Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: The Great Moving Operation (2)
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Something had clearly happened. The man who appeared to be in charge pointed beyond the blocked road.
"Sword Saint Zaifa and his direct unit are carrying out an operation nearby. Wait until it's over or take another route."
"Zaifa? You mean the Zaifa I know?"
It was a name he'd heard plenty of times over his two lifetimes. The swordsman who had defeated Naviroje and claimed the title of Empire's Greatest Swordsman. Ronan tilted his head at the news that someone he'd never even seen in his previous life had been deployed.
'Is this really something that calls for Zaifa?'
Even with wyverns showing up, it didn't seem like a stage for such a heavyweight to step onto personally. Ronan shrugged and asked,
"What exactly is Sword Saint Zaifa doing to block the road like this?"
"I can't disclose details. Cooperate for the citizens' safety."
"Come on, just give me a little hint."
"I can't do that."
The man's face was visibly tense. The other soldiers were standing at high alert, disciplined to a fault. After a moment's thought, Ronan smacked his lips and changed the subject.
"Alright, no choice then. Good luck out here."
"Thank you for cooperating. Monsters might appear, so stick to the main roads if possible."
Tormenting soldiers wasn't his style. Asel, riding in the back, asked worriedly,
"W-what do we do now?"
"Turn back or take a side path. Air searches can be done from anywhere anyway."
It was a hassle, but there were no better options. As he scanned for a suitable spot to detour, a booming shout erupted from the crowd.
"You tax-sucking leeches! How long are we supposed to wait?!"
"Keep your voice down; it might lure monsters."
"Lower it my ass! My goods are rotting while you fools dick around!!"
It was so loud he first thought a monster had appeared. Ronan turned. A pudgy man was jabbing his finger right in the soldiers' faces.
He looked like a merchant from his attire. Behind him stood a shabby cart pulled by two mangy horses.
Flies swarming everywhere suggested he was hauling something foul-smelling. Ronan let out a hollow chuckle.
'He's practically singing for someone to kill him.'
Not content with being loud, he was stinking up the place too. It was almost too perfect to pass as bait sent by Nebula Klazie to lure monsters.
Ignoring the soldiers' warnings, the man squealed like a pig. Ronan was debating whether to give him a piece of his mind when a bolt of inspiration struck.
"Oh ho."
It was ridiculous, but feasible. Even if it didn't find Nebula Klazie, it would secure the area around them. Ronan pulled the reins and turned to Asel.
"Asel, you can lift a cart without issue now, right?"
"H-huh? What're you talking about?"
Ronan leaped off his horse. The merchant was still venting his rage, spewing all sorts of insults.
"You goddamn thugs! It's hard to believe scum like you even have parents! You devil spawn!"
The soldiers' faces were twisting in anger. Ronan approached the unattended cart.
A fishy stench hit him like a wave, making his stomach churn. Pickled fish, most likely. The horses were snorting furiously at the smell too.
Seizing the moment when no one was looking, he slashed the cart in key spots—including the harness linking it to the horses. Slash! As the connection snapped, the horses' eyes widened.
"Neigh!!"
"Wh-what?!"
The now-free horses bolted like they'd been waiting for it. The merchant waddled after them in vain. They veered off the road and vanished into the nearby woods.
"H-hey, my horses are running! What are you waiting for—chase them!"
"We have to hold our position."
"You bastards! Come back!!"
No matter how desperately he screamed, the horses didn't return. Then the cart collapsed with a crash. The merchant shrieked and rushed over. Joints and wheels that had been fine yesterday were all shattered. The contents spilled out, intensifying the stench.
"Why... why me...! Ohhh...!"
He couldn't fathom the cause. The despairing merchant slumped to the ground. His livelihood, the cart, was now little more than a pile of reeking wood. Suddenly, Ronan poked his shoulder from behind.
"Hey, mister."
"Sniff... ugh... what?"
Tears like chicken droppings streamed from the merchant's narrow, slitted eyes. Ronan flashed a friendly smile.
"Mind if I take this useless pile of trash off your hands?"
"Wh-what...? Trash?"
"Don't even think of selling it. If you leave it here, it'll kill everyone around."
The merchant was speechless for a moment. Ronan briefly explained what could happen if the pile was left. Just mentioning that wyverns loved rotten fish was enough to drive the point home.
"Listen up, Asel. The smell needs to spread far."
"O-okay... ugh."
Off the main road, the two crossed a sparse woodland. The former cart hovered lightly in the air, following the boys.
It held fifteen barrels packed with pickled herring. Ronan had pried them all open and sliced off the cart's roof.
Now, every jostle sent a murderous fishy reek billowing on the wind. Asel, scanning around like a meerkat, screamed.
"Eek! Up ahead!"
"Kieeeek!"
Ronan looked forward. A dozen goblins armed with branches and farm tools charged bravely. He sighed and dismounted.
"Damn, now even regular goblins are coming at us."
Not even special ones like Luna Goblins—just plain goblins. Ronan drew his sword hilt. Slash! As his body spun wide, ten heads flew into the air.
"A-are we really okay...?!"
"Don't wimp out. We haven't even killed that many yet."
Ronan was drenched in blood from head to toe. The result of slicing through three-digit numbers of monsters over nearly half a day. With the pickled fish, they were a beacon luring monsters.
Ronan picked up a goblin head rolling at his feet. Sure enough, a familiar mark glowed spinach-green on its forehead—like those on the cave giants and ogres. Nebula Klazie's brand.
"These guys got hit too. Fucking bastards."
Ronan's hunch was spot on. Nebula Klazie had gathered and enraged the monsters. He didn't know why they were pulling this crap again, but he had no intention of letting them succeed, whatever their goal.
'Keep killing, and something'll turn up.'
Ronan knew killing or neutralizing the caster would break the spell—as with Brigia and Syrilla. But he had no way to find the caster now.
So he was slaughtering every monster the smell drew in. Reducing their numbers absolutely made Iril's move safer—no loss there. He looked up at Asel on horseback.
"Time to lift it once, Asel. I'll check..."
Then his face hardened. Asel tilted his head.
"Ronan?"
Ronan didn't answer. His gaze was fixed above Asel—on shapes flapping against the sun. Too massive for birds. One was closing in fast. Without looking away, Ronan continued.
"...Asel. Move the cart over my head."
"Huh...?"
"Hold it steady. Got it? Wyverns have an opening the instant they snatch prey."
Asel paled as he understood. Soon, a shadow fell over the boys. Ronan's hand went to his sword hilt. He smirked faintly.
"Finally, a big fish on the line."
Now he could make out the shape. A ochre wyvern folded its wings and dove. Asel whimpered at the ferocious wind.
"Sob... ugh...!"
Head to tail, it was at least 5 meters. Asel fought the urge to faint and shifted the cart. As it blocked Ronan's view, the wyvern roared.
"Kyaaaaak!"
"Gahhh!"
Asel screamed. Impressively, his psychokinesis held. As the wyvern's talons gripped the cart, Ronan swung. Sword energy burst from the wreckage, striking the wyvern's neck. Slash! The crescent blade half-severed it.
"Kreeeek!"
"Nice."
Short range, but devastating power. Blood fountained. The wyvern crashed, kicking up dirt. Then another roar echoed from the sky. The other two dove at Ronan together. He braced immediately—no more surprises.
"Kyaaaa!"
"Huh?"
Ronan's eyes widened as he watched. A person rode one—a woman in a pure white robe, desperately trying to rein in the wyvern.
"Wh-what's wrong all of a sudden?! Snap out of it!"
"Kiaaaak!"
The fish-maddened wyvern was acting on impulse. Despite her efforts, it held course.
But that wasn't the point now. A familiar glow emanated from her shoulder. Ronan gritted his teeth.
"Nebula Klazie...!"
Undoubtedly one of the masterminds behind this frenzy. Then the riderless wyvern reached Ronan. Its toothy maw gaped as it plummeted vertically—the stuff of adventurers' nightmares.
"Krahhhak!"
"Out of the way."
Not his problem. He leaped off the fallen wyvern's corpse, swinging to intercept. Dozens of red lines slashed its crocodile-like face. Splat! The stake-driven head exploded, spraying blood, teeth, and brains everywhere.
"What?!"
The woman finally noticed Ronan and turned. Without hesitation, he swung skyward. Whoosh! The flying sword energy hit the wyvern's wing. It shrieked, regaining its senses.
"Kiyaaaak!"
"Shit."
Ronan twisted his lips. The energy only tore the wing membrane—distance had weakened it. The pale woman screamed,
"G-get back!"
The wyvern veered sharply and climbed. Ronan gripped his hilt to fire again, but watching Asel reached out.
"I-Invisible Hand!"
"Krak?!"
An unseen hand seized them. The wyvern froze mid-air, off-balance. Ronan clenched his fist and yelled,
"Great, Asel! Slam 'em into the ground!"
"O-okay!"
Asel swung his clenched fist down. The thrashing wyvern plummeted. Then the robed woman chanted something. The weight suddenly surged, yanking Asel skyward.
"Gahhhh!"
"You idiot, drop it!"
Asel released his psychokinesis. Ronan dove, catching the falling boy. The woman's wyvern fled rapidly. They'd lose it at this rate. Gripping Asel's shoulders, Ronan shouted,
"Asel, launch me!"
"Wh-what?"
"Hurl me at those bastards! You can catch me later!"
Asel's eyes shook, but he didn't question it. Silently, an invisible hand grabbed Ronan and flung him at the wyvern. Terrific wind pressure engulfed him.
"Ngh...!"
It recalled his aerial clash with Ahayute. Wind roared past his ears. The gap closed in seconds. Barely aligning trajectories, Ronan calmly seized the tail. The woman's eyes bulged as she turned.
"Kyaa! H-how?!"
Ronan didn't reply. Instead, he jammed Ramancha into the thick base. Keeek! The wyvern writhed in agony. Dragging the hilt, Ronan vaulted onto its back.
"You bitch. Don't you know what day this is?"
"Wh-who are you...? Why are you...!"
The demonic figure made her stagger back. As Ronan lunged, a massive shadow loomed overhead. He looked up. A colossal wyvern—dwarfing all the others—dived talons-first.
"Damn."
Naturally, Nebula Klazie's mark adorned its chest. Clearly the plan's ultimate weapon.
The talons were less than 2 meters from their faces. As Ronan judged and swung, a whistle pierced the air. Suddenly, a huge shadow materialized before them. Ronan's eyes widened.
"Beastkin...?"
It was a pitch-black were-tiger, bulkier than any he'd seen. Its bulging right arm wielded a 5-meter glaive.
'Where'd it come from?'
A chill raced down his spine. No mana from the beastkin—pure leg strength had propelled that leap. Despair leaked from the woman's lips.
"Z-Zaifa...!"
"What?"
In that instant, the giant wyvern split in half. Exploding blood painted the sky. Simultaneously, Ronan's ride shattered into three pieces and collapsed. The were-tiger whirled, coiling its tail around both Ronan and the woman's necks, and began descending.