Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Ancient City, Leorados (4) - New Magic
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1.
"What a shame."
I handed over the three silver emblems to the mercenary guild and turned to leave. The bald receptionist eyed me suspiciously for a moment before looking away.
"I'll have the silver emblem ready for you, so stop by the guild tomorrow before you go."
"Understood."
I stepped out onto the street and dropped by a random blacksmith to sell my sword and shield. They were all pretty much the same price anyway due to standardization. A few coppers' difference at most.
'Not bad.'
On the way, I swung by an alchemist to check the powder's identity as well.
"Sleeping powder."
"Sleeping powder?"
"Just what it sounds like. Helps you sleep. This amount would knock you out cold enough that someone could carry you off in the night without you noticing. Want to sell it?"
I sold the powder to the old man and headed back out.
'So they weren't good people after all.'
They had tight bonds, sure, but they weren't saints. Good mercenaries? Might as well trust a goblin.
I wandered the bustling commercial district, offloading unneeded junk and raking in a decent sum. But it still wasn't enough for the weapon I really wanted.
'Wish I could buy an engraved weapon.'
Those were way out of a mercenary's league price-wise. Still, stock being available in an ancient city like this was a small mercy.
'Guess that means back to the swamp.'
I returned to the inn, bathed, ate, and hit the bed.
⚔ STATUS UPDATE ⚔ 💨 Agility: 48 → 49 I pulled up my status window to check, and my level had gone up another one in the meantime. Experience points incomparable to goblins. Felt like my stalled growth had kicked back into gear.
'Killing Cork probably helped a lot.'
Current Gold: 35,827G But the real standout was my gold. Lizardmen had coughed up more than expected.
'Something worth spending on before heading back to the swamp.'
Train my body or grab a spell? Both were lacking.
Browsing the shop in my mind, one item caught my eye.
🛒 SHOP ITEM 🛒 Magic: Lightning Grants the ability to generate lightning. Power, range, and paralysis duration vary with mana input.
Price: 35,000G
A whopping 35,000G.
It'd wipe out every coin I had. Explanation didn't scream "worth it," but the key was paralysis.
'My battlefield's the swamp.'
Water everywhere. Lizardmen ambushed from below. Scales made them waterproof, but what if I zapped them before they surfaced?
Easy win. Even if they did come up, nothing lived through electrocution.
⚙ PURCHASE CONFIRMED ⚙ Magic: Lightning purchased. Figured it'd pay off long-term, so I bought the spell on the spot. Felt the pinch, but gold was just something to earn again.
'Perfect.'
Lizard hunting starts tomorrow.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "You're up early?"
I hit the mercenary guild at dawn, spotting drunks sprawled across the hall—mercs who'd partied till they dropped.
"You just gonna leave 'em like that?"
"Was about to clean up. Anyway, the emblem."
I handed over the wooden plaque. He took it, burned it in the fire, and pulled out a silver emblem.
"Congrats on the promotion."
"Thanks."
I stared at the emblem etched with my name.
Used to envy folks who had these. Now I'd ranked up in a single day. Never dreamed it'd be this fast.
"No party today?"
The bald guy's suspicious glare made me chuckle. Too blatant.
"I'm good. Planning to go solo from now on."
"Swamps are brutal. I can hook you up with a party—"
Probably wanted to send guild eyes. Explaining the misunderstanding sounded more hassle than it was worth, so I shook my head.
"Nah. I'm off."
I waved and left the guild. Following the road down led to the gates.
"Have a good one."
A quick nod to the gate guards, then off to the swamp.
Sun barely up, twilight haze everywhere. Not even in the swamp yet, but the fishy stench hit my nose.
'Lizardmen nocturnal? Diurnal?'
Silly thoughts as I walked. Soon, the ground turned squelchy underfoot. Swamp entrance.
Caaaaw!
Deeper in, weak sunlight blocked by trees, darkness deepened. Roars hit immediately, water splashing as three lizardmen burst out.
Brown scales, slit pupils. Smaller than the daytime ones, but wielding short spears instead of clubs.
'These might be more annoying.'
I thrust my arm toward the dispersing, tongue-flicking beasts. Best on emergence, but whatever.
Drew up mana, visualized. Blue lightning. Eyes snapped open, imagining the bolt—static sparked between fingers.
Zzzzt—!
Electrifying crackle, blue streak nailed a lizardman. It convulsed wildly. Others startled back.
I kicked off seeing its dazed eyes, sword rising in an uppercut. It raised its spear late—too late.
Slash!
Blade plunged groin-deep. Something sliced, lizardman crumpled.
Caaaaw!
The last one thrust its spear—sloppy. I crouched low, dodged, rammed my sword home.
Stab!
Skull-piercing. Twisted free, then beheaded the still-twitching one.
'Too easy?'
Just three, but solo clear mattered. Plus, lightning power tested.
'Mana drain's a bit heavy...'
Still, trading mana for no-fight wins? Fair trade.
Cut the lizardman mane, pocketed it, pressed deeper into the swamp.
Focusing senses, faint presence below a puddle. Wouldn't notice without trying.
'What if I zap before it comes up?'
Curiosity peaked mana—blasted the puddle.
Bubble bubble—
Instant reaction. Bubbles rose, lizardman body floated limp.
'Out cold?'
Prodded with sword—no reaction. Confirmed KO, slit throat with dagger.
'Jackpot.'
Mana-efficient, effortless. At this rate, theoretically a hundred a day.
'Water below only from now on.'
2.
"Who you waiting for?"
The bald receptionist turned at the mercenary's question.
"What're you on about?"
"Just checking. Guy who loves booze not touching a drop? Suspicious."
Guild handled business by day, turned bar by night—to bleed post-quest mercs.
Bald guy'd usually drink with them, handling desk fine. But tonight? Booze wouldn't go down.
"Got a girl?"
"No girl. Just a merc on my mind."
"A merc?"
He shook his head; the asker backed off.
"Uh, not into guys."
"Cut the crap. Go drink quietly."
"Sure sure."
As the man turned—
Bam!
Guild doors flew open. Noisy hall silenced. Eyes locked on the entrance—and one man.
"...He's here."
Bald guy's murmur drew a frown from the nearby merc.
"That prick? The one you were waiting for?"
"Yeah."
"Fuck. Why's he gotta barge in like that? Spilled my beer. Gonna make him pay for drinks and laundry."
Bald guy scowled as the man brushed off his clothes and yapped.
"No brawls in the guild."
"Sure sure."
Hanson crossed the hall's center amid the merc pack.
Ignored the glares. A few spat curses. Hated the confidence.
"Lizardman hunt?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
Hanson dug out lizardman manes. The pile was insane.
"What the hell?"
"That many?"
"Solo?"
All eyes saw it; guild erupted.
Bald guy counted each one.
"54. Quite the haul. Planning to wipe out the lizardmen?"
Half-joking praise, zero reaction from Hanson. Receptionist shrugged, fetched the bounty pouch—fat one.
Mercs gulped at the sight.
"Thanks."
The loudmouth merc met Hanson's eyes, looked away quick. Hanson sauntered out.
"Wasn't he footing drinks and laundry?"
Bald guy's tease shook the merc.
"Crazy? Pick a fight with a solo 54-kill freak? Just joking. But damn, guy's insane. How in one day?"
"Dunno."
"Poor bastard, though. Tomorrow's gonna suck."