Chapter 306
Chapter: 306
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 306
>Chapter Title: Demon King No. 2 (4)
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Bartosa of the Purma tribe.
He was shouting confidently in front of the Delcross camp right now, but inwardly, unlike his outward appearance, he was filled with anxiety.
‘…I didn’t want things to escalate this far!’
After losing their chieftain twice in a row during the previous war, the Purma tribe had been on the decline.
Though he had been pushed out of the contest for chieftain, Bartosa was a man brimming with ambition. And so, he had boldly abandoned his own tribe, seeking refuge with Karazan, one of the most powerful tribes.
-Our tribe has become a pack of cowards who know no shame and are heading toward ruin!
Of course, when he finally managed to face Wakana the Warrior, Bartosa didn’t forget to dress up his betrayal in fine words before this old fox.
-I have abandoned my tribe to avenge our chieftain! For revenge, I have even cast aside my pride as a warrior!
-Hoo….
-I, Bartosa, will ride alongside Barsha’s fiercest Karazan brothers and drive the empire’s rabble completely from our ancestors’ lands! So grant me one more chance to wield a weapon!
But the Karazan chieftain, who had listened silently to his words, responded with an amused expression.
-Splendid. Bartosa.
Praise that sounded purely genuine, contrary to his reputation for ruthlessness. Bartosa raised his head with a glimmer of hope. And then, he froze in place.
The old chieftain Wakana the Warrior was looking down at him as if appraising a beast about to have its throat slit, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
-Have you abandoned a warrior’s pride and even the chance to stand before the spirits of our great ancestors? That must mean your thirst for revenge against the empire is that immense. In that case, I have just the way to help you.
…This isn’t what I wanted.
His jaw began to tremble visibly from the ominous premonition, and then the old fox added from above his head, as if bestowing a favor.
-Fortunately, one of our tribe’s young ones has made something quite amusing. With this, you could kill Delcross’s Owen right now. To ensure your feat is passed down to posterity, I’ll even assign some of our warriors to you.
-Ch, Chieftain….
-What’s this? It’s only fitting for a steadfast warrior who has resolved to wander in eternal solitude even in death. As your Barsha brothers, it’s the natural aid—please don’t refuse.
-….
And so, after even accepting the drink poured by the chieftain, he had been dragged here against his will by a group of warriors whose purpose—whether to help or monitor him—he couldn’t discern.
He had eyed chances to flee several times along the way, but there was no real method. The moment he showed any suspicious signs, the weapon aimed at Owen would turn on him instead.
“Come out already! Delcross’s Owen!”
That was why, even as he bellowed for Owen at the top of his lungs, he kept repeating this inwardly.
‘Don’t come out, Owen! Please don’t step outside!’
Bartosa’s eyes darted around anxiously.
Just then, not only were there imperials around them, but also a few people from Barsha tribes who traded with them. The warriors sent by Wakana the Warrior must have disguised themselves as Purma warriors, however clumsily, for that reason.
‘Whether we succeed or fail, today’s events will spread throughout all of Barsha!’
For him, the best outcome was Owen ignoring this provocation. If that happened, he could seek refuge with Karazan boasting of having made that famous Owen cower.
But if Owen accepted the duel—
‘Even if we succeed by some chance, the imperials who lost their chieftain’s son won’t let us live….’
And unfortunately for Bartosa, Owen was a valiant warrior who lived up to his fame without shortcoming.
Creak—
Soon, the palisade gate opened, and a tall young man in greaves approached Bartosa. He held a massive bludgeon in one hand.
The young man’s long braid fluttered in the wind with so many feathers that it was hard to believe they were from such a short period of campaigning.
‘It’s come to this after all!’
In that moment, Bartosa resolved himself to death.
Thud thud thud.
With every step Owen took, the bludgeon in his hand dragged along the ground, kicking up acrid clouds of dust.
A hefty war hammer adorned with crude decorations. It was a familiar item even to Bartosa’s eyes.
“That’s…?”
“Do you recognize it? You’d better.”
Owen bared his teeth in a grin.
“At the very least, a guy like you who dares invoke the chieftain’s blood price can’t be from Karazan.”
“……!”
He already knows our group’s identity?
As Bartosa aimed his axe while breaking into a cold sweat, Owen tossed it—thunk!—to the ground and rolled his shoulders.
“This is a trophy I took from slaying the Purma chieftain back then. If you can kill me and avenge your tribe’s defeat, I’ll gladly hand it over. Take it back to your tribe and honor your chieftain’s spirit together.”
An indirect promise that even if he himself died, he wouldn’t kill Bartosa if he won the duel.
‘…Is that for real?’
He couldn’t fully trust an imperial. But now, all Bartosa had to cling to was that light word from Owen.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Having steeled himself one final time, Bartosa charged desperately at Owen.
* * *
Thwack!
Bartosa’s axe slammed uselessly into the chieftain’s hammer planted in the ground. Owen had dodged the attack by leaping into the air.
Spin.
Propping himself on the hammer’s haft with one hand, Owen twisted around and kicked toward Bartosa’s head.
A blow that looked light but was loaded with heavy aura.
‘……!’
Bartosa barely ducked to avoid it. Of course, he couldn’t save the clump of feathers and hair from the crown of his head that tore away.
His body was already covered in minor wounds anyway, so who cared about some hair.
‘…Is the gap really this wide?’
Panting raggedly, Bartosa staggered back. Owen didn’t pursue, merely staring blankly at him.
He had felt something off about that from earlier. Owen wasn’t desperate to attack him. And for good reason—the man hadn’t let go of the chieftain’s hammer stuck in the ground at all while moving.
Using the haft as a shield or pivot to turn, he kept vigilant watch on his surroundings. An attitude that treated the likes of Bartosa as beneath notice.
‘No way he’s noticed the poison needles….’
Who in the world would expect Barsha warriors to resort to ambush? This had to be pure contempt for him!
And what infuriated him even more was that Owen showed no sign of drawing his own cherished blade!
“Grr….”
As he let out a groan of rage, Owen spoke up.
“One last warning. Do you intend to keep up this meaningless fight? You and those young warriors are nothing but discarded pawns of Wakana the Warrior.”
“…….”
“It’d be better if you all became fugitives wandering the plains—at least you’d keep your lives.”
Though addressing Bartosa, Owen’s eyes were on the Karazan warriors standing behind them with shields raised. He had already grasped who held the reins in this situation.
“Don’t make me laugh, imperial! How dare you insult a warrior’s honor!”
Sensing the Karazan warriors’ mood turn menacing, Bartosa gripped his numb hand around his axe and shouted.
If Owen had just slaughtered them all brutally, it wouldn’t have been this humiliating. Owen was thoroughly disgracing the warriors’ honor, rendering Wakana the Warrior’s entire scheme pointless.
‘Even if I survive here like this, I’ll die! I’ll die by Wakana the Warrior’s hand!’
Having burned his bridges, Bartosa charged at Owen once more—
The instant Owen’s eyes turned toward his axe—
The lead Karazan warrior with shield raised suddenly puffed out his cheeks without warning.
Whoosh!
With a faint whistle of wind, a sharp poison needle shot toward Owen. It was timing even Bartosa hadn’t anticipated.
“……!”
But at that moment, the hammer haft Owen gripped tilted smoothly forward.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
As if drawn in, the darts struck the broad haft and bounced outward.
“H-How…!”
Bartosa’s eyes went wide—
Swish! Swish!
Two nearby Karazan warriors fired additional poison needles. They were thin, small darts invisible to ordinary eyes, but—
Ting ting ting!
Owen deflected them all with the hammer haft again, as if he had foreseen it.
“Darts! They’re using darts!”
Sir Abigail, realizing the situation a beat late, loosed an arrow from behind the palisade.
Swoosh—thunk!
One of the rear Karazan warriors took it straight to the forehead and toppled backward.
The archers who joined in afterward, along with Alicia, showered arrows on the remaining warriors before they could even draw weapons.
Thud! Thud!
The clustered warriors collapsed to the ground without a chance to act.
“……!”
Arrows rained down over their heads.
Caught in this sudden turn of events, Bartosa floundered, unable to do anything.
Right then, one of the fallen warriors stealthily raised his head and slipped a poison needle into his mouth. They were trying to completely erase evidence that they were Karazan, not Purma.
Thwack!
But his attempt was foiled by a flying hand axe. Owen, having released the hammer haft, had drawn his own axe and hurled it at the man’s skull.
“How about this? Consider your life spared as payment for the blood price.”
Glancing at the rigidly frozen Bartosa with a grin, Owen crouched to hurriedly collect the poison needles and weapons. Then he looked up to check the newly appeared quest completion window.
[Sudden Quest - Mysterious Poison Needle Collection]
[Quest Rank: A]
[Overall Evaluation: You astutely detected the poison needles your enemies were hiding and successfully collected them. However, had you stopped them before they could all be fired, a complete collection would surely have been possible. Lament your lacking reflexes and strive to hone your skills further in the future.]
[Completion Rank: C+]
[Reward: 60(-20) P-Cash]
[*This item can be used in the Pangea Chronicle shop window.]
‘So the status window’s warning was real.’
Owen stuck out his tongue in amazement.
Using poison darts in an honorable duel—something no true Barsha warrior would do.
Thanks to that, he had nearly let his guard down and taken a needle at a critical moment. If not for the status window’s quest, that is.
The status window’s rewards were never this stingy except in one case: when it tossed him a warning quest out of the blue like a favor.
‘Thanks, status window.’
As Owen sent his gratitude mentally, a new window popped up with a pling.
[Flattery won’t yield any extras. Lament your utterly lacking reflexes and strive to hone your skills further in the future.]
[Completion Rank: C+]
[Reward: 60(-20) P-Cash]
[*This item can be used in the Pangea Chronicle shop window.]
Ahh, right. There goes any gratitude.
“These weapons are now rightfully mine. I’ll collect these and show them to Bolanta’s elders.”
Owen looked down at the still stiffly frozen Bartosa and spoke lowly.
“Go. Tell Wakana the Warrior.”
In that instant, to Bartosa, Delcross’s Owen seemed a beast more threatening than Karazan’s old fox.
“If you want to drag all the Barsha tribes into war, go ahead and try. I swear on my name as Owen: on that battlefield, not a single Karazan will survive.”
* * *
Meanwhile, at the same time.
Seongjin, summoned by Amelia to the Silver Rose Palace, met an unexpected person in the reception room. It was Isabella Scarzapino, whose eyes went wide while drinking tea.
“Eek?”
As Seongjin glared with fierce eyes, Isabella paled and hurriedly spat her tea—pfft—back into the cup. Behavior utterly unbecoming the queen of high society, lacking all grace and poise.
Cough cough!
Hearing the ensuing fit of wild coughing, Seongjin subtly furrowed his brow.
‘What kind of reaction is that?’
But more importantly, why the hell was that guy in the Silver Rose Palace?