Brigante Ark - Chapter 166

Strangled by his fear, Alastor didn’t move an inch. He watched the monster as it came to him, the steps are enough to tremble the ground they’re standing on. Cursing under his breath, Alastor closed his eyes.

A moment passed. He felt the monster come past beside him. Alastor waited just to make sure and when he turns back, the huge creature finally went to the other side of the forest.

Finally, he exhaled the last straw of anxiety and went the opposite way. He realized straight away that this might be different than what he had to bargain. It could be that he’s on a whole new world. That would explain why he has no idea of the monsters he encountered so far, but the possibility of new species is scratched off on his list.

His first move was to look for any signs of life, gather intel about this place, but apparently, he hasn’t seen any living being so close for him to talk. In the entire time, he only encountered monsters in

On his venture, Alastor found a ruin of a town. Alastor scoured through the remains of the town. Most of the houses are destroyed, buildings that are humming as the whining sky.

Alastor breached an old tavern. The hall is empty, only the tools of the past remained as its ghost residence. He went upstairs, checked each room, one-by-one. Most of it has already its own guests, cobwebs, and skeletons from those who live here before.

Alastor went in when he saw a foreign liquid, much different than the mammoth. It was sticky, and much less liquid than what he had seen before. The liquid itself lingers on the skeleton. He won’t dare to get near nor touch the liquid. Touching the unknown substance would only spell trouble for him, and he has no luxury for any more problems. Alastor decided to move out and to check the 3rd floor.

It was the same as before, all but the remains of those who had passed away. Alastor turns on right leaping over the broken floor.

Looking through the windows, Alastor had seen that heaven is as gloomy as this place. The clouds are so thick that even the light couldn’t even penetrate through with it.

Below, a light mist of chilled air filtered the ghost town, its ghost-like drear is unsettling as the tavern itself. The squeaky tone of the wooden floor was lone enough to make someone question whether they’re alone or not, but that wasn’t the case for Alastor. He had outgrown those kinds of lingering thoughts and trained his mind to keep composed.

As Alastor cautiously crept along the edge of the hallway, a wheezing cough came by. He withdrew his sword and quickly altered his position, looking behind. His eyes surveying every nooks and door, it was only but a single window, swinging gently.

He is hesitant but when confirmed that everything is normal, he returned his gaze back to the door.

One step behind and he stops. He pushes the door slowly, peering over the space. It was a sewing machine and a mirror on the back facing the window with a chair and a skeleton sitting on it.

Alastor went inside and didn’t waste any time. He wiped the cobwebs in front of him and made his way to investigate the remains.

From behind, he caught a glimpse of a blade, a rapier on a person’s abdomen.

“It appeared that this person was attacked directly without hesitation. If that were the case then I guess that this person right here was asleep at that time, even so, that won’t explain why he didn’t hear the footsteps or the door creaking.” Alastor looked around and saw at the corner, a broken bottle. “Of course, alcohol, the greatest enemy of warriors. He must’ve fallen asleep. But still, despite that wound, he might be able to call for some help, unless…” He examines the blade and his eyes check back at the shattered bottle. “It’s either he was poisoned by the blade or by the alcohol, but it appears the perpetrator does not intend to end his life as quickest as possible. It’s been fun and all, but I don’t want to assume any further since there’s nothing to support my theory about the motives of the killer.”

Alastor carefully removed the rapier out of the body. His troubled eyes passed over the blade as it rose, analyzing its shape.

“If Linda would be here, I am sure she would be amazed by the curve of this rapier.”

He then tossed it at the edge of the room where it wouldn’t put him in harm.

The corpse’s light breastplate had called of Alastor’s attention. He won’t deny that even time passes, the fabric and the components of the light breastplate remain intact, it didn’t even degrade.

Alastor kneeled and join his hands, praying, “Whoever you may be, I hope you find the light of the afterlife. Forgive me for the intrusion, but I need your belongings for my expedition.”

Alastor was never a devout person, but he knew when is the time to pay respect for someone let including those who passes away from the living.

He rose and carefully removed the clothes and the breastplate of the skeleton. He put the clothes on the table next to the sewing machine. Alastor was not finished yet looking around.

Alastor pulled the knob of a cabinet, he found a black trench coat. He inspected the other one and he saw a pauldron, rerebrace, and leather vambrace that is made of leather that extends to his shoulder. Besides it, cuisses and leather straps are displayed.

“I wasn’t expecting this, but what the hell. I’m gonna make use of this.”

It was on the next cabinet where he found a needle, a scissor, and a thread.

“Perfect.”

Alastor pulled a chair and clean the sewing machine from the cobwebs that stuck for over the years.

He enfolded the thread under the plastic hooks on the left and in the middle, pulled it to the right just before the needle, and hooked it on a small wire. He releases the lever and the wire should pull a large loop of thread through the eye of the needle.

Alastor remembered before, he wasn’t very fond of basic chores, which includes washing dishes, but he taught himself either way. As soon as he was sent out in the field once in an intel-gathering mission as a trainee, he learned what it meant to learn those despite that it was messy and bothersome for him.

Alastor held the light breastplate, cut the light breastplate off the cloth then stitched it on the black trench coat and use the remaining unused leather straps to tack it in on the pauldron.

Alastor shook off the coat, dusting off the dirt of the coat. He observed the trench coat then the clothes of the corpse. His clothes are no better than the extras he found, dirty and smell like a rotten corpse, but at least most of his are in intact unlike the latter, the trouser is no used, the socks and the vesture can be used on the other hand, it just needs a stitch.

If he remembered correctly, there was supposed to be a well behind the tavern. He hopes that it is not contagious. The place was abandoned for how many long, so it is sound to assume that, it is only a possibility though.

Alastor threw a bucket. He felt that the bucket hit the water way too deep as he heard a loud crash of the bucket against the water in the well. He pulled the bucket through the rope tied into it.

He investigated the water thoroughly. He even used a leaf to make sure that it’s not capable of melting. Turns out that it remains normal.

The clothes were put in the basin, but Alastor wasn’t even comfortable at all with his thoughts of including the light breastplate on washing it.

“It was one of the cardinal rules that any armors shouldn’t be washed because it might rapid the decomposition of the material, but…” He can smell the corrosive smell of the breastplate, differing from the rest. “I can’t stand the smell wearing this. Even if I wanted to, I already attached it to the trench coat. There’s no way I’m going to stitch and detach it for another hour.”

It would be ideal to use detergent when washing clothes, but this place had been here for so many years, he doubts that whenever era this place is had develop their own detergent. To his luck, there were lye soaps he found on the kitchens drawer.

Alastor had to hang the clothes outside and wait for them to dry. For now, he must hunt some animals for his dinner or breakfast. He didn’t know what time is it nor how does time work in this place. The only thing that dictates him is his hungry stomach.

To make things worst, in the hour of hunting, he only met monsters, unlikely to be edible. It would be unwise for him to engage without energy, so he chooses to hide and scram.

It would take him another hour to find a normal animal. A bird and a bunny had coincidentally landed in the same place at the right time. Alastor licked his lips.

He prepared his knives and he quickly threw them on the two. Instantly, the two animals were dropped dead.

He brought them back to the tavern where he stake them and gather the woods, rubbing them, so that the friction can produce fire. After the satisfying meal, he found himself in a comfortable room and he slept.

Alastor’s stay was longer than he wanted it to be since it had been some time he had a good day off. He had ceased dozing off and got up from the bed.. By the time he take a look at the clothes and the armors, they were already dried.