After being carried by the current for some time until it became almost nonexistent, making the flow of the water calm, Neale emerged from the bottom of the river, once again grabbing onto solid ground while still tightly gripping his long knife, which had broken during his fight with the beast.
After falling into the river, he had spun around so much that he could no longer tell where he was, but somehow it seemed that he had ventured much deeper into the forest. When he climbed out of the river, besides the icy sensation caused by the wind hitting his wet clothes and skin, a bitter taste filled his mouth.
It was probably caused by accidentally swallowing some of the blood from the winged BD-M. Looking closely at his body, he could tell that even the river's harsh water had failed to wash all that black blood from him. The wound on his shoulder also seemed to be getting worse as that icy sensation continued, growing more noticeable whenever the wind struck Neale.
After finishing wringing out his clothes and hair while still standing at the riverbank, his concern quickly turned to his backpack. As soon as he opened it, he saw his completely soaked, torn overcoat. He had spent so long inside that river that even his canteen seemed to have become a little fuller. Strangely enough, however, the diary appeared to be dry, with only the edges of its pages having become damp.
With that, Neale decided it was time to read the diary before he ended up losing it. This was a good opportunity to obtain some information, and perhaps the answers he needed were inside the diary in his hands. So he walked a little farther into the forest, putting some distance between himself and the river. As he walked, he looked at the trees as if searching for something among them, until one finally caught his attention. It seemed much taller than the others, with much thicker bark.
Having some difficulty climbing it, Neale became a little more certain that this was the tree he was looking for. Once he had climbed high enough, despite the difficulty, he could already see the river and everything surrounding it. He used one of the tree's branches to temporarily hang his wet clothes and backpack, but the diary remained in his hands.
The diary's cover appeared to be made of leather, and it seemed to be cracked in several places. It also had a dry appearance and carried the musty smell of something that had been stored away while wet, mixed with scents Neale could not even identify. The drawing on the cover was no longer very recognizable either. Neale could only tell that there was some kind of symbol that strongly resembled a fist, but that was all.
When he opened it, he once again saw the page containing the names of some of the soldiers. Now that he was looking more carefully, he noticed that directly beneath those names was also the name of the diary's owner.
Diary of O.M. Reports by: Jena L., Cristian M., and Nolan K. Command: F. Lázaro.
As soon as Neale decided to start reading, he noticed that the writing on the first few pages was calm, almost leisurely. As he continued toward the middle of the diary, however, the handwriting became increasingly hurried. Near the end, it calmed down again, only for all that urgency in the middle to be summarized by a single final word that Neale noticed only afterward.
Neale: Maybe I should start from the middle. The handwriting is rushed, so maybe it's something more important, and they didn't have much time to write... and the reports begin with...?
> Jena L: This time, I was the one who took the operations notebook, Jena. Though you probably already know my name from the other pages and from my name written at the end of each one. Oops, I'd better stop fooling around. The leader might get mad at me for using the notebook like this...
Neale: She seems pretty young, although I don't think you can really judge someone's age by their handwriting. But so far, she hasn't said anything useful. Did I start with the wrong person...?
At that moment, Neale was staring seriously at the diary as if he were staring directly at Jena herself while reading her reports.
> Jena L: We've been walking for a few days now since leaving the city of Kirden, heading toward Cinco-B. We even ended up passing through that other city. It's pretty weird. Anyway, we can't travel with mounts because they could obviously end up attracting the attention of any beasts nearby. We could run while using Justa Ira to make ourselves less tired, but I'm not very good at using my Justa Ira for long periods of time. Sorry about that, leader (^^;).
> P.S.: We're continuing in the direction opposite to where the sun rises during summer.
Neale: The useful information only came at the end...
Neale wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to react while reading Jena's reports.
Neale: Let's move on to the next one...
> Nolan K: This mission has already become pretty hectic, so to speak. I don't know much about the details since I was called in at the last minute. We started by leaving the city of Kirden on some good horses and headed to the city of Valerium, which would put us about four days closer to Cinco-B. Obviously, vehicles are only used by people more important than us, since they can't be used all the time because Justa Ira affects most electronic systems.
Neale: So there really is a city near this forest, in the direction opposite to where the sun rises. Finally, it looks like I'm getting some information.
> Nolan K: And to make things even stranger, this mission seems to have two leaders, Mr. F. Lázaro and this Lion from the House of Leonidas, whose name we don't even know yet. In the end, I just hope this mission ends soon without causing me too many headaches so I can go back home. I hope my wife is getting along well with our son. Just know that I'll be back soon...
> Cristian M: It's been some time since we entered this silent forest. The Lion always seems to keep a calm expression on his face, but at the same time, somehow I feel like he's alert to everything around him. It's almost as if he could read our minds. As for Mr. Lázaro, he seemed somewhat irritated with Jena because, due to her poor control, we constantly have to stop because of her exhaustion. At the same time, though, he seems to give her some advice.
> Cristian M: We suddenly had to wake up in the middle of the night. It seems the Lion sensed the presence of at least four BAN-Ms Minor Angelic Beasts, as if they were surrounding us. We ended up losing sight of the others, but the one we killed was larger than a dog, although it didn't look anything like one. Its skin was a silvery white, and its body seemed to be covered in scales that looked like glass or diamonds. Its entire body was also strangely cold. Its eyes were as golden as gold itself, and the two fangs protruding from its mouth were so white that they looked as pure as snow. Its tail strongly resembled the body of a porcupine. After this incident, we had to continue walking throughout the night, since something much worse could have been happening to the soldiers who were still at Cinco-B.
Neale: It seems the important information ends here. Even flipping quickly through the other pages of this diary, I don't see any other important words or anything that really stands out... Wait a second. Where are the leader's reports?
With this question pounding in his mind, Neale began flipping through the diary from the middle toward the beginning, searching for the mission leader's signature on some of the pages. His name wasn't at the beginning, though. So just when he thought there shouldn't be anything about him in there, a sudden spark of curiosity made Neale check the final pages of the diary.
And there they were.
Separated by two blank pages were the reports of Faustos Lázaro.
> F. Lázaro: I am in charge of this mission, and although I am a sergeant who receives missions directly from the Order, they still sent one of the soldiers from the House of Leonidas to supervise me and act as the mission's support. No matter how I choose to look at it, there is only one answer: I am only the leader on paper. But that isn't what concerns me. In my nearly thirty years as a sergeant, I have never seen a single soldier from the Order participate in missions assigned to the soldiers of Kirden.
> F. Lázaro: The only thing I know is that there was less than a week left before the soldiers stationed at Cinco-B were supposed to be replaced by others. But something happened, and communication with them was cut off without them realizing it. That's why this team was formed.
> F. Lázaro: The mission is to inspect Cinco-B and check on the condition of the soldiers, along with determining the reason for the loss of communication, before the replacements are sent. But there was already something wrong with this mission as soon as I was assigned to it, and my suspicions only grew after the announcement that the Lion would be joining the team. Starting from the weakest to the strongest, the mission's power levels were as follows:
Soldiers | Justa Ira / Lv. | Condition
Jena L. | White = 01 | High Justa Ira Quantity
Meriu
Cristian M. | Dark White = 02 | Stagnant
Nolan K. | Dark White = 02+ | Evolving
F. Lázaro | Yellow = 04 | Slow Evolution
Lion | Red = 13 | Balanced
Note: The numbers are only being used to illustrate the levels. Since my work will use the color-based system, these numbers will not appear again. They're only here to give you a more realistic idea of the characters' strength.
> F. Lázaro: Because this mission is taking place so close to the beginning of the Kidernia Academy term, I ended up being removed from the group of sergeants who would go to retrieve and receive the students who are turning or have already turned sixteen. That's what will happen before they are handed over to the Order. I had even helped decide which would be the final stop, but anyway, things always happen...
When Neale finished reading the reports and organized the important information in his mind, he was about to close the diary when he noticed that the final page seemed to be stuck to the cover. When he carefully peeled it away, he saw the word that perfectly summarized how that mission had ended.
The way the word had been written sent a powerful shiver down the back of his neck.
The word covered almost the entire page. It had clearly been written by hand, as evidenced by the tears in the paper, apparently caused by fingernails digging into it. It had been written aggressively across the page using the blood of one of those five people.
Still feeling that shiver at the back of his neck, Neale closed the diary.
He didn't seem willing to think about the fate of those people or what had brought them to such an end.
He then retrieved his clothes from the tree branches, tied his torn overcoat around his waist, and reorganized his backpack, this time placing the diary on top of the other things he was carrying.
As soon as he climbed down from the tree, his eyes immediately turned toward the sky. It was clearer now, and the clouds no longer seemed to be competing with the sun, which appeared to be marking the middle of the afternoon.
Neale: Since it's spring, then the direction opposite to where the sun rises during summer should be that way. It's time for me to find a way out of this forest.
Neale: I hope I can get out of here before nightfall.
He spoke to himself as he walked, feeling his shirt scrape against the cut on his shoulder.