Porti was a big city. It was a business city that placed the greatest importance on logistics, so its roads were well-polished and clean. Although the roads weren’t made from stones or gravel, the tidied dirt road was wide and stretched far across the city.
Of course, no matter how wealthy the city was, it couldn’t have set all the roads. As they walked farther away from the city, the road gradually grew rougher. The ground became bumpy, and little pieces of stone and sand stubbed their feet more frequently. Soon, resilient weeds and bushes began to invade their path.
A person was breathing extremely roughly; the breathing was too intense for walking on a road, even if the roads were getting rougher. It almost seemed as if the person was exaggerating his breaths to demonstrate his struggle.
This person was Hans. If a person in front of him kept breathing and making sounds as Hans did, Zich thought no one would blame him for throwing a rock at the person’s head and cracking it.
Hans dragged his shaking legs and shouted, “S-Sir Zich!” He was exhausted enough to bite his tongue by mistake.
“Don’t you think we’ve made enough progress, sir?”
The look on Hans’ face could’ve stirred up sympathy in anyone’s heart, but to Zich, it was useless.
“You can endure it a bit more. Stop being a crybaby.”
“I-I think I will really die!”
Hans’ joints cracked, his muscles seemed to scream at him to stop, and his clothes were drenched in sweat. Zich stopped his steps and walked in front of Hans. His movements were light as a feather.
In comparison, Hans looked ridiculous. Thick metal chains were tied to his arms and legs, and heavyweights dangled from every part of his body. Hans was bound to feel tired even on a sleek, smooth road with all the extra weight he carried.
Zich stroked his chin and looked at Hans, who looked as if he was about to die. Hans hoped that Zich might take some of these iron chains off of him and exaggerated his expression.
Zich grabbed Hans’ arms and squeezed them a couple of times.
“Your muscles can still afford to do more. It’s fine. Just endure for a bit longer.”
With those words, Zich walked back to the front again; and as if the world was ending in front of him, Hans squirmed in despair. Hans was only relieved of his suffering when Zich stopped to set up camp.
“I-I am going to die!”
Hans slumped down to the dirt ground. He didn’t need a blanket or a cushion. Even if the ground below him was hard and uncomfortable, he wanted to lie down forever. Happiness surged his heart, and Hans felt like no splendor or spectacle could give him the happiness he felt at the moment.
However, this happiness didn’t last long.
“What are you doing?”
Demon Lords from storybooks would have sounded like this voice, and in surprise, Hans rose like he was giving an offering to the Demon Lord.
“We have to make camping p
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