Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 118

Chapter 118

 

Nataek took off the cloak and hung it over the back of a chair. Then he walked slowly toward Medeus. With each step he took, the smile in Medeus’s eyes deepened. Seeing that, his heart thumped helplessly again. The string of events from just moments ago flowed back through Nataek’s mind.

What on earth… did I just do?

Having regained reason, the reality he faced was pure confusion. He ran a dry hand down his face. Medeus pushed himself up and, just as Nataek stopped near the bed, pulled him by the waist. Then he rubbed his cheek against Nataek’s flat abdomen.

“Even if you want to take back the promise, I won’t allow it.”

It was a promise not to push him away and not to grow distant. At those words, Nataek let his hand drift down, then gently smoothed the soft hair. He did somewhat regret what he had done, but even so, there was one unwavering resolve.

“Do not worry. It will never be taken back.”

It can’t be. Until escaping this civilization, staying by your side is a necessity.

But that wasn’t the whole reason. As if to calm his own muddled head, Nataek stroked Medeus’s bright hair softly.

To stage a natural recovery process, Nataek kept Medeus from going out for several more days. Medeus, for his part, found his rapid recovery strange, but in the end he accepted that it must be the effect of herbs and devoted care—because Nataek joked that it was thanks to his heartfelt nursing.

He thought peaceful days would last for a while. But hoping for sustained peace in an ancient civilization was futile. Not even a week after Medeus recovered, as if on cue, a letter arrived from Umma. The official missive from the lord of Umma was addressed to Samuagon, and a secret tablet from the diviner was sent to Nataek.

[Wow. You really pulled it off, huh?]

The message opened with an exclamation, without even a greeting. The excitement bleeding through the text put Nataek in a foul mood.

“Maybe I should just smash it…”

He stared at the clay tablet in silence, then resignedly went on reading.

[Thanks to your success over there, things went smoothly on this end too. I prophesied our plan exactly as it was! I even got right how Luhal-Zagesi dies! Well, that part isn’t in our plan. It’s just that I once saw the Uruk ruler die like a dog in Sununki.]

So this guy must not be the type to skip scenes when he plays.

[Anyway, now the lord of Umma is treating me like a god. He’s sent a letter to Samuagon, full of declarations of loyalty. He’s very obedient, you know? Next up, let’s go for the conquest of Umma.]

“I’ll be shaking the lord of Umma by ‘prophesying’ about the Uruk war, right?”

“Yes. The next goal is to take Umma without bloodshed.”

“Good. I’ll do it!”

Recalling the day they made the plan together, Nataek shook his head. He himself was desperate to return to the modern world—but not nearly as desperate as the diviner, it seemed. If the diviner had been an enemy, he would have been a headache in countless ways.

There was little actual information on the tablet. For safety’s sake, it was best to destroy such personal notes that contained no recorded intelligence. Nataek was just about to smash the tablet on a stone when—

“What’s written there that you’d dispose of it so quickly?”

Medeus’s voice came from behind him. Nataek turned.

“It’s from the diviner. He says the lord of Umma is coming to Kish. The rest is useless chatter. No point keeping it—it’ll only take up space.”

Medeus nodded as if that made sense. A sword was strapped firmly at his waist. He seemed to be heading to drill the troops.

“Uruk’s conquest barely ended. You’re training again already?”

“There are many wounded. We need to reorganize.”

Nataek nodded. Then his eyes fell on Medeus’s hand. He was holding a roll of linen bandages. Nataek approached with a startled look.

“Are you hurt? Don’t tell me the arm hasn’t healed, and you’re pretending it has?”

“No. My body is fully healed.”

“Then what are the bandages for?”

“Today’s drill is unarmed combat. It’s best to bring bandages for this one.”

Like boxing wraps? No, wait. Even with the potion—should he be doing such strenuous training already?

He trusted the potion’s effect, but couldn’t quell the worry. In an uneasy tone, Nataek asked:

“Wouldn’t it be better to postpone such intense training a bit?”

“If training were impossible, I would. But drills like this can actually help restore stamina. Don’t worry.”

Medeus’s gaze softened. He didn’t seem put off by Nataek’s concern.

“…Very well. Please, be careful.”

He couldn’t very well make a fuss over something like this to a man who’d trained in far harsher ways for over a decade. Even worried, he could only let him go. Nataek watched silently as Medeus turned away with a nod.

Well. No matter how skilled with sword or spear, one can’t avoid grappling in close quarters. He had exercised plenty, but never truly fought. Do they teach special techniques?

As a player, Nataek had mostly fought close-combat with sword and spear. And the stat that most boosted attack power in close quarters was stamina.

“Drills like this can actually help restore stamina.”

The next city-state after Umma to be targeted was Ur—currently held by the Gutians, at the southern tip of Sununki.

If he could build stamina to face them, that might be useful someday… Should he ask to learn as well?

Upgrading weapon skills wasn’t easy, and strengthening weapons was no picnic either. So anything that might raise offensive power was worth probing.

Nataek called out to Medeus.

“Medeus!”

He arched an eyebrow and turned back.

“Could I learn as well? Close-quarters combat.”

“You?”

Nataek stepped closer.

“Yes. Who knows what might happen next time. I should at least properly learn how to protect myself—”

“No.”

Medeus’s answer was firm.

“Is it because you think I won’t learn properly?”

“…No.”

He refused flatly, but without belittling Nataek’s ability.

“Then why?”

“…Close-quarters training often leads to injury. Some soldiers end up unable to use their limbs.”

If that was the only reason, then under the condition that he wouldn’t be hurt, Medeus might agree to teach—

“I’ll be careful not to get injured. Even then, not possible?”

“How exactly does one ‘be careful’ not to get hurt? When sparring with the unskilled, injury is unavoidable.”

The unskilled… Hmm…

“Then instead of the unskilled, you could be my partner, Medeus.”

At that, Medeus’s face tightened into a scowl.

“Are you asking me to spar with you personally?”

Ah. That might be… a bit much.

A general renowned across Mesopotamia, commander of a nation’s soldiers, wrestling in drills with a mere temple servant—it would not look good.

Right. No matter how gentle he was about it… that wouldn’t do.

“Then… would it be all right to learn with new recruits? Or, if not, from the infantry captain—”

“No.”

More resolute than before when Nataek suggested others.

So… he won’t teach me at all?

The remaining conquests would be tougher than anything so far. With that in mind, learning any technique—even one—would be good.

Nataek’s heart sank. What to do? How to persuade him? The stick… he wouldn’t fall for that. Then a carrot? Offer something in return for granting the request… Maybe? Yes. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He clenched his fists and raised his head.

“Could you give me a chance?”

“A chance for what?”

“A chance to learn.”

If it led down the road to unifying this land, Nataek was ready to take part in anything. With a determined light in his eyes, he stepped closer to Medeus.

“Make a wager with me. If I win, you teach me hand-to-hand. If I lose, I’ll grant you whatever you want. Anything.”

“…Anything?”

A flash sparked in Medeus’s eyes. It made even the initiator flinch. But there was no retreating now.

“Yes. Anything.”

“Good. It’s a promise.”

He answered as if certain he would win. That only spiked Nataek’s anxiety, his momentum faltering for a second.

…What is he planning to ask? Making me nervous like that. He won’t make me eat something bizarre or tell me to get lost, will he?

Even for Nataek, that would be a bit much. After a moment’s thought, he asked carefully:

“Then what… do you intend to ask?”

“I’ll tell you after the wager’s done.”

“…All right. Then what’s the wager?”

Medeus thought briefly, then replied:

“Archery or ladders. Your choice.”

At that, Nataek’s vision brightened.

Which will you choose for the wager with Medeus?

[1. Archery contest]

[2. Ladder climb]

Archery… or ladders…