Chapitre 68: Yearning

Proving Allyson's words to be true, the convoy eventually received the order to stop and set up a temporary camp around midday. The animals pulling the carriages, resembling giant oxen with three-toed hooves and shaggy hides, could roam the entire day when grazing, but when pulling carriages that weighed tens of thousands of kilograms, they needed to be allowed to rest every few hours, or they would collapse.

Since he hadn't been given any responsibilities when it came to setting up camp, Will initially provided overwatch until one of the hands in charge of his carriage, a middle-aged man with a goatee, dark brown hair fastened into a kind of top-knot, and a battle-hardened body approached to state, "Hey, kid. Just because you chose to walk all this way, that doesn't give you the right to stand around while everyone else is working."

"My party was hired to provide security, not perform chores," argued Will. "If you have a problem with that, take it up with your Raksha."

"Kaba..." spat the man, followed by him spitting on the ground near Will's feet. This was an exceptionally rude gesture, but as he hadn't been hired to beat up the caravan's people, Will rolled his eyes and allowed the man to walk away.

"Khulu vess—!"

Before he could get more than a few steps away from Will, the man who had accosted him abruptly tripped on relatively flat terrain. He managed to catch himself before he faceplanted, but his stumble garnered curious gazes from many within the convoy.

Rising with a start, the man, red in the face, made a sweeping gesture with his right hand and shouted, "Get back to work...!" in a booming voice. Then, even though Will had nothing to do with his tumble, he looked back at him with seething fury contained in his eyes.

"Walk away," said Will, his expression and tone flat as he added, "And try not to trip this time."

"Aya shyatt...!" spat the man, spitting on the ground a second time before storming off. Will vaguely recalled the phrase meaning 'northern devil,' but as he wasn't fond of bullying the weak, he shook his head and let the man leave.

'Should I trip him again...?' asked Ohta, his faint, echoing voice emanating from the shadow Will cast on the carriage.

"Nah. He's just old, bitter, and likely hates foreigners," said Will, shrugging. "We don't benefit in any way from teaching him a lesson, so just leave him be."

'If you say so...' responded Ohta, but his tone sounded unconvinced. After all, Will wasn't exactly the kind of person to allow deliberate slights to go unpunished...

...

After a roughly two-hour stop, Will was seated in the back of the number nine carriage, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and his sword between his legs. He shared the cramped space with three others, including the man who had talked down to him, but he ignored them and focused on meditating.

'It's a shame I can't just toss all these items into my Inventory...' thought Will, imagining how nice it would be to pull out a thick mattress and relax. Unfortunately, the Inventory granted to them by the System only allowed the storage of items that belonged to them. Stolen goods could be stored inside, but only if the original owner had been killed or seventy-two hours had passed since they were stolen.

"Khuva..."

Prompted by the goateed man, the person sitting next to Will, a relatively tall woman with reddish-brown skin, long brown hair that framed her face, heroic features, and an athletic body covered in tribalistic tattoos, weakly nudged him with her right elbow. When he didn't respond, the same man added, "Khudh va..." in a hushed tone.

"Mafhu bimal..." responded the woman, her distinctly husky voice carrying undertones of confusion and disproval. What followed was an exchange in their local language and dialect, but what they said didn't matter so much as what came next.

"Rhabiun..." sighed the woman, audibly exasperated. However, that didn't stop her from placing two fingers on Will's left arm, prompting him to open his eyes just as an emerald green pattern reminiscent of a scorpion faded into his flesh.

"What are you doing...?" asked Will, feigning ignorance.

"Relax, Kaba," said the goateed man, sporting a smile that failed to hide his contempt as he explained, "Our Khimaani is a skilled Sadhu. She was checking to make sure you hadn't succumbed to heat stroke after working your savdh off."

"Your name is Khimaani...?" asked Will, looking at the woman to his left. It was incredibly hot and humid in Deisceart's jungles, but she looked tense and was sweating more than usual.

"It is..." confirmed Khimaani, directing a sidelong glance at the goateed man and the carriage's final occupant, a dark-skinned youth with short, curly black hair on the top of his head and a well-maintained fade on the sides. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old but had the expression of a seasoned warrior and pale blue eyes that started to glow subtly.

"What are these men to you...?" asked Will, prompting the goateed man to interject, his expression and tone flat as he suggested, "Go back to sleep, Kaba. Lhazon is dangerous at night. You'll need to be well rested in case a dangerous monster appears..."

"Hmmm..."

Staring at the back of his left arm and then turning it over, Will converted the almost imperceptible foreign energy lurking within his Aura and Mana pathways to his own. Curses, even more so than traditional Magic Spells, carried a component of the user's will within their structure. Will could use his Dominate to subjugate this fragment of willpower, so while he couldn't change the curse's structure, it couldn't harm him, effectively allowing him to reuse it as he pleased.

Watching Will flexing the fingers of his hand open and closed, the trio in the back of the carriage became increasingly on edge, ready to react the moment he tried anything. The strongest among them, Khimaani, was only at the pinnacle of the Second Grade. B-Rank Adventurers were known to be at least Third Grade, so if a fight were to break out, they knew Will had a tremendous advantage. Even more so with one of his allies sitting in the carriage's driver's box...

'A curse that afflicts the target with disorientation and nausea...nothing too serious, but it could prove deadly if activated in the middle of combat,' noted Will, learning the curse's effects from the memories attached to the fragment of willpower. The spell's structure was beyond him, but he could feel the emotions Khimaani was experiencing when she planted it.

'Hesitation and pity...how amusing...' thought Will, a faint smile adorning his face as he raised it to meet the grim gaze of the goateed man, asking, "What's your name, Kaba?"

Frowning at the form of address, the goateed man retorted, "Our tongue is not for outsiders. And my name is Amahid, son of Khuutash al-Shamid. Who are you to ask?"

Instead of introducing himself, Will's expression hardened as he said, "Listen very closely, Amahid. The next time you try something like this or encourage someone to conspire against me, I will drag your broken body before your Raksha and demand to know why her people are disregarding her will and acting against those she has hired to protect them..."

"You will drag me before my Raksha?" questioned Amahid, scoffing as he added, "Deisceart will be your grave if you think you can say or do as you please, boy..."

"You have been warned..." responded Will, closing his eyes and seeming to return to his meditation. In actuality, he carefully sent a thin thread of Mana through the wagon's base, snaking it up through the boards behind Amahid and adding a large, scorpion-shaped mark to the many tattoos on his back. It started small, but by funneling additional Mana into it, he was able to grow the scorpion until it covered the upper half of Amahid's back. Now, the moment Khimaani activated the curse, likely at Amahid's behest, the latter would receive a rather substantial surprise...

...

As traveling at night was much too risky, the convoy was ordered to stop and make camp roughly an hour before sunset. This meant arranging the carriages in a square/box formation, completely blocking off the road but leaving a sizeable space in its center for Rasa's personal carriage, several large tents, and a bonfire.

"Alright, you lot, gather 'round!" shouted Rasa, standing atop the wooden table set up to facilitate food and ration distribution. Will didn't approve of her standing barefoot next to the food they were scheduled to eat, but he didn't say anything as he joined Aelius, Kris, and Allyson in migrating over with the rest of the convoy's members. Angil was also present, but he was one of the people standing behind Rasa on ground level, casually stealing glances at her backside.

Waiting until a sizeable crowd had formed, Rasa gave a curt nod and said, "Today was just the first step on our long journey, but we've made great progress thanks to everyone's efforts. Things will get more difficult as we press forward, but as long as everyone performs their duties well, we will reach our destination without fail. Those who perform especially well can expect ample rewards when we do."

"Raksha...!" shouted most of the crowd, pumping their right fists high over their heads. It was a simple response, but it reinforced the sentiment that Rasa was their leader.

Nodding in approval, Rasa waited for everyone to settle down and lower their fists before raising her left hand and producing a crisp snap with her middle finger and thumb. In response, several collared men and women wearing scant dancer apparel began to file out from behind her carriage, accompanied by several others carrying hand drums and other traditional instruments. What followed was a festive song and dance party, overseen by Rasa as she sat like a queen atop the distribution table...

...

With at least three people being required to guard each carriage, two to watch the supplies and the other to patrol the surroundings, Will refused Aelius's offer to hang back and relax in favor of venturing into the jungle. The canopy of the rainforest was thick, and the average tree was at least sixty meters tall, so it was surprisingly easy to move around as there was very little light and nutrients for plants to proliferate. Instead, much of the ground was covered in grass, decayed leaves, and mulchy compost.

'What are you planning...?' asked Ohta, his voice, as usual, emanating from Will's shadow.

"Nothing in particular..." responded Will, both telling the truth and lying as he had ventured into the jungle, hoping that something might occur. What he did from there ultimately depended on what that something was.

'They're not coming,' said Ohta, revealing, 'That bearded asshole went to the tent with the slaves. I don't think I need to tell you for what purpose...'

"I'm not surprised..." replied Will, raising his gaze to the rainforest canopy, resembling a nebulous mass of darkness mixed with greens, purples, and a few pink hues that obscured the sky beyond. A surprisingly large snake eyed him from the branch of a nearby tree, but its body was rounded from a recent meal, leaving it more cautious than ready to strike.

Closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose, Will reminded himself that it was perfectly normal for nothing to happen so early in a journey. Due to the existence of the System and the strangeness of his circumstances, he sometimes pondered the possibility he was the main character of a novel or trapped in some advanced simulation. Unfortunately, there was nothing like plot armor to protect him, so while he was tempted to lure Amahid out to settle things, he spent a few hours patrolling before swapping positions with Aelius back at the carriage...

...