Chapter 132
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Parting Sinews and Snapping Bones
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There was a saying: parting sinews and snapping bones.
Literally, it meant a horrific torture method that separated flesh from bone.
Anyone subjected to it—man or woman, young or old, tough or tender—would scream in agony and beg for death instead.
As a kid, Jin had been awfully curious about it.
How much pain and suffering could make someone spill all their secrets without hesitation?
And maybe that's why.
When his peers thrust out straight fingers at him in mock sword strikes,
or unleashed clumsy low, mid, or high kicks while tearfully shouting about enduring steel bars without flinching,
he'd calmly grab their wrist alone—
Right now, I'm channeling my inner energy into you. It's twisting your meridians, making your muscles and bones move wildly, inflicting unimaginable torment.
So go ahead and scream.
—and try out that rather forced setup.
Of course, his clueless friends, oblivious to such profound flavors, would retort that it was nonsense and, since he'd grabbed their wrist anyway, to at least make some electricity flow through it.
They shamelessly turned the tables on the would-be honorable martial artist.
Anyway.
Over a dozen years later, today,
Jin finally succeeded at parting sinews and snapping bones.
Of course, it was a slightly modified version.
This time, instead of inner energy, he'd used flames blazing with holy light and divine fire.
And the parting of sinews and snapping of bones had been done stitch by meticulous stitch,
all by hand.
No need to dwell on the process itself—time passed, leaving only the result.
A vampire who had met its end, gripped by extreme pain and terror. That was it.
Before dying, it confessed everything. And who was this guy?
Tsk. Hang on.
What was his name again?
Erlikos? Elroks?
Hmm. Uh.
Anyway, let's skip the name.
No need to remember it.
Back to the point.
So, Elixir—or whatever. Who was this bastard?
One of the Ninth Apostle's close aides, that's who.
And the Ninth Apostle? Obviously, the one-eyed vampire that had shown up at the grand cathedral to steal the relic.
But hold on...
Wasn't the wooden guy from that day the Sixth Apostle?
They flock together, and their numbers are suspiciously neat.
No way they planned it like that?!
Somehow, his focus had sharpened, only for Jin's mind to veer off on a tangent as usual.
If anyone could peek into his thoughts, they'd slap their forehead and mutter about kicking cans or something.
At that moment, drenched in the blood of the wicked, standing alone amid the chaos, Jin exuded an aura that kept everyone at bay.
It wasn't exaggeration—something was actually blazing fiercely around him.
A sacred blaze and radiance that could steal one's soul just by gazing upon it.
Gulp.
In the tense silence, broken only by someone swallowing hard somewhere,
Jin snapped out of his brief distraction. The intel he'd painstakingly extracted from the vampire was this:
The dead vampire was a direct familiar infected by an Apostle himself—a so-called Noble.
Noble.
True to the name, it meant aristocrat.
A quick detour here.
To understand why it was called a Noble, one had to revisit the most fundamental tenet of vampire society.
Simply put: Who bit you?
Think about it.
'Lord-class' vampires were the first generation directly turned by Zanedin, the original blood progenitor once called the King of Blood.
A familiar turned by such a Lord-class Apostle?
That meant just two ladders up from them led straight to Zanedin himself—holy blood of the holiest.
So yeah, the dead vampire was undeniably worthy of the 'noble' title.
Then why was a guy like that squatting in the ruins with his underlings?
'Gaaah, stop, I don't, I don't know much, aaagh, agh, gaaack, I'll, I'll tell you, the master said, this area's, an old holy site of the gods, investigate it, gaaah, that's, all, craaagh!'
His confession boiled down to: the Apostle had ordered it.
Seemed the Apostle knew the local history, like some pilgrim.
And so,
while combing every inch of the ruins vicinity on orders,
they ran into hot-blooded warriors from the village out for revenge against the black mages.
Subdued them in turn,
extracted the village location through soul-shattering torture, and came calling like this.
Realizing their goal was just casual murder for boredom's sake, Jin crushed the writhing vampire's heart with his bare hand, wrapping up the incident.
And that brought them to now.
"...B-Brother?"
Jin turned at the trembling voice.
Leron had approached at some point, with the tribe's warriors lined up behind him.
"Oh. You called?"
He snapped back to reality and asked in return.
A droplet of blood trailed down his cheek, glistening at his chin, not yet dry.
Leron cautiously inquired,
"A-Any injuries?"
"Nah. It was a vampire, after all."
"...?"
Leron's head tilted in momentary cognitive dissonance,
as Jin turned away.
Including the dead vampire,
over ten black mages littered the ground.
Blood was splattered messily everywhere.
Pure blood was surely among it.
A power like deadly poison.
Leaving it be could lead to who-knows-what.
Whoosh.
Flames rose from Jin's body, spreading in gentle concentric circles from his feet.
"Whoa."
Leron and the warriors flinched in surprise, but that was all.
The flames, warm and soft, passed harmlessly through them before clinging to the black mages' bodies and roaring to life.
Sizzle!
One patch of blood spewed especially thick smoke.
The pool encircling the dead vampire's body.
Not just burning off—it bubbled grotesquely, reeking horribly.
Jin vaguely recalled red blood cells with mouths torn to their ears.
Was that sharp noise just now their screams?
That'd be nice.
Pushing the small wish aside, he glanced back at Leron, whose face had grown profoundly complicated.
Like he didn't know how, where, or what to say first.
But the deliberation didn't last. Their eyes met, and Leron slowly parted his lips.
"Thank you."
He bowed deeply, and the warriors behind him followed suit.
A gesture needing no translation.
Respect and gratitude.
Reading the sentiment in their demeanor, Jin scratched his nape awkwardly.
If they'd just thumbs-upped him, he'd have been fine.
But he was weak to this formal praise.
Ahem. Ahem.
He cleared his throat needlessly and looked up at the sky.
The myriad twinkles etched in his eyes suddenly resembled an inner galaxy, he thought.
His lips naturally curved into a smile.
It wasn't a bad feeling at all.
The group had originally planned to leave the next day.
But after the black mages' ambush, that wasn't feasible.
Who knew if the lurking forces would frown at 'Why haven't these bastards shown up?' and launch a second wave.
So one day, two, three...
Before he knew it, Jin realized they'd spent nearly a week there.
Hold up.
I didn't plan to stay this long?
Thus, he subtly turned to gaze at distant Bagmar.
Not naturally—how could he not look with all that racket?
"Hey, did you secure that anchor bolt properly?"
"Check the welds. One crack, and it won't hold the load later."
"Angle's off. Rebalance it."
"What're you planning to use that rebar for? It's for reinforcement. Put it back."
The villagers moved in perfect sync to the dwarf's nonstop commands.
Even accounting for Leron and Ube translating, it was astonishing.
The Paltok Tribe.
These outland natives had scavenged city trash dumped into the wasteland decades ago to build their home.
To outsiders, the village looked hideous, but to them, it was a history forged in blood and sweat—a cultural relic.
Of course, strangers couldn't just boss them around.
But Bagmar was the exception.
"Come on! Move it!"
All because the idle-handed dwarf casually fixed every eyesore he spotted.
Kids running around there? Too flimsy. Step aside.
Clink clink.
What's that cracking? Just me hearing it?
Clink clink.
Leaking water? Tsk. Where?
Clink clink.
Inspired by his mystical handiwork, more and more joined in.
Before long, villagers rolled up their sleeves to work alongside Bagmar.
Days into repairing the most urgent spots one by one,
"Mm. Good. Much better."
Bagmar finally wiped under his nose in satisfaction.
"Hm? Wait. Hey. Humans, back off. What're you—!"
Suddenly, villagers hoisted him up in a cheer.
"Waaah!"
Jin watched the flying dwarf impassively before speaking.
"...Chemji, Chemji. Guess we can really go now."
"Yes. Seems more than enough."
Chemji nodded beside him, then added,
"Oh, speaking of which. Dialect decryption's done. Shall I send the data to your terminal? You can overlay it on a translation app if—"
"...No need."
Jin stared at Chemji in exasperation.
And thought: She's not normal either.
The next day.
The entire village turned out to see off the departing group.
"Verenar!" "Verenar!"
Chanting the now-familiar word for 'benefactor.'
Benefactor my ass.
As Jin hurried away with a shiver,
=Wait!=
Leron dashed up, telepathy conveying his urgency as he tapped Jin's turned shoulder.
"Take care, brother."
"You too, big bro. Stay healthy—extra healthy. Eat lots of good stuff."
Their gripped hands stacked palms atop one another.
A hearty, layered handshake.
Jin finally smiled faintly.
"I'll visit sometimes—uh, sometimes might be tough. Occasionally... tsk, that's hard too. Hmm. If fate wills it, we'll meet again."
Leron chuckled and patted the back of Jin's hand with his palm.
"Sure. If fate wills it."
That was it.
Jin walked away light-hearted, as always.
First through the stone wall, followed by Chemji pulling the iron cart and Bagmar's sidecar glancing back.
Rumble.
Ripples spread as the sidecar emerged; the stone wall instantly regained its solid texture.
Shamanism, huh.
Leron had said it was an ancient power these natives wielded.
Like magic, yet different. The ambushing warriors hiding underground? Thanks to shamanism, probably.
What a complicated world.
Master one thing, and two more pop up to learn.
With that thought, Jin turned and said,
"Regretting it?"
"A bit."
Bagmar admitted readily. Jin shrugged.
"Stay if you want. Your call."
"Not that much. Just... wondering if I should've done more."
"You did plenty."
Bagmar turned away.
"Did I?"
"Obviously. Who do you think stayed a week for?"
"Hmph. Fair enough."
That explains why they were so thrilled.
The dwarf muttered softly, then grinned.
"Alright. Heading out. Keep up, quick-like."
His burden lifted, the sidecar revved up with a roar.
Confirming it speeding to the horizon, Jin shook his head amusedly when Chemji called,
"Something to report."
"Yeah, yeah. Out with it."
"From the dead vampire's words, the ruins they were investigating match our destination with high probability."
Jin scratched his cheek.
"Honestly, figured as much. So, what now? Turn back?"
The pilgrimage was to visit the old holy site, after all.
If everything there had crumbled to dust eons ago, no point pressing on.
A bust, basically.
But Chemji was firm.
More precisely, the pilgrim was.
"She says we'll check in person before returning."
"Fine by me. Not far anyway. Still..."
Jin eyed the Iron Maiden.
"Can't she just tell me directly? She did fine last time."
"......"
Chemji fell silent.
As if the pilgrim were.
"Whatever. Do what you want."
Jin shrugged it off.
Truth was, bringing it up was just for efficiency.
Not because he secretly looked forward to her pleasant voice...
Wait.
Or was it?
Thinking about it, it was kinda ASMR-ish. Not bad.
Meanwhile, Schrödinger's pilgrim chattered on.
How much time passed? Something faint appeared in their view.
At first, a silhouette shrouded in dust clouds.
Ruins swayed by wind flickered into sight: toppled pillars, crumbled walls.
At some point, Bagmar stopped forging ahead alone.
"This ain't right."
Their strides aligned naturally as the ruins sharpened into focus.
"This the place?"
"Yes. Matches the saved coordinates."
"Damn."
Jin clicked his tongue softly.
The moment observation collapsed the superposition into certainty.
"It's fucked."
After all that trekking, a dud.
Jin wasn't particularly disappointed, though.
He hadn't joined for religious reasons—he just wanted to refresh before heading back to the city.
As he subtly checked the grimly sealed Iron Maiden,
"Jin. Bagmar. Please fall back a moment."
Bagmar blinked at Chemji's calm voice.
"Fall back?"
The ground rumbled deeply.
Beyond mere vibration—a profound quake.
Earthquake?
Jin's eyes widened,
Crackcraaaack—!
as a massive fissure spiderwebbed across the earth.
"Wak!"
Bagmar yelped and grabbed the handle in panic—but
Too bad, no reverse gear on a two-wheeler.
"Tell me sooner!"
Beside the helpless dwarf, Jin flailed his arms like a promo balloon.
The tremors were that intense.
That's when he noticed the area enveloped in a massive barrier.
Groooar—!!
The ground split, boulders and soil cascading like waterfalls, dragging something buried deep underground forcibly to the surface.
Chemji's voice followed.
"This pilgrimage was worthwhile after all."