Chapter 110: Blood Bug [Bonus]
Brant came out of the leader’s tent with Lysa supporting one arm and an older mercenary supporting the other. His face was still pale, and his legs shook under him, but his eyes were awake now. That made a large difference. Before, the camp had been waiting for a dying man to stop breathing. Now the dying man had returned just enough to give orders.
Lysa looked at Lucard with worry. "He cannot ride for long."
Lucard looked at Brant’s breathing. "He can ride enough."
"You said he would live."
"I did not say he would enjoy it."
Lysa’s anger rose, but Brant raised one hand before she could speak.
"He is right," Brant said. "The cave is not far by horse if we use the ridge path. We will reach it by night if we do not stop too much."
Lysa frowned. "Father, you should rest first."
Brant looked at her. "Rest comes after danger is counted."
Lucard looked at the old man with slightly more approval.
The camp leader understood survival. That did not make him trustworthy, but it made him less irritating.
They left the camp before the full morning had passed.
Brant rode in front on a dark horse, though two mercenaries stayed close enough to catch him if his body failed. Lysa rode beside him. Lucard rode behind them on a plain brown horse that did not like him. The horse kept trying to slow down whenever Lucard touched the reins, as if it sensed that the person on its back was not a normal old doctor and wanted no part in his business.
Lucard did not care.
A small group of six loyal Ash Wolf mercenaries followed them. Brant had chosen older men who had served him for years. None of Merrick’s men came. Those who had not been killed were bound inside the camp until Brant returned and decided their punishment. Lysa had wanted to question them herself, but Brant told her that grief should not hold a knife before judgment. Lucard said nothing at that. He disagreed, but it was not his company.
The road toward the eastern ridge was rough.
It left the main forest path after two hours and moved through dry hills where short trees grew between stones. The ground became harder. Old beast tracks crossed the path. Once, they passed a broken shrine with no statue inside it. Another time, they rode along a narrow ledge where the wind pushed dust against their faces and the horses placed each hoof carefully.
Brant coughed several times during the journey.
No blood came out.
Each time that happened, Lysa looked relieved and frightened at once. She had spent two months watching blood stain cloth after cloth. Now the coughing sounded normal, but she did not trust normal yet.
Lucard watched Brant from behind.
The man’s blood flow had improved, but his body was still damaged. The parasite had been feeding from inside him for too long. Another weak healer might have saved his life and still left him crippled for months. Lucard had pulled out most of the danger, but healing him fully would take more time, food, rest, and perhaps some controlled blood strengthening later.
If Ash Wolf became useful to Jenny and Jake, then Brant’s strength would matter.
For now, Lucard cared more about the cave.
The small blood-covered thing he had taken from Brant was wrapped inside a cloth and hidden in his inner pocket. It was dead, but it still gave off a faint signal. Normal mages would not feel it. A blood mage might feel something strange. Lucard felt it clearly. The thing was not complete by itself. It had belonged to something larger. It had been a child, a tool, or a feeding thread.
Every hour they moved closer to the ridge, the dead thing in his pocket felt less dead.
Not alive.
But connected.
That meant the cave still held something.
By evening, the sky turned red over the hills.
Brant raised his hand and pointed toward a dark line between two stone slopes.
"There."
Lysa looked ahead. "That is the cave?"
"Yes."
The entrance was not large. From far away, it looked like a shadow under a broken rock wall. Dry grass grew around it, and several loose stones had fallen near the opening. If someone did not know where to look, he might pass by without thinking anything important was there.
Lucard dismounted before the others.
The moment his boots touched the ground, he felt it.
A faint pull.
It was not strong. It was not wide. It did not spread like a normal curse or monster aura. It was thin and patient, like a thread waiting inside blood. His mana sense brushed against the entrance, and something deep inside the cave answered for half a breath.
Lucard’s eyes became cold.
This was not a simple sick cave.
Brant slowly came down from his horse with help. "When we found it, the entrance was partly blocked. One of my men thought there might be old coins or weapons inside. We opened enough to enter."
Lucard looked at the stones around the entrance. "How deep did you go?"
"Not far. The air was bad. There were old bones in the first chamber, but mercenaries see bones often. We thought the place had been a hiding hole or old burial cave."
"And after that?"
Brant’s face darkened. "One man heard scratching inside the wall. Another said he saw red light moving. I did not see it. I only felt tired. We left before sunset. The sickness started the next morning."
Lysa looked at Lucard. "Can we wait now and bring more men tomorrow?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because tomorrow may belong to someone else."
She did not understand, but Brant did. His eyes moved to the cave, then to Lucard’s hidden pocket.
"You think something inside is alive."
Lucard did not answer that directly.
He looked at Brant and Lysa. "Both of you leave."
Lysa’s eyes widened. "Leave?"
"Yes."