Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Baidian Mountains (1)
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The Special Adventure Club's first journey began on the following Saturday.
They had to return by next Wednesday. Normally, they could only leave campus on weekends, but under the guise of "club activities," it was permitted even on weekdays.
Following Ronan's suggestion, they decided to ride phantom steeds. Even on swift warhorses, the trip took two days, but these could halve that time.
The rental took place near the capital's north gate. Behind the Pale Horse Guild's employee stood three eerie steeds, frozen like statues.
"Th-those are the horses...?"
"Damn it, that's one more nightmare to add to the list."
Ronan frowned at the sight of the phantom steeds. Their glossy eyes showed only whites. Their sleek, hairless bodies gleamed a sickly blue, like frozen corpses.
He could see why these were classified as monsters rather than fantasy beasts. After a brief exchange of greetings, the employee handed out goggles to the group.
"You must be the ones who reserved. Take these first."
"Goggles?"
Ronan tilted his head. They were high-quality, the kind griffon riders might use.
"Yes. Essential for riding phantom steeds. Without them, keeping your eyes open would be a struggle."
Of course, there was a reason imperial couriers used them. After hearing basic precautions, they received the steeds.
"We've cast a location-tracking spell, so just hold the reins. One more thing—never sit up while it's galloping."
"Thanks. Let's go, then."
Ronan mounted with practiced ease. He and Braum each took one, while the lighter Asel and Marya shared another. Marya asked Asel,
"Cutie, ever ridden before?"
"Y-yeah...! I'll handle the reins."
Asel replied with forced bravado. He was glad he'd learned riding from Ronan, even if it meant lashes from a riding crop.
An old mule and a phantom steed were as different as a button mushroom and a mandragora, but now wasn't the time to dwell. Marya hugged him from behind with a surprised laugh.
"Oho, not bad? Take good care of me!"
"...!"
Asel froze. The softness pressing against his back was overwhelming. Regaining composure, he nudged the steed's flanks with both heels as taught.
"H-hya!"
Boom! Asel's head snapped back. Acceleration was instantaneous, like an arrow loosed from a bow.
"Kwaaaack!"
"Asel!"
Asel's scream was swallowed by the wind the moment it left his mouth. Marya grabbed the reins with arms outstretched. Ronan, starting a beat later, cursed and gripped tight.
"Goddamn, there's a limit...!"
The goggles' importance became clear instantly. Whoosh! Winds unlike any he'd known battered his face like knives.
Nearby scenery blurred into afterimages. Distant views rushed backward. The steeds' gliding gait made it feel like they galloped through the sky.
"Pwaaa-!"
Sita flew alongside at matching speed. The four atop the phantom steeds became the wind, racing up the northern highway.
Raising his head, Ronan saw jagged peaks like spines in the distance—the Baidian Mountains, their destination.
****
"Ughhh! Bleeech!"
"Cutie, you okay?"
"Hahaha! You should've puked mid-ride like me!"
They arrived before half a day passed. As the steeds halted, the group dismounted in poses teetering on falling. The hairless horses turned and vanished back the way they'd come.
"Fucking hell... unbelievable."
Lifting his gaze revealed the majestic Baidian Mountains. Hard to believe they'd been in the capital hours ago. Sita, who had tied with the steeds, lay panting on the ground.
"Piii... piii..."
"Told you to take it slow, why push yourself."
Ronan tucked the exhausted Sita into his pack. Marya, patting Asel's back, spoke.
"How do we get back?"
"Blow this, and it'll find us. Wherever we are."
Ronan pulled a snow-white whistle from his pocket—the summon for the steeds. He led the group into the mountains.
"How far?"
"About a day. Camped before?"
"Wahaha! Exciting. Heard of leylines, but first time seeing one!"
Each carried a large pack. The goal: harvest as much leyline honey as possible, and find a curse eye along the way.
"Remember: grab any one-eyed octopus things you spot. They like shady spots under rocks or trees."
"Yeah. Curse-eating monsters, right?"
Ronan nodded. Days ago, he'd told them about his curse. Braum thumped his chest.
"Don't worry! I'll bring back a mountain of 'em!"
"Thanks, Braum. But monsters swarm here. Lower your voice if you don't wanna get bitten sleeping."
"Mm...! Got it...!"
Ronan led them deep into the range. The terrain was rugged, but a month's training let the trio climb without issue.
'Hope no one's claimed it.'
Baidian's leyline lay near ruined ruins once occupied by some mercenary band. They'd demanded tolls aggressively, so Ronan had crippled seven of ten before leaving.
They camped that night in an nameless valley. The campfire warded off the chill. Ronan chewed jerky, discussing tomorrow.
"Rest up. Long hike ahead."
"Mm... What monsters here...?"
"Varied. The worst, or second-worst. Which first?"
"S-second."
"Sure?"
Ronan spun and hurled Ramancha. It flew straight into nearby bushes. Thunk! A fleshy pierce and shriek echoed.
"Kieeeek!"
"Wh-what?!"
Ronan approached, hands in pockets. Ramancha impaled a green-skinned dwarf wriggling on its blade.
"Kyahiik... kaaak...!"
"Persistent as ever. Gotta move faster tomorrow."
Stab. Ronan ended it and tossed the corpse before them. Braum, recognizing it, frowned.
"Goblin...? Right?"
"Yeah. See this?"
Ronan pointed his blade at burn-like scars on its back—three or four round marks.
"Slaves from nearby orc villages. Second-worst monsters lurking in Baidian."
Recalling past lives, Ronan shook his head in disgust. He explained orc villages dotted the mountains.
Orcs, stronger and pack-hunting, terrified mid-tier adventurers.
"Biggest issue? Numbers—like floods from caves. You gotta see it."
"Th-that's second? What's worst...?"
"Ogre."
Faces paled. They hadn't expected that name here. Ronan continued calmly.
"Real bastard. Thick hide shrugs blades, strength immense..."
"F-fought one? Ogre?"
Ronan nodded. Not this life. When he'd found the leyline, around age eighteen. His duel with the beast lasted three days and nights unresolved.
"Not all bad, though. Mountains aren't orc-overrun 'cause ogres periodically wipe villages."
Even a hundred orcs couldn't take one ogre. One probably roamed nearby now.
Recalling the two-headed ogre he couldn't finish—blade still green then—Ronan grimaced.
"Anyway, run from ogres, not orcs. You can't handle 'em yet."
"Y-yeah. Got it."
"Oh, wyverns are up there too. Shadow overhead mid-hike..."
Night deepened with tales. They rotated three-hour watches. No more monsters after the goblin.
Next morning, atop a cliff surveying, Ronan said,
"Found it. Familiar from here."
Landmarks matched memory. He led, mana thickening in the air.
Hours later, the leyline appeared. Eyes widened.
"Whoaaa...!"
"Th-this leyline? How'd you find it, Ronan...?"
"Wahahaha! Incredible! Mana boiling over!"
Baidian's leyline nestled mid-mountain. Trees twisted grotesquely from mana excess.
Vaster than Penardo Spring. Even pebbles glowed with mana. Rising vapors were dozens times denser than ambient.
"Pwaaa!"
Recovered Sita soared high, absorbing mana.
As expected, unclaimed. Ronan doffed his pack.
"Every pebble's treasure—gather lots. Sense it too. Asel, explain?"
"Y-yeah!"
Ronan headed deeper for curse eyes. Ruins from before flickered in mind.
'Come to think...'
Shady spots—maybe under debris. Soon, the site appeared. Ronan's eyes bulged.
"Huh?"
Ruins should've been rubble. Instead, a sturdy stone building stood. Rubbing eyes confirmed.
Pointed roof, impressive pillars.
"Thought it'd crumbled ages ago...?"
Intact meant destruction within four years. Approaching, Ronan stroked a pillar dumbfounded.
Weathered, but no collapse signs. As he entered, a voice from behind:
"Remarkable. A visitor all the way here."
"What?"
Unfamiliar male voice. No presence until close. Ronan whirled, drawing Ramancha. The man dropped his basket in fright.
"Wh-why so sudden? Calm down...!"
He raised empty hands to prove harmless. Seeing his attire, Ronan raised a brow.
"Elf?"
"Yes? As you see."
"...What're you doing here?"
Ronan sheathed. The middle-aged elf sighed in relief, picking up the basket.
"I'm a priest of Seniel. You look young to brave this wilderness—must have your reasons."