Chapter - 80

"I am telling you, boiy!" Grendel boomed, his rough voice rolling over the steady creak of the cart wheels, "That woman was built like a blessing from the gods. Her tits were huge. Big, heavy things that pulled your eyes right to them and dared you to stare."

He slapped his knee and laughed, loud and proud.

"And Lola's skin," He went on, warming to the story, "Soft everywhere. Not just soft. Warm. Like fresh dough that hasn't cooled yet. You press your hand there and it just wraps around those melons deep. When she sat on my lap, I swear the breath left my body. Chest crushed. Hips pinned. I was trapped under a real woman."

Leo lay flat on the hay in the back of the cart, straw hat pulled low over his face, the sun beating down. He groaned like a man facing execution.

"She had thighs like tree trunks," Grendel continued happily. "Thick, strong, wrapped around you like she meant to keep you. And she smelled good too. If she ever stepped in my cart, it would smell like her for days."

"Old Man!" Leo muttered from under the hat, voice tight with pain, "If you say one more word about that Lola girl, I will personally throw you off this cart and let the road decide your fate."

Grendel only laughed harder.

"Jealous, Your Highness?" Grendel wheezed, wiping a tear of joy from his eye, "I bet your noble lady doesn't have the... grip... of a professional like Lola. That woman could crack a walnut with her…"

"Shut up, old man," Leo interrupted, though he couldn't help the smirk forming on his lips.

"Bah! You young ones have no appreciation for the arts," Grendel scoffed. He sighed, his expression turning mock-wistful.

"Gods, I wasted forty years with my wife. That woman had the warmth of a frozen fish and the enthusiasm of a corpse. If I had known what ten gold coins could buy at the brothel, I would have been a widower decades ago!"

He turned back to the mule, snapping the reins lightly, "Move it, Hilda! Even you have more wiggle in your ass than my late wife."

Leo shook his head. The old man was a menace, but he kept the boredom at bay.

"So," Grendel pivoted, glancing back over his shoulder with a sly grin. "Speaking of wiggling... Was it the Lady Seraphine who took a fancy to you? Or did you just drug her with that 'Ironblood Charisma' of yours?"

Leo stayed silent, feigning sleep.

"Oh, come on, boiy!" Grendel pressed, "You can tell your old friend Grendel. I bet you snuck into her room like a thief in the night. Climbed the balcony? No, too cliché for a Prince. I bet you took her right there in the Lord's study!"

Grendel's eyes lit up as his imagination ran wild.

"I can see it now!" He shouted to the trees, "Lord Caelum, sitting at his desk, counting his copper coins, muttering about taxes... While right on the other side of the wall, you have got his wife bent over a table, screaming your name! Hah!"

"The poor 'Soon-to-be Cuckold Bastard Lord'! Huh… It actually has a nice ring to it, eh?"

Leo didn't answer, but his eyes twitched. The old man was frighteningly accurate with his guesses. It was almost as if he had a skill for sniffing out scandal.

"You have a very active imagination for someone with one foot in the grave," Leo said dryly, "Focus on the road. We are getting close."

"Fine, fine," Grendel grumbled, "Keep your secrets. But I know a satisfied man when I see one. You don't have the look of a fox who couldn't get the grapes."

As the hours dragged on, the banter slowly died down. The landscape began to change around them.

The rolling, safe green hills of the Auravale farmlands gave way to something older and darker. The trees grew massive, their trunks thick as towers, their branches interlocked overhead to block out the sun. The air grew colder, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and ancient decay.

They were entering the Endless Forest.

Through the gaps in the dense canopy, Leo could see the jagged, white peaks of the World's Teeth mountain range piercing the sky like broken bone in the far distance.

Leo sat up, checking his System map. The red marker was pulsing just ahead.

[Destination Reached: Forward Scout Outpost (Abandoned)]

"Whoa, Hilda," Grendel pulled on the reins.

The cart ground to a halt.

In front of them, half hidden by the tree, stood the outpost. It was a stone guard tower surrounded by a crumbling wall. Moss covered the grey stones like a shroud. The roof had partially collapsed, leaving jagged timber pointing at the sky like ribs. The heavy wooden gate hung off one hinge, creaking softly in the wind.

It looked like a skull staring out of the woods.

"Charming," Leo muttered, hopping down from the cart. He stretched his limbs, his joints popping after eleven hours of travel. "We are here."

"This the place?" Grendel asked, eyeing the dark windows of the tower nervously, "Looks like a tomb."

"Looks like it," Leo looked at the old man, "Now get going, old man. Scout the perimeter."

Grendel's jaw dropped, "Me? Alone? I am just the driver! And I am old! My knees click when I walk! Why don't you do it, the great hero? You are the one with the magic swords!"

Leo glared at him, "Because you are the one who finds the monsters, and I am the one who then kills them. That's the division of labor."

"Now go. Or I will tell Lola you are broke and she should find a new favorite client."

Grendel gasped, clutching his chest. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"You!!! Slave driver," Grendel grumbled, grabbing a rusty pitchfork from the back of the cart, "Tyrant. Ironblood bastard. I hope a goblin bites your ankle."

He shuffled off into the bushes, poking at the undergrowth with the enthusiasm of a man marching to the gallows.

"He is actually taking his own story seriously," Leo shook his head.

And as he watched the old man go, he turned his attention to the outpost. He drew his old Iron Sword in his hand.

He pushed the broken gate open. It groaned, a sound that echoed too loudly in the quiet forest.

He stepped into the courtyard. It was overgrown with weeds and thorns. He made his way to the main building, stepping over a rotted wooden beam.

The interior was dim and dusty. Shafts of afternoon light cut through the holes in the roof, illuminating swirling motes of dust. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dry leaves, animal droppings, and debris.

Leo scanned the room. [Predator's Instincts] remained silent. There was nothing living in here.

But there were things that had once lived.

In the far corner, slumped against the stone wall, sat two figures.

Skeletons.

They were still clad in rusted, decaying chainmail armour, the leather straps rotted away to nothing. They weren't positioned like guards on duty.

One skeleton was sitting with his back to the wall, legs splayed out. A long, rusted spear was driven through his chest, pinning him to the stone behind him. His skull hung low, chin resting on his breastplate.

The second skeleton was slumped over the first, as if he had fallen forward. His hand was still gripping the hilt of a dagger. The blade of the dagger was buried deep in the first skeleton's eye socket, slipped perfectly through the gap in the visor of the helm.

Leo walked closer, the dry leaves crunching under his boots. He looked at the scene.

It was intimate. Violent.

"Friendly fire?" Leo mused aloud, "Or is he trying to save him?"

There were no signs of a third party. No goblin arrows, no beast claw marks. Just two soldiers, locked in a death embrace for decades. Had they fought over food? Over a woman? Or had the isolation of the Endless Forest simply driven them to tear each other apart?

"Creepy," Leo muttered.

"ALL CLEAR!"

Grendel's voice boomed from the doorway, making Leo jump.

The old man waddled in, looking proud of himself. "Just a squirrel and a badger. I chased the badger off with the stick. I still got it, eh?"

Then Grendel looked past Leo. He saw the corner. He saw the rusted armour and the grinning skulls.

"BY THE GODS!"

Grendel shrieked like a banshee. He scrambled backward, tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. He crab-walked backward until he hit the doorframe.

"Ghosts! It's haunted! I knew it! Look at them! They are watching us!" Grendel pointed a shaking finger at the skeletons, "That one is looking right at me! He wants my soul!"

Leo sighed, rubbing his temples. "They are dead, Old Man! They don't want your soul. They have been dead for like fifty years. Even their ghosts should be dead by now."

"I don't care!" Grendel yelled, scrambling to his feet and hiding behind Leo, "That's a dead man with a knife in his eye, boiy! That's bad omen! We need to leave. We can sleep in the cart. Or in a tree. I will sleep anywhere but here!"

"We need a defensible position," Leo said calmly, "The walls look solid. The roof... mostly works. We are sleeping here, and that's final."

"I am not sleeping with them!" Grendel squeaked.

"Then move them," Leo said.

Grendel froze, "What?"

"Clean it up," Leo ordered, sheathing his sword, "Sweep the floor. Move the bones outside. Bury them if you want, or just toss them in the bushes. I don't care. And make a fire. It's going to be a cold night."

"Me?!" Grendel looked indignant, "I am already your cart driver! I even scout for you! I am not a maid for the dead! I refuse!"

Leo leaned against the stone wall, crossing his arms. He looked at the old man with a pitying expression.

"You know, Old Man!" Leo mused, "Lola isn't cheap. And that 100 gold coins won't last forever. You are spending it fast."

Grendel narrowed his eyes, "So?"

"So," Leo continued smoothly, "Who do you think is going to pay for your next visit? For the wine? For the private room? For that 'mountain of warm woman-flesh' you love so much?"

He pointed a finger at Grendel.

"I am the hand that feeds your extravagant indulges, old man. I am the reason you are not drinking watered-down swill in a ditch."

"Are you going to bite the hand that lets you suck on those marvelous tits? Are you going to spit on the man who funds your way into that overly-used pussy?"

Grendel opened his mouth to argue. He closed it. He looked at the skeletons. He looked at Leo. He thought about Lola's soft thighs.

The logic was undeniable. He was nothing without this bastard.

"Fine!" Grendel snapped, his face turning red, "Fine! You heartless, disrespectful brat! But I'm cursing you the whole time! I hope a ghost bites your ass in your sleep!"

He stomped over to a corner and grabbed a large, leafy branch that had fallen through the roof.

"Stupid hero," Grendel muttered, approaching the skeletons warily, "Stupid forest. Stupid bones."

He started sweeping the floor with aggressive, angry strokes, sending clouds of dust into the air.

"Begone, foul spirits!" Grendel shouted, whacking the skeleton's leg with the branch, "Make way for the Prince of Bastards!"

Leo watched him, amused. He pulled a ration bar from his inventory.

"Missed a spot," Leo pointed to a corner thick with spiderwebs, "And try not to disturb the skulls too much when you move them. They look like they are judging your technique."

Grendel threw the branch down. "I hate you! I hate this!"

"Less talking. More sweeping," Leo just grinned, taking a bite of his apple, "Do a good job, and I will make you my side kick."

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