Chapter 295: The Tigerfolk

Wu Qingsong and Nina had just returned from the underground world. If an insectoid settlement had emerged on the surface, they would have known.

Moreover, before descending from the mountain, they had sent their undead to scout the area. It was impossible for such information to escape their notice.

The tigerfolk who had just returned from the forest likely saw the undead Wu Qingsong had left in the woods. But this wasn’t something he could let these tigerfolk find out. Wu Qingsong quickly issued a command for the undead to retreat back into the crevice while he and Nina followed the tigerfolk into the village, feigning vigilance against the supposed threat.

Nina, appearing strong and capable, was handed a spear and sent to protect the women, children, and elderly. Wu Qingsong looked more frail and was given a hunting bow and stationed as a lookout on the roof of the tallest house.

Wu Qingsong found the situation somewhat exasperating but had no choice but to comply, even if it meant temporarily parting from Nina.

Fortunately, the tigerfolk later found him a slightly oversized deerskin jacket. He noticed that Nina had also been given a deerskin skirt to wear.

The tigerfolk’s actions had a somewhat military air, but they were ultimately civilians, lacking discipline and resolve. As night fell and no insectoids appeared, most of the tigerfolk began to relax.

Sertans, the elder tigerfolk who appeared to hold considerable authority, insisted on maintaining vigilance. But many of them didn’t take the situation seriously.

“Sertans thinks everything he sees is an insectoid,” muttered the young tigerfolk who had earlier mocked Wu Qingsong. “If there really were any, they’d have attacked by now. He probably just made a mistake again.”

“Well, staying cautious doesn’t hurt, does it?” said another young tigerfolk.

The village had only about ten tigermen across its seven or eight households, all of whom were familiar with one another. Wu Qingsong, as an outsider, felt awkward among them. He pretended to watch the distance while quietly eavesdropping on their conversations.

In such a remote mountain village, the tigerfolk mostly discussed hunting, crafting weapons, favorite foods, strength contests, and archery skills. Their topics were mundane, but Wu Qingsong managed to glean some useful information.

They were likely in the southern mountain ranges of the continent. Although there were no nearby insectoid-infested areas, to the southwest, past a snow-covered peak they called the Clitharal Mountain, lay the Gate of Galos. To the west, farther away, was the Gate of Sarkas.

The tigerfolk were familiar with insectoids and the devastation of insectoid swarms. However, it seemed that only Sertans had firsthand experience fighting them, having served in the Empire’s regular army and fought insectoids at the Gate of Galos.

The young tigerfolk who defended Sertans was likely his apprentice, learning fighting skills from him. While most villagers respected Sertans, as the night dragged on without any insectoid sightings, their seriousness waned.

Two older tigerfolk returned to check on their homes, and soon after, the rest began slipping away one by one. Eventually, only Wu Qingsong, Sertans, and three younger tigerfolk, including the one named Bari, remained.

“My name is Wu,” Wu Qingsong introduced himself, breaking the monotony as the others began to eye him curiously.

“I’m Bari,” said the young tigerfolk. “Where are you two from?”

“Esola,” Wu Qingsong replied.

Nina was likely facing similar questions among the tigresses. Since they hadn’t prearranged a cover story, telling the truth seemed safest. After all, these tigerfolk were unlikely to visit Esola, and Wu Qingsong had no plans to stay here long.

“Esola?” Bari seemed unfamiliar with the name.

“It’s a mountainous region north of Riniconia,” Wu Qingsong explained.

“Oh, I remember now!” another tigerfolk exclaimed. “Didn’t Esola face an insectoid swarm a few years ago?”

“Yes, it did,” Wu Qingsong said. “But over the past two years, the surviving insectoids have mostly been eradicated.”

“What kind of insectoids did you encounter?” Bari asked, clearly fascinated.

“Mostly antfolk, along with some spiderfolk, mitefolk, and beetlefolk,” Wu Qingsong replied.

After spending so much time isolated with only Nina and a horde of undead for company, Wu Qingsong felt an overwhelming urge to talk. So, he began recounting tales of the Esola defense, presenting himself as a common soldier.

These events had occurred long ago, but with his enhanced mental abilities, Wu Qingsong could recall even the smallest details.

His vivid descriptions captivated the tigerfolk. Before long, even those who had sneaked away earlier had returned to listen.

“So, you only survived thanks to Marquis Osaga’s timely arrival?” said the sharp-tongued tigerfolk, Lanney.

“Lanney!” Bari snapped. “Considering the circumstances, they did remarkably well.”

“You were already using firebombs back then?” Sertans, who had been quietly listening while keeping watch, asked from nearby.

“That Lord Tagraedi sounds incredible!” Bari exclaimed. “What happened after that?”

Wu Qingsong was unfazed by the praise and continued calmly, “Marquis Osaga recommended Lord Tagraedi became a lord himself, tasked with overseeing the northern hills of Esola to prevent another insectoid resurgence. Many mercenaries and hunting groups poured into the region and quickly eliminated the remaining insectoids.”

“If I get the chance, I’d love to become a hunter myself,” Bari said dreamily.

“With your skills?” Lanney scoffed. “Give me a break! Every story focuses on the survivors, but what about the ones who didn’t make it? Didn’t you hear him say that out of tens of thousands in Esola Hills, only a few hundred survived? Thousands of fools like you leave home every year to become mercenaries, but how many come back whole? Most don’t even survive their first year.”

“You’re no fun!” Bari retorted, frustrated but unable to argue. He angrily threw down the half-finished arrow shaft he had been working on.

“I’m just saying the truth.”

Wu Qingsong shook his head slightly.

“You’re no warrior,” Sertans said, suddenly sitting beside Wu Qingsong. “You’re not strong enough. The way you hold that bow is all wrong, too, you’re no archer. Maybe you were part of the Esola defense, but you’re not the person you claim to be.”

“Who are you, really?” Sertans asked quietly.