Chapter 154
Chapter 154
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 154
Chapter Title: Tribal Loyalties and Capital Farewell
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Thud. Thud.
The footsteps were heavy.
A massive frame packed with muscle that went beyond sturdy, bulging eyes, and the horns of a water buffalo sprouting from both sides of his head—one of which had been broken once and now sheathed in metal. A beastkin.
Dyamid took a deep breath, and his upper body swelled as if his shirt might burst.
“Chief!”
The thunderous shout as he slammed open the door made Hula, the goatkin who had been rifling through papers, jolt her head up in surprise. Her white hair, braided in multiple strands and tied into one, cascaded down with a rustle.
“Dyamid. I told you not to call me chief here!”
Hula shot to her feet, her face lighting up with joy as she approached the tribe’s great warrior, Dyamid, and kicked his shin with her own hoof.
It was a rough motion that made a solid thwack, but Dyamid just laughed heartily—hahaha!—as if it were nothing.
“No, who else would I call our tribe’s chief but chief?”
“There’s a fine word like ‘caravan master.’”
As she prodded his ribs with her elbow, Hula watched Dyamid grab his head with one massive hand and turn it away, chuckling heartily.
“I’m not serving Caravan Master Hula. I swore loyalty to Chief Hula.”
Hula narrowed her horizontal pupils at Dyamid as he snorted through his nose, then burst into giggles before firmly shutting the door he’d flung open.
“You and your stubbornness. So, how did it go on that trip?”
Unlike the cheerful opening, her final words dropped low, and Dyamid crumpled his huge body down to sit as he stared at Hula.
“They were friendly—far more than I expected. Even for fellow top clans of Chavid, I figured there’d be some backlash when we suddenly shifted our routes to dealings with the outside.”
“But there wasn’t?”
Hula gathered the scattered papers—messy at a glance but with their own order—one by one.
“At least from the chiefs. Of course, the underlings’ eyes were plenty fierce. Haha.”
He went on to say he’d smashed his fist into the skulls of those muttering trash like traitor or human lapdog. Hula let out a low hum as she eyed him.
“Just the chiefs, huh? If the old me had heard we were teaming up with humans to form a caravan, I’d have been the first to rally the other top chiefs, brand us traitors, and lead the purge.”
*But you didn’t.*
Hula, who’d prepared countermeasures for that very scenario, showed a hint of puzzlement. Dyamid looked at her and spoke.
“But are you sure you’re doing the right thing as chief? A brute like me can’t make heads or tails of these paper scraps—might as well chew ’em up.”
Hula paused at his question, crossed her arms, leaned back loosely in her chair, and crossed her legs. Her hoof bobbed in the air.
“Dyamid. Who am I?”
“The young goatkin chief.”
“Chavid’s first beastkin-led caravan, negotiating boldly even with humans. This Hula had zero talent for commerce—no matter how hard I searched—but I’ve got the grit from the Kruger family’s hellish training that awakened my traits.”
Hula shuddered briefly, as if recalling the past, then opened her mouth.
“A beastkin with no pride, clinging to humans from behind—so even if they call you out for it and question how you can be a top clan chief, the Chavid tribes have no choice but to deal with me.”
Human caravans that jacked up prices and slapped on fees, using the excuse of hauling goods all the way to this barren desert—or worse, slavers disguised as such. That was the reality forcing Chavid to rely on Hula’s caravan.
“There’ll be even more hoping our caravan grows bigger, extending our reach across Chavid.”
*All thanks to Adelian.*
Without the gold he’d poured endlessly—like filling a broken box with water—the early pressure and sabotage from other human caravans would’ve crushed them long ago.
*To think that wild human was from such a mighty house.*
“So they’re putting up with it just for the profits?”
Dyamid slyly reached out, picking up a few cookies Hula seemed to have left half-eaten with his thick fingers and popping them into his mouth carefully.
“Doubt it. Like I said, I’d have branded you a traitor and led the charge. My guess is... the Prophet had a hand in it.”
They rarely met the Prophet outside the annual chiefs’ gathering, but when the Prophet called, it was different.
Only the Prophet could somewhat unite the chiefs who clashed over this barren land of Chavid for their own tribes.
“From calling Adelian and his crew the ‘Enders’ and saying there’s no need to oppose them, to this... yeah, I think we need to meet the Prophet.”
As Hula muttered, someone knocked on the door.
“Caravan Master. A package from the wagtail.”
Hula gestured quickly at the mention of wagtail—her name for Adelian—and tore into the small parcel Dyamid handed her, smaller than his palm.
“What is it?”
“Food?”
Out came a single white, squishy thing like a slime.
Hula squeezed the jiggly slime, a question mark practically floating over her head.
* * *
“Ahh, the capital was nice...”
As I started packing to get moving, everyone sprang into action.
Rachel was the first to grumble, dumping two boxes of miscellaneous junk she’d shopped for bit by bit in the capital in front of me.
Stuff I’d use often went into the small sub-space ring.
Rarely used stuff into the Kruger ring’s space.
“You still had fun, though.”
I grinned. Honestly—we’d hit the arena, entered the imperial palace, and I’d even helped Pian sometimes instead of Cain, savoring some action.
Rachel opened her mouth half-heartedly at my words.
“Funny. Want me to show you what real fun is?”
She’d just teach me drinking and punching.
I waved her off like she was talking nonsense, and her lips puffed out like a duck’s beak.
“No, but is there that much to do?”
“Things to do? Plenty if there’s plenty, none if there’s none.”
I said it casually, and Rachel groaned with a weird face before heading to Luna.
I sipped some lukewarm tea, watching as I’d already finished sorting my luggage early.
Truth was, yeah. Even if I did nothing, Cain was strong. He’d honed his talents with relentless effort and ultimately saved the world.
In the big picture, whether I rolled forward, backward, or sideways, the ending was set.
Cain killing whoever the Evil God Cult’s god—seen as the Demon King in the original author Leaf’s eyes—pointed to.
So yeah, nothing to do. No need to lift a finger.
*But there’s so much to do.*
Our healer! Hey, how lonely must she be out there in the Southern Isles!
The communication-impossible party of misfits from the original: the seven hopeless siblings.
Cain the human-hating swordsman and Luna the berserker archer with social phobia.
Violence-addicted brawler Rachel who preferred fists over words, and tank golem Leaf who only heard Cain’s voice.
Misandrist archer Gadia, human-hating mermaid healer, and other-despising demon debuffer.
*Every single one is a masterpiece. Total legend.*
I rubbed my temples against the slight headache and slowly closed and opened my eyes.
Still, honestly—even if it rolled to the same destined point without me doing a thing.
“Luna. What’s this? What’s with the tacky clothes!”
“What’re you on about? They’re cute?”
―Isn’t this a decent design for you, Luna senior?
“Leaf? Isn’t this fine?”
“Cain senior. It’s our last day in the capital today—want to go grab those tarts from that shop that only sells them there?”
“I think heading the opposite way would be better for me. We need meat pies too. I’ll get those, so you go ahead.”
Chased, broken, shattered, unable to trust anyone but each other in a world with no justice or anything—just eventually habitual opposition to the cult.
Better now than then, and the future better than now.
*That’s why I’m here.*
“That’s why I rented out a whole restaurant.”
As they oohed and aahed over what tasted good, I chimed in, and Luna looked at me.
“Why bother. I like eating casually together like this.”
Maybe because she was packing, her droopy ears were tied back like a headband with a slight smile.
Leaf and Rachel beside her too.
The three smiling made Zero smile along. Only Cain stared at me blankly before speaking.
“Anything else needed?”
“Naughty sweet lovely chu cherry soda from the bakery. Order it right, bring it back. Expecting shake-free delivery, no fizz lost.”
I said it playfully, but Cain ignored it and headed out with Zero to shop.
*I bet on him bringing it anyway.*
If I lost, I’d demand it back from Cain fair and square.
“You’re something else. Making Cain do that.”
Rachel snickered as she approached, perching on the sofa armrest and leaning on the back to whisper.
“Best.”
I just stuck up a thumb wordlessly.
Phew. Gotta push Cain periodically.
“Then Zero and I will prep dinner.”
“Yeah? Then me too—ack.”
As Luna and Leaf bustled about, I started to rise to help, but Rachel quickly pressed my shoulder down.
“Nah, where you going. I think I can skip even one meal in a millennium touched by your hands.”
Ever since I brewed that tea she tried once, no helping with meals.
Don’t you trust my cooking too little?
“That’s too much.”
“Your hands are what’s too much. Flavor? Hey, there’s no flavor. And no flavor isn’t the opposite of tasty. It’s just... barely a concept?”
“Ease up.”
I raised both hands like I wasn’t getting up and leaned back further into the sofa. Only then did Rachel release my shoulder, chuckling before speaking.
“But I’ve got one thing I’m curious about.”
“Oh? You?”
I asked like I genuinely wondered what, and Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“Why so offended? Anyway. That statue you gave the princess.”
Ah, the continent’s monkey’s paw. Original name was the Blind Saint Statue, right?
*Though now someone’s pushed it to the brink, so it’s half-open-eyed.*
“What about it.”
Rachel fixed her red eyes on me at my nonchalant reply.
“Why give her something that dangerous? On purpose? I told you it’s an incredible artifact but also super risky and lethal.”
I lifted the corner of my mouth as I watched her rarely serious expression.
“Why? What do you think Seria’ll do with it?”
“Anything!”
Maybe floating made my face seem unserious; Rachel furrowed her brow slightly.
“From what you told me, it’s amazing but not omnipotent.”
“But it could kill someone overnight. You, or even that Shahad you put effort into—what then?”
I tilted my head loosely and rubbed my chin.
“Sure, it’s capable of that with its power. But... would she?”
Rachel raised one eyebrow at my words.
“It’s powerful but has clear limits. Like, wish to become continent’s ruler? It’d twist it weirdly, obviously.”
Like the monkey’s paw classic. Drive Seria mad and make her queen in delusions.
“But yeah, a straight-up ‘kill so-and-so now’ wish would probably work if Princess Seria made it. But... would she?”
Wishes are like that. You wish for what you need most.
Ask a modern person for a wish: clean laundry, source-clear one trillion won or whatever. That’s why.
It might not be pure wealth, but most wishes money solves, so flexible cash it is.
*And Seria’s wish? Obvious.*
I burst out laughing, grabbing Rachel’s hand as she reached for my collar demanding I spill straight.