Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Black Mage's Request
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We hid our bodies on the hilltop, keeping watch on the entrance to the kobolds' cave. Before long, familiar friends began crawling out from deep inside the cave.
"There they are."
Kyusat. Kyusat.
Gyusasasasat.
Kyuu~ssat.
A total of four kobolds emerged from the cave, looking around cautiously. There were no Kobold Warriors among them—just frail Workers. They must have come out to gather nearby fruits or edible plant roots.
"What we need is a Scale Wolf, not kobolds."
"Uncle, who doesn't know that? You think they're crawling out to get eaten by us?"
"It'd be nice if that were the case."
Ever since that earlier argument, Morris's attitude had been prickly. There's a crude saying about age going in through the ass—Morris seemed to embody it, whether on modern Earth or in this other world.
He was an utterly unpredictable man. Even the most complex woman's heart would be relatively easy to read compared to Morris's mental state.
Kyusat.
Gyusatsat.
Chattering in their kobold-exclusive language that we could never understand, they crawled along with their noses to the ground. Blind, they relied on their sense of smell.
They looked quite peaceful.
Happy, even joyful.
Krrrarar...
Until the predator appeared.
"Here it comes."
Bursting through the vines in secrecy came a Scale Wolf, its gray hide like cement. Unable to contain its trembling excitement, it crept silently toward the kobolds.
Gyusat?
Gyusat?
Kruk...!
Pababat! The Scale Wolf leaped like lightning, sinking its teeth into the scruff of a kobold that had stupidly turned to look behind it.
Kyuu, saaaaaaaaah!!!!!!
The bitten kobold let out a heartrending wail—a scream of life itself. The kobolds' happy picnic turned to hell in an instant at the powerful predator's arrival.
Ku, kusat!
Gyusat!
The other three kobolds panicked upon seeing it, trying to flee back into the cave. They collided and tumbled in a scene straight out of the realm of starving ghosts.
Krrrarar, krek!!
But the Scale Wolf permitted no escape. It chased them down one by one, ripping into their scruffs and killing them. Slaughtering all four kobolds took less than a minute.
"That guy's got some skills."
Only after turning all four into corpses did the Scale Wolf finally seem satisfied, leisurely selecting one and tearing into its belly.
Eujek eujek.
Eujek, wuduk.
Hmm, on second thought, this was a total fisherman's gain. We'd lucked into three kobold heads for free. Brains alone would be a pain in the ass, so better take the whole heads.
"Katt. What do you think? Looks good to go now."
"That bastard's still out of it. A surprise attack now could finish it. Gibson, and... Morris. Let's go."
Even a dog doesn't get bothered while eating, but we happily decided to attack the one doing the eating.
With four of us charging down in a line, the cliff with the cave blocked the rear—no escape for it. The only concern was if it bolted into the kobold cave in desperation.
Taktaktak!
We dashed straight down the hill, forming a single-file line as we went—like a net spread toward the beast.
Kruk?
The beast, its muzzle stained red, lifted its head to look at us. It startled as if seeing its dead mother resurrected, then spun to flee—only to face the cliff.
We'd long sealed off the sides.
"Kekeke... You're fucked now, you scaly shit."
Krrrar...
I spun my sword tip, trying a hypnotic taunt. No real effect.
Fuck.
Keng!
The scouting Scale Wolf gave up fleeing and charged us. Desperate last stand, no retreat. Its target: Gibson. In that split-second life-or-death, it chose the smallest of us. Credit where due for its judgment.
"Kuh!"
Gibson slashed at the charging Scale Wolf with his sword and rolled aside. No major damage dealt. Being a kid, he lacked the weight class. I rushed to cut off its escape.
"You bastard! Picking on Gibson!"
Clady and Morris were on the opposite side. I bellowed a battle cry to herd it toward them for a three-way beatdown, but it took the cry as a challenge and lunged at me.
Lower my stance. Thrust sword forward to guard. A sword kills foes while shielding perfectly. Focus mind. Wait for the timing—
"Die!"
Slashes.
A diagonal upward slash connected.
Krek!
The Scale Wolf's left foreleg flew into the air. Blood streamed like threads between the severed ends. Finish with another? No, too close.
"You bitch!"
I adapted Karin's [Knee to the Balls Breaker] into a brutal knee to its chest. Wooduk! Its bones cracked. Like Muay Thai, the strike sent the two-meter beast flying to the other side.
Clady and Morris waited there. Fully surrounded. No way out alive. Minus one foreleg and with a dislocated shoulder, it scraped forward on hind legs alone.
...Slow.
Morris raised his axe high. Perfect form—not from a few swings' practice.
"Hup!"
With a kiai, Morris cleaved its skull in two.
Battle over.
"I got the kill again."
He said it like he'd done it solo, but Morris at least had the skill to finish what we seasoned for him.
"I didn't do shit again. Well, I'll skin it."
True to her word, Clady hadn't contributed much. I'd hoped for more from her skill. She took my dagger and skinned it again.
"Gibson, you okay? Not hurt?"
"Ah, I'm fine. My mistake."
After checking on Gibson, I approached the kobold corpses. Time to harvest heads. Lisha needed kobold brains... Endless thanks to the Scale Wolf for providing them.
Their scruffs were half-torn already—easy separation.
I stowed them carefully in the sack on my back. Drained as much blood as possible, but it'd soon be soaked and dripping.
"Why take those? Trophies?"
"Huh? Yeah, something like that."
"Some religion? Or Mirkeshan custom?"
"Uh... not really... Commission item. Someone requested it."
"Kobold heads have a use?"
"Beats me—that's what I've wondered. Why the hell ask for these?"
Clady approached, skinning done, hands bloodied again. I uncapped my waterskin.
Thus, two Scale Wolf pelts and three kobold heads acquired. Add five mana herbs, and our commission progress skyrocketed.
Afterward, drawn by the blood scent, another Scale Wolf appeared.
"Huh? Another one."
We readied for battle. But Clady stepped up, insisting she handle it and holding us back.
"Everyone stay put. I gotta do something."
Her words had a flaw.
Proper skinning was worth more than one person's share.
Krrrar...
This one seemed starved, eyes bloodshot, approaching slowly. Didn't it see the carnage? Hunger darkens a beast's eyes, but props for the guts.
"..."
Clady advanced at matching speed. Light, dainty steps. Paired with her long legs, she evoked a model. Midway, she dropped into stance.
And then.
"Huh."
Wait,
She vanished.
"Holy shit."
Krererek!
The mid-jump Scale Wolf uttered its death cry.
It happened in a flash.
Chwajajajak!!
Clady closed in so fast it seemed illusory, unleashing a true Starburst Stream. The Scale Wolf shredded mid-air and crashed down.
"Hmm~. Scales a bit damaged? Tried to be careful."
"Fucking insane."
My jaw dropped in shock.
Clady had dual-wielded at near-invisible speed, a storm of blades. The Scale Wolf origami-ed to death in jump.
This chick... is the real deal!
Why the hell is she E-rank?!
And amazingly, the pelt was barely damaged. Wounds targeted scruff, armpits, muscle joints—sparing scaled hide.
Terrifying skill.
That unbelievable technique looked mystical, transcending human limits like a mage's mana art. Mana user? Explains the movement.
"Incredible... Clady, with that skill, why E-rank? Could aim for C or even B."
"Really? Been in the city a short while. Started tempted by high-rank earnings, but promotions need achievements, right?"
"Wall even experts can't cross!"
Clady's skill was peak master level—like a sect leader. Wait, wuxia slip. Rephrasing: knight-equivalent.
Even so, new to town, no achievements kept her E-rank, scraping by. Outsider, ignorant of local ecosystem—missed big-pay gigs despite talent.
Luck for us.
"Truly astonishing movement. And the pelt's almost intact despite those strikes."
"Monster vitals are standard. Nothing special. Back home in Shurdik—land of warriors worshiping the Night Heaven War God Hell-Khan—we train martial arts from childhood."
Shurdik: nation of human weapons revering martial faith. Desert vibe from her tan skin—Islamic or Egyptian feel. Light garb plus curved swords screamed Tuareg.
Third pelt secured, past noon. One more for one each—ideal.
With Clady's superior skill, maybe double for her. If we find that many.
Strength doesn't mean endless kills. Monsters have brains—flee, hide. Packs allow massacres, but field not dungeon—no hordes here.
"One more, and we'll have one pelt each."
Gibson said.
"Then let's find the last one."