Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Cockatrice Hunt
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Before starting the serious tracking, we ducked into a suitably empty building for a meal.
Over food, we discussed specifics and reached an agreement. Nothing major. William and Winia would use their tracking skills to find the cockatrice nest and kill it. That was it. The two C-rank adventurers weren't worried at all about facing a cockatrice.
It felt like they were just heading out for a stroll and some light exercise.
Something neither Kobson nor I could even imagine.
"Here, blackie! Carry this!"
Winia shoved a huge backpack at me. A really huge one. We'd known from the start that Kobson and I were basically porters here. Cockatrices dropped a ton of useful materials, and that's why they'd hired us—to haul them.
"Make sure you grab everything important. If you miss something, you're digging through shit for it!"
"Got it..."
I slung the backpack on. Cockatrices dropped a crapload of junk items, but nothing was waste. Feathers for arrow fletching, bones, beaks, and claws for gear materials. Even the crest and heart went for magic ingredients. And the meat? No way we'd toss that.
Thinking about hauling all that already had my legs shaking...
It'd outweigh a full soldier's kit, easy.
Anyway, I hoisted the big pack while Kobson took the small one, and we set off. William led, tracking footprints. Kobson followed, scanning left and right. Winia and I brought up the rear, watching our backs.
"Blackie, water."
"On my belt."
"Blackie, water."
"..."
I silently pulled the canteen, unscrewed the cap, and handed it over.
This made no fucking sense. Worry was already creeping in. Would she stiff me on the pay? This quest was guild-commissioned, so no real risk, but this bitch would screw me over any way she could.
Winia, that fucking cunt, still had room to spare after that.
The forest stretched endlessly. About an hour in, William pushed forward without hesitation—a true pro. I didn't know tracking, but his was flawless. We were closing in on the cockatrice.
"Hmm... smooth sailing. Typical wild monster. No concept of covering tracks. Stupid head on it—lost a territory fight and fled near the village."
"Really? Man, just following you feels like a lesson."
"At this rate, we'll find it soon."
See? Even their chat screamed smooth quest. Seeing Kobson pick up tracking tips over William's shoulder made my stomach ache. Opportunities like that were rare.
No internet, no TV. To learn skills, you paid someone who knew. But partying with a high-level adventurer let you eyeball their know-how for free.
"Blackie, hear that? Looks like it'll wrap early."
"Oh yeah."
Fucking great news. I wanted away from this woman ASAP.
"Blackie, got time after this?"
"Time? Why?"
"Long time no see. We should hang out, just us."
No such rule existed.
Was it in the civil code? Criminal code?
Or UN international law?
Fuck any law like that...!
I freaked, teeth chattering as I scrambled for excuses. Hang out alone? Better to solo a dungeon—two hundred times safer for wallet and health.
"Uh, y'see. Nah. Can't."
"Why?"
Winia's face turned feral in a flash. She hooked her staff around my neck and yanked. Her face closed in. Mage perfume wafted, but choking coughs drowned it out.
"Why not?"
"Gack—well. I got, uh, plans."
"Pfft, bullshit."
She grabbed my ear and yanked like tearing it off. No limit to her strength. Big tits, bigger savage.
I desperately brainstormed. Brain spun. This'd leave me half-eared. Cool nickname, "Lopsided," but fuck sacrificing an ear for it. Hurts like hell.
Racked my head. Guild chatter gave scraps of info. Picked a good one.
"Plans? Anyway, gotta hit the church."
"Church? Blackie got religion?"
Guild talk: Brass Celestial Society holding a sermon. They did 'em often—thought, These fuckers again?
"Nah, Brass Celestial Society's doing a public sermon. No cap, gotta go."
"Why you?"
Why? To ditch your ass, bitch! Winia still tugged my ear, suspicious. Get it already!
Ear! Ear! My ear's ripping!
"Gonna be a holy knight or priest? From Brass Celestial?"
"Obviously. Dream's holy knight."
Childhood dream: holy knight.
Holy knights tanked, healed solo. Hybrids sucked at each—tanks lost to knights, DPS to warriors, heals to priests. But solo-jack-of-all mattered.
Bullshit.
No priest dreams. Strict rules? Hard pass. Holy knight = army lite.
My military stint: two years, overkill.
"Lying to me, blackie? Or hate hanging? Either way, you're dead."
"..."
She saw through it, killing intent rising. I panicked, flailing to confess.
"J-joking. Sermon's free holy water."
"For real?"
"Body's fucked lately. Need holy water recovery. Free? Gotta snag it. Broke as hell."
"...Yeah?"
Tried lowest-grade holy water once. Jack shit effect.
But true: sit through five-hour preacher rant, get a bottle at end. Not worth standing that long, though.
I pleaded desperately.
"Pfft—haha!"
Winia burst laughing at my plea. Bad vibes.
"W-why laugh? Say something funny?"
"Nah, blackie. Then..."
"Then."
"We'll go together!"
"Holy shit! Never thought of that! Scared me!"
"Right? Right?"
"Totally!"
Fuck. Knew it. No way she'd respect "plans" and back off. Screwed. Royally fucked. One slip-up, crossed the Rubicon. What the hell is my life?
Thus, for a worthless lie, I dragged crazy Winia to some shitty Brass Celestial sermon.
Where's my day off?
"Halt."
Sweating buckets, William spoke. Daydreams vanished; muscles tensed. Enemy? I shrugged off my empty pack, drew my sword.
Psssh.
Pfft.
Blocking us: [spirits]. Glowing green, human-head-sized. Moss Wisps, forest spirits for sure!
Two murder machines buzzed like beetles, circling us! Fuck! Targeted! Dangerous!
"Spirits, huh."
"S-spirits! Barbarian! Spirits!"
"I see 'em, fuck!"
I leaped in front of Winia, stance set. Kobson screamed a kiai, axe out, jumping beside me. Plan: William frontline, guard the mage.
Sudden enemy standoff—tension maxed.
"...Why the freakout?"
Winia muttered at us.
"Sir William! Battle ready!"
"...Hm? Oh, right."
Unlike us sensing death, they were chill. What? C-ranks maybe laughed at spirits? For real?
Those killers?
"Yeah, spirits are tough for you lot."
Moss Wisps: rare monsters. Disaster for lowbies like us.
Boss monsters—run panties-down on sight.
"Wisps steal human souls! Sir William!"
"Indeed!"
I didn't know details, but forest wisps snatched foolish humans' souls. Looked like dung patties but high-skill murderers. Irredeemable pests.
Second time seeing 'em.
First: F-rank days. Barely escaped; nameless teammate souled out, dead.
"What? Pfft—hahaha! Fair point. Don't worry—no soul powers."
Slash.
William cleaved one wisp in half casually. It vanished, dropping goo. The other fled flying.
"Gasp...!"
Like a bat to the head...
One-shot a wisp?!
C-rank adventurers fucking strong!!! First time seeing real power—didn't expect that.
"Huh? What?"
Shocked Kobson drooled, eyes wonky, asking William.
"Just basic hypnosis. Soul-stealing? That's what adventurers think now?"
"Hypnosis? But I saw a teammate die."
I said. Seen wisps kill—clear as day. Killing an adult male ain't easy, let alone that way, instant.
"Hypnotized, wandered deep forest. Dead either way."
William's unbelievable wisp explanation:
"No magic resistance? Easy mark."
"So wisps are total shit?"
"Any resistance works. See this."
William picked a fingernail-sized green stone from the kill.
"Wisp core. Magic material. Rare, so pricey."
I eyed dumbfounded Kobson. He couldn't believe it either. Wisps: soul-eating ghosts to us.
"Soul-eating reminded me—you mixing wisps and Soul Eaters? Those eat souls."
"Soul Eaters?"
"Tough ones. Seen a teammate die? Maybe that. Similar look."
Anyway, mind-blowing lesson for us. Swallowed hard, sheathed sword. Forehead slick with cold sweat. Heart pounding out my chest.
"Whew... Thought we were goners."
Wisps scarier than cockatrice bosses. Misunderstanding, though.
"Blackie thought Soul Eaters were wisps?"
"...Guess so."
"Heh heh heh, blackie so fucking funny. Ah! Scared shitless of wisps!"
Fuck.