Chapter 318
Chapter 318
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 318
Chapter Title: Side Story 2. Dream-Drinking Bird (1)
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"Shit... where the hell did I drop it?"
Ronan grumbled. He had been climbing Numburton Hill since the crack of dawn. It was because he had lost the orb that had been in his pocket after his fight with Abel.
'Figures something I don't even know what it is would give me grief.'
At least he had realized it the very next day. He didn't know what it was, but given the circumstances under which he had obtained it, it wasn't something he could just toss away.
He had searched everywhere else, so this was the only place left. Amid the dim dawn air, the oak tree swayed in the wind. It was while he was approaching Cain's grave.
"Whoooosh!"
"Fuck!"
A bizarre, raucous sound echoed from somewhere. Startled, Ronan cursed.
"What the hell is that?"
He nearly tumbled backward. Ronan placed his hand on his sword hilt. The unidentified roar had clearly come from in front of Cain's tombstone. As he drew closer, a familiar lump caught his eye.
A rough surface like shark scales. It was undoubtedly the item he had lost. Picking it up, Ronan tilted his head.
"...Hasn't this gotten a bit bigger?"
****
Ronan visited Baren that afternoon. Phileon Tower 13, where Baren lived, had miraculously escaped damage even during the war with Nebula Klazier. After knocking a couple of times, Ronan turned the doorknob.
"Hey. Baren."
No sooner had he opened the office door than a sweet aroma wafted out. The 3-meter-tall were-lion was baking cookies today as well, in a manner utterly at odds with his massive frame. Spotting Ronan, Baren beamed.
"Oh, the hero who saved the world graces us."
"I told you not to call me that. You've put on even more weight."
"Hahaha. Call it happiness, not weight. Virtue works too."
Baren laughed. His thick mane puffed up alongside his plump cheeks. He was wearing a baggy sweater that could double as a tent for a small human.
'Damn. Anyone seeing him would think he's pregnant.'
Ronan snickered at the ridiculous sight. Baren no longer wore suits unless it was for a major event. Compared to two years ago, his once-chiseled muscular build had noticeably softened.
His were-pig transformation had accelerated after Ronan and his friends entered their senior year. Baren claimed it was due to marital bliss, but Ronan was convinced it was because the elite adventure club no longer stressed him out with their antics.
"How's your wife? Still in the military?"
"Ah, Nemeaa retired from her brigade this year and is now overseeing crop cultivation back on the estate. Seems to suit her perfectly, being a managerial role."
Baren sat on the sofa, holding a tray of treats. Pffft! The cushion sank under his buttocks' curves, as if screaming for mercy.
Baren had married Major Nemeaa, once Zaiper's adjutant, about a year ago. Looking back, Baren had been the most stylish man in Phileon—no, the entire capital—at the time. His well-groomed mane always gleamed, and his外出 outfits frequently graced the pages of imperial fashion magazines.
And that wasn't all. Thanks to the special potions he had supplied, Baren had earned great merit in the war and received half of the Brinhills Plains as additional land. It hadn't taken long for him to expand his business and become one of the continent's top tycoons.
For such a dashing gentleman to turn into this pot-bellied uncle... It was too stark a contrast with Nemeaa, who retained her stunning beauty even as a married woman. Staring at Baren's belly, Ronan spoke up.
"She didn't get tricked into a sham marriage and give you hell for it?"
"Hahaha. On the contrary, she says I've become more dependable and loves it. Ronan... student—no, you're no longer a student. Anyway, thanks to you, I found a wonderful partner."
Baren laughed. Ronan found it exasperating, but tastes varied, so he had nothing more to say. Rifling through his pocket, he pulled out the fist-sized orb.
"Glad you're happy. Hey, if you have time, could you take a look at this?"
"Hm? What's that?"
"It was in my pocket after the fight with Abel. It seemed unusual, so I kept meaning to bring it to you, but I forgot until now..."
Ronan handed the orb to Baren. It was something he should have shown two years ago. Examining it, Baren let out a low hum.
"Hmm... This is truly baffling. No mana I can sense, but it's not ordinary ore either. This texture is the strangest since Cita's eggshell."
"Right? That's why I brought it. It kinda looks like an egg."
Ronan nodded vigorously. The mysterious orb did give off a vibe similar to Cita's egg. Munching on a cookie, he continued.
"Could it be a dream bird egg? No idea how it ended up in my pocket, though."
"Ho, a dream bird... Intriguing hypothesis. If it's alright, may I study it a bit?"
Baren's eyes sparkled at the mention of dream bird. Marfez, who had been dozing on his desk as usual, opened its eyes.
-Pii?
Its blue, fluffy feathers were the same as ever. The dream bird that ran across water had been Baren's companion for decades. Like its owner, it had gained weight, increasing in volume by about 1.5 times—an impressive sight.
"Sure, go ahead. I'll step out for a bit..."
Ronan stood. It had only been a day since he quit smoking, but withdrawal was making his hands tremble.
'Gotta get some fresh air.'
Becoming a good father wasn't easy. As he moved to leave the office, the door creaked open, and a familiar woman entered.
"Ronan. There you are."
"Instructor Naviroje?"
"Good to see you after so long. Doing well?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Shocked by Baren's wrecked physique, her even more refined figure stood out first. Her perfectly proportioned curves couldn't be hidden by her uniform.
'That's more like it. People shouldn't fall apart just because they're happy.'
Thumbs up in his mind, Ronan grinned. He was vowing never to end up like Baren when Naviroje's face shadowed over.
"I bet."
"Pardon?"
Before he could respond, crack! Naviroje closed the distance in an instant and drove a fist into his abdomen. Caught off guard by the surprise attack, his body doubled over.
"Gahk!"
"You insolent brat. Follow me."
Her hand clamped onto his ear next. Her index and thumb, capable of piercing coconuts, made the grown man flail like a salmon on a line. Naviroje dragged him out of the office.
"Gyaaaah! Save me, Baren!"
Ronan screamed desperately, but Baren, engrossed in his research, didn't hear. Naviroje only released him on the roof of Tower 13. The bustling campus sprawled beneath the afternoon sky.
"This should do. Nice day."
"Damn it, what the hell was that out of nowhere?!"
Finally free, Ronan yelled. His flushed earlobe still bore clear fingerprints. Naviroje said,
"I heard everything, you foul-mouthed punk."
"Heard what from who?"
"News about Adeshan. Getting her pregnant before even marrying her properly. If you have a mouth, try defending yourself."
Ronan gasped at the unexpected words. A cool spring breeze blew over the railing.
"What? How'd you know? I didn't tell anyone."
"She told me herself. Asked my opinion on names. I said I'd think it over and get back to her."
Suddenly, Naviroje pulled a pipe from her bosom and lit it. So she had started smoking again after quitting. Seeing the smoke dissipate in the wind made his hands tremble anew.
"...Southern Toruba Mountain blend."
"Yeah. Nothing beats leaves grown on homeland soil. Want a puff?"
"No. Quitting."
Ronan clenched his fist. He desperately wanted to snatch it and smoke, but thinking of Adeshan, devoted to prenatal care, he couldn't.
"Commendable resolve. So it wasn't an accident."
Naviroje smirked and extinguished the pipe. She seemed to have guessed his reason for quitting. After a pause, she continued.
"Ronan. Adeshan is like a daughter to me."
"...Pardon?"
"Figuratively. You know she's special to me."
Ronan nodded. Anyone who had seen them would know. Many Phileon students even mistook them for blood relatives.
"And you're special too. Not creepily like a son as with Adeshan, but... I want you two lovers to be happier than anyone."
"Uh... thanks. So why'd you hit me? Speeding?"
Ronan asked. His gut still throbbed. Contrary to the rough start, the conversation was turning warmly mundane.
"That too, but... I punched you for not telling me the good news. Anyone else I wouldn't care, but you should've told me. I could've helped."
"Mm. Should've told you. But weren't you single all this time? You said showing your body naked was a first... Guk!"
Naviroje's fist slammed into his stomach again. Realizing too late it was punch-worthy, he didn't block or dodge.
'Damn, she showed it so casually back then.'
Hitting the same spot hurt more. Naviroje brushed her slightly reddened face.
"...That's separate. I can help as a fellow woman."
"Urk, you're right... My bad."
"Fine. More than anything, I'm glad you don't treat the pregnancy as a mistake. If you had, I wouldn't have let it slide."
Naviroje's voice lowered briefly. A chilling killing intent flickered in her emerald eyes and vanished. Clutching the railing and dry-heaving, Ronan looked up.
"No way. She's my woman."
"...You're a good one. Quit whining and stand for your gift."
"Gift?"
Rising, Ronan tilted his head. Naviroje glanced around, stepped back from the railing to the roof's center—as if to avoid damaging the campus.
"Yes. Only you can receive this as a gift. I have class soon, so I'll show you just once."
"Pardon? What do you..."
Ronan frowned. Showing, not giving? He couldn't parse it. Then Naviroje slowly drew her great sword.
"The key is making your opponent understand you're the predator."
Still confused, Ronan opened his mouth to ask. Whoosh! Suddenly, darkness engulfed his vision. His eyes widened.
"This."
A familiar discomfort. His limbs felt rusted, immobile.
His senses withered away. Steadying his breath, he closed and opened his eyes slowly. Naviroje was gone. In her place coiled a massive venomous serpent.
"You're strong enough already, but you might need it someday."
The snake spoke. It was Mansha, the aura that had made Naviroje a Sword Saint. Her growth was evident in the serpent's vastly larger body.
"Instructor."
An unexpected gift. As Ronan tried to speak, boom! A massive explosion echoed, and light flooded the area.
"Shit, what?!"
"Hm...!"
Startled, Ronan hunched. Naviroje had drawn her sword into a stance. As the roof fully lit up, their eyes widened at the sight.
"Cita?!"
"Piii... pi?"
Cita had appeared from nowhere, belly-up and unconscious. Its enormous size had its four wings dangling over the railing. Unconscious but seemingly unharmed. Naviroje sighed.
"Looks like it entered Mansha's range trying to reach you. Sorry."
"It's tough, so that's fine. But this guy..."
Ronan trailed off. Cita's cheeks bulged like a squirrel's with acorns. Probing its mouth yielded something: a mysterious statue plastered with yellow paper scribbled in red ink—unreadable script.
Naviroje's eyes narrowed.
"This... is from the New World."