Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: Northern King (1)
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Hot blood spurted out. Jaeger's severed limbs thudded to the floor. His face crumpled like tissue paper from the belated agony. Soon, a bone-chilling scream erupted from him.
"Urk... urk... uwaaaagh!"
"J-Jaeger, sir!"
The beastmen's fur bristled. Losing his balance, Jaeger collapsed onto his own limbs. The clean cut revealed pristine white bone without a single scratch. Confirming Ronan's success, Adeshan let out a low chuckle.
"...As expected."
Her vision blurred from squeezing every last drop of energy. She staggered, dropping to one knee. Her lower face was smeared with nosebleed, but she lacked even the strength to wipe it.
'This is awkward. I wanted to look cool for him.'
Adeshan's head drooped. At the same moment, the mental domination holding the beastmen released. Regaining their freedom abruptly, they clamored noisily.
"H-He’s moving! What the hell happened?"
"That human woman did it. I don’t know how, but..."
"Grab her! Kill her!"
A few beastmen turned toward her, shouting. Their keen instincts had already pinpointed Adeshan as the source of the paralysis they’d suffered. The moment some lunged at her—thud! Ronan stomped on Jaeger's back as he lay sprawled.
"Gaaack!"
"You furballs. Hold it right there."
The beastmen froze at Jaeger's scream. Turning, they saw him writhing with Ronan astride his back, sword poised. The bloodied blade looked ready to slice his throat any second. Confirming no one moved, Ronan continued.
"If even one hair from that woman touches you, I’ll pop your boss’s head like a grape."
"C-Coward...!"
"Coward, my ass—you lot swarmed fifty strong. All of you, line up against that wall and hands up."
Ronan pointed to the opposite wall with his free hand. The beastmen hesitated, unmoving.
Noting their lame response, Ronan sliced off the tip of Jaeger's tail with his sword. Shlick! Another scream burst from the prone beastman.
"Gyaack! Do it! Do what he says!"
"Damn it, Jaeger, sir...!"
It worked like a charm. The hesitant beastmen shuffled toward the wall one by one. As Ronan ordered, they pressed against it, arms raised. The room filled with grinding teeth.
"Good. Stay put."
Of course, Ronan didn’t care either way. He warned once more that any funny business would end with Jaeger's head flying via sword aura, then approached Adeshan. She remained kneeling rigidly. Hoisting her over one shoulder, Ronan spoke.
"You did great."
"Heh... thanks..."
Adeshan whispered back. Surprisingly, she hadn’t lost consciousness. Her long limbs dangled with each of Ronan's steps. She mumbled in a voice laced with embarrassment.
"Am I... heavy?"
"Not at all. And you’re saying that now?"
Ronan chuckled incredulously. Her ability to speak suggested she wasn’t as bad off as feared. Gently laying Adeshan down, he moved to Jaeger's desk—his planned escape route.
A lavish desk sat with a five-drawer unit below. Opening them one by one, Ronan snapped his fingers. A teleportation scroll etched with spatial magic lay on silk fabric.
"Bingo."
"H-How did you...!"
Jaeger gasped in shock. It was a spare escape scroll for emergencies. He’d planned to use it after lulling Ronan, but now it was exposed. Snatching it, Ronan snickered.
"Predictable as hell, you lot. Check other drawers?"
"S-Stop! Don’t rummage anymore!"
Jaeger's outburst hinted at hidden secrets. Ronan spotted a lock on the bottom drawer—heavy-duty, laced with multiple security spells, bank-vault quality.
"What’s this? Hiding something good?"
"N-No key anyway—can’t open it. Hands off!"
"I can. No worries."
Ronan laid his blade on the lock and tugged lightly. The embedded spells severed; the lock split in two. Jaeger's jaw dropped. Peering into the bottom drawer, Ronan tilted his head.
"This...?"
Several stakes lay neatly stacked. They resembled those Ronan once used hunting vampires, but an ominous aura clung to them. As he unconsciously touched one, a chilling, repulsive sensation crawled up his fingers. Realizing their nature, Ronan spat a curse.
"...Fucking hell."
A thick vein bulged on his forehead. It proved one of his hypotheses correct. Taking a deep breath to suppress the urge to pulp Jaeger into the carpet, he growled.
"Got more questions for you now, Jaeger."
Ronan’s voice rumbled low. Jaeger hung his head, silent. Calming himself, Ronan pocketed a stake.
'Stay cool.'
This wasn’t about one or two lives—he needed caution. Hoisting Adeshan again, he approached Jaeger.
"You’re coming with me."
"W-Where are you—urk!"
Ronan heel-struck the resisting Jaeger’s nape. The limbless torso went limp. Confirming what to carry, Ronan bid farewell to the beastmen.
"See ya, furballs."
He unfurled the scroll. Space warped; a rift-like portal yawned before them.
"S-Stay right there!"
"Jaeger, sir!"
A few beastmen peeled from the wall, charging. But the rift had already swallowed the trio. Soon, only a blood pool from Jaeger remained, scattering crimson light.
"Ugh... urk..."
Jaeger groaned, eyes fluttering open. A ceiling of stitched hides met his gaze. Stale air confirmed he was indoors.
"W-Where...?"
Time lost all meaning. The ceiling suggested a tent. One wall had an arched entrance. Soft fur pelts cushioned the floor beneath him. Sudden agony made him curl up.
"Urk?!"
It felt like his flesh burned from within—everywhere, but worst at his limbs. Limbs? Lifting his right arm, his eyes bulged.
"Th-They’re attached?!"
Incredibly, his severed left arm and right leg were reattached. Testing, his fingers and toes moved normally. Was it a dream? As confusion gripped him, an unwelcome voice came from behind.
"Awake, huh."
"Gah! Y-You bastards!"
Jaeger leaped up in terror. Ronan and Adeshan stood before him in leather garb. Ronan, hands in pockets, continued.
"Set the escape point far, didn’t ya? Tukhan Plateau, of all places. Saved us a chase, though."
Jaeger’s scroll had flung them to Tukhan Plateau—three days’ ride away. It’d been about two hours since the lair escape, he noted. Hiding panic, Jaeger asked.
"W-What? What did you do—no, why?!"
"Thank me first for reattaching your limbs, dumbass. Want 'em off again?"
His calm menace made Jaeger gulp. Resistance crumbled; he couldn’t win against these two.
"R-Right... thanks. But how? I was clearly..."
"My friend fixed you. Flew from the capital for your sake—be grateful."
"Fr-Friend?"
Perplexed, Jaeger narrowed his eyes. Then, a presence nearby. Glancing casually, he froze solid.
"H-Huh?!"
An unidentified monster perched on a shelf, staring with blood-red eyes and black feathers exuding dread. Sita blinked, then flared four wings.
"Pya!"
"Gyaaaah!"
Legs buckling, Jaeger collapsed onto the furs. Sita cackled, amused. Ronan, eyeing the now child-sized Sita, chuckled dryly.
"Didn’t expect full limb regrowth. When’d she get so big?"
"Faster than a phantom horse."
Adeshan murmured, impressed. Her growth boosted speed and healing too.
Sita, summoned by Ronan's anklet—post-sword tournament—arrived at Tukhan in under an hour. Smart move.
Time to work. Petting Sita, Ronan squatted before Jaeger.
"Alright, Jaeger. Few questions. Answer nicely, or it gets ugly."
"Q-Questions? Like what."
"First: Who’s the Advisor? Zaifa?"
Ronan asked. Jaeger's face hardened. He opened his mouth, then clenched his jaw.
"...Can’t say."
"Even if I lop off all limbs?"
"Threats won’t work. That... I can’t."
Jaeger shook his head firmly. His trembling voice and limp tail screamed terror. Ronan nodded slowly, drawing the stake from his pocket.
"Fine. Next question."
"Th-That...!"
The stake from the office drawer. Jaeger's eyes twitched. Ominous energy wafted like heat haze from its dark surface. Waving it before Jaeger, Ronan spoke.
"Curse stakes, right? Your doing."
Certain. From dawn tower curse research, Ronan knew these as curse conduits. Jaeger's breath quickened visibly.
"Hah... haa..."
Unable to face it, he grimaced, head dropping.
"...Yes."
"Smart play. Curse your northern kin, frame humans to stoke hatred. Perfect agitation—most natives carry grudges against the Empire."
Admiration tinged Ronan's tone. Devilishly brutal and efficient.
That’s why he spared Jaeger. No way this scheme came from that head. Continuing,
"But Jaeger, do you know exactly what this curse does?"
"W-What’re you on about."
"Ever seen cursed folks firsthand? Not reports—your own eyes."
"No... never."
Jaeger shook his head. He’d just ordered stakes planted per Advisor—no checks. Ronan's lips curved meaningfully.
"Knew it."
"W-What’re you planning."
Ronan stood abruptly, shrinking Jaeger again. But instead of torture, he turned to the entrance, cupping hands to shout.
"Hey! Jaeger’s awake!"
"What?"
His voice echoed. Outside grew rowdy. Soon, werewolves swarmed in; Jaeger's eyes widened.
"Heavens, Jaeger, sir. You’re up."
"We were so worried!"
"W-Who’re these?"
A dozen ragged werewolves—clearly Tukhan natives—surrounded him. Ronan said,
"Talk it out. If no change of heart after, you’re free."
"Wait, what do you—"
Ignoring Jaeger’s protest, Ronan and Adeshan exited. Gray clouds loomed over the native camp. Mutated werewolves—two or three—drooled amid snowy winds. Pitying them, Adeshan spoke.
"Think it’ll work?"
"Hope so."
Ronan nodded gravely. Fate would decide. This was one Tukhan werewolf tribe—human-hating, but the "rescue" lie got them in.
"Pyaa~"
Sita circled overhead, watching the tent. Ronan puffed his new Rundalian pipe; white smoke trailed the wind.
"Jaeger, sir. Those humans really saved you?"
"Honored to meet you. You okay?"
"F-Fine. Y-You tended me."
Jaeger sweated, waving them off. Natives offered handmade food and clothes. Forcing down jerky, his ears perked.
'Play this right, I could escape...'
These werewolf natives were fervent followers—loyalty rivaling his guard. Sneering inwardly at his captors, a werewolf boy approached, cradling a bundle.
"Jaeger, sir. Can you fix my brother?"
"Huh? Brother?"
"Yeah. See? Born last week."
"Gah...!"
The boy unveiled it. Jaeger recoiled in horror. No werewolf—this was a monster.
Twisted joints, extra eye on forehead. Oversized fangs leaked grotesque moans. The boy patted it.
"Hurts a lot. Neighbor’s baby had an extra arm. Most newborns die or come out wrong."
"Since when...?"
"'Bout a year."
Jaeger was speechless. A year ago—when he’d ordered stakes planted everywhere per Advisor.
His gaze fixed on the wriggling mutant pup. Far worse than reports. Advisor said mild disabilities. Afflicted natives piped up.
"My sister’s sick. Shaman prays, but no good. She’ll die soon."
"My son volunteered for Fang Mountains yesterday. Awaiting Night of Fangs. Rest well."
"Jaeger, sir. Drive out evil humans. Take my treasure."
A girl offered a hideous fur doll—werewolf-shaped. Breath ragged, Jaeger clamped his mouth.
"Urp...!"
Releasing, he nearly vomited. Alarmed werewolves crowded.
"Jaeger, sir! You okay?!"
"Bad food? Jaeger, sir!"
Their cries fell on deaf ears. Stake orders swirled in his mind. Over a hundred tribes cursed, by his count. Finally retching once, he spoke.
"I... I..."
.
.
.
"Ronan, one question?"
"Shoot."
"Might sound harsh, but... why no mental domination? Easier for intel."
Adeshan asked about Jaeger. Torture or domination could’ve worked, but Ronan skipped it.
"Nah. Figured he might not be a total lost cause."
Puffing his cig, Ronan recalled Jaeger hiding the drawer. Guilt over cursing kin, at least.
There, he saw redemption potential. Killing post-interrogation was easy, but north’d chaos long-term. Reformed Jaeger cuts backlash. Ashing his cig, Ronan murmured.
"Plus, eyes look prettiest pure white."
Blood-and-tears eyes weren’t beautiful. Snowfield purity came from unmarred white. Glancing at Adeshan,
"Time to head in?"
"Yeah."
Back inside after an hour. No incidents.
Jaeger sat alone, slumped against the wall—soulless husk.
"Feel anything?"
No reply. He stared blankly, lost. Waiting, Ronan smirked.
"Nothing? Promise kept. Go home."
He rose. Adeshan raised a brow as Ronan turned to leave. Then, a cracked voice.
"...Wait."
Ronan halted, turning. Jaeger’s head hung; tail thumped floor. Fluffy white hand clutched the doll.
Long silence. Then,
"...His name’s Barca. Barca Tergun. Zaifa-nim’s brother... real mastermind of Night of Fangs."