Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The Mysterious Attackers
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Swoosh, shiiiish!
"Bebeto, easy does it!"
A shabby Sky Knight with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back.
With a two-person saddle fitted to Bebeto, he departed the Kirphone Aerial Squadron alongside Derbal.
'Russel, why are you crying like that.'
Russel, who had heard the news and sobbed in the dormitory room until her eyes were puffy.
The moment he opened the door and stepped in, she threw herself into his arms and bawled.
Russel, sniffling apologies and thanks.
He held her tight once, making that their farewell.
'I'll be back soon! Don't cheat on me—live well!'
After bidding Russel goodbye and stepping outside, Highness appeared right in front of him, plump and expectant.
And she tossed out one line.
"Oppa, I'll come find you soon. Watch out for water, watch out for dogs, watch out for blind orcs—especially watch out for pretty girls!"
Not even his mother, yet Highness rattled off a list of warnings.
Especially at the end, when she told him to watch out for women—her eyes seemed to shoot laser beams.
Flutter, flutter.
'Countess Ayrin, thank you!'
Not the black cloak of a trainee Sky Knight, but the red cloak signifying an official Sky Knight billowed in the wind.
After finishing his farewells, he arrived at Bebeto's hangar.
Ayrin and Rosero were waiting.
Wordlessly, Ayrin draped her own red cloak and black muffler over him.
'Sir Rosero, someday I'll buy you a proper drink.'
On top of that, Rosero handed over the black wyvern emblem symbolizing the Empire.
A fitting imperial mark to adorn Bebeto's brow.
Though he wore neither air plate mail nor wyvern guard mail, it looked the part.
'Admiral Yi Sun-sin sank hundreds of Japanese ships with just thirteen of his own. Ah, Kang Hyuk—even if I fly humbly through the skies today, soon I shall spread my majestic fame across this continent!'
Holding four reins in one hand, he faced the setting sun with dignity and swore his oath.
"Kayer-nim! I'm cold and hungry!"
Hot-blooded manly vows aside, pitiful Derbal's shout came from behind.
'Damn it...'
But reality was harsh.
He had soared stylishly away from Countess Ayrin and the Aerial Squadron with a cheery wave, but cold reality turned him and Derbal into penniless homeless vagrants.
'Other nobles will freak out seeing Bebeto, right?'
Freak out? No—they'd scorn him for sure.
Official dispatches and flights were supposed to earn welcomes from the lords of each territory.
But he and Bebeto were unwelcome guests.
He had no desire to leech off them like a beggar.
"Derbal! We get no peaceful rests! Even now, this is survival training in the wild—like real combat!"
"....."
No hearty "Yes, sir"—just Derbal's silent protest.
He'd do the same in his shoes.
The Kirphone Aerial Squadron, tomb of Sky Knights and wyverns alike.
Blame the wrong master.
'We're here.'
After about an hour of flight.
Roko Mountain came into view—a place a few hours' ride from the capital on horseback.
Roko Mountain, slightly rising amid the great plains that fed the imperial city.
Their appointed meeting spot.
Shiiiish.
He guided Bebeto—already adept at riding updrafts—down to the ground.
Splash!
Bebeto halted his wingbeats, unfurling black wings striped with gold, spanning over fifteen meters.
'Magnificent!'
The pristine Kaliyan Continent.
The sunset glowed pink tangerine.
Bebeto's black wings with golden stripes wove through the dusk like an emperor's golden cape adorning the skies.
Flap, flap, fla-flap.
As they neared the ground, Bebeto flapped to slow down.
'There they are!'
Several carriages at the base of Roko Mountain, toward the capital.
Just as instructed—covered in red tarps—he approached.
'Ten of them. Strong ones.'
A dozen figures from the Dark Merchant Guild, waiting by the carriages.
Unsure when he'd be kicked out, he'd ordered them to wait here starting the very next day.
"Who are they?"
Derbal peeked out and asked.
"For now, friends."
In life, who's purely foe or friend?
Helpful to him—they were friends. Otherwise, enemies.
Boom.
Startled.
The Dark Merchants flinched at the thud of Bebeto's massive body hitting the ground.
Even the stoutest hearts feared a full-grown wyvern.
'Huh? That woman's here too.'
The black cat woman who could star as a fetish film heroine just holding a whip.
She lounged seductively atop a carriage, watching them.
He released the safety straps and landed lightly.
"The goods?"
"Hehe. So impatient."
'Attractive, but too fierce.'
The black cat boasted provocative beauty.
But he hated fierce women.
Not like Countess Ayrin's crisp, bold courage—this was different.
"Busy."
"Really? Someone heading to the Plains of Death shouldn't be too busy... Hehehe."
The cat in black leather that showed everything worth showing when it needed to.
She approached with a saucy laugh.
"Derbal, dinner's over there."
A stew pot—likely what they'd eaten while waiting.
Loaves of bread sat nearby too.
"Oh ho, so this is the cursed wyvern raised by the Kirphone Aerial Squadron."
The black cat eyed Bebeto with interest.
'Huh? That guy!'
She approached Bebeto fearlessly, stroking his sturdy legs.
Yet Bebeto stayed calm—no rage or excitement.
Eyes half-closed, as if savoring the woman's touch.
'Damn, he knows pretty when he sees it.'
"Too bad—no armor to protect the wyvern's body."
The cat poked right where it hurt.
"Which is the spear?"
Ignoring her, he headed to the carriage.
Flash.
Mana rose from the men around the carriage.
"Hmph..."
"Idiots who can't spot Low Victory even as he paces back and forth."
"Make way. He's about to become a top-tier client."
Swish.
The men stepped aside at her word.
"Brought mounting gear as special service. Grateful, right?"
She winked, fishing for praise.
Rip.
Ignoring her, he tore off the red wrapping.
"B-Blessed Spear?"
Derbal's shocked cry.
"Only ones made by the Bazran Imperial Mage Tower. Nice and handy."
The cat's follow-up explanation.
'Now you're all dead!'
Sending him off on dispatch with no weapons—those shadowy bastards.
Good thing he'd invested his hard-earned blood money.
Swish—he picked up the leather holster for the saddle side.
Blessed Spears, thick enough to grip in a fist.
Twenty of them—a decent haul.
"Aww, why so rushed? Hehe. Night's just beginning... And I have info to share... Hehe..."
The cat purred, batting seductive eyes.
'Sis, I'm a minor?'
One line he couldn't voice to the cat woman.
Mess with him wrong, and it'd be juvenile protection law violation—straight to jail.
She seemed oblivious.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
"That bastard left?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Reports say he just took off from the Aerial Squadron."
"Heh heh heh..."
A vast room furnished with top-grade dwarf-made pieces, masterpieces and sculptures by continental artists, all harmoniously placed.
Bazran Empire's Crown Prince Poltbiran bared his teeth in a sleazy grin.
"He'll vanish without a sound before reaching the Foreign Aerial Squadron."
The sycophantic voice matched the Crown Prince's whims.
Nephew to the current Empress, Viscount Silbern—Poltbiran's in-law and right-hand man, who read his desires like a book.
"Kill him! Skin him alive, salt the body, make him die slow and agonizing! Kekeke."
Madness gleamed in eyes flickering at "kill."
Fresh from the palace, he'd been summoned by his father the Emperor and chewed out.
For striking Princess Aegis in front of nobles and knights.
'Abamama! I'll repay it soon. Everything you love in this Empire—I'll crush it all as I please!'
Crown Prince though he was, Poltbiran had grown under harsher scoldings than anyone.
Twisted rage toward his father burned within.
"And tonight... I've prepared the daughter of Baron Pashyan from last night's banquet."
"No issues?"
"Don't worry, Your Highness. Already squared with the baron."
"Silbern, only you truly understand me."
"I am honored, Your Highness."
Silbern had thoroughly soothed the Crown Prince's mood.
He bowed deeply at the praise.
To curry favor with the lecherous Crown Prince, flattery was key—he knew it well.
And for that flattery, when the Crown Prince became Emperor, Silbern would claim rewards beyond imagination.
Emperor of the Great Bazran Empire.
Just standing beside that name granted near-imperial power—Silbern knew it full well.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
'Tch, filthy sneaky bastards!'
Nobles and commoners reacting to Bebeto.
He hadn't expected welcomes, but this was beyond.
Following the map from his Aerial Squadron commission, heading to the Foreign Aerial Squadron.
Crossing mountains, fields, rivers—cities and villages appeared.
Every territory traversal brought cheerful Sky Knight welcomes.
But up close, spotting Bebeto's golden stripes—they paled like they'd seen ghosts and fled.
Commoners were worse.
At Bebeto's sight, they scattered in terror, heads bowed and trembling.
"Kayer-nim, fire's lit."
Derbal—who'd taken to camping—reported.
'Fish tonight?'
They'd settled by a large lake on the mountainside.
Land when tired, rest.
Grooo.
Bebeto lowed hungrily too.
'Easy on the chow. You'll break my back raising you.'
One meal took a whole pig for Bebeto to muster strength.
"Derbal, fetch more wood from those woods."
"Huh? Yes, sir."
He pointed to the forest, shooing Derbal off.
'Heh, fishing's my specialty.'
A week since leaving Kirphone Aerial Squadron—cross Neru Plains and the Ruul Mountains blocking the Empire, and destination reached.
He rose and approached the lakeside.
Clear, pristine water.
Carp-like fish occasionally splashed in the distance.
'3rd Circle Lightning should do.'
One spell in mind.
He rapidly gathered mana and neared the shore.
"Lightning!"
He cast toward the ten-meter front where fish leaped.
Flash!
A brilliant blue spell outshone the sun for an instant.
Boom~!
Zzzzzzzap.
The mana plunged into the water, unleashing electric energy waves everywhere.
"Bebeto, hunt time!"
Soon, fish would float belly-up.
No thought needed—he mounted Bebeto.
Flutter, fla-flutter.
Bebeto powerfully flapped and kicked off.
Whoom.
"Hup!"
The buoyant lift from the ground tingled thrillingly.
Fla-flutter.
Bebeto beat his wings hard.
Swoosh.
Raw power parted him from earth in seconds.
Whiiiish.
'Ah...'
The sky's pure blue winds, distinct.
He gulped crisp air through his visor into his lungs.
This mid-flight bliss.
Why sky-addicted Sky Knights couldn't live without it.
'That bunch looks good!'
A herd of deer scattering like startled rabbits at Bebeto's approach.
"Bebeto, get 'em!"
Grooooar!
A week's flights had bonded him tightly with Bebeto.
At his command, Bebeto dove like a swift eagle.
Shraaaaaap!
Like a steep-dive bomber, Bebeto's massive form plummeted.
'Waaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!'
Thrill beyond rollercoasters—he screamed gut-busting.
Kuaaaaaaaa!
Bebeto roared too.
Fleeing deer collapsed at his killing intent.
Thud!
Bebeto impaled two with razor steel talons.
Swoooosh.
Sharp U-turn skyward.
'One well-raised wyvern beats ten hounds.'
Bebeto's hunting prowess satisfied—meal secured.
Back to Earth, he'd take Bebeto for sure.
'Huh? What's that?'
Admiring Bebeto warmly, three dots approached from the Empire side afar.
'Sky Knights?'
Gray wyverns, unmistakably.
Imperial territory, but Ruul Mountains ahead—monster haunts, no settlements.
Yet three wyverns flew straight at him.
"Gah!"
Suddenly, lights flashed from the riders' hands.
Flash!
Short bursts erupted.
'Blessed Spears!'
"Bebeto, evade!"
Fla-flap-flap!
Startled by the shout, Bebeto reared and climbed.
'They're following!'
Blessed Spears—two-plus kils range.
In the blink, they traced gentle arcs after him.
"Bebeto, sideways!"
Bebeto instinctively max-flapped at the attack.
Each beat pulsed massive power.
Swoosh.
Mid-climb, Bebeto banked hard right.
Flash!
Three light trails streaked past like lightning.
'These sons of bitches!'
Rage boiled at the ambush.
And there—the three wyverns.
'Huh, no markings.'
Air plate and wyvern mage gear owners.
No affiliation emblems.
'Bandits?'
Rumors of big bandit or pirate groups owning wyverns.
'No—still Empire turf. Impossible.'
Swish.
Mid-thought, he spotted them readying second spears.
Range: one kil.
Blink-of-eye hit zone.
'Fuck! You're all dead today!'
Swish.
He yanked one from the right saddle holster.
Poured mana into the spear.
Flash-bam!
The three fired again.
Flash!
He hurled his at the lead center spear.
'Whoa! Feels like this!'
First spear launch—handfeel thrilled.
Mana infused, the spear glowed magically; thrown, it cleaved space faster than arrows.
Stretch—he grabbed two more.
Flash!
No wait—he fired at the remaining pair.
Shiiiiish.
'No dodging!'
Distance now 800 meters.
Spears blazed fiercely.
Hit deep in Bebeto—lethal for the unarmored wyvern.
He raised his hand.
Speed was key now!
"Spiral Tornado!"
5th Circle wind top spell—no staff needed.
Memorized for today.
Roooar.
A spiraling vortex of raging winds hurtled at spears mere dozens of meters away.
"Bebeto, charge!"
The three wyverns lightly climbed evading his spear.
Trusting the spell, he urged Bebeto forward.
Groooooar!
Bebeto—gutsy despite mortal peril—roared heavens-shaking, powering wings harder.
Boom-boom-boom.
Lucky—spears frontal, simultaneous.
Clashing Spiral Tornado, they veered and ricocheted.
"Summon Shuriel!"
Flash!
Silver wind spirit emerged from spirit-mortal realm gate.
"Bite that bastard!"
Not even a stray dog—yet he ordered the spirit to bite.
Whiiiish.
Instantly, Shuriel rocketed at the lead wyvern mid-casual evade.
Roooar!
Kiiiiieeeeeee!
No mithril bodyguard—Shuriel truly tore the wyvern's tough right wing.
The wyvern screamed earth-shattering agony.
Riders panicked at the spirit.
'Oy, dude!'
Loyal spirit actually biting per order—his head throbbed.
All in a heartbeat.
'What hunting dog is he? Why bite, damn it!'
Shuriel's faithful obedience to his command left him dumbfounded.
"Wind Arrow!"
One rider fired at Shuriel gnawing his ally's wing.
'You bastards don't deserve spears!'
Sudden killers targeting him and Bebeto.
Distance now: hundred meters.
Swish!
Right hand rose again.
"....!!"
Only now spotting him—the Sky Knights.
Assuming spears had killed him, they froze at his and Bebeto's swish-appearance.
"Heh heh heh! Ice Spear! Ice Spear, Ice Spear!"
Can't spam blood-money spears.
He chain-summoned 4th Circle stingers—plenty sting.
"Die, you dog bastards!"
Distance under 100 meters.
Wyvern wings too vast to dodge ice spears.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Three whooshes—ice spears flew at wings; riders fumbled for Blessed Spears.
Splat-splat-splat-splat!
4th Circle but infused with overflowing 5th mana.
Punched head-sized holes through thick wyvern wings.
Kiiiiieeee! Grooooo! Kraaaaa!
Three-wyvern chorus of screams.
"Not done yet, you fucks!"
Daring to kill kind-hearted lawless Kang Hyuk.
"Fire Lance! Fire Lance! Fire Lance!"
Master's gifted spells—effortless double-cast.
Riders struggled stabilizing writhing wyverns in pain.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
'Bible says: smite left cheek? Offer right too! Kekeke.'
Hot injections at unscathed opposite wings.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Grooo! Kiiiie! Keoooo!
Sweet screams again.
"Wind Spear! Wind Spear! Wind Spear!"
He cast till mana hole emptied.
Poor bastards.
Wrong place, wrong time today.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
'Mage!'
Baron Halbein, Sky Knight under Count Artman—dispatched covertly on lord's order to eliminate the hybrid wyvern.
Intel said untrained trainee.
But before him: battle-hardened combat mage, not trainee.
Thud!
Kuaaaaaaaa!
Ruthlessly blasting wyverns' wings with monstrous spells.
Already six holes riddled his beloved wyvern's wings.
'6—6th Circle mage!'
Blasting 4th Circle anti-wyvern spells nonstop.
4th Circle mage Halbein pegged foe at 6th.
Else, impossible to spam like that.
'Spirit mage nearby too!'
Plus sudden wind spirit Shuriel dog-biting a wing, unrelenting.
A ground spirit mage aiding him—certain.
Swoooosh.
Even tough wyvern wing leather—riddled holes crippled flight.
Not even Blessed Spear damage matched.
'Emergency landing!'
Wing wounds past limit.
Allies same as Halbein—sweating controlling faltering wyverns earthward.
"Umuhahaha!"
Devilish laughter buzzed through the foe's visor.
'Damn it!'
Baron Halbein regretted bad intel and lax assault.
But regret always comes too late.
Wyvern was a Sky Knight's life.
Lose it—no second chances ever.
Thud!
Kiaaaaaaaa!
Spell hit ten meters from ground.
Beloved wyvern's agonized scream tore Halbein's heart.
'You dog bastard!'
He glared.
At the evil devil leisurely spell-spamming his hunt.
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Boom! Thud!
Splatter. Splat.
Wing-holed wyverns emergency-landed, tumbling.
Wings couldn't bear weight—lucky ankles intact.
"Bebeto, land."
Riders took full crash impact tumbling off.
They writhed in pain.
Swoooosh.
Boom.
Spotless thanks to ace master—Bebeto landed softly on sprouting grass, victor's leisure.
'No Sky Knight cloaks, no house emblems on wyverns... Who sent them?'
Short time, but he'd made enemies galore at Sky Knight academy.
Couldn't guess the culprit.
'Who to ask?'
Unknown assassin irked his manly pride.
He hopped off Bebeto's rear, approached the cozily sprawled wyverns.
Grrrr...
Mid-pain, wyverns eyed him and Bebeto warily, growling.
Clang!
One Sky Knight drew sword atop wyvern.
Swoosh, clack!
"W-What are you doing! He's coming!"
Furious voice warned of his approach.
"Urk..."
Shaking off crash daze, Sky Knights leaped from wyverns.
'Gasp! Why's that guy still there!!'
Among leapers—one held mana staff over sword.
And amid them—a lone silver bird still death-gripping one wyvern's wing.
Puppy eyes sparkling expectant for praise.
'Yeah, good job. Great. Now return... Sigh.'
Summon bound spirit-minds.
So he praised and ordered dismissal.
Wag-wag.
Tail-wagging like a dog at praise.
Flash!
Vanished like mist.
"Y-You! Who are you!"
'Huh? Lines flipped?'
He should ask first—but mystery Sky Knight preempted.
"And who are you guys?"
He removed helmet, asked innocently.
"....."
Three answered with silence.
"Spit it out nicely. I'm in a bad mood."
Arm akimbo, he sneered sideways.
"Y-You cheeky trainee!"
'Trainee? Oh, they know me.'
"Words won't cut it."
Shing.
Still-favored Viscount Piyor knight sword.
"Grraa! I'll flay your flesh!"
Three hotheads lacking spice.
Eager to avenge pet wyverns.
"Go ahead, bandit knight sir."
Pitiful posturing.
"Tah!"
Two sword knights closed distance drawn.
"Binding!"
Waiting mage cast binding spell.
"Cancel! Binding!"
Peerless spell speed.
Mid-charge, nullified mage's—countered with his own binding.
Shraaaaa!
Knights for sure—but double-team from start.
Mana-blue blades aimed heart and groin.
'Hmph!'
Child's play vs. his Master spars.
Flash!
"Yap!"
Kicked off, airborne.
Swoosh!
Knight's sword grazed underfoot—head in sight.
Crack!
Midair right-foot smashed knight's helmet hard.
Thud!
"Hngh!"
Fallen knight—no scream; survivor gasped shocked.
No mercy.
He spun to the staggering foe.
Swoosh!
Knight swung instinctively.
Claaang!
Full-force parry.
Foe dropped sword from power.
Gap flashed—familiar taekwondo roundhouse.
Whiiish! Smack!
Foot smashed foe's jaw.
Clunk. Roll-roll-roll.
Helmet bounced far, rolling.
Grooooooo!
Kee, keeeee!
Wyverns went berserk—masters down like stunned frogs.
"Bebeto, stomp!"
Grooooooo!
Flap, flap, fla-flap!
Bebeto launched eagerly.
Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Steel talons mercilessly stomped grounded wyverns' beaks, bodies, wings.
'Whoa! Past-life fighting cock?'
Bebeto mimicked merciless master.
Trashed wyverns gleefully.
"Urgh..."
Top mage bound tight by his spell—immobile.
Eyes wide, groaning as his wyvern bled out.
'This'll teach 'em.'
"Bebeto, enough~"
Grooo, groooo.
Stress-relieved Bebeto sat, purring happily.
'Ruthless bastard.'
Wyverns half-dead like masters—blood trickling from beaks, faces, wings pale red.
One wing-broken, head-down panting.
'Monsters fed holy water grow red blood—true.'
Cursed monsters bled blue mostly.
Chosen wyverns bathed in holy water from egg—human-red blood.
"Cancel!"
"Y-You cruel bastard!"
Thud!
"Guh, guhk!"
Mage half-dazed.
Kicked his gut hard.
Air plate or not—powered kick overwhelmed.
Especially a mage—pain-weak.
"You try killing me—fair game; I rough you up—cruel? Writing novels? My affair's adultery, yours romance?"
"Hah... hngh. C-Can't... say."
Pain-wracked, mage knelt, gasping words.
"Fine, then don't."
Thud!
"Guhk!"
Full chin kick.
'Brats playing games.'
First aerial combat ever.
They underestimated—but close call otherwise.
'Must hit 6th Circle! Fast!'
Hated even by Crown Prince.
Survival meant power-up only.
'Deer duo and my blood-spears—gotta collect, right?'
Wyverns and knights strewn typhoon-wrecked.
"Heh heh heh..."
Dozens Blessed Spears stabbed in wyvern rears; priceless mithril guards.
Three official air plates—fit him fine.
'Money! Good-for-body tasty money!'
"Umuhahahahahahaha!"
Deep-chest laugh erupted.
Grooooooo!
Clueless Bebeto thrust beak skyward, joy-roaring heartily.
'Gonna be loaded soon?'
Sly thought struck.
Tour territories, squeeze rude Sky Knights for "tolls"?
Seeds of enemies sown Empire-wide surely sprouting...