Chapter 54
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Northern Expedition - 3
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Thankfully, Sylvia had sweet-talked the Sole Tribe into letting us use their sleds like our own personal rides.
"Phew... finally, a break."
The exhausted group seized the moment to rest atop the sleds.
"Sian, you should rest too."
"I'm fine, Sylvia. Besides, since we might not get another chance to visit the north, I want to learn about these sleds while I can."
"Honestly... you've got way too much stamina, Sian."
Mother-in-law? That's way too ambiguous. Everyone else in the expedition is a woman besides me.
"We're almost there."
"Already?"
Sure enough, personal transport beat walking. But at this speed, I wouldn't have time to analyze the sleds.
"This is Vivian's homeland, right?"
We headed first to Vivian's tribe, the Molar Tribe.
With our group's strength, we couldn't take on the Frost Claw Tribe in a full-frontal clash with just a small elite force. The plan was to ally with other tribes and build the Molar Tribe into a counterweight against them.
But the Frost Claw Tribe turned out to be even more brutal than we'd imagined.
All that greeted us at the spot Vivian had described were the scars of a brutal war and the corpses of warriors not yet buried.
No one spoke amid the gruesome scene, but Vivian opened her mouth casually, as if it were nothing.
"Looks like everyone's holed up somewhere else."
"Got it. Let's move on."
We quickly pressed forward, respecting Vivian's attempt to play it cool.
Just before nightfall, we found the Molar Tribe's temporary camp.
"Vivian?"
"The chieftain's eldest daughter, Vivian?!"
"Big sis Vivian!"
From Sylvia's translations, it seemed Vivian held a decent position within the Molar Tribe.
A massive man with severe wounds approached her. His body bore no unscarred spot from recent fierce combat.
"Vivian, why have you returned here?!"
"Chieftain, I've come back for revenge on our tribe."
"Revenge be damned! *Cough cough*... Damn it."
"Father!"
The man who appeared to be Vivian's father, the chieftain, tried to bellow at her but ended up vomiting blood—likely due to wounds worse than he'd thought.
"Let me take a look."
Seeing this, Helen pulled out her Holy Kingdom emblem and approached the chieftain. Though some in the Molar Tribe bristled at outsiders, Sylvia and Vivian talked them down.
"Helen, you know medicine?"
"A fair bit. And I'll try a miracle too."
"Is that possible?"
"Sadly, I can't achieve full recovery like the followers of Goddess Sunna of the Sun. But I can infuse some vitality."
"Alright then. Teach me. I'll help out."
"Understood. But be careful—this miracle draws on a subdivided domain under Hestia, so it can mentally exhaust you."
"Got it. I'll watch myself."
After hearing Helen's explanation a few times, I visualized the image she'd described and prayed to Goddess Hestia as instructed.
"Gentle flame, nurture the lamb before you."
The miracle manifested as a hot energy in my hand, then flowed into the chieftain.
"Guh!"
But why was he groaning like that? I was just passing on vitality.
"S-Sian! The miracle's too strong!"
"Oh, yeah? Hang on... is this enough?"
"Still too strong! Dial it back to one-hundredth!"
"One-hundredth? Okay."
"Ugh... it's weaker, but I still can't see a difference."
"..."
I nearly caused a medical incident trying to save the patient.
"Phew... we've passed the crisis."
True to her word about her medical knowledge, Helen treated the Molar chieftain with her supplies, and I assisted from the side.
Helen wiped the sweat beading on her forehead and asked me,
"Are you alright, Sian? Most would be exhausted from chaining miracles like that."
"Not really? I feel fine."
"As expected of a hero—stamina for days."
Camilla, who'd been standing guard nearby, chimed in out of boredom. I wanted to smack her.
"And who might you all be?"
Once he'd recovered enough, the chieftain asked about us. Shouldn't gratitude come first after being healed? I was a bit annoyed, but unlike me, Helen didn't seem to mind.
"We're from the Holy Kingdom."
"The ones who scour the continent for God's will? Sorry, but we have no interest in foreign gods."
"We're not here to proselytize. We've come to resolve the northern conflicts and retrieve the legacy of an outer god in the snow mountains."
The chieftain looked momentarily flustered at Helen's continued explanation but soon gathered his thoughts and stated his position.
"I've heard you out. I'm grateful for healing me, the chieftain, but we lack the strength to aid you."
"Father!"
"And Vivian! Why did you come back here? You didn't leave Becky and Bessie abandoned in foreign lands, did you?!"
"I left them in a trustworthy village. And..."
As the father-daughter argument heated up, I quietly slipped back. Best not to meddle in family affairs.
"I've brought a man worthy of serving."
"???"
But then Vivian hooked her arm through mine and pulled me forward. Hey, Vivian? Why drag me into this when I was staying out of it?
And blushing while saying that? Her dad's gonna misunderstand.
"What?!"
"Sylvia, tell him it's a misunderstanding. Vivian and I aren't like that."
"I'd love to, but he doesn't look like he's in the mood to listen."
Sure enough, the chieftain—now misunderstanding from his daughter's words—glared at me like he wanted to kill me.
"You bastard! If you want Vivian as your wife, beat me in a duel first!"
"No, wait..."
Don't go zero to a hundred, old man.
"Beat me, *cough cough*!"
You're supposed to be the patient...
...
The Molar Tribe had a secret technique passed down through generations.
It involved engraving a unique curse onto the axes that served as their "molars."
"A curse?"
"That's right. On the axe I wield."
"Ah, the one where the thrown force bounces back double, right?"
"Exactly. And if you keep throwing it, the force amplifies exponentially."
In a way, Vivian's weapon was a double-edged sword. One slip, and it could kill her.
Yet the entire tribe wielded such weapons. No wonder they lost to the Frost Claw Tribe.
"When our tribe reaches adulthood, we must prove ourselves warriors by throwing and catching the original molar over there."
"That's one hefty, crude double-bladed axe."
It looked like something you'd fight with two hands. How did they even throw it?
Your hands would get shredded catching that thing.
"I caught it three times. My father the chieftain managed four. The tribe's record is five."
"What happened to the record holder?"
"Dead. Died in the war with the Frost Claw Tribe, unable to catch the returning axe."
"..."
In a sense, what an impressive tribe.
What kind of thrill-seeking made them use weapons like that?
"Scared? Give up then. Outsiders lack our courage."
The chieftain's words left me dumbfounded.
"That's not courage—that's idiocy."
"?"
Sylvia couldn't bring herself to translate my jab at their tradition and hurriedly changed the subject to divert the chieftain's attention.
I approached the black double-bladed axe slowly. Camilla offered advice from beside me.
"Judging by the color, it's made of black iron, a mineral dwarves love. Tougher than steel by double, but three times heavier. You'll need to pace your stamina."
"Mind your own business."
I ignored Camilla's pointless advice and hefted the axe—handle and all made of black iron.
Then I looked at the chieftain and said,
"If I beat your record, the whole tribe obeys me, right?"
"Sure. Not that it'll happen."
"No backing out later. Swear on the tribe's honor."
"I swear on the Molar Tribe's honor."
"Good."
With his promise confirmed, I hurled the axe with all my might. Trees in its path began toppling.
"Nice weight—flies far."
I reached out toward where the axe flew, and amazingly, it returned just like Vivian had demonstrated.
"Danger—"
"Don't worry."
Dismissing Vivian's concern, I caught the returning axe cleanly.
Once I passed five throws, the chieftain's eyes bulged. At six,
Krunch!
"Hm?"
Something felt off.
And on the seventh—the grand finale—the cursed axe blade began cracking and shattering upon return, leaving only the handle in my hand.
No one could say a word.