Pioneer Corps.
After Departure.
With a heavy pack slung over his shoulders, Woojin stepped out of the cabin. After the unexpected wolf hunt, he was leaving later than planned.
"Are you sure you'll be all right if I go? You still don't look fully recovered."
"No need to worry. I may be washed up, but I won't die out here."
Hector, who had come out to see him off, answered firmly. With that tone, there was no reason to press further.
"Then I'll see you beyond the Barrier."
"Take care."
With that brief farewell, Woojin turned toward the shadowed forest.
Today, his pack felt unusually heavy. Hector had stuffed it with various supplies, and the werewolf's hide was rolled up like a bedroll and tied on top.
Yet his steps felt lighter than ever.
Unlike before, when he had wandered aimlessly, Woojin now had a clear destination.
He took out the map Hector had given him. Scattered across it were small and large settlements.
Villages of the Pioneer Corps.
Not all of humanity lived safely under the Barrier's protection. Many sought to reclaim the lands swallowed by the demonic realm. These people were commonly called the Pioneer Corps.
Woojin had chosen one such village as his next destination.
It'll take some time to get there.
On foot, it would take about two days. Woojin had no intention of strolling leisurely.
Better pick up the pace.
His stride quickened—almost a run. He kept it steady, mindful not to exhaust himself midway.
After running for quite some time—
As the setting sun stained the clouds a faint crimson, a village finally came into view in the distance.
Woojin couldn't help but admire it.
Wow… they even built a wooden palisade?
A sturdy wooden wall surrounded the village—clearly a defense against demonic beasts.
The tall barricade obscured the interior, but smoke from cooking fires rose within, making it obvious that people lived there.
Woojin approached the gate. Two men standing guard fixed their eyes on him.
"Stop right there."
The gatekeepers leveled their spears.
Woojin complied without hesitation.
"Affiliation and purpose of visit?"
"No affiliation. I'm just looking to spend the night."
"If you're not a member of the Pioneer Corps, there's an entry fee. One silver coin per person."
Woojin fished out two half-silver coins. A half-coin was simply a smaller denomination piece.
After taking the payment, the guards stepped aside.
"Don't cause trouble inside."
Woojin gave a casual nod and entered the village.
The sight that greeted him…
Well, it wasn't particularly dramatic.
Most of the buildings looked shabby—old, damaged structures with newly replaced roofs.
It was only natural. Who would build grand mansions in a barren frontier like this?
Still, laughter echoed here and there.
The very presence of vitality was remarkable.
First, I'll handle what Hector asked.
Before leaving the cabin, Hector had entrusted him with a task.
Woojin walked while scanning his surroundings. He headed toward the place from which the loudest laughter flowed.
Naturally, it was the tavern.
He had been told there was only one tavern in the village.
All facilities and shops were directly operated by the Pioneer Corps. Among them, the tavern was managed with particular strictness.
The reason was simple—drunken fools caused more than enough trouble.
A sharp scent of alcohol greeted him at the entrance.
Stepping inside, Woojin glanced over the faces present.
Jacob the peddler.
The man he needed to find.
Jacob had regularly traded with Hector.
The distance between Hector's cabin and the village was considerable. It would be inconvenient to come here every time he needed supplies.
So Hector frequently commissioned the peddler to deliver goods, paying with demonic beast hides.
But the werewolf was dead.
With his revenge complete, Hector no longer needed to continue such trade. Woojin had come to relay that message.
He was told Jacob liked his drink. Odds are he'd be here.
Even if not, someone might at least know where to find him.
Woojin casually scanned the tables, as though searching for a companion.
Then his gaze stopped.
A middle-aged man with thinning hair. A long diagonal scar ran across one cheek. He had grown a beard, perhaps to conceal it, but it remained noticeable.
That must be him.
The description matched Hector's.
Woojin approached.
"Are you Jacob, by any chance?"
"That is my name… and you are?"
Jacob looked slightly wary. The men seated at his table also eyed Woojin cautiously.
A stranger approaching out of nowhere would unsettle anyone.
Woojin spoke plainly.
"I came to deliver a message from Hector."
"Ah! Then I must apologize. I didn't realize you were acquainted with Elder Hector."
The mood shifted instantly at the mention of Hector's name.
Taking advantage of it, Woojin continued calmly.
"Hector says the hunt is over, so he won't be ordering supplies anymore. He asked me to pass along his thanks for the fair dealings."
"Wait—over? You mean…"
Jacob trailed off mid-sentence.
His eyes drifted to the hide strapped to Woojin's pack.
It was far too large and thick to belong to an ordinary wolf.
The quick-witted merchant seemed to grasp its identity. Aware of the listening ears around him, Jacob leaned closer and whispered barely audibly.
"…So that old man Hector really hunted the werewolf. Impressive. But why entrust something like this to you?"
"It just… worked out that way. Hard to explain in detail."
Woojin answered vaguely. There was no need to recount everything to someone he had just met.
Honestly, it felt like a hassle.
Perhaps sensing that, Jacob didn't press the question again. Instead, he offered a piece of advice.
"It's a valuable item. Keep it safe. Plenty of people would covet it."
With that, Jacob turned back to his companions and resumed his conversation, as if neatly cutting off further interest.
Good. He's not the clingy type.
His errand complete, there was no reason to linger. Woojin stepped out of the tavern.
Now what?
He had found Jacob sooner than expected and finished his business quickly, leaving him with unexpected spare time.
Scratching his chin, Woojin wandered idly through the village.
Then, from afar, a commotion rose.
"The quarry workers are back!"
Someone shouted. In response, people began hurrying toward the village entrance.
With nothing better to do, Woojin followed.
From the distant hillside, a group of people approached the village.
Strangely, they were walking alongside two massive demonic beasts.
Six-legged lizards.
They were larger than oxen, with broad backs like turtles. Large baskets were strapped onto their backs.
So that's a Tarasque.
Tarasque.
One of the few demonic beasts successfully domesticated by humanity. Despite their immense size, they preferred a herbivorous diet.
First time seeing one in person.
According to the Demonic Realm Journal, Tarasques had been tamed to replace horses.
Horses, it turned out, were more delicate than expected. Picky eaters, emotional, prone to injury. They simply couldn't adapt to the harsh environment of the demonic realm and died off quickly.
Observing this, the Church Alliance had concluded that taming demonic beasts would be easier than forcing ordinary horses to adapt.
Today, the Tarasque stood as proof of that decision.
Rumble—
One Tarasque entered the village and flopped heavily onto its side. The basket on its back tipped over, spilling its contents onto the ground.
Fragments of crimson stone rolled out in clusters, like shattered chunks of red rock.
As if waiting for this moment, villagers rushed forward with shovels.
"Damn it, thought I could rest for a bit. Looks like there's a mountain of work again."
"Bring the cart!"
Men shoveled the red stones and hauled them away.
Watching, Woojin picked up one of the scattered fragments at his feet.
Bloodstone.
A special mineral found only in the demonic realm. Always in short supply due to high demand. The Pioneer Corps earned substantial profits mining it.
Money. Not bad.
Noble ideals alone couldn't sustain an organization. The Pioneer Corps existed because risk came with reward.
Many ventured into the demonic realm chasing dreams of striking it rich.
But what was the point of amassing fortune if you died before spending it?
That had been Woojin's mistake in his previous life.
…This time, I won't repeat it.
Reaffirming his resolve, he tossed the Bloodstone in his hand. It arced neatly through the air and landed squarely inside a wagon.
—
The next day, at dawn.
As usual, Woojin rose early and stepped outside the village. Starting today, he planned to head straight toward the city by the shortest route.
Better eat first.
He rummaged through his pack and pulled out some jerky.
He had bought plenty of preserved food in the village. At least he wouldn't starve anytime soon.
As he chewed thoughtfully—
…What's that?
He turned his head and muttered in surprise.
A red-furred wolf lay sprawled on the ground, yawning lazily.
The same one from before.
This bastard… has it been following me the whole time?
Why?
Woojin blinked repeatedly, baffled. It was a situation he'd never experienced before.
The wolf, on the other hand, stared fixedly at one thing.
His jerky.
Realizing this, Woojin snorted.
Bold little thing.
"Hey. You don't get to beg for food. Remember what you did last time?"
This was the one that had spat out the food he'd generously shared.
Still holding a grudge, Woojin teasingly waved the jerky in his hand.
"You want it?"
As he was about to continue with "Not a chance,"—
The wolf nodded.
Woojin froze mid-sentence.
…No way it just understood me.
The timing was far too perfect to dismiss as coincidence.