Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Star Fall (25)
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“Hero, couldn’t you stick with us just a little further? Just over the ridge, to the imperial territory...”
“I told you already. I’d love to help the Gold Guides, but I’ve got duties to the Church.”
“Ugh...”
Roman’s perfect enlightenment on airship crafting became the trigger for the group and caravan to part ways a bit earlier than planned. It wasn’t that they no longer needed the Gold Guides now that they had an airship. Someone had to backtrack the way they came, so they split up before venturing deeper.
“Such a shame, truly a shame! My friend! Traveling the world with you would surely bring ‘even more astonishing inspirations’! That’s the feeling I get!”
“R-Really? That’s... heartbreakingly disappointing, Roman!”
No exaggeration. That line was a signal that dragging him along as a companion would yield another brilliant invention! If the famous mana particle charging station came next after the airship... it’d recharge and recycle spent mana stones automatically, birthing a semi-permanent infinite power airship. Even if not that, just a decent mana cannon would rain mana blasts from the skies, rivaling Star Wars...!
Slurp!
Ahhh, I wanted to take him so bad. Just one more burst, one more, and world clear on easy mode, then from there on, grind high-potential hero units into legendary heroes or assassinate future threats! No need to hunt enemies fitting for heroes! Like with Tobrun, pop in as a red mutant—bam!—and play the villain!
“Hero? What wicked thoughts are making that face?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
Lucilla’s voice from the cart atop our group snapped me out of the poisonous mushroom of happy delusions sprouting wildly. Lucilla barely scraped by the cutline herself; dragging a pure non-combat unit like Roman would kill her in seconds. Hold back. Hold back!
“Well... it’s time to part ways then.”
“Hahaha! ‘For now’! Right, Caravan Leader? Professor!”
The group split into three.
Roman heading back to Teldrat, the caravan’s base, to start full airship production with a few mercenaries as escorts.
The Gold Guide caravan riding the Ray Line straight over the mountains into imperial lands.
And us, heading deeper into the Blue Line Mountains to the exiled elves’ village.
The standout was that the girl merchant ‘Lucilla’ had joined our group.
With fewer people, the Caravan Leader approached me with a small pack on his back, offering a handshake.
“Take good care of Lucilla, Hero. She’s young, but sharp with numbers and full of talent—handling a trade route at her age. She won’t be a burden.”
“Well... I’ve confirmed she’s a merchant with her own skills... but wouldn’t it be safer to set a meetup point instead of attaching her to us?”
“Impossible. As you see, we carry goods too valuable to appraise easily in the Empire. Raids can happen anytime, derailing plans. So we split the cargo with pre-arranged caravan members in the Empire, scatter, then reconvene via our emergency network once the deal’s set.”
“Hmm... quite the elaborate... method.”
“Hahaha. No need to sugarcoat it. It’s crude, but with our house declining and short on escorts, it’s our best. When the time’s right, we’ll contact you through Lucilla.”
“...No choice then.”
And so, Lucilla joined our group.
“Boss. That kid doesn’t look strong. You really taking her?”
“Ah, that’s fine. I checked. She’s at least not a burden.”
“In the heart of the Blue Line Mountains, she can fend for herself? That little girl?”
“Hmph! I’ve been discriminated against my whole life for my looks, and now you’re underestimating me because I look young?”
“Not underestimating—just worried about you...?!”
As Borca tried persuading Lucilla, she dove into the cart’s cargo pile and vanished. I poked Borca’s side and asked.
“How’s that? Can you sense her?”
“This... truly bizarre skill. I saw her enter clearly, but no scent, no presence, not even tracks.”
Pop!
“Ta-da! Merchants have their own tricks!”
Borca could only nod at Lucilla emerging from the opposite side of the hole.
“She’d have been a master assassin.”
“Different thing. That’s a merchant’s survival skill.”
As I started explaining more to Borca, the Gold Guides signaled they’d go ahead.
“We can’t get caught in the Hero’s commotion, so we’ll head out first.”
“Fine. See you... in the Empire.”
“Mmm, may those blessed hands of yours fill with gold.”
“We’re off too! Let’s meet again—not on land, but in the skies!”
“Yeah. Make it flagship-sized, big enough to bulldoze a castle gate.”
“Hahaha! A ship that crushes gates... wonder if Teldrat has that much premium lumber left! Hahaha!”
With Roman and the caravan splitting along the Ray Line, our group headed into the dense woods at the Blue Line’s core.
Me carrying the cart, Lucilla riding atop, the others eyeing her with worry.
No need to explain. If combat hit, they’d see she wasn’t dead weight without words.
****
Slash!
Each swing of the werewolf’s claws sent ghoul heads tumbling, slick with black ooze. Borca shook his throbbing hand and booted a falling ghoul body hard.
“Gaaak!”
“Kreeeek!”
The dense, heavy corpse smashed into undead, their wails echoing. Not really wails—undead responded to every stimulus with death-rattle cries.
As the group caught breath in the gap from collapsing undead, dozens of yellow eyes gleamed from the woods. His exhale turned to a sigh.
“Boss! Too many for me alone!”
“Same here! Aldrich! These are undead—can’t you do that thing from last time? Area turn undead?”
“Nightfall maybe, but midday like now? No chance!”
“Xan Makara! Mashar! GRAAAaaaaa!!!!”
Splash! Slash!
“Notum can! Useless old geezer!”
“Shut it, half-baked water mage who can’t cast attack spells! Notum’s beyond standard soul arts!”
The Professor watched Ottoman and Aldrich bicker yet synergize perfectly to repel undead.
Borca and I handled fast heavies first; Notum blocked ghost-types; the mages swept the weak rabble.
Aldrich reached out; a small white hand popped from the cart, tossing holy water and church fruit wine precisely onto his palm. With lightning hands, he mixed them with his blood and incantation, crafting soul-infused ritual sake.
“Thou who shared the oath! Journey the world in step with me! [Ottoman Baudelaire’s Sea Stride]!”
Ripple—
Ottoman’s concentric waves swept undead, coated thin with the sake. The soul-laced alcohol dulled them like drunks.
Magic linkage. Different schools at that—high art beyond most mages.
Having cleared their zones, the group rushed to the cart without word.
“Professor! Pushed ‘em back!”
“Get ready! Control’s weakening—they’ll come again!”
A week since entering Blue Line’s heart.
Day 1: Pushed through mildly unusual undead.
Day 2: Endless mermaids and drowners from a found spring; ran all day.
Day 3: Misstepped into famed named undead ‘Wraith Three Knights’ from 70-year-ago 2nd World records; berserked, shredded body barely hurling them over ridge to flee.
Day 4: Paid for berserk sans mutant blood; body shrunk, retired—revived barely with holy water and Notum’s fresh troll blood, carried all day fleeing.
After recovery, two nights dodging persistent undead horde, finally nearing the puppetmaster.
- Meeeooowwww -
A black cat landed lightly in the cleared spot. Torn ears, blind eye, missing forepaw—scarred, exuding chill-inducing aura just by appearing.
“Incoming!”
“Plug ears! Instant-death spell! Hear it full, you drop dead!”
“Look at shadow, not eyes! Curse if you meet gaze!”
“Hold breath! Curseflies!”
Like Wraith Three Knights, 70-year recorded named undead ‘Wild Cat Who Died Eight Times’. Former Abundance Church guardian spirit beast lost eight of nine lives amid undead revolt, birthing insane mutant ‘wild monster black mage’ with unmatched life thirst and death grasp.
- Meeeooowww -
“Guh, ughhh!”
“Stay... conscious! Lose it, you die! Recall lost comrades!”
“GRRAAAAAHHH!!!”
As the cat’s eerie cry unleashed engulfing shadow,
Crack!
From the encircled cart, a pale small hand thrust up, slamming the hook on a ‘Handful of Light’.
“Eyes shut! Flashbang—toss!”
Crick, craaack!
Fwoosh!
Countless cracks spidered the girl’s glass vial; it shattered, blinding the dim midday clearing.
- Kee-shaak! Meeeooowwwn -
The holy-light dispelled curses, bit death aura, and struck the cat’s body directly.
Wounded cat faded; encircling undead collapsed like marionettes with cut strings.
“Now!”
Professor snapped eyes open, hoisting cart. Notum grabbed Aldrich and Ottoman; Borca clutched map, sprinting ahead.
“Run like hell! Great Black Cat’s endgame boss—hurts, hides long! Only chance now!”
“How long?”
“Uh...”
- Jokasss: Per Levit Princess 2nd World official play vid, Demon King Cat doused in holy water took 270 mins to return.
“4 hours 30!”
“What?! Shit! Can’t just kill it? It’s hurt!”
“No! Stronger several-fold per wound; desperate, spews black mana summoning all undead! Immortal trait too!”
“Damn! Shouldn’t come here!”
Borca sped up, checking sun and map; I nodded inwardly.
Blue Line’s old masters this fierce? Thought berserk tank-rush’d plow to elf village if needed; couldn’t even snag one of three knights.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Vs non-mutants, Prof’s nothing special.
- Take a Look: Non-mutant fights, hard to call hero-tier til mana for full-body Blood Armor.
- Mukaba: Thank Lucilla-sama quick, pray to Ro-Haram. Without her, long undead fodder A,B,C,D,E.
- Deer Drug Please: Fuckin real. Who knew merchant skills shine here.
- Speed Wagon: Worth studying. Companions never properly researched.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Thus, all hail the cutie time~
- Take a Look: Future plays, companions by looks only. Heroic points solid.
Chat flooded with Lucilla praise. No wonder—we’d be dead without her.
Still recovering heavy body trailing Borca, tapped cart; Lucilla peeked from cargo.
“What!”
“Flashbangs left?”
“Three! Maybe four! Squeeze five!”
Asked count, got range. Un-merchant-like, but her traits’ influence.
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Companion: Lucilla Aedran
Gender: Female
Age: 19 (est.)
Job: Gold Guide Caravan Member (former lead merchant)
Traits: Crouched Fawn (hiding reduces presence—no movement) / Dandelion Steps (noise reduction, trend sense, crisis evasion boost) / Late Bloomer / Merchant Arithmetic (Expert) / Teldrat Social Method (Advanced) / Dried Squid Squeeze (consumables used by target have chance not to consume) / Eye of the Great Merchant (Intermediate) / Long-Distance Trade Proficiency (Intermediate)
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NPC status unlocks when they reveal name and join as companion. Pre-join: locked.
Initially rejected Gold Guides’ push for Lucilla as baggage; she huffed up, listed skills—mind changed.
‘Top continent caravan prospect’s different league.’
Status pop confirmed: skills near-perfect merchant kit. ‘Crouched Fawn’ mandatory for player merchants, community aka ‘Bambi’. Rest gems.
All great, but eyed ‘Dried Squid Squeeze’.
[Dried Squid Squeeze: Stingy to extreme, you master frugality—scrap leftovers into new goods! / Grants target-used consumables chance not to consume.]
Target consumables free chance.
Saw it, said yes immediately. Cart held church-stocked pricey combat consumables for war. Lucilla uses ‘em proxy? Free extras probabilistic? Irresistible! Into mountains.
“Eeeek! You’re some capable hero! Church-certified luminary! Fake?!”
“Fake my ass! See this relic! Undead/beast foes now; mutants, few match me!”
“Conditional gimmick trash! Junk! Rotten straw!”
- Meeeooowww -
“Kyaa! Already?! Four hours fine you said!”
“Holy water vs flashbang damage diff!”
“Shoddy hero! Fraud! Overhype! Defective—”
“Later! Toss now!”
“Ughhh, wasting pricey church ‘Handfuls’ like this! Eyes shut!”
Chill aura, living shadows darting trees, ominous cat cries—Lucilla drew flashbang.
Squeeze!
Eyes shut sharpened senses; curse rushed vivid. Amid desperate,阴湿 black mana slashes, sharp cool wind... wind? Cool?
“Hm?”
Thuk!
Eyes cracked at odd vibe; arrow pierced Professor gut-deep to fletching, sharp pain.
“Arrow?”
“Shit! Boss!”
“Archers! Front too!”
“Fuck, surrounded!”
“Told ya kill that mad cat first!”
Borca cursed, checked arrowed Professor. Dead-center chest; yet grinning weirdly. Reminded Borca of tribesman who ate hallucinogenic shrooms—grinned to near-death like this cousin.
“P-Poison! Boss poisoned!”
“Outta way! Sunset soon, I’ll smite those vile archers—”
“Don’t!”
Professor blocked Aldrich opening soul jar, stepping forward. Attack now? No.
Gulped regurgitating blood from punctured gut, grinning.
- Miuung, meeeeng! Yaaowng! -
Furious-yet-not-approaching Wild Cat.
Nothing in his or Borca’s sharp eyes; sudden arrow.
Above all, chest shaft: not carved wood, grown natural arrow-shape.
Even idiot’d know shooter.
Professor raised hands surrender-style, walked arrow-direction yelling.
“Don’t shoot! Allies! We’re righteous hero party—”
Thuk!
Thuk! Thuk!
“Boss! Arrows!”
“Cough, f-fine! Elves wary natural. Here for aid. No threat, they’ll accept—”
Pew-pew-pew!
“Professor! Legs!”
“Grrrh! N-Nonviolence! Gandhi said! Want peace? Drop weapons first, approach! They’ll—”
Thuk—!
Thud.
[Fuck! Sleeping here, what?!]
“Boooss!”
“Hey!!”
Consciousness flicked out; woke to Hyde cursing. Back on ground, brow/nape wet.
Head this time.
‘...These fuckers?’
Dizzy mind: preaching Gandhi slyly pulled corn and anti-tank missile.
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