Chapter 824: Salamander
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 824: Salamander
Was it similar to an evil spirit?
In this world, "evil spirit" was a general term for entities immune to cold iron—creatures that bypassed physical defenses to tear at a human’s soul or attempt possession.
‘As long as we watch out for the fire it breathes.’
Most of the squad members shared the same thought. These were men who spent their lives hunting monsters in the mountains. To them, this was just another day at the office. While they hadn't written a formal manual on the subject, they had developed the sharp intuition required to read a threat at a glance.
Usually, the attack patterns of such creatures followed a predictable rhythm.
"Hey, clench your teeth. If you stumble even once, it’s three rounds of Captain Rem’s mental conditioning training."
One of the squad members muttered the warning. At those words, the entire unit tensed instantly. Jaw muscles tightened, teeth locked hard, and thick veins bulged on the backs of their hands.
Rem’s "mental conditioning training" consisted of being beaten to the absolute brink of consciousness.
They said a true warrior is one who knows how to fight when pushed to their absolute limit, right? It was easy to say "the brink of consciousness," but anyone who had experienced it even once would shudder in horror.
Rem was a bastard with overwhelmingly superior skills and an unmatched eye for detail; he wouldn't even let them pass out when they wanted to. The memory of what he would say when they were about to collapse—while drawing a red line across their necks with the edge of his axe—was still vivid in their minds.
"Should I just kill you? If you fall there, you die."
They knew better than anyone that Captain Rem was fully capable of following through on that threat. If anyone asked how they knew... it was impossible not to believe him when he used the flat of his blade to force them back up. If they stayed down, their heads would literally be lopped off.
"I’m helping you up. Isn't this wonderfully kind treatment? Huh?" he would say.
How could they not brace themselves? Not a single member of this squad had escaped that hellish training. After all, surviving it was the bare minimum requirement to join Rem’s personal guard.
While they were steeling their resolve, the monster made of living flame slammed its forepaw into a tree.
Crash!
The living wood exploded, sending splinters flying like shrapnel. Wooden shards embedded themselves in the dirt with a sharp patter, and a tree too thick for a grown man to embrace shuddered violently.
"...This is a bit unfair," the commander muttered.
If its body let cold iron pass right through, it should at least be consistent. How could a single swipe of its paw tilt a massive log like that? If the strike had been any cleaner, the tree would have snapped like a twig. In terms of sheer physical power, this monster was no weaker than a giant.
But they weren't about to take it lying down.
Rem was a harsh captain, but surviving his regime brought rewards—both in combat strength and tangible compensation. For instance: magic weapons.
Dwarves were the mages of iron, capable of crafting the prototypes for magic weapons. One such highly skilled dwarf was currently dedicating his services to the Border Guard. Furthermore, the unit boasted a witch and a magic squad she had personally trained. They were more than capable of inscribing spells onto the iron forged by the dwarf.
That was why all twenty of them possessed what were known as Spell Weapons.
Strictly speaking, creating such armaments required a specialized enchanter, but Esther was a genius. She could master any field of magic she touched.
Their weapons didn't summon gales or rain down fire with a single swing. The effect was simpler, yet vital: they could cut and strike formless evil spirits.
The men drew axes imbued with a faint blue light. Though the handle lengths varied, the radiance emanating from the blades was identical.
"Shouldn't that be enough?" Rem said, watching them.
Naturally, it was more than enough. The flame monster only breathed fire about the length of a forearm. Though the power behind its swipes was extraordinary...
‘Still better than a bear.’
A ferocious wild bear or a demonic beast would actually be more dangerous. Without a weapon to cut through its form, the flame monster would be a nightmare; with one, it was just another target.
Two men drew its attention while three circled to the rear. The rest formed a loose perimeter.
The hunt began. When one of them slammed his axe into the lunging creature’s limb, a burst of flames erupted with a loud pop. The squad member immediately leaped backward, dodging the flare.
"Hey, if your hair gets singed off, your already ugly face is going to look twice as terrifying!"
"Look who's talking!"
Jokes were exchanged freely. They weren't the type to freeze up or fight stiffly just because the stakes were high. The man whose face was at risk had long, well-kept hair but pockmarked skin, while the one joking was completely bald. As the bald man pointed to his own shiny head, several nearby squad members snickered.
The hunt didn't last long. They systematically beat down the flame demonic beast. After six coordinated axe strikes, the creature’s body split apart, scattered into embers, and vanished.
"First time seeing something like this?"
"Yeah. No matter how much of a treasure trove the mountains are, this is a bit much."
The Pen-Hanil Mountains were a place where monsters and demonic beasts emerged endlessly, but this was unusual. They immediately set off to report the encounter.
They weren't the only ones in the mountains. A detachment of the Border Guard Standing Army was also carrying out a request received through Nurat, Krais’s lover. The Soldier Mercenary System remained an excellent way to earn Krona, and Krais actively encouraged it.
They, too, encountered a similar opponent—this time, a long-necked monster composed of swirling fireballs.
"Who has a magic weapon?"
While Vengeance served as the Security Captain, the leader of the scout unit patrolling the mountains was Finn. She had once scouted alongside Encrid, and through relentless training, she had risen to become the captain of the rangers.
At her question, four soldiers with wrist-mounted crossbows stepped forward. Their bolts were imbued with single-use spells. This was Anne’s handiwork; the arrowheads, dipped in a special solution, were designed specifically for exorcising spirit-type monsters.
"Fire."
Thud-thud-pop.
The fiery bodies exploded, scattering sparks in all directions.
‘Impressive.’
Finn couldn't recall ever seeing a monster like this. Maintaining her distance, she subdued the creature using only ranged attacks. The last one standing melted away after five throwing daggers pierced its head, leaving nothing but scorched marks on the grass.
"We’ll start a forest fire if we're not careful. Put out the embers."
At Finn’s command, the squad members stamped out the remaining sparks and splashed water, clearing away flammable debris. As mountain rangers, they were well-practiced in fire prevention. Once the area was secure, Finn spoke.
"We can't go any deeper."
"I wouldn't ask you to," the client replied, shaking his head. Looking thoroughly exhausted, he asked, "Didn't they say the monster population in the mountains had decreased lately?"
"They did."
"They did?"
"It seems that's no longer the case."
It wasn't something Finn could explain.
The client, however, was a man of broad knowledge. He knew that the monsters they had just fought were exceptionally troublesome. His name was Garret Gairo, a former battalion commander of the Greenpearl Reserve who dreamed of becoming a bard. Having recently hit a wall with his creative talents, he had taken this risk in hopes of finding inspiration.
"Going into a monster-infested mountain range just to write a song?"
An outsider might mock him, but who could truly understand the agony of an artist? If it meant composing a masterpiece, they would gladly sell a piece of their soul. Of course, Garret trusted the Border Guard; he wasn't actually suicidal. He was merely seeking a moderate amount of inspiration through a moderate amount of danger.
In any case, Garret’s profession involved wandering the continent, and he was a man deeply captivated by lore.
"A fire-breathing monster," Garret muttered, lost in thought.
There was once a monster that had set the continent ablaze—a disaster summoned by the Demon Realm Holy Land Cult, the worst natural calamity ever brought about by human hands.
Garret whispered the name to himself.
"A Salamander?"
It was the name of a lizard monster made of pure flame. A beast over ten times the size of a human, immune to most magic weapons. Back then, the only strategy was to endure until the creature exhausted its energy and vanished. Garret only knew what he had heard in oral folklore or read in history books.
The bastards of the Demon Realm Holy Land Cult had been a massive headache back then as well. Since a bard’s role was to preserve stories, digging into ancient records was both Garret’s hobby and his specialty. He believed he had just seen its traces in the dead monster.
No way. Surely not.
But could he just dismiss it? Complacency was a fatal trait for a soldier. And though Garret was now a bard, he was still a soldier at heart. He knew how to choose a difficult truth over a comfortable lie.
"...Can we go in a bit further?" Garret asked.
Finn seriously contemplated whether she should break the legs of this former battalion commander. He seemed to be suffering from a severe case of "delusional artist syndrome." Perhaps only physical pain would make him realize his mistake.
"It’s not about inspiration anymore. I just have a very bad feeling."
Garret was dead serious. Instead of kicking his ankle, Finn gave orders to two of her soldiers.
"Return to the unit and report the situation."
If things turned dangerous, Finn knew she could secure an escape route. She knew these mountains like her own backyard—though if she actually treated them like a backyard and let her guard down, she’d end up as monster dung.
‘I can go a bit further.’
Finn knew her limits. She didn't harbor grand dreams of becoming a knight. Instead, she had found her purpose here. Utilizing her specialty, she had memorized the terrain and mastered the skills of the mountain folk, following the former Saintess, Seiki.
That was what made her the leader of the Pen-Hanil Rangers. Her decision to proceed was a calculated judgment backed by years of experience.
"Your reasoning?" she asked bluntly. Only an idiot would walk into a trap without cause.
Garret answered without taking offense. "I hope it’s just needless anxiety, but do you know where the Salamander was last seen before it vanished?"
Before Greenpearl was called Greenpearl, a massive fire had swept through the land, burning everything to ash. The grassland where new life eventually grew over that scorched earth became Greenpearl. In the history books, it was known as the Ash Field.
"There are many hypotheses, but everyone agrees on where it disappeared. Some scholars even speculate that the creature is merely sleeping, like a hibernating bear."
The place pointed to by all records was the peak of the Pen-Hanil Mountains—a basin filled with rocks formed from hardened black and gray ash. It was a desolate place where only drakes were known to live.
Finn listened to the explanation and nodded. "I understand."
He had a suspicion and needed to confirm it. They set off. They had entered at sunrise; it was now mid-morning. Less than three hours later, Finn stopped.
She had discovered traces of something tearing up the ground with a massive, thick blade. The gouges were too deep to estimate by eye, and the length of the tracks matched that of a massive fallen tree.
The air was thick with the smell of burning, and the temperature had become sweltering.
"That is a trace no ordinary monster could ever leave," Garret said, his voice grim.
The casualties from the Salamander’s last appearance were beyond counting. Entire cities had been reduced to cinders.
And then...
"Captain."
A squad member with sharp eyes pointed toward the ridge.
‘There are more.’
Monsters made of living flame. In the distance, three of them raised their heads, radiating shimmering heat. They were larger than the others—roughly the size of an average bear. Because of the distance, they hadn't detected Finn’s group yet.
"We’re heading back."
Finn avoided the engagement and retreated to the unit. The report was immediately relayed directly to Encrid.
Encrid’s blue eyes flashed with a cold light. "Battalion Commander Garret?"
"I think it’s more appropriate to just call me Garret now, Sir Encrid."
"What did you say appeared?"
"Nothing is certain. But the signs point to a Salamander."
The explanation was delivered in a condensed, urgent form. Encrid’s eyes gleamed.
"Just stay here. Tell anyone who comes looking for me that I went ahead."
"...Hm? Tell who? Me?" Garret was taken aback.
"To everyone who comes by."
Encrid roughly wiped away his sweat, strapped on his gear, and immediately set off.
"Where are you going?" Garret called out, his old military tone slipping out in his fluster.
"Just taking a walk."
Seeing him march out fully armed, it was clear he was charging straight toward the source of the heat.
"Captain, they said flame monsters are appearing all over the range," Finn said, catching up to him. It was news she had gathered on her way back. Apparently, Rem’s Assault Squad had encountered them, and some had even descended toward the outposts near the Safe Road.
"Go find Krais and tell him."
Encrid didn't seem concerned, for two reasons.
First, he had faith in his people. He was the one who had trained them; they were more than capable of handling monsters of that caliber.
Second, he knew what Krais had done in his preparation. Currently, it was rare to find a commander or a member of the special branches in the Border Guard who didn't possess a magic weapon. At the very least, they carried enchanted scrolls.
There was no way his men would fall to mere lumps of fire.