Chapter 209
Chapter 209
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Northern King (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Damn it, what the hell is going on?"
A tearing scream echoed from outside the tent. Ronan gripped his sword hilt and dashed out urgently. Adeshan and Jaeger followed right behind.
"Th-this is...?"
"My god."
The moment they stepped outside, they instinctively sensed something was wrong. A sinister, sticky aura clung to their skin. The air they breathed in tasted bitterly like insect entrails.
"Ugh...! Th-the air...?"
"Damn it, the curse has gotten stronger."
Their fingertips tingled. The shadows cast by buildings and people had grown unnaturally thick. He didn't know the reason, but the curse on the tribe had intensified overall. What trick had Barca pulled?
"Kya aaaak!"
"St-stop it!"
Screams continued amid the chaos. Ronan quickly turned toward the source. The malformed werewolves' bodies writhed and transformed. Limbs swelling or teeth ripping through jaws—it was no pleasant sight.
"Gruk...! Grrruk!"
"Brother, snap out of it! Brother!"
Werewolves who appeared to be family stomped around them in panic. It seemed the curse's power had surged, accelerating their physical changes.
He had a bad feeling that if they didn't resolve this quickly, something terrible would happen. Like suddenly going berserk and tearing into their family. After a moment's thought, Ronan shouted loudly.
"Sita!"
"Pweet!"
The echo resounded. Sita, circling in the sky, landed in front of Ronan. He tore a strip from his clothes and scribbled a short note with a pen. As he tied it to Sita's leg, he said,
"Head west from here, and you'll reach a city called Rundalian. Find Professor Secret there and bring him back. His fur's gotten all shaggy, but you can sniff him out. Hurry."
"Pwee!"
Sita nodded once and took off without delay. Given the situation, fetching an expert was the best move. Ronan turned to Adeshan and spoke.
"Senior, please keep the malformed ones from rampaging. Can you handle it?"
"Yeah. Leave it to me."
Adeshan rushed straight to the malformed werewolves. Shadow mana spread through the curse-tainted air. The writhing malformed ones, on the verge of exploding, suddenly calmed.
"...Impressive."
Jaeger muttered in admiration at her remarkably flexible handling. He thought maybe these humans could stand against Barca. Suddenly, a childish voice came from behind him.
"Ah-oo-ah."
"Hm?"
Jaeger turned. A werewolf boy stared at him from about ten paces away. His arms dangled limply, and he dragged one leg, looking uncomfortable. His untrimmed claws resembled ten daggers.
"You too... a villager here?"
No answer came. Thinking this was another curse-born malformed, Jaeger grimaced. Then the boy pointed at him with an index finger and asked,
"Jae...ger?"
"Yeah. I'm Jaeger. The atmosphere's off, so get back inside."
"...Jaeger. Jaeger."
But the werewolf boy ignored him and approached. That's when Ronan turned toward the boy.
"What the hell is that?"
The boy gave off a different vibe from the other malformed he'd seen. An inexplicable ominous feeling made it clear this was no ordinary thing. As Ronan opened his mouth to warn,
The boy closed the gap to three paces from Jaeger and vanished from sight in an instant.
"Wait, dangerous!"
Ronan's urgent shout came too late. The boy's blurred form reappeared behind Jaeger. Unaware Jaeger tilted his head.
"What?"
"Jaeger. Jaeger. Jaeger. Jaeger."
The boy muttered rapidly. Suddenly, five long red lines slashed diagonally across Jaeger's chest.
"Heok...!"
His eyes widened at the sensation like his limbs being severed. Before he could scream,
Shwaaack! Five streams of blood spurted from the gashes. Amid his shaking vision, Ronan's voice rang out.
"Fuck, Jaeger!"
"Huuu...euk."
Unrealistically profuse bleeding. The blood arced and soaked the snowfield. Steam rose from the red puddle. Jaeger instinctively felt his innards shredded. Thud! His massive frame toppled backward slowly. The gray-cloud sky filled his view.
"Jaeger. Jaeger. Jaeger. Jaeger. Jaeger. Grrruk."
The boy still muttered to himself. Watching from afar, he raised his right hand for the finishing blow. As the boy's form blurred again,
Ronan leaped and blocked him, landing.
"What are you, you little shit!"
"Kyarak?!"
Ronan swung horizontally. The werewolf boy dodged, tucking his head to his heel. Crack! A vertebrae-snapping rupture echoed loudly.
"What the...?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Inhumanly grotesque movement. But the attack hadn't completely missed. A black line appeared above the boy's Adam's apple, blood spurting.
"Kya aaak!"
The slash was too fast; he hadn't evaded perfectly. Clutching his throat, the boy fell on his butt. Blood droplets splattered onto Ronan's cheek from afar.
'Cold?'
Ronan frowned at the alien sensation. Blood that should be hot was icy like frozen water. Closer to black than red, it didn't seem like living blood. Then the boy sprang up and charged with a roar.
"Jaeger! Kya aaa!"
"What?!"
Ronan assumed a quick guard stance, narrowing his brows. The boy ignored him, flying toward Jaeger.
Something was definitely off. As Ronan turned, he activated his aura. Shwaaa... His blade glowed crimson, and the flying boy's body appeared right in front of Ronan's nose. The boy's face showed panic for the first time at the inexplicable phenomenon.
"Kyarak?!"
"Die."
Ronan pulled the hilt. A clean straight line slashed across the airborne boy's gut. Pffft! Black blood exploded outward, soaking everywhere. The bisected torso tumbled.
"Ugh...!"
A foul stench stabbed Ronan's nose. The smell of decaying flesh and blood, familiar from his past life with corpses. Suddenly, the boy's voice echoed from his feet again.
"Gyarak! Jaegeeer!"
"What the fuck."
Grotesque sight. The boy, upper body only, crawled toward Jaeger using arms as legs. A calligraphic trail of black blood followed. Ronan let out a disbelieving chuckle.
"...A living corpse, huh?"
His eyes caught the initial neck slash. Half severed and dangling—not a survivable wound.
Ronan leaped and stomped the boy, swinging again. Slash! The head, clenched teeth rattling, burst into dozens of pieces. Rotten brain and flesh sprayed. The remaining parts went limp.
Up close, he could sense it. Barca's mana permeated the boy's tissues. Looking down at the chunks, Ronan grimaced.
'Definitely an assassin he sent. Probably discarding it now that it's served its purpose. But this feels just like...'
Memories of necromancy surfaced. He wanted to investigate, but priorities lay elsewhere. Sheathing his sword, he rushed to Jaeger.
"Damn it, don't die on me now."
"Heok... heeok..."
Jaeger gasped like he was on death's door. Blood poured nonstop from his chest. Potions helped little; the wounds were too deep.
Ronan gritted his teeth. Of all times, with Sita gone. Suddenly, Jaeger, staring skyward, spoke.
"Lo...look..."
"Don't talk, idiot. It'll open the wounds."
"My...inner pocket...look..."
"Inner pocket?"
Jaeger nodded faintly. No clue what he meant while dying. Rummaging Jaeger's inner pocket, Ronan pulled out an octagonal compass, needle fixed, pointing nowhere. Jaeger said,
"The thing I was gonna give you earlier... He probably tracked me with it... Damn... No wonder he took my blood..."
"What's this?"
"Bloodline Needle... Points to the owner of blood smeared on the needle... Rare magic tool..."
The Bloodline Needle tracked within range. Jaeger had seen Barca take his blood on joining as advisor and apply it.
"But...just as he didn't trust me... I didn't trust him... It'll help for sure..."
He chuckled through blood foam. He'd secretly collected Barca's blood trace and smeared it on the needle. Sly and suspicious indeed. Ronan pocketed it and nodded.
"Got it. I'll use it well."
No reply. Only faint breaths in the wind. A flame flickering out in under ten minutes. Watching Jaeger silently, Ronan spat on the ground.
"Tch. Fuck."
Scumbag as always, but bitterness lingered. Peaceful resolution seemed impossible. As Ronan moved to help Adeshan,
A loud shout erupted behind.
"Uwaaak! H-help!"
"What?"
Ronan turned. Something sped from the distant sky. Dark silhouette like Sita, but with something extra. Soon recognizing it, Ronan's eyes bulged.
"Damn, Secret?"
"Gya aaa!"
A snow-white werefox rode Sita's back. Clutching feathers desperately, screeching—it was someone Ronan knew well. Spotting Ronan, Sita dove near-vertically.
"Pweee!"
"My, my god! No way!"
The amplified wail echoed. Sita braked with four wings on landing; Secret tumbled off. Panting on the ground, he cursed Sita.
"Y-you damn bird! I really thought I was dead!"
"Pwehaha!"
Sita flapped wings, laughing. Ronan spoke at the absurd scene.
"...Good work."
"Yeah, I know! Telling me to hop on your back out of nowhere—what the hell is this? Oh, heavens!"
Secret stood faster than expected. Ronan had joked about carrying people, never imagining it. Snapping fingers, Ronan pointed at Jaeger.
"Right, not the time. Sita, fix this bleached tiger up."
Jaeger still breathed. Barely past five minutes, but alive. Sita spread four wings in response.
"Pwe!"
Red mist enveloped Jaeger. Soon, bleeding stopped; wounds healed. Spilled blood flowed back in. Jaeger's seemingly lifeless jaws twitched.
"Kuhk, truly... miraculous."
"Alive? Shut up and lie still."
"...Thanks."
He'd passed the crisis. Thanking, Jaeger passed out. Turning, Secret already scanned seriously.
"I see. The curse has definitely strengthened. Need to handle it temporarily."
He'd grasped the situation. Without asking details, Secret prepared an exorcism. Ronan asked,
"No exorcism materials?"
"Better with, but gotta try. Ronan, just keep everyone away from me."
"Pardon?"
Suddenly, Secret dashed to the village center. Picking a branch, he drew geometric patterns in the snow. Ronan quickly realized it was a magic circle.
"This is..."
"Rujinka. Ranabiel. Derado."
⟨ Exorcism Ritual ⟩
As Secret chanted, the magic circle glowed faintly. White light from it pushed back shadows, expanding slowly. Soon, a hemisphere of slightly brighter light covered the tribe.
"Gr...grrruk..."
"Daughter. Y-you awake?"
"Wh-what is this light?"
The malformed changes halted. Screams faded. Bitter air and thick shadows normalized. Secret slumped, wiping his brow.
"Phew... Crisis averted for now."
"Impressive. Is the exorcism done?"
"Sadly no. Stronger than I thought. But first, one question."
Ronan guessed what. Secret's gaze fixed on gasping Jaeger. Ronan nodded.
"Anything. But hear my explanation first."
"Explanation?"
"Yes. I'll keep it brief. So..."
Ronan summarized what he'd seen and heard. True mastermind Barca Tergun; must chase to Heiran. Secret's round eyes widened.
"My god. Sword Saint had a brother? And that scum's the curse caster?"
"Not just that—seems he uses necromancy too. More questions?"
"...No. None."
Even Secret hadn't known of Barca. Not wanting to drag on, Ronan asked,
"Professor. How to fully lift the curse? No time."
"...Make the caster dispel it or kill him. This is... unbelievable..."
Secret muttered, forming hypotheses and plans—mage's thirst for knowledge. He'd be at it awhile.
"Gotta see blood after all."
Ronan drew the Bloodline Needle. Needle still, Barca out of range. Adeshan approached, done.
"Good work, Senior. Things escalated."
"...Yeah."
"What? You okay?"
Odd tone worried Ronan. No reply this time. Her gaze on the Bloodline Needle marking Barca's position. Large eyes dulled to dark gray.
"...Senior?"
No answer. Couldn't read her mind, but not positive thoughts.
Barca's cruelty sending child corpse-assassin paled against masterminding the Fang Night massacre. As hated as incompetent commanders.
"...Yeah. I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you."
Adeshan looked up late, faint smile. Not her usual warmth—a forced one suppressing emotions.
The three people and one bird returned to Rundalian first. Werewolves they'd saved saw them off. Jaeger taken to tribe's mountain base by some.
"Shall we head out?"
"Yeah."
Curse strengthening across the stakes—no more delay. Ronan and Adeshan stayed one night in Rundalian, then began anew. Destination: Heiran. Continent's northern tip, Barca Tergun's stronghold in the polar wastes.