Chapter 106
Chapter 106
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: Can't Eat It, But Still Great!
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'No need for a picture.'
The first snow had fallen, followed by days of lingering patches and heavy blizzards.
The vast, open Neruman Plains offered nothing but a blanket of pure white snow to stir the senses.
But the moment we entered the northern reaches, at the border between the Rual and Ritor Mountains, I couldn't stop gasping in awe at the grand epic crafted by Mother Nature.
Not just one canvas, but dozens, hundreds—mountain ranges of snow captured in endless frames.
Snowflakes piled high on bending branches, shyly revealing their pristine nakedness under the rising sun.
Whiiiiiing.
The biting winds heralding winter played their part.
Whenever the gales raged, snow from the peaks cascaded down, adorning the sky with silver rainbows.
The seven blessings of sunlight refracted through the flying flakes drew viewers into overwhelming emotion.
'This is Temir territory from here on.'
Lost in the profound emotion, I realized we'd already delved deep into the mountains.
An hour's flight from the northern fortress of Orak Castle.
This was the domain of the Temir tribe, hardy warriors who had thrived within the range.
Kuo oooooooo!
Not some dung-loving mutt thrilled by snowfields, yet Bebeto howled excitedly the entire flight.
He reveled in winter flight with his signature cry.
"How much farther?"
Kantahar clung tightly to my back, wearing an air plate.
"Just a bit more, sir! Once we cross that big mountain ahead, you'll see the flatlands! That's where our tribe is!"
He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
'The mountains aren't all there is.'
My first time in the border region between the Rual and Ritor Mountains.
Scattered basins dotted the landscape, with traces of farming here and there.
'Surviving amid monsters—impressive.'
Against the white snowscape, monster packs stood out starkly.
Orcs, starving ogres, trolls, and gnomes roamed the mountains in groups.
Yet the Temir race endured here.
Their environment was harsher than Neruman's.
Shiiiiiik.
Bebeto caught the north wind in his wings and soared upward.
He effortlessly crested a massive sub-peak in one go.
His flight skills improved daily, no lessons needed.
A clever kid(?) who handled things on his own.
'Oh ho, there it is.'
Beyond the peak lay a sudden, broad basin.
A valley about a kilometer across at the mountain base.
A sturdy wooden palisade of stone and timber encircled it.
Inside bustled the Aishin tribe, Kantahar's people.
Dong dong dong dong dong!
Spotting the sudden arrival of Bebeto, warriors in wooden watchtowers pounded drums wildly.
"Karukao.....!"
"Kukai....."
They shouted unintelligible words, pointing at me and Bebeto, then hundreds of warriors climbed the palisade, bows trained on us.
Despite the cold, some had stripped off their upper garments.
'Eesh, not even a fistful of fight in 'em. Tsk tsk.'
I'd heard the basics from Kantahar already.
Among Temir tribes, they ranked weak, settling nearest Neruman.
They guided invasions for other tribes, provided the most labor, and survived that way.
Even in the recent raid on northern Heighton Village, they'd sent over half their nonexistent warriors.
They had no choice under threats from other tribes and the Grand Shaman's orders.
By my standards, the Aishin tribe's forces were laughable—one spell would end them.
A tribe without wyverns, how could they stop Bebeto and me?
Shwish shwish shwish!
But they showed no fear.
As Bebeto flew low, Aishin warriors unleashed arrows like they'd been waiting.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
Bebeto's hide, tough enough for mana blades, deflected them all.
Kuo oooooooo oooooooo oooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!
Irritated by the nuisance, Bebeto unleashed a roar that shook heaven and earth.
"Kutaba... legs!!!"
"Uwaaaaaah!"
Startled by the deafening cry, as Bebeto dove like he was targeting them, warriors smashed their heads into the fortress floor or hurled themselves below to flee.
'Train your falcons better. Tsk tsk.'
No need for me—Bebeto handled it cleanly.
"Head to the central clearing, sir. That's where my father, the chieftain, resides."
Kantahar pointed to the center, voice laced with sorrow at his fleeing tribesmen.
Flap, flap, fla flap flap.
Guiding Bebeto, I slowly descended before the largest log house in the village clearing.
Tadadadadak.
As Bebeto landed, warriors encircled us, weapons drawn.
Eyes filled with fear, yet undimmed fighting spirit—good eyes.
"Kantahar!"
Clack—spotting Kantahar open his helmet, Temir warriors cried his name in shock.
"Kantahar!!"
Murmur murmur.
The Aishin tribe buzzed at Kantahar's sudden return.
Adults and children gathered, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
'All told, not even 2,000 souls.'
I'd expected a small tribe, but this was even fewer.
Barely 500 fighting warriors, yet surviving in this monster haven—how could I not marvel?
Without wyverns or special weapons, no less.
"Quaia!"
'Hmm?'
I turned at the mana-infused shout.
Everyone fell silent at "Quaia," revealing the speaker's status.
'The chieftain.'
A man around 190 cm, broad shoulders draped in beast hide, gripping a jewel-encrusted spear.
Mid-40s, but brimming with youthful vigor.
"Apirio!"
Kantahar dropped to one knee as the chieftain appeared.
"Lugebadiya! Ashira.....!"
The chieftain jabbed a finger at Kantahar, voice thick with rage.
Pabat.
The air turned murderous in an instant.
'Sheesh, if only I could understand.'
Master's vast knowledge held no Temir tongue.
The pompous Gandalf cared little for "barbarian" languages.
"Atipaiya... Rakishi....."
Kantahar, kneeling, pointed at me through tears under his father's fury.
He pleaded hoarsely with the chieftain.
'Are you the lord of Neruman?'
'Oh? Speaks the common tongue?'
The chieftain's gravelly, iron-scented voice asked if I was Neruman's lord.
"Indeed. I am Kaiyer de Neruman, Count of Neruman."
No situation to cower—I stood tall, declaring my name.
"Hmm....."
The chieftain furrowed his brow at my words.
"Father, you must believe me. Lord Kaiyer here is unlike any imperial noble we've met. From watching closely, his honor is as unyielding as that sacred rock over there. He granted our captured warriors three meals a day, warm clothes, and beds. He trusted my word and came to our tribe. Please, O first-born son before the sacred rock, Chieftain of Aishin—believe me and take Lord Kaiyer to Rokoloiya, mother of all kin. We can't live like naked ants anymore—not our tribe, nor all Temir!"
Kantahar persuaded his father in the common tongue, for my sake.
"I can't believe you. Neruman has spilled rivers of our blood. How can I lead the enemy chief to our noble kin's mother? One misstep, and her wrath dooms us all beyond the Arakiki River."
The chieftain showed fear toward the tribe's mother, the Grand Shaman.
'How badly did she beat them to brainwash like this?'
Rokoloiya, the Grand Shaman, reincarnation of the tribe's mother—why else would this sturdy chieftain tremble at her name?
I wanted to meet her.
"Father, look! Just years ago, we overflowed with over 2,000 warriors—what's this now? Can we survive this winter with these numbers? Would other tribes mourn our passing? Father, make a wise choice. Without this Neruman lord's aid, our tribe has no future."
Kantahar pled like spitting blood.
The hot scent of a tormented young man's anguish wafted from him.
"If it's... the will of Harmain, father of all things....."
'The tribe's mother this, father of all that—what's their deal?'
Temir culture, complex and unknown.
'Tch, still people living here.'
Different race didn't make them inhuman.
Humans with torsos, limbs, senses, and wisdom to think.
Here stood frail women and wide-eyed innocent children aplenty.
We'd spilled blood in war days ago—but that was adults' choice.
Smiling kids waving at me shook my heart.
"Huhu, funny. If you die and it's not Harmain's will, then what? If his will is protecting the tribe at all costs, why spout defeatism? I thought you lot swarming Neruman meant fierce spirits—instead, cowards through and through."
"What, what did you say!!"
A sneer and slight jab ignited the chieftain's fury.
"Didn't you say it? If Harmain wills it, even orc dung for breakfast is fine..... Tsk tsk! Wanna die alone, fine—but as chieftain, dragging those kids down too? Some leader."
I muttered like to myself, stabbing at his heart.
"You gnome! Daring to call me, first-born before the sacred rock, coward! Draw your sword! In the tribe's name, I'll tear your corpse apart!!"
Chiriring!
No sooner said, his spear sliced air toward me.
"You'll regret it....."
Once I played the villain, I committed.
I flashed a smug bastard's grin, hand to my sword.
Paaat.
'Ho, handles mana well.'
Like a mana blade on sword, he infused his iron spear with mana.
Solid stance.
"Dumbara!"
"If I win, what then? If you win, I'll yield my lordship."
"If you win, I'll be your slave for life!"
'Haha, hooked!'
The mood twisted to duel; my "lord" bait drew his "slave" retort.
My fishing skill neared mastery.
Clang!
Sword drawn.
Wiiiing.
Masterwork from the dwarf chieftain responded instantly to mana.
"Tat!"
Sword out, he launched like gale, spear whipping.
Piririring!
'Wow! Spears are this cool?'
The sturdy black-iron spear bent like a lie.
No—blinding speed left afterimages mimicking curves.
Kagagagagang!
Thrust-focused, but with dual edges small as dinner knives at the tip.
I parried the fierce thrust easily.
Different feel from knight duels.
Unpredictable, power-packed spearplay met my swordplay.
"Utaka! Utaka!"
"Kiooooooo!"
Unknowing Aishin tribesfolk cheered and howled as duel began.
Born warriors, blood heated by combat.
'No more tricks?'
Pibibibibibing.
Upper knight-level mana, swordsmanship—after dozens blocks, his bottom exposed.
"Tat!"
I roared full force.
Wiiiing.
Roar-activated mana hole doubled my blue blade's length.
Kwaaang!
"Aak!"
Whiririririk, thwack.
That ended it.
Full swing sent his spear flying into the dirt.
"Kuhk....."
Chieftain winced, hand torn by recoil.
.....
Tribesfolk fell silent instantly.
Sling.
Done sword sheathed smoothly.
"Ki... kill me."
Chieftain dropped to knees.
"F-Father!"
Kantahar, still kneeling, rushed in shock.
'Who do you think I am, executioner?'
No needless blood on my blade.
Never had, never would.
"Let's talk again. Chieftain of Aishin, first-born before the sacred rock."
I addressed the broken man, hostility shattered.
Rokoloiya, tribe's mother.
I wouldn't leave till meeting that witch.
'Tch, now that I think—haven't eaten!'
Rushed off, skipped breakfast and lunch.
Day's fresh schedule shattered.
Before seeing wicked witch Rokoloiya, no choice but to push on starving.