STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

57. PATH OF NO RETURN

Of all places, Cale wanted them to meet him at the Path of No Return, a thick, foggy forest where people get lost and die never to be seen again.

"This is rough..."

South yawned.

After the weeks of treacherous hiking, here he is again, driving the carriage and taking care of the horses 24/7. He just wished he could get there faster so he could pawn off all this work to Coachman Leon. He didn't hate working, but a whole month with no time off (and no naps!) stretches his patience very thin, okay?

"I can take over, South," Vicross told him. He was riding the horse that Hillsman's should've been riding, but Hillsman was taking care of the children now inside the cart.

"Whuh?" South's exhaustion was at the level where he needed an extra moment to understand words. "No."

Lock was sleeping soundly in the carriage. South felt super jealous right now, but he wouldn't wish to switch places, the kid deserved it more than him.

They couldn't afford to rest until sunset. The weather wasn't looking good in the area they were crossing, so they wanted to get through the cliffs before it rained and got muddy.

"You were talking with the villagers until late last night too," Vicross frowned.

"I had to know the terrain," South yawned. "I'm the only coachman right now, after all. They said the road ahead is landslide prone. So I had to change the horseshoes, check all the equipment, and fix the wheels..."

South's eyes fluttered close and he went limp.

Vicross caught him before he went falling over to the other side.

With a sigh, Vicross hopped off his horse onto the coachman's seat, taking the straddles and regaining control of the carriage easily. With a glance at his horse, it slowed down and followed the group by the side even without a rider.

He sighed.

Pulling South closer so he could sleep with his head on Vicross' shoulder, they carried on as if nothing happened. The horses considered the situation, and didn't fluster at the change in driver either.

The horses were already so independent and well-trained because of South's efforts, but South still found ways to do more and overwork himself anyway. It's honestly troubling.

-

"I never thought the day would come where I wished he didn't take his medicine," Hillsman groaned at the sight of South hustling from one end of their campsite to the other.

He managed to coerce South into letting him brush Joycequine because she liked him better, but South still went on to care for all the other horses on his own. Vicross had his hands full with the kids, and Lock was on guard duty with Hillsman..

They really had the bare minimum of a team. All capable people, but still.

"It's about to rain, the weather's getting colder," Vicross said. "He'll have to take it anyway."

They had more than enough of those potions to last, but even the adrenaline high didn't last long after downing them consecutively. When they finally get back to Rowoon, South was going to crash hard.

"He's always so eager to sleep, but when he's actually given responsibility, he does it no matter what," Hillsman sighed. "He knows he can cut corners a little bit, right?"

It's as if South was foreign to the idea of actually protesting work.

-

Hillsman, Lock, and Mesh leapt out of the carriage the second they arrived, following Hans' guide to where Cale was waiting for them and the Absorbing Necklace.

Vicross stopped the horses and helped the rest of the children alight.

South, on the other hand, stared at Leon, eyes weighed down by dark circles— he raised a shaky thumbs up, and immediately fell back and off the coachman's seat.

Leon's terrified scream was so funny, but South instantly knocked himself out on the corner of the carriage as he fell, so he missed that opportunity to laugh.

-

"With how many high-grade potions I'm chugging daily here, I wouldn't be surprised if you've extended my lifespan and I live to become some kind of immortal sage because the potions just don't let me die," South grumbled. "That's how magic works in this world, right?"

Cale stared at him, and physically resisted the urge to retort.

Yeah. Realistically, taking excessive drugs shortens your lifespan. But since those potions are magic, taking so many of them effectively lengthens his life. It's still not healthy, though.

"I think it would be easier on both of us if you just had some necromancer or something resurrect me. I wouldn't have to deal with all this pain," South said. "Wait, do necromancers exist here?"

Cale wished this idiot would stop taunting the creative limitations of god's right hand.

"Just go back to bed already," Cale sighed, pulling on his raincoat. "By the time you wake up, the rain will have stopped."

"As if I could sleep in this heavy rain," South sighed. "The fog's making everything twice as humid and stuffy, too. I feel like I've just been thrown into a whirlpool and left in there until I'm all separated by material density!"

"Centrifugal force," Choi Han blurted out, the long-forgotten high school student somewhere inside him reemerging with that particular trivia carved into his brain matter due to excessive memorization.

(Cale wondered if he casually whispered 'what's the mitochondria' at him Choi Han's tongue might react instinctively with 'powerhouse of the cell!!' like a PTSD reaction long-buried in his soul.)

Cale groaned, "Vicross, knock him out."

"—whUH?!"