Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 149
Chapter Title: Audience (1)
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White mountain mist flowed along the ridge. The morning air was humid. Spring rain seeping through the trees drummed against their raincoats.
The sky was much brighter than it had been before leaving Phileon. The mist rising from the wet soil was thickly permeated with the scent of blood. Ronan spat a curse as he looked around.
"Fuck..."
The faint remnants of sleepiness vanished completely. Memories from a few hours ago surfaced in his mind. Ronan had received the news in the pre-dawn darkness, before the sun had even risen.
He had been deep in sleep to prepare for his decisive battle with Schlieffen. Suddenly, the dormitory door burst open, and a familiar voice echoed through the room.
- Ronan. Get up.
- ...Instructor?
Ronan lifted his head. Naviroje stood in the doorway. Through his bleary vision, he saw she was dressed in combat gear.
There was no apology for waking him or barging in uninvited. That's when Ronan realized the gravity of the situation. He shook his head vigorously to shake off the sleep and opened his mouth.
- What happened?
- Intel came in that the Dawn Unit was wiped out. I figured you'd want to know.
Ronan's eyes widened. The Dawn Unit was one of the Empire's special forces units dedicated to Nebula Klazie. The beastman unit led by Zaifa was part of it as well.
- Hold on a sec.
Ronan finished gearing up in less than a minute and left the room. Fortunately, the site wasn't far from the capital. An eerie drizzle soaked the still-dark campus. The two cloaked in raincoats mounted their horses...
"Gruesome."
"Ah."
Naviroje, who had been surveying the scene beside him, clicked her tongue. Ronan's attention snapped back to reality. He nodded in agreement.
"Yeah."
Ronan tried to breathe only through his mouth as much as possible. Inhaling through his nose would likely bring on dizziness from the overwhelming stench of blood.
Bodies were everywhere. Fresh chunks of meat that hadn't yet lost their color spewed dark red blood in gurgling heaps. At least ninety corpses densely filled the gaps between the trees.
Imperial soldiers in thick gloves were loading the bodies onto stretchers. All the victims were from the Dawn Unit. Humans made up about seventy percent, with beastmen twice their size comprising the rest.
The silver lining, if it could be called that, was that the bodies were in relatively good condition. None were dismembered or half-eaten. Identification wouldn't be an issue.
'Damn it.'
Ronan gritted his teeth. It was infuriating that he felt relief over something like this. He muttered under his breath like a sigh.
"Looks like you won't have to lift a finger after all."
"Pyuuu..."
Sita, who had been huddled on Ronan's head, drooped her head. He had brought her along in case there were survivors, but it was pointless. The only survivors were those who hadn't been at the scene.
First, they needed to understand what had happened. Naviroje seemed to think the same. She beckoned to a man directing soldiers as she looked around.
"You there. Come here a moment."
"Hm?"
The man tilted his head. His officer's raincoat suggested a high rank. Recognizing Naviroje, he gasped.
"...Gasp!"
The man in the raincoat ran over. The insignia on his shoulder marked him as a lieutenant colonel. Standing before Naviroje, he saluted.
"Y-You've arrived, Naviroje ma'am. If you'd sent word, I would've come to greet you..."
"Never mind that. I want a briefing on the situation."
"Yes, sir...! I'll tell you everything we know. But we only found it after everything was already over, so we don't have much info..."
The lieutenant colonel stammered on. His face was pale with tension. Naviroje's reputation was palpable.
"A scouting patrol found it exactly two hours ago. They were likely ambushed while gathered for a night op or briefing."
"Sounds plausible. Some of Zaifa Tergun's unit members are mixed in. Where's that cat? Don't tell me he got taken out too?"
"C-Cat...? Sword Saint was acting separately when it happened. He just left the scene after saying he'd go find the culprit."
Naviroje furrowed her brow at the mention of Sword Saint. The flustered lieutenant colonel shrugged his shoulders. He didn't seem like the type who handled military life well.
Ronan removed his raincoat hood. Splashing cold rainwater on his face cleared his head a bit. He turned to Naviroje.
"I'll look around on my own."
"Do that."
"Sita, scout from the air for any survivors."
"Pyaat!"
Sita spread her four wings and took off. They needed clues first. Ronan began walking slowly. With each step, squelching mud oozed blood.
'He just left to go after them? Why the hell did this happen all of a sudden?'
The glittering mana residue everywhere pointed to Nebula Klazie's doing. But why such a bold move out of nowhere? After about twenty steps, he spotted a familiar face among the corpses.
'That bear...'
His build was impressive, like an adult male stretched twofold in every direction. It was the werebear who had brought Asel when they met Zaifa. Ronan could still hear the gentle way he'd soothed the boy.
'So Zaifa's unit really got caught up in it.'
Ronan twisted his lips. He couldn't imagine how furious that tiger, who cherished his beastkin brethren, must be. His gaze drifted to the werebear's neck.
A long gash crossed the center of the throat. Sliced clean to the bone in one stroke—he probably hadn't even felt pain. Ronan narrowed his eyes at the eerie sensation.
'This...'
It was chillingly precise sword mark. Even a butcher slaughtering cattle for a living would cut with more emotion. Whoever did this clearly had never smiled or cried in their life.
'Damn, what kind of bastard is this?'
Ronan hurriedly checked the other bodies. In most cases, each corpse bore only a single wound.
Inspecting the forty-third body, Ronan frowned. All the sword marks gave off an extremely similar vibe. You could believe one person did them all.
'One guy took out this many? No... there's subtle differences.'
Up close, there were tiny variations. Even if it was two or three people, it was still shocking.
But the real shock was something else. The basic form of the sword marks was all too familiar.
Ronan pressed his face close until the fur pricked his cornea and let out a hollow laugh. Identifying the familiarity didn't take long.
"Ha."
No doubt about it. Swordsmanship based on the Savior's style. But different from the Savior's or the robe-wearers'. More concise, emotionless. Closer to Naviroje's swordsmanship, if anything.
'Something's definitely going down.'
Ronan searched diligently for more clues. Aside from the glittering mana, there were no traces left. After a thorough sweep, he helped the soldiers carry bodies.
"You look familiar... H-Holy shit, are you Ronan, the Winter Ender?"
"That's me. Mind grabbing that head over there?"
"An honor to meet you!"
"I said grab the head."
Whoosh... Wind from the base of the mountain swept through the wet forest. Body recovery finished around noon. The spring rain had stopped. Ronan lit his pipe.
"We found jack squat in the end."
"Put out the smoke."
"Just this once. How can I hold back after this mess?"
For the first time, Ronan defied Naviroje. She seemed to understand and didn't press. Staring at the bloodstains with hands in pockets, she snatched his pipe and took a drag.
"Huh, Instructor?"
"Haaa... Damn it all."
She inhaled deeply and exhaled smoke. Her posture screamed habit from younger days. White smoke scattered in the air. After three drags, she handed it back.
"Hartawei Army of the North. Still a kid, but smoking the good stuff."
"My one luxury. Nowhere else to spend money."
"You did good. But no leads? That's the worst part."
Naviroje clicked her tongue. Clouds parted, revealing blue sky. Bloodstains on the slope still reeked. Ronan turned to Sita.
"Sita."
"Pyit!"
Sita spread her four wings. Blood soaked into the ground rose in droplets, absorbed into her body. Her absorption power had multiplied several times since two years ago. Soldiers gasped at the spectacle. As most blood was absorbed...
"...Py?"
"What's up?"
Sita tilted her head, scanning around. A red magic circle formed before her beak. Ronan's eyes widened.
"This is...!"
A red path wormed into existence ahead of the magic circle. He remembered seeing it in Gran Cappadocia. A spell to track blood trails to survivors.
Sita and Ronan's eyes met. She spread her wings and took off. Ronan bolted after the path at the same time.
"Damn, I'll be back!"
"Ronan?"
He didn't look back. Branches and leaves whipped his cheeks. Mud splattered his pant legs.
The path wasn't long. Sita stopped before a massive ancient tree. Truly enormous. Beneath it, where it seemed to have fallen over a century ago, came sobbing sounds.
The red path ended at the tree. A survivor below, probably. Ronan rolled up his sleeves and pushed.
"Hnnngh!"
Heavy as hell. Switching power sources, he invoked Baren's aura. Golden energy climbed his arms, muscles bulging.
Everything fine except his strength overdid it. Boom! The tree shot away like repelled, tilting Ronan forward.
"Whoa?!"
His eyes bulged. A massive pit yawned below. He tumbled down the slope.
Splat! He hit something soft and damp, stopping. Beastly musk mixed with blood wafted up. Lifting his head, Ronan scowled.
"You're...!"
"Ah... Aaaah... Aa..."
A were-lion huddled tightly. No mane—she was female. The groans came from her mouth.
"Py."
Sita landed on Ronan's head. Recognizing the werelion, Ronan raised a brow. Zaifa's adjutant, Lieutenant Colonel Nemeia, right?
"...You okay?"
"Ahh... Aaaa..."
She hadn't even noticed him. Never seen a werelion this terrified. Her glossy fur was matted with blood and rain like a rag.
"Damn, not the time. Come here."
Rummaging his pouch hurriedly, Ronan pulled a vial. Baren's special potion for emergencies. Combined with Sita's healing, it could mend serious wounds.
As he approached cautiously, she finally sensed him and looked up. Their eyes met. Suddenly, she bristled all over and recoiled.
"E-Eyes! Those eyes...!"
"Pardon?"
"Rooaaar! Stay back!"
The lieutenant colonel roared. Ronan's attempts to calm her failed. Backed into a corner, she raked the wall with claws. Footsteps approached from above.