Chapter 162
Chapter 162
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Trap
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Though humans were largely unaware of it, locating human settlements was no great feat for the Ollmu.
The Ollmu had reigned as overlords of the underground world for ages untold, and in doing so, they had mastered countless ways to track their prey.
By pinpointing the site of an attack on their own kind, they could roughly map out human territory, then dispatch numerous scouts to comb every trace until they uncovered signs of human activity. It wasn't difficult at all.
From the Ollmu perspective, humans were clumsy, noisy creatures—lacking the bright eyes or keen ears to navigate the dark. When the two races crossed paths, it was almost always the Ollmu who spotted the enemy first.
Once they detected humans, the Ollmu refrained from immediate attack, instead tailing them cautiously to pinpoint their lairs.
In the past, the Ollmu hadn't pursued humans with such relentless precision for one simple reason: overhunting would prevent wild humans from breeding in sufficient numbers.
Lately, they had held back for another: fear of the thunderous monster, a behemoth that could slaughter dozens even when they swarmed it.
It was telling that mighty Ollmu heroes, terrified of encountering the beast mid-hunt, had shamefully shoved the assault onto one another.
But now, with a hero arisen to stand against that monster, the Ollmu could hunt humans without fear.
“Kyaaak!”
“Run!”
“Call for reinforcements!”
Human screams mingled with the triumphant roars of the Ollmu, echoing through the caverns.
They had found a human settlement and blasted through its walls with explosive relics before launching their assault.
This outpost was lightly defended—most of its knights and warriors had joined the allied forces battling the Ollmu elsewhere—and thus stood no chance against the raid.
Even if they had remained, the overwhelming disparity in strength meant they'd only add a few more corpses to the pile.
“You bastards!”
Rakishi, the settlement's sole defender left behind to guard it, swung his twin hand axes against the Ollmu horde.
Despite their numerical superiority, he held his ground with valor, masterfully exploiting the terrain around him.
Specifically, he used an enormous house to his advantage, darting through narrow corridors and windows like a seasoned hunter, carving through foes.
He even managed to slay an Ollmu hero with a surprise attack amid the chaos—a truly formidable display.
After severing the necks of three Ollmu thrashing beneath a fallen curtain from the ceiling, Rakishi steadied his battle-heated breaths.
Then, an Ollmu hero appeared before him.
‘What the hell is that one?'
It was slightly larger than the average Ollmu, but ordinary in build for a hero specimen.
Yet strings of rare gems—uncommon even in these depths—adorned its form, lending it an air of distinction.
Arsen might have scoffed at the gaudy display as some miser's farce, but the guardian had no room for mockery now.
Well-developed muscles and countless scars, unhidden even by the jewels, attested to its battle-hardened experience.
The Ollmu posed a question.
“What's your name?”
Asking an enemy's name right before them.
Flustered by the abrupt query, Rakishi nonetheless replied cautiously, buying time.
Unbeknownst to him, his voice had already shrunk, cowed by the foe's aura.
“Rakishi.”
“Rakishi. Good. Now that I know the name of the one who dies, I should reveal the name of the one who kills. I am Myushu.”
Myushu declared with finality, gripping a blade curved like a crescent moon. Rakishi, who had spent his life underground, of course knew nothing of moons.
'Strong!'
A chill raced up his spine like an electric current—a premonition of doom.
Sensing death imminent, Rakishi roared and charged.
Or rather, he feigned a charge before swiftly kicking a nearby piece of furniture toward the enemy's face.
As he did, he pressed a concealed button, activating a mechanism: spears erupted from the wall, targeting Myushu.
“Die!”
Simultaneously, he unleashed an uppercut-like axe swing from below.
It was a fierce strike on its own, made deadlier by chaining it with the trap.
Yet the veteran Ollmu retreated without a flicker of alarm, deflecting both spear and axe with ease.
His movements were those of a true master.
Rakishi refused to yield, swinging the axe in his other hand for a follow-up, but it too came to naught.
Myushu casually tilted his head—as if dodging a child's flailing—evaded it, then countered with a kick to Rakishi.
“Guhk...”
Even blocking hastily with his arms, Rakishi flew several meters back, slamming into the wall.
Something surged up from within; his internals were badly damaged. With no mage to heal him, survival was impossible.
After vomiting a gush of blood, Rakishi glared at his foe, determined to lash out one final time before death.
Conveniently, the enemy extended a finger toward him, as if issuing a command.
'What the...'
Before he could demand an answer, Rakishi's consciousness winked out.
Forever.
* * *
“It's over?”
“The commander killed him.”
“I'd heard the rumors, but he's as strong as they say.”
The young heroes marveled at the commander's prowess, a first for them.
The guardian had slain a hero despite catching it off-guard—yet the commander dispatched him as easily as snapping a child's wrist.
“Is that the commander's weapon? A gift from the king?”
“Jealous.”
“If we rack up merits, we'll earn one someday.”
Dismissing the chatter, one hero scanned the surroundings.
The battle was done; now came the harvest.
They had traded crossbows and blades for clubs and ropes, frenziedly capturing humans.
Nearby, two Ollmu gripped a surviving young boy's arms, one per side, tugging fiercely.
“Got him!”
“This one's mine!”
“I caught him!”
The boy, held fast by the soldiers, screamed as if being torn apart.
Ollmu strength could overwhelm even adult men; two yanking a child left and right was inevitable.
As they bickered, the boy's arms truly ripped free.
“Ruined.”
“Useless.”
The soldiers muttered in disappointment.
Deeming the limbless boy worthless, one walked away without regret—but the other lingered.
Fury boiling, he pummeled the boy with fists until life fled his broken form.
Certain of victory, the Ollmu threw themselves into slave-hunting with zeal.
Even Age of Discovery slavers would admire their fervor.
Humans served as currency in Ollmu society, one reason for the frenzy.
First-generation slaves were fierce and arrogant, hard to handle—but breeding them with docile ones and raising in isolation bred controllable stock.
'Hm, I should snag a few myself. But tussling with grunts would tarnish my dignity.'
The musing of one hero surveying the hellscape.
* * *
Soon after, Myushu's Ollmu army razed five human settlements.
They captured over two hundred humans, but with nearly a thousand in the force, it was a paltry yield—less than one per soldier.
Myushu ordered all prisoners slain. Guarding them or hauling to base would scatter his troops.
“Killing them for that reason?”
“What if we drive them to extinction?”
“The king will rage if humans vanish entirely.”
The young heroes murmured. Myushu shook his head, resolute.
“The king commanded the thunderous monster's capture. I execute that order most efficiently.”
None openly defied the commander's authoritative tone, though inwardly they cursed the inflexible old fool.
Unlike Myushu, sated on wealth and glory, the youths hungered for slaves and couldn't comprehend him.
Myushu, in turn, failed to grasp these shortsighted youngsters prioritizing personal gain over royal decree.
Even in Ollmu society, where elders commanded respect, generational rifts persisted.
Yet beyond petty disagreements, the Ollmu brimmed with confidence in triumph. Even the thunderous monster had vanished once the commander joined the fray.
Victory was merely a matter of time. So cocksure were they, they pondered not if, but how to win.
Precisely what Arsen and the undergrounders had hoped for.
* * *
“Name's Myushu. Reputed a hero among heroes even among the Ollmu...”
Arsen recited intel extracted from tortured captives.
Since the Ollmu counteroffensive began, they had scrupulously avoided open battle, even sacrificing settlements.
Only possible because they grasped the true aim: the Ollmu's eternal annihilation.
Centuries—perhaps millennia—of oppression had forged humans' hatred into something immense.
Overhearing, Anun glanced at him.
“You're not sure just how strong he is?”
“No. He rarely hits the field unless it's special, they say. Word is he crushes most Ollmu heroes like children. If true, he might match me... or surpass.”
Bazkal, munching potatoes nearby, chuckled incredulously at Arsen's modest words.
“Nah, no way. A foe as strong as you? The thought's nightmare fuel.”
“Don't get complacent. They conquered this underworld; unexpected power wouldn't surprise me.”
Turning from Bazkal's vague nod, Arsen surveyed the diligently working undergrounders and Berburmi mages.
They were hunkered in Timak's settlement—the largest nearby refuge.
No noncombatants remained.
Children had all been evacuated; only fighters lingered.
Catching Arsen's gaze, Bazkal swallowed his potato with a gulp.
“Preparations are just about done, right?”
“Finished ages ago. We're still reinforcing because it might not be enough. Probably won't end till they arrive—or forever.”
They had rigged the site with traps, lying in wait.
Bait: freshly captured Ollmu, mouths sealed to prevent shrill signals, bound to pillars. Still limp from Arsen's knockout blows.
Arsen addressed Bazkal, the other knights, and soldiers.
“Everyone remembers the plan?”
“Of course. How many times you gotta drill it?”
Arsen swallowed the retort—*You're the one I'm worried about*—and nodded.
As he opened his mouth for more, distant murmurs arose.
Anun muttered eagerly.
“They're coming.”
Moments later, a shout confirmed it.
“Ollmu incoming! Hundreds at least!”
“They're here.”
Arsen took a deep breath, scanning his tense subordinates.
Then issued the order.
“Battle stations! Everyone down—cover with the cloths!”