Chapter 388
Chapter 388
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 388
Chapter Title: Colors from the Cosmos
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"Heh heh heh."
"Kukuku."
"Huhu hu."
Laughter didn't stop the entire way back.
We'd killed a few people, sure, but that was just necessary business—and it netted us a huge haul of loot. Even those heretics we ran into at the end handed us pure bliss on a silver platter.
No wonder my grin stretched from ear to ear.
Best of all, we'd gotten a solid rest in that empty village, so body and mind were both light as a feather. It felt like we'd just set off on a brand-new adventure.
—Gweek. Gweek.
Quites was chuckling happily too.
The little bastard had nearly gotten us in trouble with its crying fit earlier, but no big deal. A clash with those heretic human traffickers was inevitable anyway.
Letting scum like that walk would only invite future headaches. They tried playing dumb and waving us off, but who knows if that wasn't a trick?
Nah, it was 100% a trick.
H eretics can't go a single day without deceiving people and causing pain—it's how they're wired. Heavenly Demon's name demands we put 'em down.
"Heh heh heh. No wonder everything's been going our way lately. We're practically beautifying the world at this point."
Lately, I'd been racking up good deeds left and right.
Truth be told, old me—Kim Katt—wasn't exactly a saint.
Back then, just surviving on my own took everything I had.
But now that I'd found some inner peace, I was all about helping others and doing good for the world. It kept my mind and body in perfect harmony. Pure joy. The bloody grind of my old life was being purified by the thrill of service.
And with my pockets getting fatter too, why wouldn't I keep this up?
Makes me think holy knights must feel the same way when they devote themselves to faith. What used to seem baffling now felt... natural.
Come to think of it, I'm basically Hwanwoong's proxy, Buddha's champion, and the true heir of King David. Not so different from a holy knight.
"Huhu hu, spot on. Spreading good everywhere we go—just like those rumors said, Katt really is a saint."
"Kuhuhu! Saint, huh? Rolls off the tongue nice!"
"Kuku. Our little blackie's eating it up."
"Damn right he is!"
—Cling!
One look at that sack bulging with coins, and any gloom would vanish in a flash. Maybe that meteor was a gift from the heavens, meant to bring happiness to our little family.
Anyway, with lighter hearts, we pressed on across the misty plains.
Direction? Eh, not totally sure. But straight ahead should hit the edge eventually. From there, we could find the road. No sweat.
"Claudy. Winia. What should we do with our earnings when we get back?"
"Hm... Nothing specific? Whatever Katt wants to do, as much as he wants—that's my wish."
Such a sweetheart!
"I'd love to take it easy practicing some new spells."
"Classic mage."
Chatting about stuff like that made the walk pretty fun.
But the fog? Relentless.
—Thud thud thud thud!
—Thud thud thud thud thud!
"These goddamn pests."
And from the fog's depths, monsters kept charging in, drawn by the scent of blood. Mostly lesser drakes—small fry.
—Quelelelek!!!
These pint-sized drakes were shorter than Winia, not super tough, but they swarmed in huge numbers and were hyper-aggressive. Real pains in the ass.
Heard they wipe out lightly armed travelers who stumble into a big pack. But not my problem.
"Director Swordsmanship Strike!!!"
—Queeek!!!
I swung wide, cleaving the leaping bastard mid-air. Splurch! Blood and guts sprayed as the lesser drake split in two and slammed into the dirt.
This black iron greatsword from Karin? Solid piece of work.
Crude and heavy, yeah—but that's why my mana-boosted strength transfers clean, cleaving bone like butter.
What chance do these runts have?
We butchered the lesser drake swarm like it was post-meal exercise.
"Whew, blackie. Got ourselves dinner—let's eat here."
"Sweet!"
They're decent eating for monsters. Skinned 'em quick, filleted the meat, skewered it on sticks, and roasted over a fire.
Tough and chewy, but tasty enough.
Next long trip, definitely packing spices.
Hunting on the fly like this slashed our rations use big time. Edible monsters? Bonus.
Another day hustling to escape the misty plains. Pitched camp as dusk fell. Already missing blood-soaked inns.
"Whoa. Winia, Claudy—check the sky."
"Oh."
"Hm."
—Flash!
A shooting star streaked down, bright as hell.
They all glittered in rainbow hues, plummeting the same direction. Guess we're on track.
Just follow that path.
"Straight shot then. Winia, how much farther you think?"
"Once we clear the plains, just over one small range. Word is, most meteors hit around there."
"Gotcha."
Meteor iron... rare metals... Can we score some? Pondering that, we wrapped up the day.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ We escaped the misty plains late morning, a day later.
"Fuck yeah, finally out."
The thick fog thinned out at some point, then poof—gone.
Sunlight felt like an old friend. Humans need this stuff. No wonder teachers back in school were obsessed with opening curtains like paranoiacs.
Anyway, what a hellhole. No bullshit.
Criminals, heretics, monsters, freezing nights—all mixed in a nightmare realm.
If I come back here in this life, I ain't human.
"Mmm, so warm."
"Took forever."
Claudy and Winia ditched their hooded cloaks and stretched. Stepping out of that chilly plain hit us with instant warmth.
Basically summer now, right?
Short break to check the map. Me and Claudy leaned over Winia's shoulders as she spread it out, listening.
"Okay, here's the plain's edge... See this range? Over that, and we're there. Push hard, we might beat sunset."
Time to hustle.
This Philoran Range stretched straight and long, but the peaks were low and gradual. Looked easy.
Not even noon—plenty of time.
Pick up the pace a bit.
"Let's move. Any villages nearby?"
"Map doesn't say. But there has to be. Worst case, tent city. Let's roll."
Quick rations, then up the mountain.
Low hills—nothing special.
Just past the summit on the way down...
"Katt, what's that?"
"Looks like people."
A crowd down below caught my eye.
All meteor hunters?
Too iffy for an ambush, so we headed down.
Closer we got, clearer they became.
Light clothes, sticks poking everywhere. Tons of 'em.
No armor, casual outfits. Not pros from some outfit.
Probably laborers hunting meteors in a group.
—Glance.
They eyed us quick, then back to work.
Poking dirt with sticks, hacking grass with sickles or machetes. Hired hands, looks like.
"Meteor hunters, right?"
"Did one hit here too?"
Claudy scanned around.
"Maybe. Spread wide enough. Blackie, grab anyone and ask about villages."
"On it."
Good to see people. Normal village tonight—bed and safe food.
Was about to hail a random one when...
"Who might you be?"
A neatly dressed middle-aged guy approached, face twisted in hostility, tone dripping annoyance.
On guard?
"Just travelers."
No weapons drawn, no killing intent—so I flashed a big smile. He glared and jabbed a finger, snapping sharp.
"Don't lie! You're meteor hunters!"
Son of a bitch.
Smiling makes me look soft, huh.
"Nah, gramps. First meet, and you're coming in hot? Yeah, hunting meteors—but what's the problem?"
I twisted my face ugly right back.
"Don't care about that. This is our turf. No hunting here. Get lost!"
Thought I misheard.
'Our turf'? Claiming dibs? People are the same everywhere—even this crap.
"What? Get lost? Watch your mouth. Who died and made you king?"
Wasn't planning to hunt here anyway, but piss me off, and suddenly I want to.
"And why's this your turf?"
Don't know his status yet—no jumping to violence.
"We got here first—our claim. Now scram."
Middle-ager said it like obvious fact, face straight.
"You own the land? Doubt it. Bandits?"
"B-bandits? You're the ones trying to rob us!"
"Rob a saint, you fuck? Who the hell are you? Got authority to claim this dirt?"
"..."
He shut up, glanced around. Nearby workers gathered.
Hired by this guy? Loaded?
"Not getting through."
"Seriously, gramps—who are you? Noble? Local lord's rep?"
"Not exactly, but there's laws. Me? Merchant from Villadent Trading Company."
Showed off a ring with some seal, all high-and-mighty.
Dunno what it means.
Not noble, merchant then.
Merchants ditching trade for this? Meteors that hot? Anyway, can't smack a merchant.
Law protects 'em, plus their company—dispute means hassle. Witnesses everywhere. Better just ask for village directions.
"Sigh, fuck. Can't talk to idiots. Anyway, gramps—nearest village? Point the way, I'm gone."
"...Hey, tell these folks the road to the nearest village."
His tone softened at that. Yelled to a worker, then turned and left.
Worker approached.
"Nearest village straight that way. Belton."
"...Got it. That guy a merchant for real?"
"Yup. Hired us for meteor hunting."
"Roger."
We headed that way.
"What was that old fart's deal?"
Winia glanced back.
"Who cares. Not worth it."
On down the path. But we kept bumping into similar meteor-hunting groups.
Every encounter: wary approaches, arguments—wasted tons of time.
...Looks like all sorts of factions swarmed for the meteors.
This whole area's gotta be a clusterfuck, right?