Chapter 22
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Leighton Village
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“Today happens to be the day the Root Market opens. Nearby root villages gather in the backyard of the relay station to buy and sell goods. You should be able to get what you need there.”
Village Chief Yansen spoke to the departing Lucas Hunting Party and asked to join them.
“The villagers have been too busy tending to the neglected crops to go, but... if I go with you, it’ll help sell the Krekator hide and scales at a good price.”
“Sounds perfect.”
River welcomed the idea.
Shopping for goods was great, and finishing the report on their first commission felt refreshing in every way.
Unlike when they arrived, the Lucas Hunting Party left the village amid a grand send-off.
The wagon was loaded with local specialties: honey onions, eight-color paprika, and dried perilla powder.
It was heavier in every sense.
The people waved until they were out of sight.
Not just the villagers, but even the Pohen Hunting Party had a strange energy on their faces. Probably because they’d seen new possibilities from the Lucas Hunting Party.
The good mood of their departure matched the fine weather.
They raced along the Root Path under the clear morning sun. Soon, the wagon arrived at the Root Relay Station.
“Let’s report the commission first.”
Since Dane had received the commission, he handled the report. As he placed his hand on the Tienun and recalled the events in Horhe Village, the elf’s eyes widened over her folded hands.
“...You’ve accomplished something remarkable.”
Dane grinned, then closed his eyes again to focus on the Tienun.
He thought of their next destination: Leighton Village. Coincidentally, there was a new commission. It was to exterminate ‘monsters.’
“We’ll head to Leighton Village.”
“Received.”
The Tienun and the elf confirmed Dane’s intent.
“Root...”
“It’s weakened, right? We’ll be careful.”
The elf murmured as Dane headed out.
“May the World Tree’s blessing be with you...”
* * *
Thanks to Yansen’s help haggling, the Krekator hide and scales sold for an incredible price.
The Lucas Hunting Party earned in one zone what they’d made in a day, filling River’s coffers even more.
“Not that it’s my place to say, but don’t we look like we’re just wandering around naked? Dane, Bankers... At this point, shouldn’t we call ourselves the Exposure Squad?”
River broached the topic while eyeing the baldies before her. With their trip to the cold region, she’d been about to suggest buying proper clothes.
“Shedding our skin to reveal healthy flesh is a lizardman’s pride. But this time, I’ll have to go along with the idea.”
After serious discussion, the three settled on thick cloaks.
After stocking up on essentials and fresh spices like garlic and ginger, the wagon headed straight for Leighton Village.
“Isn’t luck on our side? I thought we’d just pass through, but there’s a commission waiting.”
“Weird. Leighton Village was built by tough hunters, so I thought they didn’t rely on base cities.”
“Means they’re in real trouble, then? Can’t wait to see what new flavor awaits. Heh heh.”
While River and Bankers chatted, Dane lay on the wagon roof, reviewing their last hunt.
Thoughts rose endlessly like passing clouds.
‘The power from the Krekator equals over a month of hunting.’
The strength gained from eating mid-to-large monsters was definitely different.
‘Monsters really are all about size...’
Big ones tasted good and looked cool.
But they were just as hard to catch.
‘Nearly died for real this time.’
Size created a huge reach gap, beyond just strength. The problem was his attacks specialized in close combat.
‘If I can just get close, it’s fine...’
He needed a safe way to close distance or a ranged option.
‘Bows don’t get Kaipatu’s power, so they’re useless.’
By normal hunter standards, Dane’s archery was decent, but it paled against his cleaver on monsters.
It made sense.
Kaipatu was the God of Butchery, so he only boosted blades.
Time passed without easy answers. They traveled half a day.
“It’s getting cold! Put on your clothes!”
River shouted. The temperature dropped in an instant.
‘It’s still mild compared to Mekel Mountain.’
But Dane only had regeneration; he couldn’t handle freezing bare-skinned. He decided to warm up.
Dane leaped from the wagon, overtaking the horses. His flapping cloak fell squarely onto River’s lap.
“Again! Again! Again!”
Ignoring River’s grumbling, he charged into the sleet toward a mid-sized monster that set his heart racing.
‘First time seeing this one. Bekelztor.’
The beast prowling the barren land looked like a badger crossed with a dinosaur.
Long snout, streamlined body. Coarse, stiff fur covered thickly from forehead to tail base.
Its claws were oversized compared to its feet. Must have a purpose—digging or tearing flesh.
Another oddity: the smell. That stench could incapacitate foes. At least disrupt composure.
Watch the hindquarters, Dane thought, drawing his only weapon, the cleaver.
The beast swung its long snout toward Dane, gauging the approaching foe by scent.
“q̸͜͡p̸̢̛f̵̨͠!!”
Roaring mid-sized monster, dozens of meters away.
Its stubby legs packed with muscle promised to close the gap instantly.
If it charged, ride it over and slash the back. Standard plan, best option. Just don’t overshoot. And he didn’t.
-Shraaak!
As he rode over and fell, the beast’s neck snapped back, something whipping around Dane’s body.
‘Tongue?!’
The coiling tongue retracted to its gaping maw. Arm-thick fangs filled his vision instantly.
Dane revised his failed plan on the fly.
-Pak!
He smashed a fist into the fang gap, using the recoil to cleaver the coiled tongue. Then dropped to the ground.
Dane sliced the beast’s uplifted chin vertically. Without pause, he dove under its belly, drawing a long line.
Hot blood warmed the cold air instantly. The beast’s body cooled, but Dane, taking it all, felt warm for a moment.
Never imagined the tongue stretched that far.
Trial and error was inevitable.
He picked up the severed tongue from the ground—fascinating. Rubber-like, it had shrunk to arm-length.
‘This stretched enough to coil around me...’
Dane gripped the tip and flicked it forward. Shraaak—it extended, then snapped back.
Aiming farther, he pushed harder. It stretched several meters.
Thin, elastic tongue.
Laughter bubbled up; he looked to the sky. Had Kaipatu heard his wish? This random monster’s tongue felt like a gift.
As Dane stood dazed by the unexpected luck, the wagon finally arrived. He wrapped the tongue around his arm and inspected the meat.
Cold-climate monster—plenty of fat. A thick, glowing fat lump on its chest stood out. Nothing else noteworthy.
‘River’ll handle it.’
Craving hot stew as the chill returned, Dane turned away regretfully. His hands held beautiful lard chunks.
“Great lard quality. Melt and solidify for lard substitute, or dissolve in boiling water for broth. Good haul.”
River draped his cloak over him as she spoke.
‘Oh, those methods...’
Trust her.
Using it with other meat would double the power, he thought, fastening the cloak. Sheepskin-lined thick leather warmed him quickly.
The wagon resumed toward nearby Leighton.
Snow thickened under the faint moonlight.
* * *
“A wagon’s coming!!”
A watchman shouted from the tower amid scattering snowflakes. Men climbed the entrance wall, eyeing the flashy, unfamiliar wagon.
“...What kind of wagon is that?”
Sandbill clenched his fist, biting his lip. He prayed they weren’t from Foldtown.
The Lucas Hunting Party marveled at approaching Leighton Village. Overwhelming their view was the massive stone wall behind it.
Perfectly sealing the canyon pass. The fortress-like high wall made the village look like a castle.
Bankers exclaimed.
“Whoa! Worthy of the gateway village name.”
The entrance was simple by comparison. But the armed men atop the gate wall were no joke.
The thick log gate creaked open, then shut. Men blocked the wagon inside.
Hunters wrapped in beast and monster hides. Fierce eyes, sharp cheekbones. Tightly shut lips said they weren’t pushovers.
“From Foldtown.”
River hopped down, removing her hood.
“Mm...”
A uniform groan rose from the men. Their expressions weren’t exactly welcoming, as rumored.
“Sandbill, son of Dirk and Imelda, chieftain of Leighton Village and guard captain. You’re the hunting party for the commission?”
“Yeah. Lucas Hunting Party.”
“Advance team?”
“No. I’m Vice Captain River, here’s member Bankers, and...”
Dane was missing from the roof. Flustered briefly, River added, “One more.”
“We thought we made our situation clear, but just this many?”
“Enough.”
The young woman’s reply twisted Sandbill’s gut. But he couldn’t show it. He’d requested them against opposition.
“Make way!”
A thick voice boomed from behind the line.
The path cleared for an elderly man whose beard covered half his face. Similar-aged men followed.
“Tsk tsk... You went begging to the elves after all, Sandbill. You threw away Leighton’s pride for this handful?”
This was what young chieftain Sandbill had feared.
His father, former chieftain Dirk, now passed to his son. Representative of the elders clashing with the village youth, he scowled, glancing between Sandbill and River.
“Does pride feed us? The wall could crumble anytime, turning the village to rubble. Or we starve first. That what you want to wait for?!”
Pent-up anger, fueled by disappointment from the Lucas Hunting Party, finally erupted. Sandbill glared at Dirk with blazing eyes.
Dirk replied.
“...We endure. That’s Leighton’s way!”
“How in this situation?! Things have changed!”
“It’s the life we chose. Leighton’s will!”
“That choice starves us or feeds us to monsters.”
“So you really believe these will help?”
Their heated voices halted at a sudden sound.
-Dum dum dum dum!
A great drum shook the village. A shout followed the echo.
“First assault!!!!”
All heads turned to the rear wall, spotting an incongruous figure.
Atop the massive stone wall stood a man, aloof.
His fur cloak whipped in the fierce wind, revealing his form clearly.
How’d he get up there?
The man with the sole answer gazed below, thinking.
When food delivers itself like that, why talk about starving?