Chapter 220
Chapter 220
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Letters to the Wind Mage (13)
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“Slow down a bit! We’re not as tough as you or Borca....”
“Use some magic to hang in there! We have to arrive before the mages do!”
“The direction the moon is rising. Five returning mages.”
Splash!
The Professor, half-transformed into his monster form as he leaped across the valley, quickly ducked behind a boulder at Yggdrasil’s words.
There was no upside to being spotted by the mages returning from their search. From here on, they planned to pull all sorts of tricks on the nest now entering high alert, which naturally meant a high chance of shifting to monster form during movement and combat. The moment those magic barbarians saw the ‘red mutant’ who’d caused all that chaos hanging out chummily with the guest party, their target would obviously swing straight to them.
“....The frequency of their returns is dropping.”
“I spotted a few faint letters fluttering about. The mages left at home base are probably calling back those who went out far for the search.”
“Our leeway.... isn’t much. Borca, how much farther?”
“Almost there. The valley under Shaking Rock beyond that outcrop.”
“About 5 km. Let’s hurry. That Rank 6 geezer didn’t look like he had much patience.”
Wind mages could fly unaffected by terrain, so they’d move far faster than the party.
The Professor hurried his steps, calculating spare time for movement and the operation en route, his mind racing.
****
“We’re here. Down there.”
“No need to tell me. The mutant stench is overpowering.”
The narrow valley, faintly lit by moonlight, looked like the site of a massive battle no matter who saw it.
Slash marks everywhere as if hacked by thousands of giant blades, mingled with scorch marks and melted rocks in between.
At first explanation, he’d thought it was an ambush with delay spells fired wildly during escape, but the scale suggested a proper drawn-out fight.
A werewolf’s yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight, and Borca whispered in his ear as he approached silently.
“There’s definitely a mutant smell, but unlike the boss predicted, no extra guards seem to have been produced. Not a single movement.”
“Hmm. I see it differently.”
The valley visible dimly in the moonlight was dead silent, but his throbbing body and nose, screaming for mutant blood right now, said otherwise.
‘My eyesight’s decent, but compared to a werewolf unmatched in night vision, it’s nothing. If he can’t see it, neither can I.’
Instead of scanning the valley, the Professor closed his eyes.
A rocky valley in the dead of night, filled only with faint wind and the party’s shallow breaths.
In that stillness, he focused harder on the familiar throbbing urge. The sensation pushing from inside, whispering to grow huge and rampage.
When the Professor refused to budge despite the raging impulse, it thrashed wilder, reaching for the prey right in front of him.
....Tap. ....Tap. ....Tap.
An indescribable eerie sensation guided him. Seeing with ears, hearing with eyes—an unknown sense. Even through inhaled breath and air on his tongue, the pounding heartbeats felt vivid.
Red masses appeared overlaid on his closed eyelids, and he unwittingly wiped drool from his mouth.
“Tch. Whew, there’s a ton. Good thing we didn’t get closer.”
“Found them?”
“Yeah. They’re well hidden.”
“....I can’t see a thing no matter how I look. Where?”
“Right where you’re looking, loads of them. Hold on. I’ll show you soon. Otman, ready?”
“30 seconds—no, 20 more. Plenty of groundwater from the rain I spread earlier, but the water I was pulling can’t keep up with you, so I’ve only gathered about half...”
“That’s enough. Mind if I borrow 2 liters?”
“Gather your own, you punk!”
“Heh heh. You know if I go monster form and leave traces, it’s a mess. Gotta play pure mage this time. Lots of mana to use, so cut me some slack.”
Slosh!
Palm to the ground, and he felt Otman’s familiar mana-infused water below. The Professor gently drew it up, trickling it carefully over the valley surface. It soaked the parched valley floor and a few rock chunks before sinking in.
The party watched silently as he pointed at the wet rock.
Rustle!
Then, what he’d thought was rock stirred, and eight spindly legs emerged, scrambling to escape the wet ground.
“W-what’s that?”
“Mutant aside, no clue. But I figured something like that was here.”
The Professor grinned, sensing mutant heartbeats packed densely everywhere.
“After blasting the valley with enough magic to flip it, the nest intact means they dug deep enough into the rock to avoid the magic’s reach. Chamber maids beyond basic production and adaptation wouldn’t have that digging power, so I figured there’d be a burrowing-type mutant.”
No matter how the rock-backed mutant struggled to flee, the magically controlled water relentlessly soaked its rock, and finally, it gave up—the eight legs retracted inward, and the rock with legs lifted up.
Thud.
The hollow rock tumbled away, revealing a crab-like creature.
‘Hermit crab vibe.’
Shucking off its rock shell, it scurried off, squeezing into rock slashed by wind cutters and covering itself with sand.
“That’s how they hid.... Even our senses didn’t catch it.”
“When still, it’s almost inanimate. That behavior’s instinct to blend naturally nearby, not water hate. A single wet rock in a dry valley stands out.”
His senses picked up hundreds of the things. Probably every loose rock in this valley was one.
The familiar leg tips suggested the sniper mutants that hit the mages were these too.
‘Not just individual power-focused mutants—they’ve evolved to produce environment-adapted custom ones. Perfect for rock valley: whole rocks as cover, great against wind blades or lightning.’
Mages said no hot air balloons due to flying mutants. But only these crab types detected nearby.
‘....Small nest. Bit of a letdown.’
Chamber maids produce mutant varieties by nest size. Small: one type. Medium: 2-3. Village-scale large: 6-7.
No queen-like adaptation, so this nest specialized in crab mutants.
Meaning another nest hiding somewhere in the rocky valley produced the flying bird mutants blocking balloons.
‘Ideally sweep them all at once.... Stir some close-call panic here, draw bird mutant reinforcements? Follow to the other nest...’
Splash!
[Yggdrasil here. Departed mages just passed the three-peak rock.]
“Tch. No dice.”
He’d toyed with the idea but shelved it at Yggdrasil’s message. Sounded workable, but mages were too fast—already midpoint.
“Alright, 3 minutes to wind train rendezvous. Everyone start your assignments~”
“Hmm. We’ve routed mages before, and just helping this much feels off....”
Otman voiced doubt if this was enough, suggesting big spells like reverse waterfall or river summon, but the Professor firmly refused.
“Hey now! Engineering work looks minor, but that’s what decides battles. Not all fighting’s hacking, blasting, smashing. As discussed: Otman and Notum on nest assault, rest prep retreat.”
Strictly, not quite engineering, but boosting ally firepower efficiency—close enough.
“Ahem. Professor, I share Otman’s view.... Do I really have nothing to do?”
“Huh? Lord Aldrich, you.... bored?”
“No, not that. Lately, events always daytime so I missed out, and now nighttime work but sitting idle feels....”
Ah, night-limited powerhouse’s pride bruised. Sure, everyone bustling while ‘Sorry, sun’s up...’ stings.
Of course, Aldrich had work. His soul arts could hit the swarming mutants hard. But no wasting it here. Firepower overflowed from those runaway train pals alone.
“Left Aldrich as reserve. For uninvited guests.
“Reserve? For what?”
“Uh.... Uninvited guests. Remember first chamber maid hunt?”
“Yeah. Guards crawled out like last time....”
“Not those grunts. Something always shows when you poke a nest. We’re waiting to snag it if it does.”
Thud thud.
“Notum. All weeds found. Water mage start or can’t. Obstacles bad.”
“Got it, got it. Not hard, starting now.”
While the Professor explained Aldrich’s ‘reserve’ duty, Otman moved at Notum’s urging.
Drip—clack! Tok!
“It is the river flowing in the sky. [Steam].”
1st-circle water spell activated with rough hand seal: Steam.
Psssh—
Sizzle—
Guided by Otman, subsurface water turned to steam, filling the valley.
!!!!
“Kak- kakakak!”
“Kak? Tap tap tap!”
“Kakakak! Ttak, kak!”
Steam saturated the small valley, wetting rocks, valley, mutants alike. Rock crabs, shocked by sudden change, rose one by one with irritable scraping. Unlike before, keeping wet rock shells—whole valley wet, no standout.
‘Best if they ditched rocks too, but soaked enough now.’
Seeing droplets pooling and flowing between valley rocks, mutants bolted somewhere.
Varied rocks crawled walls, converging. Even idiots would spot the important thing: narrow natural floor crevice, flat crab mutants blocking water above.
“That ‘maid’ down there, huh?”
“Yes. Dug into rock terrain, so rain pools. Digging with drainage? Not mere mutant—named boss? Not sure if chamber maid drowns, but basic mutants prioritize queen/chamber defense. Anomaly? They swarm protectees.”
“Hundreds of rocks moving in sync—creepy.”
“Cute mutants? Ideology check first. Due any moment. Where’re the mages....”
“There.”
“Hm? Already visible?”
“Blind could see.”
Calculating Yggdrasil’s sighting time/distance/speed, the Professor turned puzzled—then got it.
Rumble. Rumbllle.
Furious wind mages, reassembled including search teams, charging again.
Dark night sky hid them, but their thundercloud was vivid.
‘This’ll stick proper.’
Wind magic usually lacks physical punch. Bad matchup vs dug-in nest and half-buried rock-shell spike-firing mutants.
But not this time. Valley soaked for prime lightning conduction, clustered tight at nest to miss none.
Crackle. Crackle.
Mages halted far off, beyond mutant projectile range—unilateral bombing from safe altitude. Smart.
Mana prickled from distant thundercloud; mutants sensed, grew frantic, leg-tips shifting from mages to ground. Wet rocks tore, dust rose in thick steam as they burrowed fast.
Kwarakak! Kwak!
Sinking instantly—scraping nest-rooted ground to relocate deeper, safer.
Professor stayed chill.
‘Lately all mutants ditched old patterns, but this one’s familiar playbook.’
Mid-3rd world timeline, but mutant IQ spikes made timelines moot.
Endgame: mega earthworm nests mobile in gut. Current evolution pace? Combat secondary, that ingenuity? Check. Escape pattern predictable.
Hence prepping Notum ages ago.
“TrEna do MuuiKta. wUtra viNe! En-tangle!”
Sssplurt!
With Notum’s chant, plump plant stems poked from cracked rock gaps.
Lunch had ‘drowner weed’ or whatever—deep-buried aquatic, sprouts for rain water.
‘Disciple said rains bring foot-tripping hordes hereabouts?’
Local plants prime druid/shaman catalysts. Use if available.
Otman’s groundwater glut had drowner weeds stretching tips toward it.
Told Notum: gather for restraint ritual if they flee.
No need force; slimy wet weeds tangled burrowing leg-tips, slowing digs massively. Meantime, mages’ thundercloud birthed orb lightning lighting night like day.
Krarararumble!!!
“Kakakakak! Kak! Kak!”
“Kkikik, kakak! Kak kak!”
Thud! Puthud! Thud!
Finally freed lightning split valley, striking soaked mutants. Screech-friction? Fuse pops—crab shells bursting nonstop.
Valley charred black from brutal strike. Thundercloud already forming second orb.
“Done. Success.”
“....Yes. Success—for the maid hunt.”
Sigh.
“‘Hunt’? More was there?”
Otman eyed Professor’s visibly deflated look.
“Yeeah. Target worth way more than one nest. Came separate from mages for it, stockpiled blood mana waiting.... Oh, Lord Aldrich, drop the spell. Didn’t show.”
“Pity, Nel’ll be bummed. Hyped for that last missed meal.”
Ugh, shame. Nest gone, but real prey no-show.
‘Palkatus, you coward punk.’
Parted from variable hordes too, but if only, synced pace, rained anyway.
Last chamber maid raid: nuked few guards, most mutants swarmed on earthworm rides—way tougher fight.
Met named mutant then: Palkatus. Queen’s nth kid? Schemer via my blood trait.
Lordric pullback, empire tentacles? ‘More schemes?’ Poke nest, snag this time.
Sneak ahead of mages, minimal mana/fight for nest prep—lest mutant-parasited wind mage spots us all.
Aldrich’s mystery soul ‘Nel’ nearly ended Palkatus once; sans named/2-3rd mutant hordes, won’t show. So stealth to here, prepped heavy—whiff.
‘Assumed limited-prod nests needed hands-on. Wrong? Or bigger fish? More than mage tower maid-hunting?’
Things smooth till his thought clogged gut—wanted gone ASAP.
Luck or skill: no-show till nest ash.
Per Aldrich’s soul-scan vigil: no new souls.
“Withdraw. Nest cleared anyway. Mages find nests hereafter? We prep like this first, dip clean.”
Rumble!
Professor crept silent lest mages spot, but wind mages fixated on blasting—missed party vanishing beyond rocks.
Tongue-click at mages zero multitasking: battle ignores surroundings. Looked like babysitting duty ahead.
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