Poor Noble Nord’s Adventure

45. Anomaly

By the time Nord and the village hunter, Roji, entered Alba Forest, the sun had already passed its zenith and begun its descent to the west.

“Alright, let’s split up and start hunting right away. I’ll be counting on you, boss… Boss?”

“…Huh? Oh, yeah, let’s do that.”

At the forest entrance, Roji reminded Nord of their prearranged plan to divide their hunting areas.

However, while Roji spoke, Nord stood motionless, gazing intently into the forest.

“Boss, is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, it’s not that, but…”

Noticing Nord’s behavior, Roji, who had been ready to head off with his bow in hand, approached him.

Nord, still scanning their surroundings, voiced the impression that had been bothering him.

“Something… feels off about this forest.”

“Off… you say?”

Hearing Nord’s words, Roji too began observing the forest.

But under the crimson sky, the rustling leaves of Alba Forest, stirred by the wind, seemed no different from usual to Roji.

At most, the wind was stronger than usual, making it noisier. But strong winds were common this time of year—hardly enough to feel “off.”

“I don’t sense anything strange. It’s the same forest as always.”

“…”

Roji tilted his head as he responded, but Nord remained unconvinced.

Something was nagging at him, yet he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

(What is this feeling of unease…?)

The trees. The gouged ground. Monster remnants. A faint scent carried on the wind.

As twilight fell over the forest, Nord sharpened his senses to uncover the source of this lingering “something.”

Yet, no matter how hard he searched, he found nothing out of place in the forest.

The unease clung to him like mist, formless and elusive. The longer it lingered, the more it seemed to dissipate, leaving Nord questioning whether it was all just his imagination.

(…No good. I can’t find anything.)

Letting out a deep sigh, Nord shifted his gaze sideways.

There, he saw Newt, mimicking him by sniffing the air and scanning the surroundings while standing upright on its hind legs.

As a wyvern with keener senses than humans, perhaps Newt might detect something Nord couldn’t. Internally, Nord harbored hope.

But unfortunately, Newt also seemed unable to sense anything unusual. Losing interest, Newt retracted its neck and let out a lazy yawn.

“Did you find anything?”

“No… Sorry for wasting your time.”

As Nord remained hesitant to start hunting, Roji called out to him.

Despite the nagging sense of unease, Nord knew he couldn’t keep delaying the hunt over such a vague feeling.

“If there’s nothing wrong, that’s for the best. Let’s get hunting already—it’ll get awfully chilly once night falls.”

“…You’re right. Let’s do that.”

Following Roji into the rustling forest, Nord walked a few steps before stopping again.

As if unable to let go, he paused to survey the forest one last time. Was there no trace of any anomaly?

Yet, even then, his sharpened senses failed to detect anything unusual.

“Was it really just my imagination…?”

Though the feeling still lingered faintly, Nord found nothing. His muttered words were swallowed by a gust of wind and carried away into the forest, disappearing along with his unease.

§

A blade sliced through the air, severing the throat of a stag.

Without even a chance to cry out, the stag collapsed into the forest, lifeless.

Approaching the stag as its blood poured from its neck, Nord began the familiar process of butchering the animal.

After tying its hind legs and hanging it upside down to drain the blood, he deftly wielded his short knife, expertly carving through the body.

With smooth, practiced movements, he removed the organs, skinned the hide, and portioned the meat.

Before long, the stag was reduced to a heap of fresh crimson meat.

“Drool…”

“Hey! You already had your share earlier.”

At the sight of the meat, Newt began drooling, sniffing hungrily at the portions.

Just as it moved to sink its teeth into a piece, Nord firmly grabbed its scruff.

“Grumble…”

“No. You just ate.”

As Newt glared at him in protest, Nord sighed in exasperation.

Even though he always gave the wyvern scraps from each kill, Newt’s voracious appetite seemed insatiable.

Their back-and-forth continued as Nord placed the butchered meat into sacks.

“Evening already. Time sure flies.”

Having finished butchering the meat, Nord shouldered a sack and muttered to himself.

Hearing him, Newt, who had been gnawing on a deer liver, raised its head. Its eyes reflected the crimson-tinted sky.

It had been several hours since they entered the forest.

In that time, Nord had hunted four stags, all of which he had butchered. The processed meat was ample—enough to make Nord’s burden noticeably heavy.

What to do next?

Nord considered his options.

The amount of meat Johan requested was nearly met with this latest catch. Still, he felt tempted to hunt just a little more.

However, night was approaching, and hunting after dark would only increase the difficulty. He preferred to avoid it.

In that case, it might be best to return to the forest entrance and regroup with Roji.

Decision made, Nord began retracing his steps toward the entrance.

“Back home!”

“Oh, Nord-sama!”

When Nord reached the carriage he had left at the edge of the forest, he found Roji already there. Roji was busy arranging the game he had hunted in the wagon bed, suggesting he had just returned as well.

“I just got back myself. So, how was the hunt?”

“I managed to bring down four antlered deer. They’re already bled and dressed. How about you?”

“Four! As expected of you, sir. I’m ashamed to say I only got one deer this time… How embarrassing.”

Roji gazed in admiration at the burlap sacks, swollen with meat from the four deer Nord had hunted, praising Nord’s exceptional skill. At the same time, he couldn’t hide his frustration as he compared Nord’s catch to his own.

“Don’t let it bother you. I had an excellent partner helping me out. Isn’t that right?”

“Kyuu!”

“Haha, no wonder. As much as I take pride in being a village hunter, there’s no competing with a skilled adventurer and his flying dragon.”

Responding to Nord’s comment, the dragon, Newt, puffed out its chest proudly and chirped lightly, understanding it was being praised. Seeing this, Roji chuckled heartily before adding, “Still,” in a more serious tone.

“It’s not just sour grapes, but if my traps had worked, I might have brought back a bit more.”

“Your traps didn’t catch anything?”

“No, not a thing. Normally, I’d catch a few plump foxes, raccoons, or hares, but for some reason, they were all empty today.”

Even though Nord’s haul overshadowed his, Roji’s skills were undeniable; he’d managed to take down a deer in less than half a day. As a seasoned village hunter, he’d honed his craft over many years. Yet even for an experienced hunter like Roji, encountering game often came down to luck.

Particularly after rain, when tracks and droppings were washed away, tracking became much harder. Hunters often relied on traps for more consistent results, and Roji was no exception.

Trap hunting requires not only well-designed mechanisms but, more importantly, proper placement. A hunter must understand the habits of their quarry and identify their feeding or watering spots to predict their paths. Despite its apparent simplicity, setting effective traps demands skill, and Roji, familiar with the Alba Forest, had a keen understanding of the local wildlife.

That none of his traps caught anything suggested extraordinarily bad luck. At least, that was Nord’s assessment.

“Tough break. Well, some days are like that.”

“Exactly. Forest spirits can be so fickle. I even thought about going after birds, but wouldn’t you know it, I didn’t see a single one today either.”

“Birds, huh? Now that you mention it, I don’t recall seeing many myself.”

As Nord loaded the burlap sacks onto the wagon bed, he reflected on the forest. Focused as he was on hunting mid-sized game like the antlered deer, he hadn’t paid attention to birds. Yet now he realized he hadn’t seen much trace of small animals like hares either.

Though autumn was well advanced, it was far too early for snow to blanket the ground. Smaller creatures wouldn’t retreat into burrows for hibernation until much later in the season.

A faint unease, one he’d pushed aside earlier, began creeping back into Nord’s thoughts.

“Thanks to you, though, we’ve got enough meat. Tomorrow’s festival should be well-stocked.”

“…Roji, did anything else strike you as odd in the forest today?”

“Huh? Odd? Oh, you mean that ‘off’ feeling you mentioned earlier?”

“Exactly. Anything at all.”

“Well…”

Relieved they’d secured enough meat, Roji’s tone grew serious as Nord addressed him with a sudden shift in demeanor.

“I guess it was a bit strange that there weren’t many small animals around… and the wind was strong. It kept roaring through the leaves, so loud I could barely hear the sounds of the forest. Honestly, I was lucky to bag that deer despite all the noise.”

“The wind, huh?”

As Roji spoke of nearly leaving empty-handed, Nord caught onto something in his words. He repeated it to himself under his breath, feeling he was onto something.

“Shall we head back? The lord must be eagerly waiting for this—whoa!”

“Neighhh!”

Just then, a powerful gust of wind howled through the forest. The trees shook violently, branches groaning under the strain, and the tarp on the wagon flapped wildly as the carriage swayed side to side.

Startled by the noise, the horse reared up with a loud whinny.

“Easy, easy… It’s just the wind.”

“That was intense… Oh, but look, the wind’s died down now.”

Roji hurried to calm the horse, grabbing its reins and stroking its neck.

“Talk about timing, huh? The wind’s completely stopped.”

As suddenly as it had come, the gust subsided. The trees’ canopies swayed gently for a moment before coming to rest, and the rustling of leaves ceased entirely. The forest fell silent, unnervingly so, as though the wind had swept away all sound with it.

“It’s so quiet…”

Roji’s remark was startlingly clear in the stillness. The silence was so profound it seemed even the smallest sounds—breathing, footsteps, the rustle of clothing—became amplified.

“…What is this?”

“Something wrong?”

Nord’s realization hit him like a bolt.

“The sound… there’s no sound.”

“Well, the wind’s stopped, so—”

“No, not just the wind. There’s nothing. No birds, no insects. Nothing.”

“Wait, you’re right… That’s odd.”

Roji scanned the forest, suddenly aware of the unnatural quiet.

“Is Alba Forest always like this this time of year?”

“Of course not! It’s usually buzzing with autumn insects. The only time it’s this quiet is in the dead of winter, when snow blankets everything.”

Frustrated with himself, Nord clicked his tongue. The unease he’d felt entering the forest now made sense. It wasn’t that something strange had intruded on the familiar scenery, but that something essential was missing.

“How eerie…”

“…”

Roji’s murmured observation captured the oppressive unease. The forest, once familiar and safe, now felt like an alien, foreboding place hiding unseen dangers.

(The sun’s about to set…)

Bathed in the deep crimson of the setting sun, the Alba Forest glowed as though soaked in blood.