Kaisel had already figured out that Hans was the talkative type. Still, he found himself listening more closely than he expected. The topic… intrigued him.
Hans went on, voice steady as the fire crackled beside them.
"But the things written in it are apparently really interesting—especially to philosophers," he said. "There are parts that talk about the mind, about thoughts and… other things. Stuff with actual meaning."
He scratched his chin, letting out a short laugh.
"I haven't read it either, of course. Just heard about its contents. Didn't understand most of it, to be honest."
Then his expression shifted slightly, more thoughtful."But there's one line I really liked," Hans said. 'The world isn't just about magic and swords.'
He paused, as if tasting the words.
"Most people think that line's about feelings or some poetic nonsense," he continued. "But that's not what it means."
Hans gestured vaguely around them—toward the fire, the road, the distant camps.
"It's saying the world doesn't only belong to mages and knights. There are other things that matter. Other people. Other truths."
For a moment, the firelight danced across Kaisel's face as he listened in silence.
He's trying to act smart, Kaisel thought.
Before Hans could continue, another voice cut in."Of course it's not just mages and knights," the other mercenary said flatly. "There are paladins, exorcists… and filthy black magicians and devil worshippers too. And who knows what else is out there."
He snorted softly."It's common knowledge."
The man was Sergi—a mercenary with dark brown hair and a slight tan to his skin. A twin-bladed weapon rested within easy reach beside him, its presence as sharp as his tone.
Hans fell silent for a moment, rolling his eyes at Sergi before continuing anyway."I know," he said. "And that 'who knows what else' part—that's exactly what I'm talking about. Of course what you said is true too. Like the Church's paladins… and the exorcists. But the best exorcists are from the—"
"The Temple of Death," Kaisel cut in calmly.
Hans froze."Temple…?" he repeated, eyebrows lifting. "Are you a worshiper of the Goddess of Death?"
The camp went quiet.
Everyone turned to look at Kaisel.
Only then did he realize something was wrong.
"Yes," he answered simply. "I am. How did you know?"
Hans let out a small, awkward laugh."Oh… it's just that only worshipers of Death call it the Temple of Death. Everyone else calls it the Church of Death." He scratched his head."Honestly, I don't even know what the difference between those two words really is."
Most people never worshipped the Goddess of death as ' she ' represented death. Only a few worshipped the Goddess of death. Most believed in the pantheon church which consisted of multiple orthodox gods.
Hans shifted in his seat, breaking the lull.
"You know about the Four Great Dangerous Areas?" he asked.
To Sergi, it seemed Hans wasn't going to stop anytime soon, as he let out a resigned sigh.
Merlin nodded quietly, while Felix's curiosity got the better of him.
"What is it?" he asked.
Hans's brief disappointment at Merlin's nod vanished the moment Felix spoke. He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Well, let me tell you," Hans began, leaning forward slightly. "The Four Great Areas are places the continent has officially classified as highly dangerous. One of them is the Sea of Chaos. It's a sea with massive, violent waves and terrifying sea monsters lurking beneath the surface. Some parts are always shrouded in thick fog, making navigation nearly impossible. Do you know how many ships have sunk there? More than five hundred. And because of the countless lost treasures and lurking beasts, many people brave it… only to die for nothing."
"Then there's the Dunes of Gorath," Hans continued, shading his eyes from the firelight. "It's a vast desert, stretching as far as the eye can see, full of towering sand dunes. The heat there… it's intense—strong enough to cook food without fire. But when night falls, it becomes bitterly cold."
He leaned back, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Still, the real danger isn't the weather. It's what lives there. Giant scorpions, bigger than entire caravans, roam the sands. The desert tribes that live nearby call these monsters Gorath—and their venom? One of the deadliest in the world."
Hans shrugged lightly, a hint of grim humor in his voice.
"Of the Four Great Areas, it's actually the least dangerous… but I wouldn't want to be caught wandering there alone."
"The next is the Dark Forest, Ebonvale," Hans said, his voice dropping slightly. "It's massive… a forest teeming with dangerous beasts, and not just ordinary ones. Some are magical, beyond what most people can imagine. And no one really knows what else lurks inside. It's barely explored—what's in the deepest parts, nobody can say."
He paused, letting the words hang in the air before continuing.
"And then… the last one. The Forbidden Lands. Some call it the Corrupted Lands."
Kaisel's eyes flicked toward Hans.
"That place is a real mystery," Hans said, his voice dropping. "It's separated from the rest of the land by a tall wall of mist that stretches all the way to the sky. Nobody really knows what lies beyond it, but people say it's wicked—filled with monsters and corruption."
He leaned back, shaking his head.
"Most black magicians flee there. If the Church catches them, they'd be burned alive. Even the most dangerous ones, with bounties of fifty million gold, hide in that place. It's like… hell on earth."
Hans's eyes darkened.
"Some say the land was warped when an evil deity died there. That event… changed everything, though no one truly understands how. It remains one of the continent's greatest mysteries."
He exhaled slowly.
"The Empire sends people in from time to time—hunters, soldiers, explorers—to track monsters, capture black magicians or devil worshippers, and try to figure out what's really there. Most never return."
Kaisel knew that place all too well. His father had died there. They said that if someone died in that place, their soul would wander endlessly, eventually consumed by corruption. Fortunately, it was said that although his father had been gravely injured there, he had died outside its reach.
.....
Morning came again, and the caravan resumed its journey.
During every brief stop, Hans filled the air with endless chatter, assigning menial tasks and talking about this and that—mostly to Felix. Sergi, seated nearby, frequently shot him exasperated glances, clearly struggling to tolerate his constant yammering. Kaisel found himself silently observing, letting the words wash over him without much response, though he caught snippets now and then that piqued his curiosity.
The journey wasn't without danger. Occasionally, wild beasts—wolves, bears—appeared along their path. But the men at the front handled these threats expertly. Kaisel and the others at the back didn't have to lift a finger, though the tension of the forest and open roads lingered quietly, a constant reminder that the wilderness could be deadly at a moment's notice.
On several occasions, they encountered other travelers and caravans. Some were small, laden with merchants and their goods, while others were larger, guarded heavily by mercenaries like themselves. Greetings were exchanged cautiously, wary eyes scanning for threats, and sometimes news was traded—rumors of bandits, sightings of strange beasts, or warnings about difficult terrain ahead.
Wanderers crossed their path too: lone hunters, wandering mages, and peddlers with nothing but a pack on their back and a wary look in their eyes. Some offered stories of distant cities and forgotten ruins; others kept their distance, disappearing into the trees as quickly as they had appeared.
Days passed. It had been three weeks since they departed from Lowden. During that time, Merlin had made several attempts to talk with Kaisel, slowly bridging the awkwardness of their first encounter. Even Felix, who had initially tried to keep his distance, began speaking to him more often, the ice between them gradually thawing.
Kaisel noticed small habits, little quirks of the people around him—the way Sergi's patient but controlled irritation, and Hans' seemingly endless energy. Amid the chatter, the dangers, and the occasional boredom of the long road, a subtle rhythm formed in the caravan, and Kaisel found himself slowly becoming part of it, though the shadow of his thoughts about the journey ahead never left him.
To be continued.