Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: Where the Sky Thins (2)
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The bisected monster's body crashed to the floor. Purple-tinged blood poured down like a torrential downpour.
Ronan spun his sword once before gripping it and looked up at Brniharudo.
"All that yapping, but your moves are sluggish. What do you mean 'protect'?"
"......How?"
Brniharudo, who had been frozen stiff for a while, finally spoke. By the time she noticed the monster's presence, it was already too late. She had braced for serious injuries, but to think she'd be saved by a human.
"Beats me... That's why I came here too."
"Impossible."
"If it really were impossible, you'd be dead with your throat slit. Anyway, you just gonna leave that thing alone?"
Ronan jerked his chin toward somewhere. It was the direction the monster had come from. The dragon and elf followed his gaze, and their eyes widened. A rift large enough for two horses to pass through had torn open in one corner of the barrier.
"My god, a rift...!"
"We should seal that first."
Monsters that hadn't been burned or killed were swarming toward the rift. Despite their sizes not fitting, they tore and crumpled their bodies to shove their heads through—the sight was utterly grotesque.
Boom! Brniharudo's wings exploded outward. With a single flap, she reached the rift and unleashed her breath.
-Kyaaaaaaa!
Flames roared out. The swept-up monsters oxidized into ash. In sheer scale, it outclassed even Navardoje's. Ronan squinted at the blaze engulfing everything.
No joke.
The flames spread ever wider, reminiscent of floodwaters bursting through a collapsing dam. But as in the conversation he'd overheard between Iraniel and her, compared to Navardoje's fire, the temperature seemed lacking. A few larger ones endured the blaze, chomping through it stubbornly, proving the point. That was when Ronan first confirmed the existence of the "barrier" Iraniel had mentioned.
That's it. Similar, but different.
Ronan's eyes narrowed. A translucent, resin-like membrane coated the monsters' flesh. The coverage and strength varied per individual.
It fell far short of the Star's Blessing, but the durability looked decent enough. Only after melting the barriers completely did Brniharudo's fire char the flesh beneath.
Splat. A few monsters that had somehow pushed through the flames plummeted to the floor. Brniharudo had to focus on the horde outside the rift and couldn't tend to them. Soon, the flesh lumps rose, extending tentacles as they charged.
-Kihyaaaa!!
"Firepower's lacking after all."
Iraniel murmured bitterly and closed his eyes. Low chanting followed, geometric magic circles materializing above the monsters' heads and below their feet. Snap! As he flicked his finger, ice blades erupted from the circles, skewering the monsters.
-Kyaaak! Kyauuk!
-Grriiik!
Impaled from above and below, the monsters shrieked. Biting cold spread, chilling to the bone. Ronan whistled at the unexpectedly potent magic.
"Not bad."
He could've been a tower lord or top mage. Honestly, Ronan had pegged both as blusterers, but they had the skills to back up their human disdain.
Yet despite the onslaught of fire and ice, the monsters inside the barrier still writhed alive. No finishing blows? Growing impatient, Ronan gripped his sword hilt.
"Like that'll kill 'em."
His core pulsed rapidly. La Mancha's blade flushed scarlet like blood. Crash! Just as a monster broke free of the ice and lunged at Iraniel, Ronan intercepted, swinging his arm. A red trail slashed along his sword path, grazing the monster.
-Gurg?
The monster halted, sensing the anomaly. Simultaneously, red lines etched across its octopus-like body. Splurt! It collapsed along the cuts, severed. Covered in sticky fluids, Ronan grumbled irritably.
"Ugh, disgusting."
"What are you...?"
Iraniel muttered in shock. No illusion—Ronan's blade had shredded the barrier like paper, one that halved even Brniharudo's fire. Ignoring him, Ronan charged the remaining live ones. Splurt! Blood sprayed wherever his strikes landed.
"Brniharudo, you alright?"
"Yeah. Throat's a bit scratchy."
The crisis resolved soon enough. After slaying all monsters inside and out, Brniharudo and Iraniel erected a temporary ward over the new rift.
Imperfect, but potent enough to incinerate most monsters on contact. Catching his breath, Iraniel spoke.
"Whew, can't wait for shift change and some rest. Anyway..."
He turned. Ronan prowled among the corpses, finishing off any stragglers.
"Fucking ugly bastards."
Ronan grimaced, wiping fluid from his face. At his feet, a tentacle mass like an anemone with eyeballs twitched.
He stabbed its curiously bright eye. Poke. A mushy sensation, like piercing a rotten corpse, traveled up his arm.
-Gurblek.
It convulsed briefly before slumping. Ronan nudged the "head" with his boot.
"This one's dead, right?"
"...Seems so."
"What about the bodies? They reek."
"Just leave 'em. Cleanup crew handles it."
Iraniel said. His gaze toward Ronan had shifted markedly from pre-battle. Snap! He flicked his fingers, vaporizing the blood on Ronan's body.
"Oh, you can do that too?"
"Simple spell. We skipped introductions, huh? I'm Iraniel Lemation. You?"
"Ronan."
"Right, Ronan. Do you know what you just did?"
Iraniel's face grew serious. Ronan tilted his head. What was there to ask after seeing it?
"Sliced up some monster shits."
"Yes. You killed monsters. The issue is, those you butchered aren't ordinary ones. I clearly saw your blade ignore their barriers."
"So what? Want a medal?"
"I want that secret. How? I've studied those horrors for nearly a century, but this is...!"
Iraniel suddenly grabbed Ronan's hand. His brow furrowed sharply.
"Let go."
"Ahh! Lord Ronan, let me study you! The best treatment!"
"I'll count to three. One. Two..."
"Please, you're the key to ending this endless—"
Exactly at three, Ronan's fist met Iraniel's face. Despite pulling the punch due to size difference, he flew far. Crash! Sprawled, Iraniel rose with a creepy grin.
"Heh, heh... Knew it, so I put up a barrier. Fists have no destructive effect."
"You're fucking insane."
Ronan spat. No impact felt—must've hit the barrier. Rip it and beat him? As he reached for his hilt, a familiar voice came from behind.
"Good work, everyone."
"Lady Navardoje?"
Both turned. Navardoje stood, hands behind back, job done. Across the resealed barrier, unidentifiable ash piles loomed—she'd incinerated the entire horde. Brniharudo bowed.
"Mother."
"New rift, huh. Burned far out, missed it."
"Temporary seal's up. But these incidents are rising. The sky's thinning more."
"I feel it too. Don't know how long the barrier holds, but we'll do our best. Thanks for guarding my guest."
Encouraging Iraniel, Navardoje gently stroked her daughter's head. Brniharudo, glancing between Ronan and her mother, mumbled.
"...Embarrassing, but opposite. This mortal saved me. Hate to admit, but... he's decent."
Ronan shrugged. Expected shamelessness, not this humility. Bloodline lending some conscience? Brniharudo hummed thoughtfully.
"But Mother, something odd."
"Odd?"
"This human... feels familiar. From when I was little. Not sure..."
Her gaze fixed on Ronan, draconic intensity burdensome. Similar vibes lately. Navardoje nodded.
"You're right. He's ■■'s son."
"What? ■■, the fortress builder...?"
"Yes. Or distant descendant. Nothing else explains it."
Brniharudo's eyes bulged. Ronan, missing only his name, seethed. Suddenly, Navardoje turned to him.
"Follow me. Time I tell you everything, as promised."
"No more incoming?"
"Burned extra, good for hours. Come."
Ronan followed her back to the fortress. More people now—dragons, elves, vampires... All immortals, bowing to Navardoje, eyeing Ronan curiously.
"That blood smell...? No way, a human?"
"Always hard work. Flame of origins."
"Watch out, guys. Messed around earlier, got wrecked."
The interior seemed simple but hid paths cleverly. Navardoje took suspicious passages.
No destination given, Ronan followed silently. Midway down a narrow spiral stair—five minutes in—he spoke.
"Father's looks, exactly?"
"No need for details—you're his spitting image. Just dye your hair white."
"Ah... Damn it."
Ronan twisted his lips. Only robe-wearer he resembled was that bastard Dal. He'd denied, but father... Birth secrets led to shitty, vague conclusions.
And that guy's Nebula Klazie's cult leader now? Why seek Navardoje? Profit in warning about monsters?
Head spun. No unraveling the tangle. Stairs ended after ten more minutes.
"Here. First in centuries."
"This is...?"
Ronan looked up. Massive doors blocked them. Navardoje brushed dust off.
"■■'s room. He and Elsia holed up here three years for research. Visited me after, but never returned."
"Huh? Who?"
Ronan's eyes widened. Familiar name brushed his ear. Navardoje shrugged.
"■■ and Elsia."
"...That Elsia—was she a red-eyed elf? Disgustingly long ears."
"Yes. How'd you know?"
Ronan's eyes widened. If memory served, Elsia was that person.
Red-eyed high elf. Nebula Klazie's co-founder, wielder of wind spirit Hiran. Ronan recalled days possessing the Savior, rebuilding her village. Navardoje tilted her head at his freeze.
"Anyway, let's talk inside."
She gripped the handle. Click. Lock released. Despite centuries neglected, the huge doors glided open smooth as a stream.