Chapter 229
Chapter 229
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 229
Chapter Title: Sea Route, to the Dragon's City (2)
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The severed galleon was slowly splitting apart and sinking. It was an elegant motion, like a butterfly spreading its wings. Desperate screams echoed across the sea.
"The ship, the ship!"
"Aaaah! Save us!"
Those who luckily dodged the sword strike jumped from the ship. The people escaping through the cut cross-section reminded him of rats fleeing before an earthquake. Watching the sinking galleon, Schlieffen muttered indifferently.
"Softer than I expected."
"You bastard..."
Ronan chuckled. Whether in power or range, it had improved to a level incomparable to before. The blade that had turned to wind was returning to its original form.
'A genius is a genius, huh.'
He'd thought he'd gotten a bit rusty from fooling around with his sister, but that was a perfect misunderstanding. No matter what anyone said, this guy was the continent's greatest swordsman and the Empire's rising star.
Even if they fought seriously right now, he probably couldn't guarantee a win. At that moment, Schlieffen, who had been looking toward the galleon, spoke up.
"They're still coming? I thought one slash would stop them."
"Huh?"
Ronan shifted his gaze. The remaining two galleons were rapidly closing in. The shipwrecked survivors were screaming for rescue, but there was no sign of them stopping.
It seemed dealing with them took priority over saving their comrades. Suddenly, flashes erupted from the bows of the two galleons. Whoosh—! The whistling sounds from before spread in a chain.
"Ah. Gonna go all the way, huh?"
Ronan whistled. This time, he saw it clearly. Exactly twenty-three cannonballs were slicing through the air toward them.
He'd been caught off guard by the surprise attack earlier, but now there was nothing he couldn't block. As he gripped his sword hilt, a red crescent slashed horizontally. Sword ki fired in a fan shape intercepted the cannonballs. Boom! A wall of flame and smoke appeared between the two galleons and Ronan. Panicked shouts reached them.
"D-Damn it, what the hell is that?!"
The wall soon dispersed in the sea breeze. The now-closer galleons revealed themselves.
He had no intention of giving them time to reload. Schlieffen immediately assumed position and swung his sword as if uprooting something. The blade of wind struck both galleons directly once more. Crash! The upper sections of the ships, sliced diagonally, slid into the sea.
"More bland than expected."
Ronan lowered his sword. He'd hoped for a bit more, but this was barely a warm-up. At that moment, several dark clumps shot up from the sinking galleon like fireworks.
"Hm?"
Sensing presences, Ronan narrowed his eyes. They didn't look like cannonballs by size, but the sunlight was too bright to identify them clearly.
The clumps, tracing near-vertical parabolas, finally came close enough to identify. The two young men furrowed their brows.
"...People?"
"Seems like it."
Heavily armored giants were falling like shooting stars. It was an unheard-of type of airborne unit.
Each one looked heavy enough that a collision would be fatal. The giants, making eye contact with the group, bellowed roars.
"You fuckers! I'll kill you all!!"
"In the name of Lord Dravie!"
Their thunderous voices suggested they were quite heated. Well, their ships had been sunk before they could do anything.
Suddenly, a tattoo on a bald man's head caught his eye. The poison dragon emblem was definitely one he'd seen at Aurora Skal.
Damn, monsters that could transform. Ronan sighed faintly and spoke.
"Get ready. These guys look pretty tough."
There were at least twenty of them. He could kill them all, but if they hit the ship in that state, this sleek sloop wouldn't hold and would be destroyed.
It was a hassle, but no choice. If he could somehow repair the mast, it might prevent Itargand from collapsing from high blood pressure. Chopping them up to disperse the weight should make it bearable.
"The key is to slice them all."
"As long as the big chunks are gone, it'll be fine. The ship'll get messy, but no helping it."
"Understood."
Schlieffen nodded, grasping the intent. His blade, turned to wind, began to surge. The vortex of condensed sword wind growled, demanding something to tear apart.
He was quick on the uptake. As Ronan gripped his hilt, crimson sunset hues climbed his blade. Just as he was about to move, the falling giants' bodies halted in midair.
"Huh?"
Ronan and Schlieffen froze. It was like a swarm of flies caught in a web. Bewildered cries erupted from various spots.
"M-My body won't move...!"
"Cowardly bastards, what trick did you pull?!"
From their reactions, it didn't seem like their doing. Suddenly, feeling a shadow overhead, Ronan turned.
"The mast?"
The broken mast stood tall, restored. Ice emitting eerie chill fused the cannon-damaged section.
"This is...!"
Ronan's eyes widened. Crude, but it had regained its function as a mast. A terrified boy's voice came from below.
"Eek! D-Don't yell!"
Asel shrank at the giants' shouts. His left hand stretched toward the sky. Schlieffen blinked in astonishment. Ronan let out an incredulous chuckle.
"Knew I picked the right guy."
"R-Ronan! Got 'em!"
Asel shouted. Despite his frail appearance, the psychokinetic force was terrifying. And he didn't even seem strained now—maybe the strongest among them. Ronan praised him admiringly.
"Well done. Asel, hold them like that."
"Huh? Like this...?"
As Asel tried to continue, Ronan and Schlieffen, exchanging quick glances, swung their swords simultaneously.
Red and blue sword ki shot toward the giants suspended in the air. Without hesitation, the ki slashed through their bodies. Splash! Blood, entrails, and body parts exploded out, raining down on the young men. Thud! Asel's eyes met a severed head that landed at his feet, and he screamed.
"Eeeek! Hiiiaaak! Fwaaaah!"
"Hey, don't drop 'em, hold steady."
"W-Wait! Kyaaah! An eyeball went down my back, an e-eyeball!"
Asel flailed but didn't release his psychokinesis. The one-sided slaughter continued. The green-fanged warriors with tattoos couldn't even transform, dying without proper death cries.
"Such cowards... Gah!"
"Spare... Heuk!"
"Dra... Kyaaak!"
Hot blood soaked their heads. A dizzying metallic stench spread like wildfire. The sticky blood raining like downpour drenched the deck, sails, and prow, making this sloop even more fitting for the name "Red Whirlwind." The impacts of severed limbs hitting the deck echoed like rain.
As Ronan predicted, slicing reduced volume and impact on the hull. Not damage-free, but Itargand would forgive these scratches. Bloodied sails could be washed.
Guts escaping their bodies dangled from the mast like ribbons. Within seconds, all attackers were dead except one. The lone old man, bound in midair, flailed and pleaded.
"W-Wait! Please, please spare me!"
"Shall I?"
Ronan nodded. Simultaneously, the red aura flickering along his blade subsided. Schlieffen, about to unleash Storm Sword, spoke.
"Gonna extract info?"
"Yeah. Asel, if you would."
"Hng... O-Okay...!"
Ronan had Asel lower the old man. Asel, retching, released the binding spell. Thud! The old man groaned in pain on the deck.
"Ugh... Uuuh! Y-You... What are you...!"
"You don't need to know that, old timer. If you wanna enjoy a peaceful retirement with all limbs intact, spill what you know. Why attack us, what this Dravie guy does... that sorta thing."
"Cough!"
Ronan stomped his back. Wrinkled grandpa or not, no mercy for someone trying to kill him. The wriggling old man barely lifted his head.
"I-I'll tell you everything...! So remove that foot. Can't breathe."
"Fine."
"Th-Thank you... Truly grateful."
Ronan lifted his foot. The old man cautiously rose, glancing around. A tattoo on his throat caught the eye. Odd place for it.
Might as well gather info since time was delayed. Didikan had said the boss Dravie traveled between Adren and the outside.
Someone high enough for a tattoo likely knew something. With his life on the line, no tricks. Rubbing his neck, the old man spoke.
"As promised, I'll tell all. My words are..."
"Your words?"
"My words are, well... Die!!"
Suddenly, the old man lunged, arms outstretched. His muscles swelled, transforming into a monstrous form. The size difference suggested he aimed to crush.
"Well now."
Ronan tilted his head at the abrupt move. Couldn't understand. Normally, showing such a gap breaks the will to submit.
Easily dodging, he swung. Red lines appeared on the old man's left arm and thigh. As he turned, realizing the miss—Splash! The left limbs flew into the air.
"H- Huh?!"
"Happy retirement's gone. Why bother with useless stuff."
The one-legged old man collapsed, spraying blood. Ronan stomped his neck hard. Resistance was fierce now. Ignoring blood loss, twisting wildly, he screamed desperately.
"Get off! I-I have to kill or capture you!"
"Doubt that's happening."
"G-Get captured then! For your sake! Or else...!"
As the old man spoke, his throat tattoo suddenly glowed. Despair filled his wrinkled face. He clutched his neck with both hands.
"A-Already...! Gruuk..."
The old man gagged as if choking. The tattoo emitted green light. The pulsing quickened—bad sign.
"Don't wanna talk? Piss off!"
Sensing danger instinctively, Ronan hurled him overboard. As the body splashed into the sea like a shot put—Kwaaa! Green-purple smoke burst from his orifices.
"Guoooh! Guek!"
The most wretched scream of the day echoed. Gas from nose, mouth, even eye sockets' rims was chillingly ominous.
"Hiiiaaak! W-What is that?!"
"This is."
Asel and Schlieffen raised brows. The old man's teeth melted on smoke contact. Eyeballs shriveled like raisins, sinking into sockets.
His body withered like a dried flower. Realizing, Ronan yelled urgently.
"Damn, poison! Cover noses and mouths!"
"Mmph!"
He grabbed Schlieffen's nape and dashed to Asel at the mast. No antidote handy—poisoning would complicate things. Escape the area before ship damage.
The toxic cloud rose high, unyielding to wind. A chilling incongruity brushed Ronan's nape.
'Wait... Not dispersing?'
Too unnatural for simple suicide. Open sea, old man's pre-activation attitude, the cloud's eye-catching gleam rising high—like signaling someone. Soon grasping it, Ronan spoke.
"Asel. Get us out of here."
"Eek! O-Okay?"
"Damn, no time. Psychokinesis, whatever—do it."
Ronan gripped Asel's shoulders. Panicking Asel complied. As invisible force pushed the stern—a massive shadow rose over the distant Phashanti Archipelago's jungle.