Hell Mode: Volume 11, page 28
The water from this river, however, served as the city’s water supply, and it was a lot calmer farther upstream, to the north. There was a stream that branched off from the river there, from which the city received its water. It entered from the northeast, flowing west of the church, which was home to a vast cemetery, and into the center of the city. The water then split west and southeast, with the west branch supplying water to the Nobles District of the city, where Viscount Howlden and the other nobles lived in their luxurious manors. From there, it headed south, to the eastern region of the city, before ultimately meeting back up with the other branch of the stream in the southeast and heading outside the city walls to the east. The water that left the city while carrying its waste rejoined the main river, but judging from the sentry’s earlier remarks, the outskirts village was located along the drainage route, or at least near the location where the stream met back up with the river.
Helmios made a map of the city in his head as he and his friends proceeded along the southern wall. At its end, he spotted what looked like a small hill around the corner. The hill was angled just right to give one the view of the walkway along the south and east walls of Howlden while also allowing them to gaze down at the watchtower at the corner where the two met. Past that hill was the river.
“I saw something move,” Ena whispered from the back of the group.
Helmios swiftly grabbed the blade slung across his back.
“Is it a monster?” Dorothy asked, clutching her staff and gazing around.
Ena stepped forward and stood beside Helmios, then pointed in the direction the group was headed—at the foot of the hill.
“Over there,” she said.
Helmios narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look. There was a valley between the hill and the outer wall, and the setting sun could not shed light on it, but he could see something shifting within the darkness.
“It’s a horned rabbit...” he muttered.
Ena grabbed an arrow from the quiver at her waist. She crouched down while nocking it and began taking large, quiet strides. As she moved, Helmios peered over her shoulder at the shadow darting around the small valley, making sure he was ready to charge forward at a moment’s notice.
A sharp twang rang out. A loud squeal came from the valley, and Ena rushed over. Helmios gave chase with Gatsun and Dorothy in tow, but Ena was first to reach her prey. The horned rabbit had peeked out from a hole on the side of the hill, which had led to its demise. Ena squatted beside the rabbit’s twitching torso and took out a dagger to dig a hole in the ground.
Helmios and the others watched as the girl expertly brought the rabbit’s throat near the hole she had just dug and, with one swift swing, slit the monster’s throat. The stench of blood filled the air, and Helmios and his friends inadvertently covered their noses with the sleeves of their jackets, but Ena quickly drained all the blood, removed the arrow piercing her prey, and returned it to her quiver. When the rabbit’s convulsions finally stopped, she poured dirt into the hole to cover the blood, then she grabbed the monster’s horn and dragged the rest of its body out of its burrow.
“What are you gonna do with it?” Helmios asked.
Gasping, Ena whirled to face her friends, a troubled look on her face. “I...don’t know.”
Helmios recalled that she was a serf from Cortana Village and had lived with her family. Even in Cortana Village, it was the role of the serfs to defeat or chase away any monsters that approached, and since Ena had a Talent, perhaps she had fought goblins and the like before her Appraisal Ceremony, just like Helmios. Perhaps she had not even been aware of her power and skills as she and her parents had hunted monsters.
“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Gatsun said.
“Hey! Don’t you have any shame? You can’t just take people’s stuff!” Dorothy scolded him.
“Sure,” Ena replied.
“Really?” Helmios asked.
“If we leave it here, other monsters might show up because they smelled its blood. We don’t want that to happen, do we?”
“No wonder you drained its blood and buried it in dirt.”
Ena nodded, but Helmios did not miss her face twisting slightly as though she were about to burst into tears. I wonder if something happened. Like maybe someone important to her was killed by a monster or something. Just then, a translucent fifty-centimeter-long window appeared right in front of his eyes. He yelped in surprise, but he quickly realized that it was a virtual window—the same one he had seen when he had met First Angel Merus and God of Creation Elmea in his dream while on his way to Howlden. Lord Merus said I can summon this window whenever I like, but I don’t remember doing that. Did he create it for me? Wait, there’s something written here.
Helmios attempted to read the symbols on the virtual window, but it was filled with words he could not read or had never seen before. The only things he recognized were the numbers “1” and “8.” If he could read the virtual window, he would have known that it was a log of his achievement.
Helmios could only stare at the cryptic symbols in front of him, causing Dorothy to turn to him quizzically.
“What’s up, Helmios?” she asked. “Is there another monster out there or something?”
“No, I think we’re fine,” Helmios replied as he made the virtual window vanish.
Maybe my friends can’t see the window? There’s gotta be a reason. Why am I the only one who can see it? Oh, I think I get it. Maybe it’s like the Demon Lord and not something everyone should know about.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” Helmios added. “Let’s go.”
He feigned composure and walked ahead, his sword still unsheathed. Ena followed with her bow in hand, and Gatsun grabbed the horned rabbit while Dorothy clutched her staff. When they finally reached the end of the outer wall on their left, they all poked their heads out to look down the eastern wall. To their left was the wall itself, and to their right was the hill. From the valley to the top of the hill was about five hundred meters, and about two hundred meters beyond that stood a wooden fence. It started at the wall and extended east.
“Is that the outskirts village?” Helmios wondered.
The four of them proceeded due north, following the wall until they were close enough to the fence that Helmios was able to make out the details. He sighed at the sorry state it was in—it was made from some rough, uneven scraps of wood, and though it had been put together well, there were dark, damp spots that were rotting away. As the kids got closer, they noticed a moat that was about ten meters wide inside the fence, presumably meant to protect the village from monsters. It had become a prime spot for rainwater to accumulate, however, and the dark, murky water instead looked like a good shield to keep the invaders from being spotted.
Helmios and his friends stopped in front of the fence and turned right. They ventured eastward, along the curved fence, and after three hundred meters or so, they spotted a bridge that went over the moat. When they approached it, they saw that it was guarded by a pair of sentries in leather armor.
“Halt!” one of them shouted.
Helmios froze, realizing too late that he still had his sword drawn. He quickly dropped his sheath and put away his blade.
“Oh, you guys are kids...” that same sentry remarked.
“Those clothes... You must be from the city,” the other commented. “This is an outskirts village. What are you here for?”
The two guards peppered the kids with questions, and Helmios struggled to quickly come up with an excuse. The outskirts village was filled with people in need who wished to enter Howlden but were unable to do so. Helmios wanted to help them, but he had to know what the village was like before he could offer any sort of aid. He had planned this trip with that in mind. Unfortunately, if he honestly stated his reasons, he would not receive any sort of support. That much had been made as clear as day by Burton the head butler’s remarks the day prior, as he was the one who had ultimately dealt with the incident Helmios had jumped into. Knowing that, Helmios had not told Gatsun or Principal Muhato his true goal for this trip.
Helmios’s plan had gone smoothly—a little too smoothly. Dorothy and Ena had also tagged along without the need for further explanation, meaning the boy had never had to explain his actual reason for leaving the city. He had not expected anyone else to ask either, thus he had not planned any sort of response.
“Helmios, what now?” Dorothy asked.
The boy could not even come up with a proper lie, and while he wished to visit the outskirts village, he had no plans for after that. If nothing else, he wanted to at least get into the village, but given that the sun had all but set, he wondered if it was about time to head back to Howlden and call it a day.
“Those clothes... You guys are from the Talent School,” a sentry noted. “Do you have business with the village chief?”
“We do,” Helmios swiftly replied.
The two guards nodded at each other before turning their backs to the kids and walking toward the bridge.
“Come with us. We’ll show you the way,” one said.
Helmios still did not know what had just occurred, but he decided to rely on his good luck as he followed the men. Dorothy and the others cautiously followed. Once the men saw that the children had crossed the bridge, all four of them were allowed to pass through the entryway and into the city. Helmios tried to thank the sentries, but before he could, one piped up to give him a warning.
“A word of advice: Don’t wear those clothes next time you leave the city. People will know right away that you’re from the Talent School, and you’ll get kidnapped by Talent hunters.”
“I wanna say that you kids will be safe here, but I can’t guarantee that there aren’t any Talent hunters who’ve snuck in,” the other sentry added. “Don’t use any skills that rely on your Talents. And of course, don’t use your weapons. Talents or no Talents, we don’t really want any trouble.”
Helmios nodded. “Got it. We’ll be careful.”
He thanked the guards and entered the village. Upon doing so, he immediately found himself lost for words. There was a clearing in front of the gate, but the soil under their feet was dark and slick, implying that the nearby river had flooded the village numerous times, leading to poor drainage in the soil. As a result, the homes around the clearing were small cabins made of simple wood planks, but their exteriors were dark and moldy.
The homes were cramped together, with just enough space between any two to fit an adult, and the poorly maintained paths were being walked by people in dirty, shabby clothes. Everyone in the village looked utterly exhausted due to the squalid living conditions, and some of them cast looks of resignation. Every now and then, someone would turn to Helmios and the other kids, but out of disinterest or maybe exhaustion, they soon turned back and walked on. I had no idea the village was like this... Is this where those kids from yesterday lived?!
Helmios recalled the incident from the previous day, when he had bumped into the family that had snuck into the city while on his way back from the viscount’s manor. A goblin had attacked their village, and they had barely managed to flee, but if they had fled to this outskirts village, it was understandable that they had feared that they would be attacked again. I’m sure the people staying here are worried too, but they don’t have the luxury to just leave like that family. But what reason do they have to stay? As Helmios asked himself several questions, he heard a voice and instinctively walked toward it.
“Helmios? Where’re you going?” Gatsun asked.
“Someone’s crying!” the boy replied without so much as turning toward his friend.
Helmios crossed the clearing and entered the narrow alley between two houses. Ena was the first to chase after him, followed by a nervous Gatsun and Dorothy. The four walked atop the damp ground and between the hovels. None of the homes even had the luxury of a door, Helmios noticed. If a tenant did not use dirty cloth to give themself a smidgen of privacy, the interior of their house would be on full display for any passersby, including Helmios and his friends.
Unable to keep their curiosity in check, Gatsun and Dorothy peered into a few homes that had no cover. They noticed that the houses did not even have proper floors; residents walked across the dirt and spent their time on mats. There was no furniture, and the homes were dimly lit, like the interior of a cave. Villagers simply huddled together, possibly for warmth or comfort. Such clear signs of poverty made the kids grimace with fear and pity. Every now and then, they would lock eyes with villagers, and they were overwhelmed by the feeling that they had seen something they should not have.
Gatsun and Dorothy eventually faced forward and kept their eyes straight ahead. When they rounded a corner, they, too, finally became able to hear the sounds of a crying child.
“Um, Helmios...” Dorothy started as the group came to a small clearing.
Right in front of them, near the fence that surrounded the village, were the remains of a hovel. The house itself had crumbled away, reduced to a pile of wooden debris that a handful of men were taking from to repair a hole in the fence. Dorothy spotted a splatter of blood by the edge of the hole and shuddered, dropping her staff. Helmios, the first on the scene, saw a woman sitting on the ground beside the remains of the hovel. A boy clung to her arm and was crying at the top of his lungs.
“Waaaaah!” he screamed.
His mother, gazing at him with worry, looked up when she noticed someone approaching them, her face pale.
“You’re hurt,” Helmios said.
The woman could only stare in wonder at the five-year-old boy, and Helmios spotted blood seeping out from the cloth that swaddled her child. He placed a hand over the crying boy.
“Heal!” he chanted.
A faint, warm glow, reminiscent of a candle, appeared and gathered beneath Helmios’s hand. The tiny ball of light then melted away like a knot that had suddenly been undone. Right away, the child stopped crying, and the shocked woman removed the cloth to see her healed son sleeping in her arms, tired from all his crying.
“Peita! You’re all right!” she gasped, her voice filled with joy and astonishment.
Helmios noticed that the woman’s arms were covered in scratches, and he decided to heal her as well. Vwum. A virtual window popped up in front of Helmios once more.
Once again, Helmios was unable to read much of the text. The number “3” and the words “Healing Rain” were all he could make out. What in the world? But Heal and Healing Rain sound similar. Maybe it’s some kind of spell that can treat others.
“My pain is gone...and my wounds are healed...” the mother murmured. She checked both arms for any scratches and let out gasps of awe. “But you’re still a child. Are you a clergyman, perhaps?”
“No, sorry,” Helmios hastily replied. “Um, can I ask what happened here?”
“Goblins,” one of the men carrying off the remnants of the hovel answered. “The father who lived here was taken away.”
“Oh no!” Helmios cried. “Then we have to go save him!”
“Forget it. The sun’ll set soon, so if you venture out now, you’ll just be walking straight into their hands.”
Helmios fell silent and gazed at the man. Meanwhile, another man glared at the four children.
“Those outfits... And the Healing Magic you used earlier... Are you kids from the Talent School?” he asked.
The men who were repairing the hole in the fence approached Helmios and the mother, crowding around them.
“We are...” Helmios replied.
“He’s not a bad child!” the mother who sat beside him exclaimed. “Look! He healed me with the same power as the clergyman from the church!”
The men immediately became less threatening and turned to the boy.
“Can you heal people with magic?” one asked.
“Yeah,” Helmios replied instantly. “If anyone else is hurt, I can heal them.”
“Really?!”
“Helmios! You can’t!” Dorothy cried. As the daughter of a clergyman, she knew the rules better than anyone. “Have you forgotten Lord Elmea’s teachings?”
The people born in this world had to overcome the Trials bestowed upon them on their own. If they wished for help from others, they had to give the helper something equal in value to the aid that they would receive. Helmios was aware of that teaching, of course, but he greatly preferred the idea of ignoring it, of treating it as a rough guideline, over ignoring all the villagers in need. Besides, if I really am in the wrong, I feel like Lord Elmea will appear in my dreams and scold me for it.
The men scattered and returned several minutes later with two or three injured people.
“Please save this kid!” a burly man begged, a girl around the same age as Helmios and his friends limp in his arms.
“His wound just won’t close...” a woman said. The man she had brought over had lost his right leg from the knee down, and his breathing was haggard as he sat nearby.
“Look at all these people!” Dorothy shouted. “Even if I help, I doubt the two of us can save more than ten people!” She had seen more people get healed more than anyone else and knew the toll it took on one’s body, but Helmios huffed proudly and confidently.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I just learned a new spell.”
“Huh? You what?”
“Do you know the spell Healing Rain?”
“I do... But can you even use it when you don’t have a Talent that would make you a clergyman?”
