Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Blood and Egg (2)
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A flustered shout rang out from not far away. It came from a thicket where bushes taller than a man grew densely. Ronan confirmed the direction and kicked off the ground, charging forward.
-Swoosh!
At that moment, another arrow flew in. This one was different from the previous ones, unnaturally fast.
Ronan twisted his head to dodge instead of deflecting it.
In that split second as the arrow grazed past his eye, Ronan caught sight of the arrowhead's unusual shape.
'This is...'
The familiar arrowhead wasn't the typical triangular or diamond shape. Three triangular blades were attached around the pointed shaft.
'I remember it.'
It matched the arrowhead a penal legion comrade, arrested for poaching, had proudly shown off. Designed to shatter beast bones rather than human ones, its structure was vicious.
He'd bragged that feeding it mana could instantly kill even mid-sized monsters. His boast echoed in Ronan's ears.
-And this isn't for any backwater yokel. Even in Caribolo's Snare, only hound rank or higher can use them.
Hound was the term for Caribolo's elite operatives. The poacher comrade had gone on about the organization's greatness and structured hierarchy.
Ronan's expression hardened fiercely.
"Caribolo's Snare."
The notorious poaching group on the continent that had tried to kidnap the dream bird Marfez.
'No reason to let them live.'
Ronan deflected the incoming arrow and cupped his hand to his mouth.
"Cease fire, Caribolo's Snare! We're allies!"
"What?"
"Can't you recognize your own? Ahayute, hound from the Damas branch!"
The arrow fire halted for a moment. Confirming the gap had closed enough, Ronan swung his sword.
Asel's telekinesis snapped, and the floating rocks and wood scraps crashed to the ground.
"Hands up, check me out!"
"Hound from Damas branch...?"
Ronan sheathed his sword and raised both hands. He slowly advanced toward the direction the arrows had come from.
Soon, four men emerged from the shaking bushes.
"Ahayute? Never heard of him. You guys?"
"Nope."
"What is this, some kid?"
Three held bows, one a dagger. Ronan frowned at their appearance. Their ragged clothes and faces were splattered with fresh blood.
Long drag marks of blood trailed on the ground, as if something had been pulled. Ronan spotted silver rings on their fingers.
Tamer Rings, just like the one bound to Marfez's leg. The dagger-wielder growled.
"You're a hound? From Damas branch?"
"Yeah. Why make me repeat myself?"
"Talk sense. Even a liaison might pass, but a punk like you as a hound? Ridiculous."
"Not everyone can do it just 'cause you can't, mutt. Must pick only idiots wherever your branch is."
Ronan spat at the man's feet. The man barked a hollow laugh and grabbed Ronan's collar. He pressed the dagger to Ronan's throat.
"Wanna die, bloodsucker?"
"Oh, mutt or hound?"
"All seven of us are hounds."
Ronan nodded.
Seven, huh. Three more hiding, then. Makes sense; I'd sensed presences earlier.
"Impressive. If you can't believe it, ask your wolf. Though, newly promoted, so it's understandable you wouldn't know."
Ronan shoved the man's hand off his collar. The hounds stirred at "wolf."
Mutt, hound, wolf.
Too spot-on for a mere liar; the boy knew Caribolo's ranks too well.
Plus, unless he'd misseen, he'd deflected mana-fed arrows. His swordsmanship seemed exceptional, oddly credible.
The dagger man said,
"...This kid's legit."
"You go check? Boss seemed pissed today; handle it ourselves?"
"Can't risk it. If he's real Damas hound, bad blood with the branch."
The man vanished into the bushes. The hounds swapped bows for swords and approached warily.
A grasshopper-like man jabbed his sword tip at Ronan's chest.
"Speaking of, how'd you do that earlier?"
"Do what?"
"Don't play dumb, brat. Floating rocks and wood. Mage?"
He meant Asel's telekinesis. Ronan grinned cheekily.
"Ah~ that? No secret."
Ronan pulled Marfez's egg from his inner pocket. The men gawked at its jewel-like beauty.
"All thanks to this. Sliced open a griffon last time, out it came. Probably magic artifact."
"No way, you took down a griffon? Wait, what's this thing?"
"See for yourself, seniors."
Ronan lightly tossed the egg to the grasshopper. The crowding men fondled it greedily.
"Whoa..."
"First time seeing this."
Marfez's egg exuded indescribable mystery alongside beauty. It could hold any magic, no surprise. One raised it and yelled,
"Hey! Everyone, check this out!"
From various directions, one man and two women appeared. From behind trees, rocks, bushes.
All wielded massive hunting bows—snipers, clearly.
"Big mouth. What's up?"
"Kid says it's from a griffon he killed. Should we off him?"
They inspected the egg with keen interest. Then, two men emerged from tall grass. One was the earlier dagger man.
"This the guy?"
"Yes, boss."
The other was a bald giant nearly 2m tall, adorned with flashy jewelry.
Ronan instantly knew he was the branch's "wolf" leader. The wolf strode up, looking down.
"Beum, wolf of Dmire branch. From Damas, Ahayute?"
"Yes."
"Heard our branch handles the newly found leyline. What's your game?"
Beum growled threateningly. Ronan didn't answer.
He scanned quickly. No more presences. All eight, wolf included, gathered.
Ronan's lips curled. Annoying part over. First time feeling fondness for that poacher comrade.
"Good you listened despite sleepiness and disgust. Comrades are irreplaceable."
"Huh? What're you on about?"
"First, correction... I'm not Ahayute."
Slash.
Ronan's sword arced like a spring. A red line bloomed on Beum's neck. As Beum belatedly reached for his hilt, his head tumbled free.
"Ah?"
"Hate using that bastard's name most. Had to play poacher."
Beum's world flipped. The dagger man's pupils dilated.
Distracted by the egg, only he witnessed the boss's absurd death.
"Everyone...!"
Slash.
No time to resist. Ronan kicked Beum's body toward the man and swung.
The blade's feel of parting flesh and bone transmitted through his hand. The man's left arm and four right fingers flew into the air.
"You're on hold."
"Gaaarghhh!"
A bone-chilling scream erupted. The hounds finally reacted, scrambling into stance.
"Wh-what?! This brat...!"
"Huh? Boss..."
The quickest hound nocked an arrow hastily. But the gap was closed. Black sword strikes rained on them.
"No...!"
Slash.
"Kyaa...!"
Slash.
"Damn it...!"
Slash.
Ronan's sword targeted only poacher necks precisely. No drawn-out groans or screams—just reflexive gasps sporadically.
"Know who I...!"
Slash.
Some were sword experts, but meaningless. Humans die severed-necked.
Slash.
Gushing blood soaked the grass. Bodies flopped a beat late, like fish on land. The last hound dropped his weapon.
"Mercy...!"
Slash.
It ended quickly.
"Ueeek! Urk!"
"Told you to brace yourself."
Asel retched again, eyes meeting corpses. Arriving late at Ronan's call, he faced an unbelievable hellscape.
Not one headless body had its head attached. Wide-eyed heads rolled amid bushes like late autumn chestnuts.
"Th-those people... urp!"
"Caribolo's Snare. The poachers I mentioned."
A dimension beyond the Luna Goblin carnage.
Cleaner than that gut-strewn viscera field, but goblins were monsters, not human.
Asel whimpered,
"Th-this is murder...!"
"Wanted criminals, so fine. Probably."
Ronan replied flatly, smoking. Most Caribolo poachers were indeed bountied.
Even mutts had prices; hounds needless to say.
"Pack 'em up."
"P-pack these...?"
"Carry by hand or telekinesis?"
He'd severed only heads for this. Ronan stuffed them into his backpack.
They split: five for Ronan, three for Asel. The seeping liquid's chill was eerie.
Ronan pulled Asel's hood, seeing him hyperventilate.
"Follow."
"Huh...?"
Ronan led through tall grass, blood trail guiding from before the slaughter.
Ten minutes in, grass parted to a clearing. Overwhelming gore stench hit unlike before. Ronan lit his pipe.
"Guilt eased now?"
"Th-this, all...!"
"Yeah. What those backpack bastards did."
Asel fell silent. Over a hundred animals lay dead, species indiscriminate: deer, boars, leopards, nameless birds, squirrels...
Blood river flowed downslope. One corner had neatly stacked meat and hides from butchering.
Useless heads and guts littered haphazardly. Asel rooted in place.
"You... too much..."
"Professor Baren would grieve."
Ronan exhaled smoke, smiling bitterly. Fantastical beasts, like unicorn kin, lay cold too.
Some sold as pets, but these valued more for meat/materials.
"At least got this..."
Ronan unrolled a parchment from his pocket. Different from Professor Baren's. Blood-drawn map marked locations.
-Draw everything.
Ronan had ordered all branch sites mapped.
The now-fingerless man drew desperately. Ronan's spared right index was brush and lifeline.
-D-done... mercy, right?
Begging shamelessly post-map.
-No.
Ronan beheaded without hesitation. "On hold," not "spared."
Rolling the map, Ronan muttered,
"Wonder if Baren'll like it."
Dead fantasticals recalled the egg. He rummaged pockets. Nothing but tobacco pouch.
"Shit, spilled where again."
Realized: handed to hounds earlier, forgot to retrieve.
Leaving Asel, Ronan returned to the slaughter site. Frowning upon arrival,
"Huh?"
Splattered blood traces everywhere—gone. Even pooled in grass roots or dips, vanished.
What? Wrong path?
As Ronan looked around, eerie sight caught his eye.
"...What the hell?"
Remaining blood pooled, sluggishly moving somewhere.
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