Ch.170Reunion (4)

The warhorse Gus, from the public stables of Alzar Barony, was truly a military horse that seemed to embody ordinariness in reality.

Born from his mother’s womb, he was forcibly separated from her as soon as he was weaned and had to be raised by human hands. During his growth, he displayed excellent qualities as a warhorse and achieved outstanding training results, officially becoming a military horse belonging to the public stables.

In other words, he became a warhorse of the public stables—not particularly outstanding but not especially remarkable either—whose main role was to be rented out for a fee to knights or soldiers who didn’t have their own horses.

In reality, Gus was truly a warhorse of unremarkable lineage. While he certainly possessed superior physical qualities as expected of a military horse, aside from that, he was nothing more than an ordinary warhorse not even classified as a magical beast.

Therefore, under normal circumstances, Gus’s fate would likely have been to live an ordinary life befitting his lineage and die an ordinary death as a warhorse, but…

This fate completely changed after Gus happened to carry the barony’s heir apparent.

Perhaps taking a liking to Gus’s ordinary lineage, from that day forward, Gus became Camille de Alzar’s personal warhorse, and thus he built a bond with Camille, who often roamed here and there.

It was Gus who trained in coordination with Camille during his time as a squire in knight training, and Gus was by Camille’s side when he awakened his aura and rose to intermediate rank.

Even when Camille returned to the “village” and his activities decreased, this relationship remained unchanged. Gus and Camille shared a special bond as if they had divided their souls between them—

And because of this relationship, when Camille faced danger, Gus threw himself forward to save him.

Horses are, by nature, very fearful creatures.

There’s even a story about a famous racehorse who was afraid of his own shadow, and after the popularization of gunpowder weapons, adapting to the sound of explosions became a basic requirement for warhorses.

This doesn’t change even for warhorses, which are based on horses with various magical beast genes mixed in. So Gus too would have followed his instincts to save his own life if he didn’t trust his rider.

Particularly, the intelligence of warhorses with magical beast bloodlines can partially rival that of humans. Since they’re based on horses, which are already quite intelligent, warhorses possess enough intelligence to understand human speech.

Therefore, the moment Gus saw those centipede tentacles shooting out from the spider’s abdomen, he could recognize the danger, and his instincts were directing him to run away from the scene at full speed.

But for some reason, after Gus’s eyes caught sight of those poisonous blades flying toward his beloved friend, his body was already moving on its own, pushing Camille aside.

He didn’t know why. No, there was no reason. It wasn’t the result of rational thought or judgment, nor was it a conclusion reached after calculating and comparing the value of both sides.

Almost simultaneously with recognizing the situation, Gus’s body was already moving, and when he came to his senses, he had already pushed Camille away and taken the attack with his own body instead.

What spread through Gus’s horse body was a terrible sensation of pain. Extreme agony that seemed to torture both flesh and soul, twisting them.

Though he felt like he might lose consciousness at any moment, Gus endured with the sole conviction that something worse would happen if he did.

At about 7 years old this year, considering a warhorse’s lifespan, he was essentially in the prime of his youth, but at the same time, he was a horse who had spent more than half his life in battle.

As if all his past experiences hadn’t been in vain, Gus, who showed a mental maturity that could hardly be dismissed as that of a mere beast, now watched the person before him.

His longtime friend, pumping his entire body with rage whose cause was immediately apparent, slaying the enemy with a strength he had never experienced before.

Feeling what could only be described as pride at that sight, Gus thought as he felt an unpleasant sensation slowly creeping in.

That this had been a fulfilling enough life for a horse.

※ ※ ※

After the centipede tentacle that burst from the demon Meckilles’s spider abdomen pierced and destroyed Gus.

“—Gus!”

With rage boiling to the top of my head, I used this emotion as fuel to cut Meckilles to pieces in just 10 seconds, and the moment his dismembered body fell to the ground, I rushed to Gus.

Right now, nothing else mattered to me. Nothing was more important than Gus, who was dying from the “Corruption” toxin.

For 5… 6 years now. The time Gus and I had spent together since we first met and coordinated with each other was that long, and during that time, Gus and I had saved each other’s lives, continuing our friendship as the best of companions.

Even though Corin had completed the chimera riding training, the reason I insisted on keeping Gus, a low-grade general-purpose mount, until the end was due to these deeper reasons layered on top of each other.

And now, that same Gus was slowly dying before me, stabbed by a spine containing what that thing possessed—the “Corruption toxin.”

In fact, if it had been an ordinary toxic substance, it wouldn’t have been able to cause any harm to Gus’s warhorse body, which had strong resistance to many harmful substances.

Typically, warhorses are bred not so much to enhance their specs haphazardly, but rather to specialize in versatility and combat endurance.

Since there are already plenty of superior beings in other aspects, the result was to increase versatility and environmental adaptability so as not to be constrained by specific situations.

And in this breeding process, warhorses gain resistance to toxic substances in general, but the “Corruption toxin” that Gus was injected with operates on an entirely different fundamental concept than such things.

The ultimate poison—the very concept of “Corruption” embodied in the form of poison—a force that twists the soul and distorts the flesh.

It was only because warhorses like Gus had resistance to toxic substances that he wasn’t immediately infected by the corrupting power throughout his body, turning into a demon or something similar.

“Gus, Gus! Are you okay?”

Anyway, Gus was barely alive thanks to his resistance to poison, but…

That doesn’t mean Gus, who took the hit instead of me, was in good condition.

The “Corruption toxin” injected after being stabbed by the centipede tentacle had rotted or dissolved nearly half of Gus’s internal organs, while simultaneously dyeing his flesh black with demonic realm mana, literally attempting to “contaminate” him.

The resistance that warhorses like Gus possess applies only to toxic substances.

Contamination by demonic realm mana is not strictly a toxic substance, so naturally, that corruption was slowly infiltrating his body.

In particular, this toxin had completely dissolved Gus’s intestines and some major organs, and its influence had now even reached his lungs.

To be frank, the only reason Gus was still gasping for breath despite his condition was because I had poured all the healing potions Gretel had provided to somehow neutralize the damage.

But… there’s a limit to what can be achieved even by consuming high-grade healing potions and remedies that promote tissue regeneration.

Especially that evil—the power of black magic that “Gluttony” had prepared specifically to take me down—was at a level difficult to cure even with a high priest present.

Even if I used all the holy water I had and utilized the unicorn horn’s properties to neutralize that power, his remaining lifespan would barely exceed 10 minutes.

So in a normal environment and situation, I should cleanly give up on Gus, who could be replaced anyway, but…

To be honest, giving up in this situation would truly be the foolish act. There might be countless warhorses in the world, but ‘my’ Gus is the only one in my eyes.

A being that can’t even be considered for replacement, let alone substituted. Someone who occupied a significant portion of my world—in a sense, a close friend.

However, regardless of my personal feelings, Gus was dying.

There was almost no chance to save him in time. Clinging desperately wouldn’t change anything. Perhaps then, sending him off with proper respect would be the way to show reverence for Gus.

As I gazed at Gus with complicated emotions, tormented by the endless thoughts swirling in my mind, I heard the voice of the demon Meckilles—familiar, but neither pleasant nor welcome—in my ear.

[This is truly a sad situation, dear Maggot Duke.]

“…You!!”

What flowed from the mouth of the creature, with only its head remaining, was mockery and derision. While appearing to maintain courtesy, it openly conveyed contempt, so I drew my weapon, intending to kill Meckilles first and think later, but…

[Don’t you want to save your steed?]

-…I hesitated.

The moment those words left its mouth, I couldn’t say that my heart remained completely unmoved after hearing them.

Because Gus was, in fact, practically my only friend.