《Kreig Goes Apesh*t (An AU of Returning to No Applause)》Chapter 9, Camping

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Since human territory remained far-off, they decided to set camp for the night. A small opening beneath a cliff made for a good hide-out. They couldn’t exactly predict where a village might be, but so far they were following a small but well-walked path that suggested the existence of civilization.

With night descending as deeply as it only did in such northern regions, neither of them felt much desire to fetch provisions before going to bed. And even if they had wanted food, Kreig hardly wanted to leave Sam alone, even if for only a minute. Likewise, he could barely imagine going to sleep at the same time as her. Or even at all.

Since he had no need for sleep to begin with, he remained awake while she tucked in below his warm, dry cape. It was the only clean piece of clothing they had, not counting all the blood on it.

And so, all night, he kept watch, quietly listening to all the sounds of the world. First, most closely, he heard the gentle snoring of his sister, no longer afraid to be in his company. After that, lying like a blanket on the black-and-white world of night sky and snow, he heard the soft howl of the wind, moving through branches and around stems like snow spirits dancing merrily. At times, he could hear various creatures moving here and there, taking small steps to avoid being noticed. None wandered too closely, and for that Kreig was grateful, as he did not wish to awaken his sister by accident.

Night passed easily, and once the morning dawned, Kreig gently shook his sister awake. The novelty of her not twitching at the sight of him never wore off. “Huh? Oh, good morning, Kreig!”

Her pleasant voice was all he needed to get going.

Now that she was awake, he was starting to regret not capturing some small creature to feed her with, but it shouldn’t take them too long to find civilization, and even if it did, his excellent sense of smell would net them any animal they could want. So, they wandered. As the forest around them slowly grew thicker and livelier, their conversations also continued. Sam talked about her past, about her troubles with psychedelics and how it somehow led to her current life as a Fighter. Well, former life as a Fighter. It would be pretty silly for Kreig to put her in danger now that he could actually protect her.

As the sun fell once more, it became all too obvious that Sam actually did need to eat. There was no question about it, but that didn’t mean Kreig was too happy about it.

Leaving her alone, in the middle of the wilderness? Impossible.

But he had to.

So, he set up a small fire, and prepared himself for the quickest possible hunt. In other words, he stood still, and took a deep breath. Once he located the closest prey that might feed her for long enough, he was off in a flash of movement that made the snow around them whirl.

And then, within 30 seconds, he was back. Over his shoulder, an oversized but incredibly fluffy larva hung.

Where she sat, Sam gave a trembling smile. “Wh-, what’s that?”

Kreig placed the creature on the snowy ground and began to assemble a construct of twigs to cook over the fire with. “Snow worm. Common in these parts and temperatures. “ He glanced over at Sam. “Very nutritious.”

“Well, yeah, uh, I’m sure about that, but…” She gestured broadly at the decapitated creature and made a grimace. “-Is it edible?”

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Kreig felt his brows knit together. “Of course. I’ve had plenty myself. It’s a shame we have no spices to use.”

She seemed like she wanted to argue, but then her stomach growled and she had no choice but to slump over, dejected.

How strange of her. If they’d taken this creature across the border, many would surely buy it as a curious delicacy. Either way, now that he had his grilling station constructed, all he needed to do was prep the creature. Since he didn’t have the time to completely defur it, he chose to simply skin the entire thing and toss it all aside. Beneath, an expanse of taut flesh stretched around soft insides. People with standards often chose to remove the innards completely, but those parts contained the most nutrients, so Kreig chose to simply place it on a skewer as it was.

For some reason, Sam didn’t look too excited about finally getting a proper meal.

It wasn’t as though the worm smelled too badly, either, despite its sad lack of spicing. But for now, their main goal was really just to survive. They could enjoy a good meal once they found a village or something.

By this point, the sun had fallen completely, leaving them in the dark, save for the fire and the worm.

Kreig poked at its flesh with a stick. “...It’s done.”

“It’s done?”

“Yes,” Kreig replied.

The colour drained from her cheeks. Carefully, she clasped her hands in prayer. “O God who is great and awesome, please don’t let me die from a worm. If I survive tonight, I will be your eternal servant. Pinkie-promise. Amen.” She opened her eyes again. Kreig handed her one of its legs. She slowly accepted, only barely keeping back tears.

For a few seconds, it seemed like she didn’t know exactly how to handle it, since she kept turning it and looking it over, eventually just biting into the carapace without care.

Unsure how to tell her she was wrong, Kreig cracked a leg open to show her how it was done. He slurped out the inside of the leg and she stared at him in slow realisation before quickly doing the same thing.

And, as she clearly realised, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Hey, it’s like crab!”

Not that bad at all.

The actual body of the worm went mostly uneaten, but Sam was able to inhale almost all the legs, stopped only by common courtesy. Kreig wasn’t actually eating all that intently, he only did it to show her it wasn’t poisonous or anything, but seeing as how she left him a few legs, he really couldn’t help himself.

And it wasn’t as though it tasted all that bad. Carefully, he ate, if only for her sake.

As with last night, she went to bed while he kept watch and sustained the fire’s glow. The former mission was more important tonight since they now had something prospective predators might actually want.

And yet, the night passed peacefully.

The next day, after smothering the fire with snow and leaving the worm for anyone to take (on Sam’s demand), they once again left.

They walked a fair distance before Kreig noticed the sound of something approaching. After a few minutes, Sam was able to notice it as well. Something large. Something heavy. Something wooden.

They shared a glance before drawing to a stop.

The easy clip-clop of hooves approached as the carriage came into view down the road. It was far from large and clearly carried equipment and provisions rather than people. It was only drawn by a pair of common horses who in turn were led by a nervous-looking lad who seemed to act as coachman despite being clad in a simple military uniform.

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Soon enough he had approached them enough for their eyes to meet. His eyes widened and he quickly sat up straight before hitting the horse to make it move faster.

Once the carriage arrived at their level, he made the horses stop with a meek “H-, ho there!” A pair of bright blue eyes looked down at them. He looked Sam up and down before turning to Kreig. “I, uh…” He quickly shook his head before jumping down from where he sat, landing with a perfect salute. “Hostler Herzmud reporting!”

“Uh…” Sam glanced at Kreig. “I-, hello, I’m-, God, fuck, my German sucks, err…”

Kreig looked down at her and softly sighed. Mentally, he recalled the name written on Sam’s letter. “My apologies, Hostler. Officer Tapferkeit hit his head during the battle. He speaks only gibberish.”

“Ah, uh… That’s a shame, Officer.” He quietly scratched his head, eyes clearly trailing to Kreig’s unusual armour. “And you’re-?”

“Simple infantry. Private Jönsson.”

He nodded broadly. Kreig figured that if he tried to read his mind, the boy would surely be repeating their names over and over to remember them. “Apologies for coming so late, there was a mistake in counting and they had me sent out after you. But I’m sure you already knew that, unless the hawkbat got shot down.”

Kreig glanced over at Sam, trying to ascertain whether she understood him or not. Her blank stare told him that her mind was as empty as could be. “No, I’m afraid we did not get the memo. However, I doubt it will be needed anymore.”

“Ah, is that so?...” He smiled sadly. “I’ll assume the battle went as usual, then?...”

Sam held out a hand and stammered, “Not so!” Her accent was off but her words had the desired effect as Herzmud quieted. “We-, he… uhh… He War kill!” With that bold statement, she gestured at Kreig.

Herzmud blinked at him. “...He killed War? The War?”

Kreig nodded. “I had trained many years for this moment. The battle was big. All soldiers apart from the honourable Officer went under.” Somehow, the gaze the young man sent him seemed far from believing. Even less so enthusiastic. Convincing the boy was technically of no consequence - if they needed to, they could just kill him and steal his carriage. But Sam probably wouldn’t like that. So, instead, Kreig brought a knuckle to his chest plate and rapped it against the thick metal. “This is his armour.”

With that, Herzmud’s gaze finally left his face and returned to the armour. “...Is it really?...” Kreig nodded at him, trying to put an expression of why would I lie to you? on his face. “By the Gods.”

Kreig had, admittedly, expected this to rouse some form of admiration or excitement in the boy. But nothing like that came. Instead, he simply began to pace back and forth in front of them, pausing only to shakily pet his horses a few times. Picking up on his mumbling was possible, but the things he said were near-intelligible anyways. For one, he seemed awfully worried about the global state of things, going so far as to say that the economy would collapse for some odd reason. Other worries included, but were not limited to: his horses, his job, his life, the lives of his parents and fifteen brothers, the national relationship between Pawinia and its nearby states, the princess getting married off to a lowly soldier…

All sorts of things that Kreig really couldn’t bother to care about.

Sam must have been equally annoyed, since she soon reached out a hand to grip his shoulder, making him jerk out of his mumblings. Her eyes were fierce as they connected with his. “We.” She pointed at her and Kreig. “You.” She pointed at him. “Horse.” Finally, she pointed at the carriage.

“Oh, you-, you want to-? Well, erm, of course! I just… well, then again… but also…”

Sam shook him violently. “Horse?!”

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll bring you!” To really drive home his point, he began nodding passionately, as though believing she didn’t understand words, which she sort of didn’t.

Before Sam could make their relationship to the young hostler any stranger, Kreig quickly said, “Thank you, Hostler Herzmud. Alone in the wilderness, we had little time left.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, considering you took down War, I doubt a few nights in freezing cold could take you out.” Saying so, he hopped back onto the front of the carriage. Following suit, Kreig stepped aboard, helping Sam on by holding onto her arm. Surprisingly, the carriage only creaked a little under his impressive weight. “There’s plenty of supplies back there, but it’s mostly hardtack and ammunition. I passed a town not too long ago - you two don’t mind stopping briefly, do you?”

“Not at all, Hostler,” Kreig answered smoothly. “We’d love a warm bed and a nice meal.”

“Heh, you can say that again.” He paused for a few seconds. “Also, since we'll be together for a while, how about dropping the titles and stuff? Only grandpas call each other like that, you know?”

“...I see,” Kreig murmured. In truth, he had only once before stepped foot on Pawinian soil. They were lucky the country apparently spoke German, or they might have both had to use the excuse that they hit their heads. “Then, simply Herzmud?”

“You’re a pretty strange one for infantry,” Herzmud said with a chuckle. “You talk like a captain or something, so, eh… Look, we’re both just little guys, so how about calling me Hans?” After a second or so he must have realised what he said, since he suddenly turned around with a flustered expression. “N-, not as in physically little or anything! I mean-, you’re large enough to pass for an ox, so just…”

Kreig waved it off. “I don’t mind. Before all this, I was also…” Carefully, he shook his head. He glanced at the back of the Hostler-, no, Hans. “...If you wish, then… You may call me… Kreig.”

“Kreig?” Hans repeated. “That’s…” Right as Kreig was starting to believe he might have to kill the young hostler after all, the boy suddenly burst into a guffaw. “Hahahahahah! Well, isn’t that a bit ironic! War killing War, huh?” He hummed to himself. “If that thing was to be brought down anyhow, having his final demise be as a joke might be best.”

Kreig wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Even if he actually was a simple soldier named Kreig Jönsson who just defeated War of the North, he probably wouldn’t be able to say any words in response to such a thing. So, instead, he turned to look at his sister. Her eyebrows were squished together in attention and concentration. He certainly would have liked to explain things to her, but English as a language was both dead and forbidden. In the Yungland Empire, speaking English would usually net one a heresy charge - in other words, execution.

So far, Hans didn’t seem to have noticed the language Sam spoke as being English. This was a very good thing. It meant that there was a possibility that Pawinians could not recognize English. It had been many years since the Holy Wars, after all.

Then again, the country was situated right next to God’s Light. It was a gamble, but even if they lost, killing Hans was still not out of the equation.

“Sam.” She perked to look at him. “Have you understood anything we have said until now?”

She smiled meekly. “Well, er, no, but… I’ve tried! Promise!”

“...I see.” Seeing the look on her face, there was only one thing he could do. “You’ve done well.” She lit up at his praise, her smile transforming into a grin. “However, I must warn that we would do best to speak English as little as possible. Hans does not seem to recognize it as anything but gibberish, but more well-learnt people may see through it.”

She nodded resolutely. “My German shall soar! Yessir!”

He sighed. She truly was herself. “Now, as for our future plans…”

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