Chapter 54
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Black Mage's Request
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I got up early and arrived at the east gate a bit ahead of our agreed meeting time. While waiting for the party, I pulled out the map I'd bought the day before and studied it.
Looking at the map while scouting the route myself was the only way to really memorize the path.
Memorizing the local geography is essential knowledge for any adventurer. I needed to commit as much of it to memory as possible.
"You're early."
"Ah, Gibson. Good morning."
As the dawn gave way to morning sunlight bathing the world, Gibson showed up. We exchanged greetings and briefly discussed the day's plans. He'd hunted Scale Wolves before, so there shouldn't be any major issues.
"Hey, am I the last one?"
Claudy arrived next. She said that right off the bat, but Morris was still missing—too bad for her.
"Hmm, guess we wait a bit longer."
She came right up beside me, crossed her arms silently, and stood there. Then she muttered something under her breath and bowed her head. I shot her an uneasy glance, half-worried she might be unwell or something, but nope—it was just meditation.
She was a bit of an odd one, what with her skin and hair color.
Brown skin and pale purple hair were just as rare as my own black hair.
"Morris is late."
"Shit, where is that guy?"
We waited like that for Morris—right up until I was seriously thinking, this fucking pig bastard, when's he gonna show? To put it bluntly, the guy was way late.
Even though we'd agreed to meet in the early morning just after dawn, he didn't appear until it was time most folks would've finished breakfast.
"Ah, sorry about that. I'm a bit late."
"Yeah, you think? Sun must be rising later these days or something."
"At my age, getting up in the morning is no joke. Anyway, let's get going."
He didn't seem to think much of his tardiness at all, which pissed me off a little. Hell, he didn't even catch my sarcasm.
This feels a bit off.
With my team luck on a hot streak lately, I'd almost forgotten—my team luck has always been shit.
Even in games, I'd queue up and lose seven out of ten matches to intentional throws or trolls from teammates. "Dodge-worthy?" "Nah, you go ahead~ This is my alt anyway (lies)." I'd eaten so many losses from that kind of posturing.
"It's about a two-hour walk to the Eastern Swamp."
To make up for the delay, we marched at a brisk pace. Right after passing through the gate, Gibson—who seemed most familiar with the roads—took point. Morris and Claudy were in the middle, and I brought up the rear.
As we walked, I took in the terrain and landmarks. I checked the map now and then, determined to memorize this route completely. Building up new knowledge was crucial for surviving in this world.
We crossed the main road and entered the forested area. According to the map, we'd hit the [Eastern Swamp] if we pushed deeper in from here. It screamed monster hotspot. Places outside the city with specific names like that usually meant heavy monster activity.
"Ahem, you. Claudy, was it? You've got some fine looks on you. Where you from?"
Morris, walking beside Claudy, apparently got ideas and tossed her a pickup line. Jeez, old man's got stamina.
"Adventuring life must be tough, huh?"
I wished he'd focus on the job during work hours. It was ridiculous to expect pro consciousness from adventurers, but you at least shouldn't deliberately piss off your teammates. Especially in mixed parties. Guys who couldn't read the room and kept flirting popped up all the time.
"For a delicate woman like you... How long you been at it?"
I thought they were having a conversation, but nope—turns out Morris was just monologuing. Hell, even if I were a woman, I wouldn't enjoy pickups from a guy like that. Her silence made sense.
"Hey, when someone's talking to you, at least pretend to—"
Maybe offended by her ignoring him, Morris reached for Claudy's hand.
If Claudy got fed up and ditched the party, we'd be in trouble. I was starting to think I might need to step in to smooth things over for the party's sake.
That's when Claudy snapped at him in a sharp tone.
"Hey, Morris? Can you stop harassing me already?"
"What? Harass—?"
"You heard me right. I said stop harassing."
"When did I ever harass—!"
"Ah, come on. Let's all just ignore it."
Damn it.
Party fights were the worst.
Morris's face flushed beet red.
"You seem decent."
Before Morris could respond, Claudy walked back to join me. She was avoiding him and planning to walk rear guard with me instead. He shot her a glare, fuming, then whipped his head around and stomped up to Gibson's side.
"Hoo, what a pain. Talking's fine, but why do they always have to grope? What's with the men around here being so rude?"
"Dumb adventurers gonna dumb. It's just one day, anyway. Let it slide. If you see 'em again later, just dodge."
I fielded her sudden venting. From there, Claudy and I chatted at the back.
Maybe because we were both fellow foreigners, she felt a kinship and started venting to me like a compatriot met in a strange land.
"Seriously... 'Brown skin makes you look easy,' they say? And it's not just one or two. Had to buy covering clothes because of it."
That explained the hood she'd worn since we met yesterday—it was to hide her face. Made sense; a foreign beauty like her would get hit on everywhere.
"Tell me about it. The locals here have zero class. Rude bastards. They treat me like a barbarian just 'cause my hair's black."
I played along with the gossip. Racism lingered in this world's culture, which opened the floodgates for conversation. Come to think of it, even modern Earth had remnants of that crap—this world was no better, maybe worse.
"Anyway, where you from originally, Claudy? You stand out as much as I do."
"Don't make me sound like some country bumpkin. I'm from the west—Shurduk. Haven't been here long."
Shurduk? Where's that?
"Shurduk? First I've heard of it."
"It exists. Super hot place. And it's Shurduk, not Shurden. When I first got here, I was in light clothes, and let me tell you..."
"Haha, local guys swarmed you like bees? Must've been a nightmare."
"Exactly! Ugh, the clothes here are so uncomfortable."
Wonder what "hot region" casual wear even looked like.
Dancer outfit or something?
She had a lot pent up. She seemed almost excited while complaining—probably hadn't had anyone to talk to about it since coming from afar.
Her tight leather outfit might cover flesh, but it couldn't hide her killer figure. If anything, it accentuated her curves. Seeing her exposed skin, I could understand guys going nuts if she'd shown up in whatever desert getup she used back home.
Good thing she had that hooded cloak.
"At least you're easy to talk to. Katt, right? You remind me of guys from home. I like that."
"Whoa, don't say stuff like that so casually. You're making my heart itch."
According to Claudy, men from Shurduk were mannerly gentlemen like me—polite, courteous, and crucially handsome enough to win women's hearts.
Mood improved. Men were simple creatures; just chatting with a beauty lifted spirits (Winia excluded).
"We're here. Eastern Swamp starts from this point."
Trailing behind Gibson, the scent of old mud and rotting leaves wafted over.
We'd reached the Eastern Swamp.
Looking down from the hill, we saw pools everywhere, overgrown with plants sprouting from the muck and massive trees rooted deep in the bog. Gloomy as hell—the picture of a swamp. Felt like a croc pack might pop out any second. Crocs.
"Scale Wolves strike first sometimes, so stay alert."
As Gibson said, I drew my new sword and gripped it tight as we walked. They said good gear bred confidence. With a blade like this, even a Scale Wolf felt like a one-shot.
—Rustle.
"What the hell's that?"
True to a monster-infested swamp, critters dotted the area here and there. Looked like a small pack of gnolls. They shuffled off into a corner of the bog on two legs or all fours, hunched over, in all sorts of gaits.
"Gnolls live here too, huh."
...Next time I spot one, better kill it first and, uh, harvest that thing.
It sucked, but the request was the request. Time to decide here: capture, snip the goods, release? Or kill, then snip? Tough call either way.
Neither option was merciful.
We crossed the swamp carefully to avoid sucking mud. We moved cautiously, scanning for Scale Wolves. Unlike us, Claudy's steps were feather-light.
"You move real easy."
"Back home, you'd sink in desert sand sometimes. Lightness Skill's basic stuff."
Lightness Skill? Figures she lived in a desert. Brown-skinned beauty? Had to be.
"Shh. Found it."
Gibson signaled.
We crept up silently behind him and parted the brush carefully.
—Crunch, crunch.
—Chomp, chomp.
"Stuffing its face like mad."
Beyond the brush, a Scale Wolf was gorging on gnoll meat. Front paws pinning the carcass, ripping chunks with sharp teeth and chewing sloppily. Made my full stomach churn just watching.
This bastard... eats like a champ.
"From here on, follow my lead. I'm the oldest and most experienced, so it'll be best if I call the shots."
Morris, who'd been quiet till now, finally spoke up. Dude, did we really need to say that out loud among adventurers? We all handled it situationally on the fly.
"First, surround it."
"Uh... sure."
That was the plan anyway, no need to spell it out. Morris sent Claudy and Gibson to the flanks. Once in position, we'd strike on signal—the wolf would panic, not know where to flee, attack wildly, and we'd flatten it.
"Katt, right? You charge in first. I'll follow."
"Hmm. Me first? Why not you go ahead, old man?"
...This guy's blocking?
Not even asking me to vanguard—just ordering. My tone sharpened.
"See, my weapon's an axe. You poke first, I'll cleave it in two right after."
"Yeah?"
I started to argue but decided to test my new weapon and improved skills instead.
Even back in F-rank days, I'd beaten a Scale Wolf once. Barely—total tearful ass-pucker fest, dramatic win, but it clawed a permanent scar. Ruined the hide too; barely got paid.
"Fine, I'll go first. Follow behind, old man."
Perfect chance to gauge my combat power. Let's see how far I'd come since then.
Seeing Claudy and Gibson in position, I leveled my sword, powered my legs, and charged with a banzai attack.