Chapter 362
Chapter 362
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 362
Chapter Title: Side Story 47. Guardian of the Family (6)
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“What?”
“That guy took a massive dump too.”
Kiersaji turned his head.
A man was standing at the entrance to the lab, which had been empty just moments ago.
He was drenched in blood from head to toe, gripping his sword—a sight that evoked the image of a vengeful demon.
“...How did you get in here? The defense systems should be active.”
But Kiersaji wasn't rattled by the man's appearance.
This was a cave at the heart of an ancient ruin.
A secret hideout undiscovered for over fifty years.
To enter, one had to breach more than twenty defensive spells and sentries—not to mention it was designed to withstand even an army-scale assault.
Ronan replied indifferently.
“Just walked in.”
“Don't give me that nonsense...”
“It's true.”
In truth, Kiersaji's defenses were exceptionally solid.
Any ordinary foe wouldn't have gotten close, and it would have bought enough time to escape at least.
His misfortune was that the intruder was Ronan.
“A few sword swings, and it was done.”
Though much time had passed, the power of the star's blood remained undiminished.
All Ronan had done was unleash slashes whenever suspicious mana stirred or something lunged out.
After repeating that about twenty times, he'd reached Kiersaji's lab.
“Don't make me laugh. It's not that flimsy a setup. What trick did you...”
“Enough. I'm not here for a chat.”
“What?”
“I'll give you a chance for final words. Why pull this crap?”
Ronan pointed his sword tip at Kiersaji.
This guy was clearly the mastermind behind the undead army.
Ronan usually wouldn't bother with explanations before cutting someone down, but this time piqued his interest.
What riches could tempt this wrinkled old coot to hole up in a cave and stir up this mess?
“You're a funny one. I have no reason to answer that.”
“Surprising. Most can't wait to brag about their 'grand' schemes.”
“The stench is foul enough as is. It was fun talking after so long. I'll put your corpse to good use, so die already.”
Kiersaji dry-heaved.
The rotten stench of blood made breathing a chore.
He snapped his fingers while glaring at Ronan.
Kwaaaaa!
A geometric magic circle materialized in the air, firing a deep purple beam.
“Good bones. Skeleton material for sure.”
It was his favorite spell—one that separated flesh from bone.
The beam engulfed Ronan.
Kiersaji returned to his desk, pondering bone uses, when—
“The smell's coming from you, you walking corpse.”
“What...!”
“Groping corpses day in, day out—did your conscience rot too?”
A voice echoed from within the beam.
Kiersaji whipped around, brows shooting up.
Ronan stood unscathed.
The beam parted around his vertically raised blade.
“I was gonna let you go easy, but nah. Time for reconstructive education.”
“You bastard!”
Ronan sighed.
Kiersaji belatedly sensed the danger and assumed a battle stance.
Whatever trick he'd used, this guy was no pushover.
'Full power from the start.'
Once a rising star at Phileon Academy, the man grabbed a grimoire and chanted like singing.
Three high-tier spells activated simultaneously.
A rift tore open behind him, revealing a massive demon.
【Guahak!!】
The netherworld beast was a monster even he couldn't fully control.
Dozens of decomposition beam circles floated around the lab.
Finally, skeletal claws burst from the ground, covering Ronan's position.
...Hold on.
His position?
“What.”
Kiersaji gasped.
Ronan was gone.
He'd been right there moments ago—vanished without a trace.
As Kiersaji's eyes darted around, a breeze stirred.
Red lines slashed across his limbs.
“Huh?”
It took time to process.
Blood welled thick along the lines.
Sensation vanished below his pelvis—then his vision plummeted.
“Hngh!”
Both shoulders followed.
His severed limbs flew through the air.
Only then did Kiersaji realize lines scarred everything in sight.
The giant skeletal claw, the demon's head, the floating circles—all rent by red gashes.
As his maggot-like torso hit the floor—
Pububububuk!!
All lines burst open in a chain explosion.
“N-No!”
【Kieek?!】
The world flashed red for an instant.
The nether beast shattered before stepping forward, forcibly banished.
The steel-hard claw crumbled into hundreds of shards.
The shredded circles lost meaning and faded.
“Kuhak!”
Kiersaji vomited blood.
He couldn't comprehend what happened.
Ronan's slashes had cleaved everything but his research materials.
Agony hit late, overwhelming him.
“Gaaahhh! Krgh, aaaagh!!”
The cuts were clean, but pain didn't care.
As he writhed from limb loss—
Thwack!
A blow to the back of his head snapped his consciousness.
“Urk...”
“Good. Still alive.”
Ronan grinned, satisfied.
A rough kick to the head, but he'd gauged the force well.
Regardless of personality or goals, the guy seemed competent—useful if captured.
Grabbing Kiersaji's hair, Ronan muttered wistfully.
“Setting up your lab outside would've been nice. Coulda shown off to the kids.”
He felt a bit cheated.
Asel and Orse had probably finished the undead by now.
They must've gone flashy; compared to them, his efforts seemed too plain.
“Can't be helped... I'm just a lowly swordswinger.”
Ronan smacked his lips.
Still, holding his own against a grand mage and empire-burning dragon felt decent.
Glancing around, he stuffed Kiersaji into a suitable sack.
A limbless geezer wouldn't do the kids' mental growth any favors.
Packing key documents, Ronan left without noticing eyes watching him.
“Kya, you smashed it to bits.”
The outside air reeked.
Ronan chuckled wryly upon exiting the cave.
His flashy prediction was spot-on.
The landscape resembled a chunk of hell transplanted here.
'Can they even restore this?'
The southern wind carried ash and embers.
The undead-infested plain was now a massive crater.
Thick, magma-like flames roiled from the sunken earth.
Black smoke blotted the sun.
The blaze was so fierce, even corpse stench was absent.
As Ronan admired the inferno—
“Pkyaaa!”
“Eh?”
A familiar cry echoed nearby.
Before he looked up—
Sita dove through the smoke, landing before him.
“Pkyat! Pkyaak!”
“Sita? Why're you here?”
Ronan's eyes widened.
The dream bird, cloaked in jet-black feathers, was unmistakably Sita.
Why was the northern playbird down south?
Sita rubbed cheeks against Ronan's face, then bowed its head.
“What, hop on?”
“Pkyit!”
Sita nodded.
Flustered but compliant, Ronan mounted.
Faster than sound, Sita crossed the crater to the destination.
In a flame-free clearing, Asel, the Lanse trio, and human-form Orse gathered.
Asel waved at Ronan.
“R-Ronan! No issues?”
“As you see. But why's Sita here?”
“Well, I didn't know either, but seems the Grand General sent it. In case someone got hurt... Note was tied to its leg.”
“Our dear wife did?”
Asel nodded, showing the note.
Fine paper bore Adeshan's script: She trusted Ronan and Asel, but as a mother, worry prompted tailing via Sita. P.S. Love you.
Ronan chuckled.
“Thorough as always.”
“Yeah... If true, it's been tailing since Orse flew in. Didn't notice at all.”
“Well, everyone knows Sita's wings are silent... Anyway, what happened? Why're the kids like that?”
Ronan pointed at them.
Lanse and Sechika clung to trees, vomiting guts out.
“R-Ronan Uncle... here? Urk!”
“Uuek! Ueeek! Kheuk, keuk!”
Tears and snot streamed—tear gas victims, seemingly.
Erin alone was fine.
She wailed beside vomiting Lanse.
“Why not Erin! Don't ditch me—show Erin too!”
“No... Urk! Absolutely not.”
“Waaah! I wanna see too!”
Lanse buried his face in dirt, shaking his head.
His right hand clenched something fiercely—death grip.
This wouldn't do.
Ronan strode over, snatching it from Lanse.
“Kid. What's with the death grip? Navardoje's nude pics or what?”
“D-Dad!”
It was a small magic tool.
A cube etched with complex spells—Ronan recalled it recorded and projected footage.
Lanse reached desperately, futilely.
Ronan snickered.
“Lemme see what you're hiding.”
“I-It's fine, but not for Erin. Erin can't!”
“What's the fuss? Oh, here we go.”
The device activated.
Spells glowed, projecting an image before Ronan's eyes.
It was footage from his own perspective.
“Ah?”
Today's massacre replayed.
Each swing felled undead in sprays of blood and guts.
First-person view made it far more gruesome than watching afar.
“Erin... can't see...”
Slice, stab, tear, impale.
It ended with Ronan's severing of Kiersaji's limbs.
Lanse had sneaked a spell to see Dad's work closer.
Family dignity flashed in Ronan's mind.
Covering Erin's eyes, he muttered blankly.
“Whoops.”