The Black Dog dragged his feet across the wasteland, leaning his weight on a walking stick. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since before the attack, and he hadn’t ingested anything save for the meager water offered to him in his cell. Tired, starving, and thirsty, his body was at its limit. He felt the urge to collapse and sleep on the spot, but he knew if he did, he would not rise again.
The only rest he allowed himself came in the form of standing in one place from time to time, propped up by his stick. During one of these brief breaks, he turned to look behind him. There, a mountain range loomed like a vast wall, and the massive water dragon carved into its face lorded over the plains. Back when he had sealed the valley, he had viewed this scene enough times to grow sick of it. In his cell, he’d assumed he would never see it again. He had told himself he would eventually escape one way or another, but in the depths of his heart, he’d believed he would never leave that cell alive. And yet, liberation had indeed come, all too easily.
The one who had guided him out of the dungeon had been, of all people, the Demon King himself.
Hours after the interrogation, in the dead of night, the Demon King had appeared again, accompanied by the orc maid on her chain, and led the Black Dog out of the damp dungeon. Along the way, he had seen that all the guards lay unconscious, and he’d realized the Demon King was acting on his own discretion.
When they parted outside the fortress, the Demon King tossed the blue gem back to him and, with the maid’s help, told him, “I set you free. Never let go of that.”
The Black Dog didn’t know what that meant, but he understood the Demon King’s seriousness as he said it. Mysteriously, the sentiment was potent enough to easily step over the line drawn between their races. If he was to be released so easily, though, why had the Demon King gone through such effort to capture him? Had the answers he’d received during the interrogation been all he sought?
Upon reflection, the Black Dog couldn’t recall having said anything significant. Even if some important information had been contained in his words, that would still be no reason to free him. He especially couldn’t comprehend why the gemstone that could destroy the wall had simply been handed back to him. Judging by the seriousness of the Demon King’s demeanor, the jewel couldn’t have turned out to be worthless junk. The Black Dog simply couldn’t get a read on him.
Whatever the human’s motives, the Black Dog found his release to be a cause for celebration. While he had failed to bring down the wall, he had still learned valuable information—about the Demon King, a former maid serving as an interpreter, and the margrave’s daughter. He could now bring this information back to the margrave’s city. Whether it would change their interactions with humans henceforth was for the higher-ups to ponder.
The Black Dog wondered how that lazy son would react. There was a strong chance he wouldn’t believe him. His report on his confrontation with the Demon King and his subsequent release would surely sound like complete nonsense.
No matter what, the possibility that the margrave’s daughter was alive would certainly be treated as good news. He needed to get to him and tell him.
He turned from the mountains, back to the desolate expanse of the north. He continued on with renewed determination, but the margrave’s city was far away yet, the hills on the horizon seeming to never get any closer. His feet grew heavier step by step, and his pace continued to lag.
As he walked, he thought back to the black aquilup he had lost in the battle. How reassuring it would be if his beloved partner of many years were here to carry him. Only now was the loss beginning to set in, and he had lost far more than that. Not a single one of the friends he had first set out with remained. If any of the others from the mercenary brigade had survived, they would have retreated to the margrave’s city, as the Black Dog had ordered them to do if he didn’t return from his mission. Their short-range riding guns wouldn’t be enough against dragons when the sun rose.
His equipment had all been confiscated, and the Black Dog had been ejected into the wasteland with nothing more than the clothes on his back. All he had left was his life, and even that felt like it was weathering away. The reclaimed northern lands had become vast, uninhabitable expanses, and it would take several days to reach even the nearest village. How was he to achieve that without food and water? Yet on he trudged.
A single pebble was all it took for his heart to fall to pieces.
It wasn’t a special stone by any means, save for the fact that it happened to lie where he brought his foot down. Its pressure against his sole caused his body to jerk a little, but in his weakened state, that was enough to throw him off balance. He fell facedown, his arms lacking even the power to break his fall. He couldn’t push himself back up or even roll onto his back. So this was the end, then… His news would go undelivered. Lying there, he closed his eye and deeply breathed in the smell of dirt, ready to submit to endless sleep.
Then a familiar whistle reached his ears. The whistle was the one aquilup riders used to communicate with one another. He had no allies out here, though, so it had to be that his fallen comrades were welcoming him to the other side. When he pressed his ear to the ground, he heard the sound of aquilup claws approaching at a rapid pace. They stopped just short of him. The reaper was here.
He opened his eye to look up and see what form the reaper had assumed, but it was not death who greeted him. It was, rather, a lanky orc with a familiar face, a face that shouldn’t have been here. It belonged to the subordinate to whom he’d entrusted command of the main force, before the mission began.
“What, you died too?” the Black Dog said to him, despairing. If this cautious and capable orc had been killed, then the whole unit must have suffered devastating losses.
“What are you talking about?” his subordinate said. “I’m right as rain.”
The lanky orc scoffed as if to say, Don’t lump us together. It took some time for the Black Dog to realize what was going on.
“You’re…alive.”
“Yes, as you can see,” the man replied. He dismounted his aquilup, lifted the Black Dog off the ground, and gave him his canteen. A comforting sloshing could be heard from inside the metal canister. “Drink up.”
Somehow revitalized, the Black Dog downed all its contents. When he could catch his breath again, he asked, “Why are you here? I ordered you to retreat.”
The lanky orc shrugged. “You didn’t come back, but I knew you weren’t going to bite the dust that easily, Boss. I thought maybe you’d lost your aquilup and were having a hard time rejoining us, so I figured I should search the area.”
“What about my orders?”
“Sorry about that, but without you around I wouldn’t want to stay in this line of work. I know it was risky, but I’ve been skulking around the forests so the dragons don’t find me. What about you, Boss? You’re a fine target, walking around in the middle of the plains.”
The Black Dog had no response to that.
“Well, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters. The others will be here soon. Look.”
He gestured around, and sure enough, other aquilup riders bounded toward them from their hiding spots. When they saw the Black Dog was alive, they all gave a cheer, the tusks in their widened mouths gleaming.
“As long as you’re alive, boss, everything will work out. Next time, it’s victory!”
With that, he lifted the Black Dog up onto his saddle. The aquilup groaned in protest, but after its owner rubbed it on the beak, it begrudgingly accepted the new rider. He jumped up in front of his captain, and this time it was the extra weight that caused the aquilup to grumble.
“Let’s get out of here,” the lanky orc said.
Before the Black Dog knew it, he was surrounded by a herd of aquilup riders, apparently all the remaining survivors of their team. Their numbers had dwindled since the start of the mission, but the faces that surrounded him were bright. Of course they were; they had finally found the leader they so admired. They watched the Black Dog expectantly, awaiting his orders.
He called up his deepest reserve of power and roared, “Troops—pull out!”
“Yes, sir!” they all shouted back.
They set out toward the south. They had a message to deliver to the margrave.