Chapter 17
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 017
Chapter Title: Karma
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Holy Knight Raymond began to walk.
Deep in thought, his footsteps were as leisurely as a lazy donkey's plod—slow enough to turn a viewer's stomach.
Raymond was mulling over the two people he'd just met.
'Beast Hunter Jin, mage Claire.'
Both possessed abilities so outstanding it was hard to fathom why they'd stoop to mercenary work.
Talented mages exude an otherworldly sharpness in their eyes alone. The woman called Claire was no exception. Though he hadn't seen her cast a spell, her aura alone hinted at her exceptional intellect.
But the man left an even deeper impression.
Jin. The hunter commonly known among mercenaries as Skull Crusher. Raymond had assumed the rumors swirling around him were just the usual mercenary bluster and exaggeration...
'...He was no ordinary guy.'
The moment their eyes met, a chill raced down his spine.
It was such a fleeting sensation he wondered if it was his imagination. Flustered, Raymond kept probing to gauge the man's level, but after that initial jolt, he felt nothing more.
It meant Woojin was a beast who knew how to sheath his claws. Skill beyond belief for such a young man. And on top of that, the ability to tame wolf beasts...
"...Talk about a stark contrast."
Raymond muttered to himself, lifting his head to look ahead. The massive tent draped over Tarasque's back came into view.
He'd deliberately taken his time getting here... but he'd arrived all the same.
Swallowing a sigh that threatened to escape, Raymond stepped into the tent.
Immediately, the Holy Knight was assaulted by all manner of displeasures. A fishy stench stinging his nose, dull eyes devoid of spark. And a woman's guttural moans. It all stemmed from the two men before him.
"Raymond... where've you been?"
Golden Beetle's eldest son, Derek, spoke up. His frame was gaunt, like someone who'd starved for days, and his golden hair was a tangled mess, as if he'd been yanking at it whenever he could.
Raymond recited the excuse he'd prepared in advance.
"I scouted the area. Nothing noteworthy."
"Ah... I see. Good work."
"Urgh—"
The moans kept interrupting their conversation. In the corner, Golden Beetle's second son, Cedric, was ravaging a prostitute like she was prey.
Raymond did his best to ignore the noise and pressed on.
"At this pace, we'll reach the Third Pioneer City in another ten days. We'll resupply there before heading to the barrier."
"...Ten days?"
Derek glared at the Holy Knight with bloodshot eyes.
"Can't you shave off more time?"
"Not with our current setup."
"Not with—?! What kind of bullshit is that?!"
Suddenly, Derek bellowed and hurled his wine glass. Shards of shattered crystal flew everywhere, along with splashes of red wine.
"I told you to hurry the fuck up! What am I supposed to do now...? We're two days behind schedule!!"
Derek roared, tearing at his hair. With frantic gestures, he smashed nearby objects one by one.
In truth, the delay was inevitable. Derek had over-hired mercenaries, bloating their numbers beyond plan, which naturally slowed their progress.
But in moments like this, Raymond knew exactly what to say.
"My apologies."
"Fuck! Do you know how much money we've shoveled to your church, and you can't even handle this?!"
"Ah, aaah..."
Even amid the chaos, Cedric kept thrusting away in silence. The prostitute's ceaseless moans mingled with Derek's wild curses as he bucked like a colt. It was pandemonium.
'...Goddess.'
Raymond closed his eyes. He could only pray this nightmare passed quickly.
The days dragged on unchanged.
Walk endlessly by day, pitch tents at dusk to brace for night. Not much else to do.
But a small change came for Woojin.
Shaaa—
Sky-blue particles shimmered in his palm. A cool energy followed, seeping into the glass bottle. White frost crystals spread slowly across its surface.
"...That's enough now."
Claire, standing beside him, spoke up.
Woojin withdrew his hand accordingly. Claire inspected the bottle like a tester, then uncorked it with an opener.
Pop!
The cork flew out with a satisfying sound. Tilting the bottle into a cup, slushy apple juice poured forth.
Claire flashed a grin. For a mage, this was a birthday-worthy moment.
"Congratulations. You've mastered your first spell."
"Thanks to you."
Woojin replied, raising his hand. Reading his intent, Claire lifted hers too.
Smack!
High five.
They toasted with the chilled apple juice. With that, Woojin had learned Cool Touch, a first-circle ice spell. His first magic ever—it hit different.
But before he could fully savor the triumph, a nagging headache struck. Like needles pricking his brain.
'What's this? Too much cold stuff?'
No, his head throbbed harder than that. As Woojin furrowed his brow, Claire noticed.
"Headache right now?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"Spell overload symptoms."
Spell overload.
Just as the name implied: overusing spells overloaded the brain. Like muscle soreness after a workout.
"Think we should wrap up magic lessons for today. Best to rest and recover."
"Really?"
Woojin looked up at the sky. Cumulus clouds dyed crimson by sunset. The cloud cover had thinned noticeably as they neared the barrier.
Still, bedtime felt too early. Wasting it seemed a shame.
"Just the head needs rest, right?"
"What're you planning?"
"Kill time with some exercise."
Claire tilted her head slightly.
"Er... exercise doesn't tax the brain, so maybe? Never thought of it that way."
"Worth a shot, no?"
"Most mages hate physical stuff. Uncommon idea."
Then let's test it.
Woojin stretched and started bodyweight training. Left hand tucked behind his back like it was tied, he did one-arm push-ups with his right.
His body obeyed perfectly. His head ached a little, but since it was just his brain, the workout felt fine.
Claire watched from the side. His mechanical precision and speed were impressive, even to a workout novice.
"To last even a minute against Jin, you'd need to be at least a second-class mercenary."
Claire murmured to herself. Curious, Woojin asked,
"What rank were the guys who picked fights with me?"
"Mostly third-class. But that's a rank anyone can hit with enough experience—doesn't mean much."
Anyone could reach third-class. But second-class and up demanded real power and fame.
Woojin had one such figure nearby.
"Jonathan's second-class, right?"
"Yeah. Most mercenary leaders are second-class. First-class types rarely venture outside the barrier."
"Why?"
Shouldn't the strongest prowl the frontiers more?
Claire answered simply.
"Can't even eat properly out here. At first-class level, don't you wanna live it up?"
"...Fair point."
Woojin realized he was heading to the barrier for the easy life himself. No room to judge.
He kept exercising, chatting idly. Claire joined in casually. Time flew.
Then Claire blinked, puzzled.
"...Jin. You aren't tired?"
"Why?"
"You've been going over an hour."
Woojin had powered through nonstop. Plus nonstop chatter should've drained extra stamina.
Yet... Claire narrowed her eyes, scanning his face.
"Something on my face?"
"Sweat..."
Woojin touched his face. Nothing.
"Nada."
"Exactly. Intense workout that long... not a drop?"
No sweat, no heavy breathing. Strength and stamina beyond human norms.
Mana enhancement could've done it. But Woojin didn't know those tricks, and overload meant zero mana use.
Utterly baffling by Claire's logic. Woojin answered without overthinking.
"Hunting tons of beasts. Their blood, meat, cores—they boost your body."
"You ate them?!"
Claire recoiled in horror. Her reaction puzzled Woojin.
"Uh... why not?"
"Of course not! Monster cores are poison!"
Claire raised her voice, uncharacteristically.
Thinking back, the Demonic Realm Chronicles had warned cores were risky. Woojin hadn't bought it then, skimmed over.
"...Care to explain?"
Woojin asked cautiously. Claire steadied herself and did.
The gist:
Karma, or karma in another tongue.
The dark, murky energy unique to the Demonic Realm. Lifeforms absorbing it gained new bodies and bizarre powers.
Monster cores evolved from that process. Killing and consuming one let you inherit some of the beast's strength and abilities.
Hence the name: karma, cycling endlessly in the eat-or-be-eaten chain.
"Folks used to argue eating cores was fine."
Easy power boost. Overall physical upgrade, plus inhuman talents.
But controlling karma? Foolish. Demonic energy was savage, turbid. Core-eaters eventually succumbed, losing their humanity.
"They become raving lunatics, wandering the Demonic Realm forever. We call them 'wraiths.'"
More cores, higher risk.
"How many have you eaten?"
Claire stared straight at him.
How to answer?
Delaying felt risky—better come clean.
"Sounds weird, but..."
"Go on."
"...Deep inside, food's scarce. Ran out often, so for years, I lived off hunted beasts."
Hunting and eating them was just daily meals.
Claire blinked at his confession. The sheer scale short-circuited her mind.
Lowball it: hundreds of beasts. That meant inhuman karma buildup.
Could snap any second.
Yet he seemed utterly serene. Like a starving predator hunting game—pure routine.
"...Fiend."
Claire muttered, entranced. Woojin cocked his head.
"What'd you say?"
"Oh, nothing."
She brushed it off, unwilling to voice her wild guess.