Chapter 57
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: The Black Mage's Request
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After that, unfortunately, we couldn't find many more Scale Wolves.
We only managed to spot one.
—Pffuk!
Gibson pulled the dagger firmly embedded in the Scale Wolf's scruff. We'd just succeeded in a drive hunt. Luckily, my coordinated attack with Gibson went off smoothly, allowing us to sever its breath in a single blow.
"With four hides and the mana herbs we've gathered, we should each earn about 25 to 30 coppers."
Gibson said as he wiped the blood from his blade.
A simple calculation put each Scale Wolf hide at around 20-odd coppers, and adding the mana herbs on top made for decent daily wages. These days, I'd gotten lucky with a big payout, but normally, 15 coppers a day would split your mouth wide open in joy.
Of course, I wasn't selling mine because of the request.
"Not bad earnings. Shall we head back now?"
It felt a bit early, but it was about time to call it a day. The gnolls' peppers (not in a sexual sense) were dangling tantalizingly before my eyes. A shame, but those bastards thrived anywhere, so another chance would come.
We left the skinned corpse behind and moved on.
—Keng, keng.
—Kruheng.
"A pack of gnolls."
We were retracing our steps from the earlier gnoll sweep when we ran into a pack near the mossy area. There were five of them.
Well, since we'd met, time to give them a hand.
—Grrr...
Gnolls were monsters that walked on two legs with dog-like heads. They traveled in packs, putting them on par with kobolds and goblins. Ranking their combat prowess by individual, gnolls were strongest, followed by goblins, then kobolds.
Of course, none of them were a match for me. As long as I watched out for neck bites, I could take four at once. Their bite force was no joke, but there was an absolute species gap between us. As I always said, I was in a higher weight class.
"I'll go kill them since they're in the way."
"Pointless... They'll scatter on their own."
"If you're unsure, just strike first."
Morris was right; it was pointless. If not for Risha's request. For me, carrying out a double commission, it was a necessary step.
"Hmm, this'll do."
I picked up a fist-sized rock lying around.
That's right. A chance to use Magic Bolt after ages.
I'd been itching lately from lack of use. I tossed the rock up and down, pretending not to throw while whistling a feint, then hurled it full force.
—Whistle!
The rock sliced through the air. They were a bit far, but it was a solid throw. The unlucky victim was one of the idiots staring blankly at us.
—Ppak!
—Kruheng!
"Nice!"
The bastard's head exploded with a burst—wait, no, it didn't die. It yelped once and bolted. The whole pack of five fleeing in panic was a sight to behold, a total family wipeout.
"Damn it, those fuckers."
Couldn't one-shot such low-level monsters? My skills must be rusty. Damn it all. My pride took a huge hit.
"You chased them off well. Let's go."
"Tch."
Well, I could grab the gnolls' peppers tomorrow. Owning those disgusting, brutal living dildos would corrupt your mind anyway. Maybe snag them on the last day.
If not, oh well.
That was my motto.
Do it if it works.
—Krrrng...
—Plop.
"Huh."
One of the fleeing gnolls suddenly collapsed unconscious mid-run. The one I'd nailed in the head. Delayed concussion?
I was gonna let it slide, but this bastard—nope. Collapsing right there?
I shot out from the group and charged the gnolls.
—Keng, keng!
—Keng!
There were five gnolls total. One was down from concussion, two more fled without looking back at the commotion.
Two left. They bristled their fur, standing guard before their fallen comrade, blocking the path and barking threats. Fangs bared, spittle flying—their full malice and intimidation toward me.
"Ho... You bastards gonna protect your buddy?"
I couldn't help but admire it.
In a shitty world where humans stab each other in the back and pickpocket, mere monsters willing to sacrifice for an injured packmate? Come to think of it, gnolls had high intelligence. Enough to grasp camaraderie.
—Keng keng!
—Keng! Keng!
Their tearful loyalty tugged at my heart. That fierce barking was surely fear of death. Yet they didn't flee.
And I had to castrate these good boys. Should've ignored and chased them off instead of throwing the rock.
I'm no thug killing needlessly. Normally, I'd tear up at such heartfelt, human-like camaraderie, applaud, and leave coolly. But duty called: collect gnoll peppers.
Regrettable, but no choice—kill them all.
Gotta claim what's mine.
Truly a pity.
The good boys' only crime was blocking a cruel human to protect their wounded. How could I not just kill but emasculate them? But work was work.
"...I'll send you off easy."
I swallowed tears and swung my sword.
—Slice.
Gnolls were bipedal monsters. Human sword techniques worked decently against them. Just as Karin taught, infuse killing intent into the swing.
No thick hides or scales for defense, so a centrifugal-force-charged blade spelled doom.
"Farewell."
A clean trajectory severed one gnoll's head. Perfect strike. The other charged instead of fleeing, eyes fully aware of its actions. I took its head too.
Sword attack speed is faster than you think. And sharper. I finished off the concussed one. By then, the party caught up. Morris called it pointless, Gibson and Claudy asked why kill.
"Strike first on monsters."
I replied casually, pulling my knife to harvest their peppers. I waited till the group passed discreetly, but Claudy watched and glared.
"What... Why collect those? Your hobbies are worse than I thought."
"Misunderstanding. Someone asked me to bring them."
"That make sense? Oh, right. Some nearby tribes roast stallion genitals as custom... Cultural differences, huh?"
What insane misunderstanding. Tribes eating horse dicks? Anyway, three gnoll peppers secured, I stuffed the nasty things in my pouch and followed the group.
That happened on the way back.
Near the swamp's end, we spotted one more Scale Wolf. With light heart, I fought for the final bonus. No big deal. I herded it, Gibson wounded it. It fled toward Morris.
But the fleeing Scale Wolf rammed Morris, who had his axe raised high. It swerved and leaped suddenly; Morris couldn't react. They tangled in a grapple till Claudy pierced the wolf's throat in one strike.
"You okay?"
"..."
Gibson helped up fallen Morris, who sported face and neck wounds and looked furious. Whatever—he'd cheat us soon in town anyway. Once-in-a-lifetime team-up.
Thus, we secured five Scale Wolf hides total. One each, sell the last and split. That's what I planned to say.
"I'll take this one."
Morris scratched his head and said. He grabbed the hide with his burly hand. So natural, like stating the obvious.
What the hell?
"Oh, you offering to carry it? Could just toss in my bag, thanks."
I figured maybe his "take" meant carry and settle later, thanking him. Guilt from the end made him act decent.
"What? Didn't I kill two alone? Simple math: I get an extra. This is my share."
"What."
My hopeful prediction shattered miserably.
"You keep what you kill. Adventurer's code. Don't covet others'."
"Motherfucker. Shocking. Listen to this bastard."
His logic floored me like a hammer to the head. Radical sophists would've fainted.
Sure, he landed finishing blows twice.
"You rotten shit. You kill them solo?"
But just icing on the team's prep. No, finishes count, but his bullshit demands downgrade. Finisher prick.
Killing five Scale Wolves took the whole party's bloody effort. Solo? Impossible so easily. That's why parties exist.
"Ame? What the hell?"
"Your mom exploded into pieces and died."
"...No idea. Anyway, I killed them, even if not solo."
"Cut context, you killed, so yours?"
His demeanor screamed habitual bully. No flinch at my intimidation. Must've bulldozed shit till his age.
"Twisting words. But I killed. No need for more argument."
"How old are you? Five? Look fifty-something, but think with your dick."
"You're rude."
"Bullshit!"
That E-rank at his age had reasons.
Total asshole.
His mental fortitude against my curses deserved credit.
Some adventurers like that: minor skill, major trash personality. Forgot amid normal folk lately, but most adventurers were personality-wrecked scum.
F-grade days' grievances? Three days nonstop. Elise... Kobson... Meria... They softened me.
"Now, Mr. Katt. Calm down. And Mr. Morris, that's not right. We all killed the monsters..."
Claudy crossed arms, glaring at Morris. Gibson approached to restrain, speaking up.
"Useless kid talks big. Why party with brats."
"..."
Morris sneered.
If per him, Gibson finished the fourth—calling him useless mismatches.
"No complaints? This is justly mine. Let's head back."
Morris shouldered his axe, turning naturally. Newbies might fall for it. Overlook for his bulk and axe, chalk to bad luck.
But I wouldn't indulge such crap. Especially money.
Suppressing boiling impulse, I glared at Morris.
"Got a problem?"
Morris said.
"Fuck ton, you retard."
I drew my sword.