Crackle...
The dry wood in the campfire burned, sending sparks flying and a thin, acrid trail of smoke curling up into the long night sky.
Nidhogg shifted his position, moving to the other end of the log to avoid the smoke. "You caused quite a stir back then. That mercenary company sent out a lot of men to track you down, but they never found anything."
Guts frowned. He understood what Nidhogg was referring to, but he still asked, his voice cautious, "What 'stir'?"
"The one where you killed your foster father in self-defense." Nidhogg said it plainly, leaving no room for doubt. "The whole company condemned you for it. But I didn't see it that way."
Guts stared at Nidhogg, searching his eyes for a lie. It was a skill he'd never mastered.
"You were in the company back then? I don't remember you." The question itself was an admission.
It was curious, Nidhogg thought. Guts was the second person today to say "I don't remember you." The first had been the knight-commander.
"I'm about your age. But unlike you, I wasn't some prodigy who could hold his own on the battlefield as a kid." Nidhogg was deliberately vague. "I was new. A nobody."
Guts didn't press. If Nidhogg knew about Gambino and recognized him, he must have been there. There was no other explanation.
"What do you mean, you didn't see it that way?" Guts asked, his voice quiet.
Nidhogg thought for a moment. "I heard the talk in the company. About the bad blood between you and your foster father. A lot of people knew about it, but most sided with Gambino. He was the leader, after all."
"Your foster mother, Shisu, took you in when you were a foundling, a baby. She raised you. Then she died of the Red Plague. That was a tragedy. But it wasn't fair that Gambino blamed you for her death."
Guts hadn't heard Shisu's name in years. It stirred memories he'd long buried.
"After that, Gambino went too far." Nidhogg continued. "He didn't care if you lived or died. He threw you into battle as a child. And then he sold you to..."
Nidhogg wisely trailed off.
He could feel the cold fury radiating from Guts, even through the warmth of the fire.
Gambino was the monster who had sold the young Guts to a fellow mercenary.
That mercenary had raped Guts, leaving a scar that ran deeper than any wound. It was the reason Guts still flinched from physical contact with others.
Guts had killed that mercenary in the chaos of a later battle, taking his revenge. But the man still haunted his nightmares.
Guts took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly.
The rest of it all came flooding back.
Gambino had been wounded in battle, crippled, and lost his position as commander. Guts had cared for him, enduring his beatings and abuse.
Then, one night, a drunk Gambino had come at Guts with a sword, trying to kill him.
He blamed Guts for Shisu's death, for his own crippling. He called Guts a curse. And he confessed to selling him to that mercenary.
Guts had only suspected before. That night, he knew for certain. His foster father had sold him. The hatred had always been there. Gambino had never loved him.
His world shattered. His mind went blank. And when Gambino attacked, Guts had killed him. Instinct. Self-preservation.
The company found out quickly. They believed Gambino had raised Guts for over a decade, and Guts had repaid him with murder. Patricide. They hunted him.
Guts had fled. He'd fallen from a cliff, and his pursuers assumed he was dead. He escaped.
For the next four years, he'd wandered as a mercenary-for-hire, bouncing from army to army, living on pay and plunder. But the pain and resentment from his past never left him. He couldn't let it go.
Seeing Guts lost in silence, Nidhogg cleared his throat gently, breaking the spell. "The whole company thought you'd fallen to your death. I never expected to see you again."
"I thought I was dead too..." Guts's voice was rough. "What happened to you? After I left?"
Nidhogg didn't know the fate of that minor mercenary band. "They buried Gambino. Then we lost a big battle not long after. The company scattered."
That was plausible. It was the standard end for most mercenary companies. Only a rare few, like the Hawks, rose to prominence through merit.
Guts nodded.
If he'd had doubts before, now he was convinced. Nidhogg must have been in that company. They just hadn't known each other.
"So you don't think I'm cursed? You don't think I'm a murderer?" Guts met Nidhogg's eyes.
Nidhogg answered honestly.
"Without you, would our company have been any different? Would we have been destroyed anyway? People die every day in this world. Some are crippled, some die of plague. Is that all your fault?"
"And as for 'patricide'... You were defending yourself. What's wrong with that? Shisu raised you. Gambino was a monster. Weren't you allowed to fight back?"
"If you ask me, anyone else in your shoes would have done the same. The ones who judge you, they're just talking out of their asses. Easy for them to say."
Guts stared at him for a moment, stunned. Then he covered his face with his hand and let out a short, sharp laugh.
"'Talking out of their asses'... I've never heard that one before... Ha... hahaha..."
He never imagined there would be someone in this world who, knowing his past, would take his side. Would speak for him. And that someone was sitting right in front of him.
As Nidhogg watched Guts laugh, the quest updated.
「Short-term Quest」 Encounter Guts (Completed. Reward: Level Up from LV 16 → LV 19)
「Short-term Quest」 Encounter Key Members of the Hawk Company (0/6) / Defeat the Bandits
The satisfaction of leveling up hadn't even faded when Nidhogg saw the new objective: "Defeat the Bandits." His eyes sharpened. A chill ran down his spine.
He whipped his head around, scanning the darkness.
Too late.
In the moonlit night, numerous figures flitted between the trees, silently encircling their camp. Low, sinister laughter echoed from the shadows.
Guts felt it too. His laughter died. He grabbed the massive sword lying beside him and rose to a crouch, eyes sweeping the treeline.
Fwoosh!
A sharp arrow leaped from the darkness, aimed directly at the back of Nidhogg's head!
Guts was faster. He swung his massive blade in a blur, the wind from its passage kicking up dust. The flat of the sword batted the arrow out of the air.