Chapter 47
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Tau'ri Established
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Tau'ri was official.
Instead of an immediate brawl, a formal duel had been proposed, complete with time and place: the administrative district plaza after lunch.
Dane returned to headquarters, packed away a hearty meal of meat, and came back with his comrades.
Bankers spoke up.
“Heh, we’d better not let Dane go off alone anymore.”
“Yeah. It’s like he’s got a disease where nothing goes wrong unless he stirs up trouble.”
River let out a sigh, but her tone was gentle. Ever since the journey, Mecar had noticed her attitude toward Dane softening a bit.
Dane said.
“You guys stay out of it. That’s how it was agreed.”
They had no intention of jumping in anyway. It wasn’t that they were worried about him.
“When the Elite came up, it gave me a start…… but in the end, you’ll be off hunting another massive monster, won’t you.”
River spoke in a deflated voice, as if Dane’s victory was already a foregone conclusion.
Images flickered in her mind: Dane’s body torn apart by Krekator’s twin heads, him diving into the belly of the massive Kabakshuz.
Bankers patted her shoulder, fully understanding her feelings. Dane appreciated the tight-knit camaraderie among his squad members.
“Oh! Captain Dane. You look pleased as punch.”
It was Tebier. Dane approached Tebier and Illein, who had come to spectate personally, and clarified once more about liability.
“The administration has no grounds to prohibit a friendly competition. But I’d rather not see anyone die. You’re all valuable assets to the district, after all, hahaha!”
Tebier let out a hearty, grandfatherly laugh. As the inscrutable old elf’s smile faded, a commotion stirred from behind.
“It’s the Kemora Hunting Party!”
Led by Friedhold, Kemora appeared with her officers.
Word had spread fast, and a decent crowd had gathered.
Thanks to the bizarre rookie draft, his exploits in Sector 2, inheriting 5th-grade status from Lucas, and his appointment as captain, Dane’s name was already well-known. He was a figure who drew attention wherever he went, but hardly anyone in Foldtown had actually seen him in action.
To most Foldtown residents, he was still just a green rookie hunter.
Yet here he was, facing off against the Kemora Hunting Party in a Tau'ri. This was their chance to finally witness his skills firsthand. It was only natural that the thrill-seekers were drawn in.
“Friedhold. Teach him some respect for his seniors. And show him what happens when you covet what doesn’t belong to you.”
Kemora clapped Friedhold on the shoulder as she spoke, her voice brimming with strong confidence and authority.
Friedhold bowed deeply to his captain in greeting, then approached Dane.
“Vice Captain of the Kemora Hunting Party, square-jawed Friedhold, hereby formally challenges Captain Dane of the Butcher Squad to a Tau'ri.”
*In the end, it’s come to this.*
The gap between them was obvious.
After touring Sector 2 and devouring all sorts of monsters—including the mid-to-large Krekator and the massive Kabakshuz—Dane’s combat prowess had skyrocketed. By his own rough estimate, it now rivaled that of a mid-to-large monster.
No matter that Friedhold was 6th-grade; soloing a mid-to-large monster was impossible. And only Dane knew that.
“Toss your token, young hunter.”
-Ting!
A green hunter’s token dropped in front of Dane.
“Tau'ri!”
“Tau'ri!!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
*His spirit’s certainly improved.* Friedhold was no longer cowed by Dane now that his life was on the line.
*Still, lusting after prey you can’t catch is a hunter’s disqualification.*
With that thought, Dane flung his own token forward.
-Clang!
The vivid blue gleamed as it skittered across the ground, dazzling the onlookers.
“5th-grade?!”
“That…… kid is 5th-grade?”
Some hadn’t heard about the inheritance. They couldn’t help but be shocked. And his next move stunned them even further.
Dane handed his cloak to River and calmly drew the cleaver from his belt, staring down Friedhold. River cringed for her captain.
“Do you…… have to take off the cloak?”
“The rest of the squad seems fine with their captain dressing like that. Why not you?”
Dane sounded a bit hurt. It was a fair point, but River didn’t waver. She was just worried about how this fight would end.
Even if Friedhold died, the Kemora Hunting Party wouldn’t let the Tau'ri drop.
There were plenty of other hot-blooded powerhouses, like wet-mace Huan or claw-talon Isaac. Of course, Dane wouldn’t care about any of that.
“You won’t get hurt, but be careful.”
As she whispered that, Friedhold lunged first. River flinched, but Dane charged ahead.
A blurry mass of flesh shot toward him, but Friedhold twisted his body aside, immediately regained his balance, and thrust his blade forward.
It looked fluid at first glance, but the tip was viciously sharp.
Square-jawed Friedhold. He was 6th-grade at hunting, but his true talent lay in interpersonal combat. Even Kemora found him a tough 1-on-1 opponent.
But Dane was no longer where the blade aimed. He was too fast to even register in Friedhold’s vision.
As if he could see Friedhold’s attacks coming a mile away, Dane dodged leisurely while pondering.
*So this is swordsmanship, huh.*
It had been a lingering question ever since his duel with Lucas. If Dane developed his own techniques, could he grow stronger than in his improvisational hunts?
If so, what techniques could he even develop? Did he need to learn from someone?
Dane had a vague answer already.
*I already have techniques.*
Defying everyone’s expectations, Dane burrowed into Friedhold’s guard at blinding speed.
“Wha…… what the……!”
The moment Friedhold’s jaw dropped in disbelief, Dane’s cleaver grazed shallowly from under his chin down to his groin.
*2-minute carcass.*
No damage to Friedhold—just a mark left on his armor.
*Now, straight into quartering carcass division.*
In that split second, Dane whipped the blade again, slicing from the waist up and down. The mark on the armor shifted to a cross shape.
*Now, subdivision!*
In one breath, simulated partial boning and trimming.
Boning above the neck centered on the clavicle, shoulders based on the glenohumeral joint.
-Shk!
Upper and lower torso boning centered on the ribcage.
-Swk!
Lower body segmentation along lumbar, hip, and tailbone; large cut below the glutes, then subdivided into three.
The invisible motions rose as an eerie aura, etching countless traces on the leather armor.
*All creatures are the same.*
Having practiced and set his standards, Dane finally backhanded Friedhold’s face with the broad side of his cleaver.
-Bam!
Friedhold’s teeth shattered completely, and his square jaw caved inward. Teeth rained down first, followed by his massive bulk tumbling to the ground.
“Gahk!”
The silver-tongued Friedhold wouldn’t be talking anytime soon.
And that was it. He didn’t get up.
*How is he that fast?!*
That was the unanimous thought of the spectators.
In an instant, some squad members reflexively surged forward. Reckless, driven by hot blood. They hadn’t grasped the level gap. Only the truly weak fail to recognize it.
Dane blocked their path faster than they could toss their tokens.
“You wanna pile on?”
“Yeah, you little…….”
-Kwach!
Now the Kemora Hunting Party had two muties. Kwach! Three! Kwach! Four!!
“Stop!!!”
Kemora shouted.
A wolf pack or a hunting party—same essence. The leader gauges the foe through the vanguard’s fight before issuing the next order.
The difference? With this many spectators, she couldn’t order a full swarm.
Kemora drew her saber from her belt and aimed it at Dane.
The gracefully curved blade grew sleeker toward the tip, mirroring her own streamlined form.
-Ting!
Kemora waved her officers back and silently tossed her token forward without a word. Deep navy blue—the mark of Foldtown’s sole 4th-grade hunter.
Her terrified squad members dragged their mangled-faced comrades back, clearing space. The crowd backed away on their own.
Her swordsmanship, dubbed the “Phantom Kemora,” had an absurdly wide radius. Get mesmerized by the flashy bladework, and you’d be caught off-guard, injured before you knew it.
Dane’s gaze slowly scanned Kemora’s body, assessing muscles and bones. She didn’t see it that way. Humiliation twisted into rage.
“You little brat…….”
Killing intent seeped into her voice.
*So this is 4th-grade.*
The dynamic energy pulsing in her body and the aura she exuded were both impressive.
If Lucas honed a single energy to a razor edge, Kemora wrapped herself head to toe in spiky aura without gaps. Intrigued, Dane readjusted his grip on the cleaver.
He anticipated something beyond blunt, straightforward strikes—a whole new dimension.
A gust of wind passed, and a faint hum rose from Kemora’s saber. It began.
-Shwaaaa!
The saber scattered blinding flashes as it engulfed Dane.
Dozens of blades seemed to target him at once. Each unpredictable path brimmed with terrifying speed and power.
*Not bad.*
He admired it in that fleeting moment.
Real and feint strikes blended indistinguishably; you’d lose your head to the dazzle without knowing how. It wouldn’t be useless against monsters or beasts.
*But you’re just human, Kemora.*
Ultimately, living creatures are flesh and bone. For Dane, who peered inside, it was just a matter of setting standards and testing steadily.
*If I think of that blade’s motion as a monster’s claws or spikes……*
Elbow joint first—separate radius and ulna. Dane deliberately threw himself into the blaze of light.
Dodging every attack with bizarre contortions, Dane deemed this enough. He thrust his hand forward.
“Ah…….”
“Huh…….”
His comrades thought he was sacrificing his hand again. Wrong. That didn’t happen. What did was bizarre.
Both Kemora and Dane froze in place. Only a handful understood, including the two involved.
“Th…… this…….”
Dane’s angular cleaver tip rested precisely on Kemora’s elbow guard. By pressing that vital juncture, he’d perfectly sealed her movement.
Hitting one exact point amid the flashy flurry to subdue the foe? Impossible.
Kemora hesitated in utter bewilderment, then yanked her arm back for another strike……
Dane pressed forward, the contact point stuck like glue. As if linked from the start, his cleaver clung to her arm like a leech.
“Eek!”
Kemora bit her lower lip hard, and only then did Dane pull back.
Ultimately, boning and trimming meant reading and separating joints, tendons, muscles, and flesh. So blocking the paths of power transmission was no different from striking to inflict damage.
*This is my swordsmanship.*
Dane, defining it for himself, unconsciously smiled faintly. It could pass for perfect mockery.
“You…… you’ll die for this…….”
Even with the clear gap, Kemora’s resolve didn’t waver. Did she have to take the leader’s head to end this?
Dane raised his cleaver toward her, as if resigned.
“No hard feelings…… If you insist on seeing it through, no choice.”
He fully regarded Kemora as prey now. The intent to kill unleashed an untouchable aura from him.
The hunters finally realized.
*He’s not human. He’s a monster!*
*Forget Tau'ri—swarm him!*
*We’ll all die!*
*The party’s done for!*
Unprompted, Kemora’s squad members instinctively formed up around her.
Shields, swords, and maces in the front line; spearmen behind. At the wide formation’s edges, archers nocked arrows.
As Foldtown’s largest hunting party prepared to hunt a human monster—
“Wait!!!”
Kemora flung her arm out sideways, halting her squad.
This wasn’t the situation she wanted. It’d be a massacre. She was desperate. But Dane’s hand was already extended.
“Huh?!”
The blade veering toward her throat reflexively twisted.
-Puk!
The flat side smacked her face.
Kemora, who’d stepped up to safeguard her squad as captain, spun through the air several times before crashing to the ground.
*……That really hurts.*
Friedhold, lying on the ground, sighed in his hazy mind. It didn’t feel like someone else’s problem.