“Wait a minute, stop.”
“But why, Sir Erne?”
“Are there eight of us now?”
Erne looked around. The hazy fog had become so thick that he could only see the face of the person standing right in front of him.
He was inwardly perplexed. Even though he had been paying close attention to his ears, how could he not have noticed until the fog became this thick?
Judging from his expression, it seemed that Mark, the leader of the advance party, also realized the density of the fog belatedly.
“This isn’t an ordinary fog. Everyone, stop. I’m going to do a headcount. Everyone, gather around me.”
One by one, they gathered around hearing Mark's voice.
“Sir Erne is here, Sir Ian, Owen, Huxley, Tristan.”
“Yes, Tristan is here.”
Every time Captain Mark called a name, there was a response from the owner of the name.
“Maxim.”
“Maxim, answer me.”
But there was no answer from Maxim, a security guard. The advance party looked left and right to find Maxim, but he was nowhere to be found.
“I can’t even see Roel.”
“What? Roel, Roel, if you’re nearby, answer me, Roel!”
Mark called out quite loudly, but Roel didn't answer either. This left only six of the eight advance party members left.
“The fog is getting thicker.”
Even as they talked, the fog thickened their vision.
“The sound of the carriage of the Chief is now barely audible.”
Everyone strained their ears to hear Erne's words, trying to catch the sound of the carriage, and then blurted out harsh words like "Damn it" and "Fuck it".
“We are getting out of the fog for now.”
Mark said. Erne agreed with the opinion and took out the compass he had kept in his pocket.
"...This."
A sigh escaped Erne.
“Why are you doing this, Sir Erne?”
“Everyone, check your compasses.”
At Erne's words, everyone took out their compasses. Sighs came out from here and there.
“The compass is dead.”
The needle kept spinning around and around. His head felt like it was spinning too.
Before they gathered around Mark, he thought he knew which direction he was going, but once he turned, he had no idea where he was going.
“This is no ordinary fog.”
“Yes, so now you have to come to your senses. I guess you get confused when you walk in the fog.”
While Mark was pondering for a moment, Erne clapped his hands.
“First, decide on a direction and go out.”
Anyway, they don't know where they are. So, it wouldn't be a bad idea to just go straight.
Fortunately, everyone had plenty of energy left, and the forest wasn't deep.
If you keep walking, you will definitely reach the end of the forest or the end of the fog. For now, the only way is to believe in that possibility.
“Yes, everyone, follow where I’m going.”
"Yes."
Mark started first, and the others followed closely behind him. After walking a few steps, someone let out a short scream.
“What's going on?”
“I don’t know. Who fell?”
“I’m fine. Are you okay, Sir Ian?”
There was no answer to the last question.
“Sir Ian, Sir Ian?”
“Damn it, Sir Ian, where are you? Answer me!”
But no answer came.
Erne also muttered a curse. He was checking to see if he was following him well by the sound of his footsteps, but he disappeared in an instant.
“This won’t work. From now on, let’s hold hands.”
Erne bit his lip at Mark's suggestion. He doesn't have a hobby of holding hands with men, but Judith's hand is different. It's soft and fluffy, and it's fun to hold and play with... There's something about it!
Erne gritted his teeth and shook his head. Is this the time to think about that? Is this some trick of the damn fog?
In this time of crisis and urgency, why does Judith's hand come to mind? Could it be the cheek that was secretly kissed and splashed?
“What are you talking about, you crazy bastard?”
It was even more unthinkable. Erne wanted to give himself a bowl of curses but now was not the time.
Anyway, instead of Judith's slender hand, he grabbed Mark's rough hand.
The advance party was divided into five in an instant.
“...Huh? Tristan isn’t here.”
"What?"
There were four.
Now there was an odd silence between the four of them. Things were going much more difficult than they had thought.
“Everyone, come to your senses.”
The four men regained their senses. It was unfortunate for their missing comrades, but now was not the time to search for them. They would have to find them after they had escaped the fog and joined up with the rearguard.
Erne, who held Mark's hand with his left, took out his dagger with his right and held it, marking every tree he came across. He drew an X at a height where his shoulder and hand were in a straight line.
It was because they might go around in circles. Fortunately, however, Erne did not encounter the tree he had marked.
“It looks like things are going well.”
I don't know where I'm going, east, west, south, or north, but I'm moving forward. But I brought you good news, so why aren't there any replies?
“Hey, Sir Mark, we’re going well...”
Erne, who was absentmindedly grabbing Mark's hand, couldn't finish his words.
“Fuck.”
Clearly, in his grasp, where he had been holding Mark until just before, was only a dry branch.
“Fucking fog.”
Erne kicked the tree in front of him hard. The tree shook and dry leaves fell in a shower.
Erne lost his sense of direction as he searched around for the mark he was holding.
He had absolutely no idea which way he was going. But that didn't mean he could just sit still.
Erne moved forward, checking if there was a sign on the tree. Then, when his temper suddenly flared, he kicked the tree.
"Ha."
He sighed and wiped his face with his palm, then stopped. He had come to catch the priest with great interest but was caught in the fog and could not go anywhere.
Erne had no idea where he was going or how much time had passed. If he were stuck in the fog like this and never got out, he would be listed as missing.
If Judith heard that story, she might come looking for him. No, she would definitely do that, given her reckless nature. She shouldn't have done that.
No, wait, why do you think of Judith all of a sudden? Is it because of the wicked fog? Erne's eyebrows, which had been furrowing his face, twitched slightly.
“...?”
He closed his eyes and stood still, and he could hear the crickets, birds flying, and tree branches rustling in the wind.
These were sounds that he couldn't hear when he was wandering around in the thick fog. But when Erne opened his eyes and moved even a little, all his sensitive senses became useless.
“That's right.”
It seemed to be a method of trapping one in this fog by obscuring one's vision. If so, the solution was simple. Just close your eyes.
Erne, with his eyes closed, heard the faint sound of a horse squawking. It was a sound heard only briefly and from afar, but Erne was able to determine the target with his animal-like instincts.
Erne picked up a long branch from the ground, closed his eyes, and began to move forward using the branch as a cane.
He fell down and got scratched by tree branches, but he never opened his eyes.
How far did they go? At a moment when the air felt refreshing, Erne slowly opened his eyes to the sunlight pouring down on his closed eyelids.
“...”
The bright sunlight was shining all around. The thick fog seemed to have never existed, and the sparse forest, the abandoned village, and the two-story wooden house were clearly visible.
Came out. That, from the foggy hell.
Meanwhile, Judith, who heard the news of Erne's disappearance, was anxious and uneasy and couldn't get anything done.
“The advance party discovered an abandoned village, and as they entered the village, they fired a first wave of messengers at the rear party.”
According to Cain's urgent explanation, the second contingent set out for the abandoned village as soon as they received the messenger.
It was a place that took two days to get there by walking with your luggage, but if you rode a horse, you could get there in a little less than half a day.
The last unit to arrive rescued a soldier named Maxim, who was seriously injured and on the verge of death from dehydration.
“He said that he went into the forest and at one point the fog rolled in so he couldn’t see ahead and couldn’t see his colleagues either.”
Maxim is said to have wandered in the fog for a full seven hours. He has no idea how he got hurt or how he got out of the fog.
He could only vaguely guess that it was thanks to getting lost at the entrance to the forest that he was able to get out.
The second contingent entered the forest to find another advance party, but they were quickly forced to retreat by the fog that blocked their path.
Then he sent a messenger to Cain to request support and report the situation.
“Why is the fog popping out here?”
Judith clutched her head as she listened to Cain's words, who had come to tell her that she was worried.
The fog, Judith knew the fog.
Fog that causes loss of direction.
She had seen it in the original. It was explained in a line from the female protagonist, so she had completely forgotten about it.
Moreover, in the original work, the fog was not used to hide a hiding place but to trap and hunt enemies, which was unexpected.
“There was a way out of the fog, but what was it?”
You've got to think, Judith Harrington!
Judith grabbed her head and slapped her knee.
“Beast. It’s a beast.”
“But why, Sir Erne?”
“Are there eight of us now?”
Erne looked around. The hazy fog had become so thick that he could only see the face of the person standing right in front of him.
He was inwardly perplexed. Even though he had been paying close attention to his ears, how could he not have noticed until the fog became this thick?
Judging from his expression, it seemed that Mark, the leader of the advance party, also realized the density of the fog belatedly.
“This isn’t an ordinary fog. Everyone, stop. I’m going to do a headcount. Everyone, gather around me.”
One by one, they gathered around hearing Mark's voice.
“Sir Erne is here, Sir Ian, Owen, Huxley, Tristan.”
“Yes, Tristan is here.”
Every time Captain Mark called a name, there was a response from the owner of the name.
“Maxim.”
“Maxim, answer me.”
But there was no answer from Maxim, a security guard. The advance party looked left and right to find Maxim, but he was nowhere to be found.
“I can’t even see Roel.”
“What? Roel, Roel, if you’re nearby, answer me, Roel!”
Mark called out quite loudly, but Roel didn't answer either. This left only six of the eight advance party members left.
“The fog is getting thicker.”
Even as they talked, the fog thickened their vision.
“The sound of the carriage of the Chief is now barely audible.”
Everyone strained their ears to hear Erne's words, trying to catch the sound of the carriage, and then blurted out harsh words like "Damn it" and "Fuck it".
“We are getting out of the fog for now.”
Mark said. Erne agreed with the opinion and took out the compass he had kept in his pocket.
"...This."
A sigh escaped Erne.
“Why are you doing this, Sir Erne?”
“Everyone, check your compasses.”
At Erne's words, everyone took out their compasses. Sighs came out from here and there.
“The compass is dead.”
The needle kept spinning around and around. His head felt like it was spinning too.
Before they gathered around Mark, he thought he knew which direction he was going, but once he turned, he had no idea where he was going.
“This is no ordinary fog.”
“Yes, so now you have to come to your senses. I guess you get confused when you walk in the fog.”
While Mark was pondering for a moment, Erne clapped his hands.
“First, decide on a direction and go out.”
Anyway, they don't know where they are. So, it wouldn't be a bad idea to just go straight.
Fortunately, everyone had plenty of energy left, and the forest wasn't deep.
If you keep walking, you will definitely reach the end of the forest or the end of the fog. For now, the only way is to believe in that possibility.
“Yes, everyone, follow where I’m going.”
"Yes."
Mark started first, and the others followed closely behind him. After walking a few steps, someone let out a short scream.
“What's going on?”
“I don’t know. Who fell?”
“I’m fine. Are you okay, Sir Ian?”
There was no answer to the last question.
“Sir Ian, Sir Ian?”
“Damn it, Sir Ian, where are you? Answer me!”
But no answer came.
Erne also muttered a curse. He was checking to see if he was following him well by the sound of his footsteps, but he disappeared in an instant.
“This won’t work. From now on, let’s hold hands.”
Erne bit his lip at Mark's suggestion. He doesn't have a hobby of holding hands with men, but Judith's hand is different. It's soft and fluffy, and it's fun to hold and play with... There's something about it!
Erne gritted his teeth and shook his head. Is this the time to think about that? Is this some trick of the damn fog?
In this time of crisis and urgency, why does Judith's hand come to mind? Could it be the cheek that was secretly kissed and splashed?
“What are you talking about, you crazy bastard?”
It was even more unthinkable. Erne wanted to give himself a bowl of curses but now was not the time.
Anyway, instead of Judith's slender hand, he grabbed Mark's rough hand.
The advance party was divided into five in an instant.
“...Huh? Tristan isn’t here.”
"What?"
There were four.
Now there was an odd silence between the four of them. Things were going much more difficult than they had thought.
“Everyone, come to your senses.”
The four men regained their senses. It was unfortunate for their missing comrades, but now was not the time to search for them. They would have to find them after they had escaped the fog and joined up with the rearguard.
Erne, who held Mark's hand with his left, took out his dagger with his right and held it, marking every tree he came across. He drew an X at a height where his shoulder and hand were in a straight line.
It was because they might go around in circles. Fortunately, however, Erne did not encounter the tree he had marked.
“It looks like things are going well.”
I don't know where I'm going, east, west, south, or north, but I'm moving forward. But I brought you good news, so why aren't there any replies?
“Hey, Sir Mark, we’re going well...”
Erne, who was absentmindedly grabbing Mark's hand, couldn't finish his words.
“Fuck.”
Clearly, in his grasp, where he had been holding Mark until just before, was only a dry branch.
***
“Fucking fog.”
Erne kicked the tree in front of him hard. The tree shook and dry leaves fell in a shower.
Erne lost his sense of direction as he searched around for the mark he was holding.
He had absolutely no idea which way he was going. But that didn't mean he could just sit still.
Erne moved forward, checking if there was a sign on the tree. Then, when his temper suddenly flared, he kicked the tree.
"Ha."
He sighed and wiped his face with his palm, then stopped. He had come to catch the priest with great interest but was caught in the fog and could not go anywhere.
Erne had no idea where he was going or how much time had passed. If he were stuck in the fog like this and never got out, he would be listed as missing.
If Judith heard that story, she might come looking for him. No, she would definitely do that, given her reckless nature. She shouldn't have done that.
No, wait, why do you think of Judith all of a sudden? Is it because of the wicked fog? Erne's eyebrows, which had been furrowing his face, twitched slightly.
“...?”
He closed his eyes and stood still, and he could hear the crickets, birds flying, and tree branches rustling in the wind.
These were sounds that he couldn't hear when he was wandering around in the thick fog. But when Erne opened his eyes and moved even a little, all his sensitive senses became useless.
“That's right.”
It seemed to be a method of trapping one in this fog by obscuring one's vision. If so, the solution was simple. Just close your eyes.
Erne, with his eyes closed, heard the faint sound of a horse squawking. It was a sound heard only briefly and from afar, but Erne was able to determine the target with his animal-like instincts.
Erne picked up a long branch from the ground, closed his eyes, and began to move forward using the branch as a cane.
He fell down and got scratched by tree branches, but he never opened his eyes.
How far did they go? At a moment when the air felt refreshing, Erne slowly opened his eyes to the sunlight pouring down on his closed eyelids.
“...”
The bright sunlight was shining all around. The thick fog seemed to have never existed, and the sparse forest, the abandoned village, and the two-story wooden house were clearly visible.
Came out. That, from the foggy hell.
***
Meanwhile, Judith, who heard the news of Erne's disappearance, was anxious and uneasy and couldn't get anything done.
“The advance party discovered an abandoned village, and as they entered the village, they fired a first wave of messengers at the rear party.”
According to Cain's urgent explanation, the second contingent set out for the abandoned village as soon as they received the messenger.
It was a place that took two days to get there by walking with your luggage, but if you rode a horse, you could get there in a little less than half a day.
The last unit to arrive rescued a soldier named Maxim, who was seriously injured and on the verge of death from dehydration.
“He said that he went into the forest and at one point the fog rolled in so he couldn’t see ahead and couldn’t see his colleagues either.”
Maxim is said to have wandered in the fog for a full seven hours. He has no idea how he got hurt or how he got out of the fog.
He could only vaguely guess that it was thanks to getting lost at the entrance to the forest that he was able to get out.
The second contingent entered the forest to find another advance party, but they were quickly forced to retreat by the fog that blocked their path.
Then he sent a messenger to Cain to request support and report the situation.
“Why is the fog popping out here?”
Judith clutched her head as she listened to Cain's words, who had come to tell her that she was worried.
The fog, Judith knew the fog.
Fog that causes loss of direction.
She had seen it in the original. It was explained in a line from the female protagonist, so she had completely forgotten about it.
Moreover, in the original work, the fog was not used to hide a hiding place but to trap and hunt enemies, which was unexpected.
“There was a way out of the fog, but what was it?”
You've got to think, Judith Harrington!
Judith grabbed her head and slapped her knee.
“Beast. It’s a beast.”
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