shortly thereafter. A few seconds later, the chief showed himself.

Or was he the chief ?

The man had a lean, chiseled body, tanned skin, flowing blonde hair, a square jaw, a nice smile with pointy teeth and sky blue eyes with slit pupils. Who was that handsome man ? How the hell was he managing to look so clean and pretty in this pile of dirt they called a village ?

Well, they didn't call it a village but they're certainly acting like this place is one. Whatever.

“What do we have here ?” the demon asked. “Oh, new friends ? Please forgive the rudeness of my comrades. I am known as Kalithazar, a mere thief. Would it be improper of me to ask for your names ?”

Azcheron's heart broke, as he felt his universal law of banditry crumble under the existence of this man.