Chapter 234 – A Half-Reunion
Tension settled over the riverbank.
As the cavalry brought their mounts to a halt, the pressure that had spread like a wave pooled into a single point. The low sounds of hooves squelching through mud and armor clinking together rumbled in the air.
Then it happened.
From the other side of the riverbank, footsteps rustled through the brush. First one. Then two, three. The numbers grew quickly.
Those on the attackers' side felt the shift as well. As if to say don't panic, the knight at the front raised his hand. But the gesture never completed. He had recognized who had emerged through the parting undergrowth.
There were only a few dozen of them. Yet the flag held by the one at the front bore a familiar image.
A mountain hare, leaping against a ridgeline backdrop.
Before its meaning could register, what caught the eye first was the attitude of those approaching. The mercenaries were unhurried. They moved with a natural sense of spacing, as if each one knew exactly where they belonged.
"……"
The soldiers of the viscount's household swallowed their breath.
They wore no heavy armor. No elaborate crests. Only worn leather and cloth, weapons broken in by long use. Yet there was not a single hesitation in their steps.
A low murmur spread through the cavalry.
"Surely not……" "No, there's no way they'd still be around……"
Knight Erandir reined in his horse and tilted his head. He watched the figure approaching from across the bank.
Broad shoulders. Closely cropped hair. And in his hand, a two-handed sword of dreadful size.
It was Volga.
He said nothing. He did not raise his weapon. He simply stepped forward and stood between the riverbank and the cavalry.
In that moment, a strange silence settled.
One of the viscount's soldiers let out a dry cough. The horses tossed their heads uneasily, and the hands gripping their reins tightened in response.
Knight Erandir glanced around briefly. He looked behind him, then turned his gaze forward again. The numerical advantage was theirs.
And yet he could not bring himself to act.
"……Knight Erandir, those are the Mountain Rabbits."
The voice was barely above a whisper.
That one sentence was enough.
Several more figures stepped forward from behind Volga. A woman with ashen skin—Zahira. An old scar was carved into her cheek. Beside her, Romance approached with sword in hand. Kotchap paced the ground a few times, checking the lay of the battlefield.
The Mountain Rabbits were not threatening.
Quite the opposite.
They were simply accustomed to standoffs like this.
At that, Knight Erandir slowly lifted his head.
"They are spies of Viscount Goral."
Volga's gaze found him. After a brief silence, a low and thick voice followed.
"So?" "……"
With that single reply, the atmosphere shifted.
The viscount's soldiers advanced no further. Instead, their horses began turning, little by little. They did not fully withdraw, but none dared press forward.
And shortly after—
The cavalry took their first step. Rather than plundering the merchants, they turned away from the riverbank with pinched expressions. It was a concession made grudgingly.
As the soldiers departed in a cloud of dust, all that remained was the heavily settled air and the trembling of the merchants.
"W-We're alive……"
The merchants bowed their heads again and again. Gratitude poured forth, and some reached into their belongings to offer items by hand. The Mountain Rabbits acknowledged the thanks with a nod but accepted neither goods nor coin.
Gajit watched the scene in silence. He had received help as well and ought to offer his own thanks, yet the one who had saved him had not yet moved.
Calix was studying his former companions one by one.
So many faces are gone.
Something must have happened—the Mountain Rabbits numbered barely a few dozen. Familiar faces from memory were scattered with gaps between them.
The stout dwarf was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the old man with the shield, nor the taciturn fellow. Yet what came first was not longing, but warmth.
A smile crept onto his lips. Even without the memories, his heart responded.
The Mountain Rabbits saw to their weapons while exchanging words.
"So Viscount Dashtang has finally shown his true greed." "He chose surviving over his honor as a noble. He must have felt he had no choice but to plunder to find food. He had his men to keep alive, after all."
At Zahira's words, Romance set down his sword and gave a brief nod. Kotchap swept a look across the riverbank before finally releasing the tension in his shoulders.
Among them, only Volga had not moved.
He still stood in the middle of the riverbank. His gaze was not on the merchants, nor on the retreating backs of the cavalry.
There was only one person.
A man standing at the far edge of the group, his robe pulled low over his face. Volga was staring at him.
"……"
Volga's eyes narrowed.
At first, he thought it was a mistake. He had no reason to be here. Volga had witnessed his death with his own eyes. And yet his gaze would not move.
The distinctive walk, the posture, and even that particular distance he kept after a fight had ended. Without realizing it, Volga took a step forward.
Zahira seemed to notice something off and glanced sideways.
"Volga?"
He took another step forward without a word. Moving through the merchants slowly but deliberately.
Only then did the robed man lift his head. Their eyes met.
In that instant, Volga's breath stopped.
"……Calix."
A voice—low, but unmistakable. As that name fell through the air, the world around them went peculiarly quiet. Calix looked at him for a moment, then tilted his head slightly to one side.
There was no reply.
That silence drove itself slowly into Volga's chest.
"……?"
At that reaction, Volga's face crumpled.
Disbelief and the desperate need to confirm collided across his expression. He stepped closer and, with a voice somewhere between certainty and pleading, asked——
"Is it really…… you?" "……" "You were alive. How in the world did you——"
Volga could not finish the sentence.
Calix was still looking at him, but there was nothing in those eyes. No joy. No surprise. No grief. Only the gaze of someone looking at a stranger.
Volga realized it, belatedly.
"……You don't know me? It's Volga. Your friend, Volga!"
The questioning look that flickered across the faces of Zahira and Romance only lasted a moment.
Their eyes shifted together toward Calix.
"……Don't tell me."
After a long silence, Romance drew a slow breath.
"That's impossible." "No, that's definitely his face……"
A small wave of unrest moved through the Mountain Rabbits.
Some rubbed their eyes as if they couldn't believe what they saw. Others said nothing and bit down hard. Calix was plainly standing before them, yet accepting that fact took time.
Then, Volga smiled—a bitter smile.
"So Yelayen was right. It was true. But the memories……" "……" "They haven't fully come back."
Calix did not answer. Instead, he studied the man in front of him closely. A face that felt both familiar and foreign. The broad frame and rough features, and the strange warmth dwelling within them, left an impression.
Then his lips parted.
"Do you know me?"
Volga stood still for a long moment before letting out a short breath.
"Come over here for now…… I have a lot to tell you."
He turned and moved toward the campfire. The merchants, reading the room, drew back to a distance. In the meantime, Calix and Gajit blended naturally into the group.
When the firelight touched his face, the veteran mercenaries confirmed his features once more.
"……It's him. It really is Calix." "Volga said he'd come back. That's why we stayed in the east all this time." "Honestly, I thought he was talking nonsense……"
The newer members who had joined after the war did not recognize him, but the core members answered by pressing their lips shut.
Calix had come back.
Volga gave them time to collect themselves before slowly opening his mouth by the fire.
"After you disappeared, we fought to survive."
His voice was even, but the brutal stretch of time it contained was unmistakable.
"The Mountain Rabbits were treated as heroes, but the reality was the opposite. We couldn't stay anywhere—we had to keep wandering. The moment you disappeared, everything disappeared with you. No land to settle on, no money to claim, no rights or authority of any kind. We were nothing more than a convenient tool for the nobles to use." "……" "So Marik made the call." "……Marik?"
At Calix's question, Volga paused.
Then, slowly, he forced a smile.
"Yeah. The man who used to be our vice-captain."
A flicker moved through his eyes.
"Marik decided he couldn't hold out any longer. He said if things kept going this way, we'd be used up and thrown aside. So he took the ones who chose to follow him and left for Elvra. With Ella there, he figured at the very least their safety was guaranteed." "Ella…… the one who makes light." "Yeah, you remember that much. She was the Mountain Rabbits' healer. Now she's the Pope of the Elvra Holy Order. Do you remember anything else?"
The answer to the question came from Gajit instead.
The man who had stayed at Calix's side since the mine relayed everything he had witnessed and felt, exactly as it had happened. The bones and flesh grown from a pit of mud, the flow of mana that had annihilated the monsters—all of it. He had kept his mouth shut until the day he stood before the legendary Mountain Rabbits, and only then did the words finally come.
Volga listened carefully, then looked back at Calix.
"I see. It makes sense that it's completely gone."
Half-hoping the memories might stir, Volga waited a little longer before continuing. Calix said nothing until the end.
So now it was time to tell the story of the Mountain Rabbits who had gone their separate ways.
"By the way, it wasn't just Marik who left. Basim went north into the mountain range with Hadiya. He said he was going to rebuild the forgotten kingdom." "……" "Adrian went back south to the island nation, Latia. True to form for a prince—he moved exactly as expected. He didn't leave much in the way of parting words."
Volga recalled his final moments with Adrian.
I go as I will. Even if that is the path destiny points toward.
He had left with only a few words. It was not a farewell full of tears.
Beyond the firelight, the expressions of the Mountain Rabbits diverged. Longing and regret crossed their faces, and through it all, the faint light of hope was just visible.
"Airien went back to the Viale Alliance. She said she had learned much and thanked us. I didn't really feel like I had taught her anything."
At the end of that, Volga's gaze returned to Calix.
"And so, everyone went the way they were meant to go. The glorious days passed, and what was left in the Mountain Rabbits were the most ordinary ones." "……" "Your friend—Volga, that is."
No one argued with those words.
Calix looked over their faces one by one. Zahira smiled gently. Romance still wore the expression of a man who couldn't quite believe it. But Kotchap was brimming with a hope that felt like something could start again.
Then Volga let out a quiet laugh and added, as though teasing——
"Ah, I forgot Gregor. Our old man went with Marik. I thought about holding him back, but living in Elvra seemed like it would be easier on his body."
And then, as if it were nothing, he added——
"It's a shame you can't meet him right away, but you could just go to Elvra, couldn't you?"
There was no need to say a word about what kind of bond Calix and Gregor shared.
Then Calix said quietly——
"And who…… is that?"
As the flames swayed, the last trace of amusement left Volga's face entirely.
His friend's memories were not whole.