Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: The Talking Lycanthrope
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“Me? Why me?”
Eugene furrowed his brow at Romari, who had her eyes wide open.
“Because there’s no one else who can purify mana stones. And you hate wandering around anyway, right? If you want, we can tour every corner of Brantia together.”
“When I think about it, purifying mana stones seems like truly rewarding work. Just leave it to me, and I’ll do my absolute best, Lord Eugene.”
Eugene nodded at Romari, who had now mastered top-tier attitude adjustment.
“Good choice. I’ve already talked to Marcus and the head of the merchant guild here, so you can start work tomorrow.”
“Got it. Um… but how much work are we talking about?”
“For now, about forty or fifty a day?”
“Ah, I see.”
Romari forced down her soaring elation and put on a serious expression.
“It’ll depend on the condition of the incoming stones, but about three in ten need to end up as high-grade mana stones.”
“Understood.”
Even at that rate, she could knock it out in half a day of solid work. Then the rest of the time…
‘Fi… finally, I’ll have guaranteed time for proper research and rest.’
Tears nearly welled up. They said the wise find heaven in diligence, and spring had finally come for her too…
“Probably in a month, the volume of mana stones will double or triple.”
“Pardon? Wh-why…?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We have to clear out the areas around Mongard first, don’t we? Especially the routes to territories with mana mines—we need to normalize them as fast as possible.”
Brantia was in worse shape than the Karsbargin Peninsula.
Even though the former marquis had been placed under house arrest, the powerful frontier noble house of Archibald was still intact, so the lords there hadn’t crossed any lines amid the chaos.
But Brantia, which hadn’t had a proper king for ages, was a total mess.
According to Marcus, there were already four self-proclaimed kings, and their vassal nobles fought nonstop.
With the higher-ups like that, the underlings were no better—former knights had turned bandit, and bandits were banding together to claim they were knight orders or lords.
This all-out chaos naturally restricted people’s movements.
Mongard had once traded briskly with six or seven houses that owned mana mines, but now only one was left.
“I’m planning to connect with the territories holding mana mines while heading to Duke Bartla’s house. Anyway, it’ll take a few months, so hang in there. Oh, you might get bored alone, so I’ll leave Selena here as your guard too.”
“Y-yes…”
Romari’s face fell instantly.
‘This sucks!’
But she couldn’t voice any complaints to Eugene, so her frustration shifted to an odd target.
‘If it weren’t for these pathetic local vampires, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Just you wait.’
A glint of malice shone in her deadened eyes, as she resolved to harass them relentlessly, lord or not.
“K-keeek!? A venomous aura’s bursting from the missus? N-no way, did she evolve into a dark sorceress?”
It startled even the spirit of desire that much.
* * *
Leaving Romari and Selena at Marcus’s mansion, Eugene departed Mongard with Galpredic, Ranslo, Luke, and the Partek crew.
“May the blessings of blood attend your great steps. Until we meet again, please keep your noble health.”
Even in broad daylight, Marcus had donned coat, hat, and mask for full coverage, following them to the gates to see Eugene off.
“Just so we’re clear: if you squander my wealth or harass the mage while I’m gone, you know what happens, right?”
“P-perish the thought, my lord. I treasure your wealth as my own blood. Besides, a mage of the Bloody Shadow school, heir to its true lineage, is a friend to our kin. And since you hired her yourself, I’ll prioritize her well-being over this wretch’s life.”
“And don’t bully my squire. I can overlook working him reasonably hard.”
“O-of course.”
As Galpredic grinned, Marcus nodded desperately.
Setting aside Origin Eugene, his retinue alone made eyes shrink back and fear well up on sight.
Even meeting the clan’s high lords hadn’t felt this intense, so Marcus was determined to protect Selena at all costs.
“Alright, I’m off. If ships come from Maren or Mopern, brush off questions about me and play it smart. If things go south with them for whatever reason? I’ll blame it all on you.”
“I’ll deploy every resource this lowly wretch has to fulfill your command. But, if I may be so bold…”
Gauging Eugene’s mood, Marcus continued with utmost deference.
“If you should encounter any of the Revoles Clan or Helmud Clan… please… consider their… situation…”
“I’ll handle it. And if that Helmud Clan or whatever starts trouble, feel free to throw me under the bus. I’ve told Romari, so get help from her.”
“Such boundless grace from our great lord—this wretch knows not where to lay his head!”
Feeling the boulder on his chest lift away, Marcus dropped to one knee.
Vampires rarely left their settled territories once established, so the odds of a Helmud lord or banneret showing up here were slim.
But if it somehow happened, a Pilgrim Shadow school mage vouching for Eugene’s existence would keep the blame off him.
‘I… I’m safe.’
Marcus, who’d only ever begged to be killed whenever he opened his mouth, actually wanted to live out his full lifespan in comfort—and now, he’d found peace of mind.
Of course, that mental peace would be shredded to bits in under a month, thanks to the exhausted mage’s frustrations with endless menial labor.
* * *
Boom!
A mace crushed a man’s skull, sending him crumpling backward. More screams rang out briefly, and the noisy forest path fell silent again.
“Why are there so many lunatics around here?”
Galpredic shook blood and brains from his mace and smacked his lips. Ranslo, wiping gore from his sword, replied.
“Our horses and gear alone would fetch hundreds of thousands of selling on the black market. Beats raiding a whole village by several times—worth the gamble.”
“Even so, with three fully armored knights? And they call themselves knight-grade here?”
Ranslo gave a wry smile, gesturing to Luke and the Partek team in their chain mail and plate coats.
“Thirty-plus bandits or mercenaries are enough for any lord to roll out the welcome mat. They never imagined it’d end like this.”
“That’s why they’re lunatics. What did they think they’d do with that junk?”
The bandits who’d ambushed them—and been wiped out—wore shabby leather armor, with rusty spears, swords, and wooden shields.
They weren’t the only ones.
Over four days of travel, Eugene’s group had repelled three ambushes, all from 30-50 stragglers or mixed-race bandit packs with garbage weapons and armor.
Stuff novice mercenaries on the continent might use—unsellable trash that here passed for veteran gear.
Not a single crossbow in sight, and only one guy in chain mail.
He’d been the sole self-proclaimed “knight.”
“Do Brantian knights and mercenaries not know plate armor well?”
Eugene asked as he handed his weapon to Luke for cleaning. Ranslo nodded.
“Spot on. Plate is rare as hell here. Few knights even fight in it, so hardly anyone knows its defensive power or how to counter it.”
“So ignorance equals courage.”
“Hah. Pretty much.”
Ranslo spoke true.
Continental nations had advanced metalworking and armor smithing, with solid techniques widespread.
Thus, those who lived by the sword—knights especially—knew plate’s prowess and basic counters.
But Brantia’s tech sucked, few had even seen plate up close, so even knights were clueless.
Here, plate mail was still top-tier armor.
During the Prayer Book Wars, they’d fought over looted plate and chain mail.
“Lord Eugene.”
“Yeah. Same as before?”
Partek scratched his head after rifling through the corpses with Glad and Raban.
“Yes. Nothing worthwhile—just a few dozen local silver and coppers. Absolute beggars.”
“We’ve cleared plenty over these four days, so this stretch should be safe now. Good enough.”
No loot was disappointing, but the primary goal was securing safe passage, so Eugene let it go.
“Master, how about resting in a village tonight? The blood stench is getting to me.”
A vampire griping about blood smell.
But Eugene, post-awakening, had stuck to mid-tier-or-better monster blood—and even human blood selectively—so he agreed with Galpredic.
“Sure. Luke, nearest village.”
“Yes, Master!”
Luke, now adept at maps, checked Marcus’s provided one and took point confidently.
“Lord, leave the bodies?”
Partek asked. Eugene nodded.
“Yeah. The roaming roamers will handle it.”
Ten minutes later.
Kikikik!
Keh! Kekekeh!
At the spot where the seven riders had left, roamers who’d lurked in the woods dragged off the dead bandits.
Their numbers would shock Eugene, who’d dismissed low-tier monsters as irrelevant.
Unbeknownst to him, his four-day bandit purge had sparked a “great migration” of local roamers.
* * *
“Welcome… hic!”
The boy froze mid-greeting with a hiccup.
Three knights in full plate, the rest in serious gear—not your average sight.
Not just the boy—the grubby pub’s patrons (barn or warehouse?) gawked at the newcomers.
“Steel men walking?”
“That human?”
“Ain’t heavy? Super strong?”
Their whispers reached Eugene’s ears clear as day.
Classic reaction from ignorant poor folk.
“Food and drink coming right up. Rooms for bathing too.”
Ranslo returned from ordering, glancing around with a smirk.
“Get used to it. Even in Mongard cities it was like this—same everywhere in Brantia.”
“Fine by me. Hope that’s the end of it.”
“Agreed. Greed makes fools of men.”
Ranslo noted the greed in some patrons’ eyes and smiled wryly.
Soon food and drink arrived; the non-vampires—Eugene and Galpredic aside—filled up.
As they bathed and maintained gear in their rooms, sudden uproar outside.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
“Monsters! Monsters attacking!”
Aaahhh!
Urgent bells and panicked screams blended. Eugene’s group armed up and rushed out.
Villagers bolted indoors, barring doors, as twenty militia in junk weapons lined up at the palisade gate.
“K-knights, sirs! Help us! Protect us—we’ll pay 6,000 selling!”
“Knights, show your chivalry!”
The chief and militia head begged Eugene.
6,000 selling was just 60 Keiler silvers—pocket change now.
But a fortune to these villagers, no doubt.
Eugene addressed the trembling pair in Brantian.
“Monster type? Numbers?”
“W-weird wolf-handlers! Over fifty heads, maybe!”
“Wolves?”
Eugene tilted his head. He’d fought black wolves before.
Wolves packed up in tens, rarely over ten—fifteen, sixteen tops. Fifty-plus? Off.
Awooooo!
A chilling howl echoed long.
“Kieeek!? Master, not normal wolves! Th-this is lycanthrope!”
“Undine’s right. Lycanthropes herding wolves fits.”
At Mirian and Ranslo’s words, Eugene drew his sword.
“Time to earn your keep.”
The wolf-shredding blade gleamed silver-gray.
Moments later, ash-maned wolf-monsters vaulted the palisade.
“Kraha! First lycanthropes—expecting big things! You shit-puppy bastards!”
Galpredic bellowed, swinging his longsword to charge—
Then the unbelievable happened.
“Grrrng! Who’re you calling shit-puppy! Children of darkness!”
“…!?”
The lead wolf-monster spoke!
(To be continued)
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