Chapter 354
Chapter 354
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 354
Chapter Title: Side Story 38. Beasts (10)
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"Y-You're going to turn me back into a beastman?"
"That's right. It's about time. It's not quite at a satisfactory level, but..."
Secret looked Baren up and down and smacked his lips.
His body, which had been close to spherical, now had some manly angles to it.
Indeed, nothing beat uninvited hardship for shedding excess fat.
Baren's brow furrowed.
"If that were possible..."
"Hm? What was that?"
"If that were possible, why didn't you do it sooner?! Do you have any idea how many innocent lives were sacrificed because of this?! All because of my fat—you kept me like this all this time?!"
Unable to hold back any longer, Baren roared.
No matter how inscrutable the man was, this was one line he couldn't let slide.
Secret nodded calmly.
"That's right."
"Why..."
"No choice. With you all flabby like that, you couldn't guarantee victory against that panther friend over there, let alone the entire Northwind Unit."
Baren flinched, struck right in his weak spot.
It was just as he said.
In the past, he would have charged straight in, but he'd had to disguise himself as some pretty boy and sneak around.
Even Blanta had initially been captured by the Northwind Unit, so victory wasn't assured even in his non-human true form.
"Where do you think you're running?!"
Blanta was still massacring the beastmen.
His fighting style was flashy yet efficient, befitting a natural-born warrior.
And he wasn't even using aura, much less mana.
His antics were crude, but as a warrior, his skill far surpassed his wife Nemeia's.
"Honestly, when I first met you in Heiran, I almost didn't recognize you. You'd regressed in every way except weight. Baren Phanasir using aura just to take down a few wolves? I nearly fainted."
"Th-That was..."
"Let's undo this first. It's suffocating."
"...Understood."
Baren did as told.
A golden glow flashed.
Bam!
As Baren tensed his body, the chains binding the two snapped.
Secret rolled his shoulders like he was stretching and continued.
"I'm not blaming you. It was that kind of era. What we're seeing now is just a fraction of the tragedy—overall, it's a peaceful world. Growing complacent in peace isn't a bad thing at all."
Secret's gaze lingered on the village below the cliff.
In the Northwind Unit's base village, sharp bell tolls rang out without cease.
They must have realized something had happened at the fortress.
At this rate, they'd have to fight the armed villagers too.
"But there are still lands the sun hasn't reached. Places where grudges and hatred have festered so long that no ordinary method can save them. To redeem such places, you need a hero who can sever the knot in one stroke. Like Ronan, Mage Asel, or Zaifa..."
Secret pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket.
The same one he'd used to turn Baren human.
As his fluffy tail wagged, various herbs dropped one by one.
Once the magic circle was complete, Secret poked Baren's belly with his finger.
"A hero like you."
"...I'm no such great man."
"Don't make me laugh. You know how many lives your potions have saved, right? And you used that immense fortune to aid those suffering in war."
Secret snorted.
He valued Baren as highly as Ronan, who had slain giants. As a great merchant, Baren had used his wealth more valuably than anyone, and among those who survived the final war, none hadn't benefited from his virtue.
"You don't have to slay dragons and rescue princesses to be a hero. But unfairly enough, you have that power. Baren, you were born with a tougher body than any were-lion I've seen."
"Secret..."
"Enough humility. You've finally lost the weight—go show off a bit."
Secret clapped his hands.
Light rose according to the magic circle's pattern.
The curse-lifting energy began climbing up Baren's legs.
"And this is just a bit of grandmotherly advice..."
"Yes?"
"The real opponent you need to stop might not be Blanta."
His voice was grave.
Baren asked what he meant, but no answer came.
Throughout the incantation, Secret's eyes remained fixed on the fortress where Zaifa was fighting.
****
The snowfall was intensifying.
"What? Already done?"
Blanta snorted.
His body, fresh from battle, was drenched in red blood.
Dozens of beastmen lay as cold corpses scattered on the ground.
"Told ya to know your place. That's why you die."
"Guh... kuhuk..."
Under Blanta's foot lay a fellow wear-panther, the sole survivor today.
A man blinded simply because Blanta didn't like his glare.
"How... how could you... slaughter your own kin like that..."
The wear-panther sobbed.
His trembling voice brimmed with unconcealed hatred.
All his abducted hometown friends had been killed by Blanta.
The image of Blanta ripping off their limbs while they were alive to thrill the crowd was still vivid.
"Hm? Had family or friends in the arena? Sorry, killed so many I can't remember."
"You... kuk, beast!"
"Beast, huh? Not wrong."
Blanta laughed.
To him, who pursued a life faithful to his desires, it was as good as praise.
He pressed more weight onto the leg crushing the man.
"On the flip side, while locked up here, did you think you were human?"
"Guk...!"
"That's why your lot died and got their eyes gouged. If you can't enjoy it, at least try. To become a beast."
The man spat blood as his guts were crushed.
He desperately wanted to rise and tear the bastard apart, but wounded and blind, all he could do was writhe like a bug.
As Blanta chuckled, forgetting his mission.
"Blanta. That's far enough."
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came from behind.
"What?"
Blanta turned.
In the snowy plain whipped by blizzard, a lump protruded.
So massive he first mistook it for a boulder.
Blanta rubbed his eyes twice before realizing it was a beastman like him.
"...Where'd you pop from?"
"Hup!"
Blanta kicked the wear-panther away.
His eyes narrowed, sensing threat.
As snow eased for a moment, the lump's form fully revealed.
Were-lion.
The beastman race known as most ferocious alongside wear-tigers.
A giant lion, head and shoulders taller than him, stared silently.
"...A lion got captured too? Don't remember."
"Blanta. This is your last chance."
"Chance?"
"Yes. Stop the slaughter and surrender. The Northwind Unit is disbanded as of today. Your leader will never achieve his goal."
Baren said calmly.
His lush mane danced in the blizzard.
Absurd words, but Blanta didn't laugh.
He could tell at a glance.
That bulk was an immense powerhouse.
A bit of fat, but no issue.
His taut muscles were like a master's sculpture.
Blanta wiped blood from his face.
"Look at you, must've been fartin' around somewhere. Or what?"
"I'll have to deal with you here."
"Ha, 'deal with'."
Blanta scoffed mockingly.
His confidence bordered on arrogance.
Fully facing Baren, he lowered his stance.
"Cocky bastard... if you're so great, try me. You look like you'd taste good."
Backing down from that wouldn't make him a man.
Blanta's heart pounded.
Aura, unused since joining Northwind, surged through his veins.
"Please don't die pathetically."
His pupils narrowed as combat began.
Muscles swelled like they might burst.
Dark red flames erupted over his blood-crusted fists.
Not real fire—an illusion from aura.
"I'll skin you alive and make a carpet!"
Blanta roared.
His bellow echoed beyond the fortress.
Flames intensified.
Fire climbed his arms, soon enveloping his body.
In an instant, he vanished from sight.
'As expected...'
Baren murmured in admiration.
The speed far exceeded expectations.
The wear-panther streaking with a red trail was like a hell-fired bullet.
'If we'd fought before I lost the weight, I might've really lost.'
Secret's judgment was spot on.
Not for nothing Zaifa's armed guard.
The claim that only the North's strongest warriors joined was no lie.
'Bastard. All talk after all.'
Charging Blanta smirked.
Baren stood motionless.
No expression change—clearly frozen in fear.
Bored, Blanta raised his claws.
Planned to punch, but ripping out the heart seemed cleaner.
"Die!"
Blanta shouted.
Just before sharp claws dug into Baren's chest.
Baren's hand by his thigh blurred.
A black shadow loomed before Blanta's eyes.
"Huh?"
Blanta's eyes widened.
The shadow, covering his view, was a massive fist.
Collision inevitable.
His body instinctively tried to halt, but Baren's fist was already plunging into his face.
As slowed time resumed.
Kwaaaang!!!
Blanta slammed into the ground.
A demolition-level boom shook the earth.
His head, following the fist's path, cratered the surface.
Baren, catching his breath, said calmly.
"Regrettable."
"......"
No reply.
Blanta, head buried, convulsed like electrocuted.
The flames around him died down.
"Haa..."
Baren sighed in relief.
Sending off a promising powerhouse—and a fellow beastman—like this was tragic.
Yet separately, his overwhelmingly improved physical prowess was astonishing.
'It's been ages since I felt this. Humanization had such effects.'
His were-lion instincts rampaged.
The boiling blood sensation was decades old.
Fresh white snow piled on the limp wear-panther corpse.
As Baren scanned for the next destination.
An unprecedented chill assaulted him.
"...What is this?!"
His mane bristled.
Muscles stiffened, warning of a dire foe.
Turning reflexively, Baren froze.
The unprecedented ferocious aura emanated from the fortress where Zaifa fought.