Chapter 65
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: The King of Slaughter
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“Eating and being eaten is the law of nature, and dying to become flesh is the cycle. Thus, I shall sever the surging path of life and claim its blood and meat.”
“Nimbelle!”
“We shall become the foundation, the base, rising once more toward the heights!”
“Nimbelle!”
“By staining our own bodies with blood, we shall be reborn as flawless offerings to the god Avaris!”
“Nimbelle!”
As the priests and people wailed in call-and-response, young Riyayans began climbing onto the platform one by one.
Each of the sturdy men held a puzu knife remarkably similar to Dane’s cleaver.
Gurbanan addressed the butchery squad.
“Outsiders! Yesterday’s ritual has granted you the qualification as well. Join us! Slit the beasts’ bellies, carve their flesh, and prove yourselves! The one who offers the most beast meat here today shall become the King of Slaughter! Who will challenge for that honor?!”
The eyes of the butchery squad naturally turned to Dane.
From the scene before him, Dane perfectly understood the mural he had seen yesterday.
“A man butchering beasts. That’s what I’m about to become.”
A straightforward progression. They fed him raw liver to make him one of the ritual participants, then handed him a knife to butcher. And then...
“They’ll probably share and eat the butchered meat again. After that...”
He still didn’t know. But there was no reason to refuse the offer.
At the very least, he wouldn’t go hungry like yesterday.
With unfamiliar beasts waiting, he was nothing but thrilled. He almost felt sorry for catching them without hunting. But Kaipatu wouldn’t mind.
For he was not the god of the hunt, but the god of butchery.
Dane ascended the platform with a smirk.
“Until recently, I was strutting around as the King of the Hunt...”
Now he was competing against the Riyayans on stage for the title of King of Slaughter.
“Waaah!”
Cheers and applause poured down.
They were especially loud from the butchery squad. Seeing his comrades’ joyful faces, it truly felt like a festival.
Dane tossed his cloak to River in response to the cheers. Lightweight was the way to go.
“Kyaaah!”
“Ugh!”
“Emily! Cover your eyes!”
Urgent screams erupted amid the Riyayans.
Dane ignored them and surveyed his competitors.
Four men staring at him in shock. All well-built, their puzu knives well-maintained. Some had prepared additional gear.
They quickly composed themselves and focused, evidently determined to claim the title of King of Slaughter.
Dane felt a strange camaraderie.
He had unexpectedly met people who deboned and portioned beast meat in this unlikely place.
“Hunters in the Fold region couldn’t do it even when I taught them.”
He was curious about his rivals’ skills.
While he pondered, the Riyayans finished preparations for the full competition.
Long marble tables were placed before the participants, and the floor was piled high with large tubs for the portioned meat.
Once tubs of water were provided to each, Gurbanan shouted.
“The one who lasts until the end shall be the king of Nimbelle. Give us meat!!”
* * *
While several Riyayans worked together to hoist mid-sized beasts onto the tables, Dane merely observed, deciding which one to take first.
Twelve beasts in total. Four competitors. They chose mid-sized ones.
That left eight, including four mid-sized beasts he’d never seen before.
“Garuditor, Sukorowk, Aerosnos, Monotor.” Mostly covered in green hide or fur, with excellent meat quality.
He would inspect them while mentally rehearsing the deboning and portioning.
No matter how skilled the Riyayans were, they couldn’t match him. Buoyed by absolute confidence, he formed a reckless plan.
“I won’t let anyone else’s knife touch this fresh meat.”
And he shouted.
“Bankers!”
Dane pointed at the Garuditor. It felt similar to a water buffalo.
The beast, over 5 meters including its tail, was effortlessly lifted onto Bankers’ shoulder. Gasps erupted at the monstrous strength.
“Wowww!”
But what followed left no room for further awe.
The moment the beast hit Dane’s table and he drew his cleaver, the Riyayans were left dumbfounded.
Bleeding, deboning, and portioning happened simultaneously. Each stroke of the knife shredded hide and parted flesh. Blood cascaded like a waterfall.
Dane forfeited his chance to watch the others. Now, only he and the beast existed in his world.
Radius, humerus, scapula, ribs, spine, lumbar, tailbone, pelvis, femur, tibia—all separated from the body.
Neck fillet, tenderloin, leg meat, short ribs, sirloin, inside skirt, outside skirt, brisket, strip loin, tenderloin, top round, bottom round, oyster blade poured forth.
“Ah...”
One beast sliced into dozens of pieces and dumped into tubs, another hoisted up—the chorus of sighs finally erupted.
And it was dismantled without mercy.
“One more!”
Even Dane had never processed this many beasts in succession.
He realized what he knew on sight. He learned anew while cutting, comprehended again while slicing.
Before his mind grasped it, his hands knew.
His awareness couldn’t keep pace with his knife.
The cheering music accelerated, his movements laced with madness.
Blood mist bloomed from the swinging cleaver.
As if possessed by a god.
No, already possessed by one.
His vision tinted red, time slowed.
Following the flow of the knife.
Muscles and flesh that had moved hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.
Now severed and divided in directions they would never meet again.
In the time his rivals couldn’t finish even one...
Dane processed eight beasts without pause and reached for the next.
“More! Bring more!!!”
It still wasn’t enough to feed all these Riyayans. They’d get mere scraps again, like yesterday.
Carts rolled in once more, beasts supplied endlessly as if by magic. With meat available, it continued. It couldn’t stop.
Talent inherited from his parents and divinity from Kaipatu poured through the cleaver.
The floor grew slick with blood. Exhausted competitors collapsed onto it, unable to match Dane’s pace and overexerting themselves. That was ordinary humanity.
Dane didn’t realize he stood alone on stage.
Lost in trance, swinging his cleaver, he had become one with the blade.
The truth of butchery. The perfection of deboning. The realm of portioning.
“Now... I think I understand a little more.”
No prepared beasts remained. No more carts arrived. Regaining his senses, Dane bellowed.
“What are you doing! Don’t grill the meat!!!!”
It was the command of the King of Slaughter.
* * *
The butchery squad bustled about, orchestrating a massive meat feast. Hundreds of Riyayans followed their lead as if entranced.
Fires blazed across the plains, meat sizzled. Smoke hung thick like a wildfire, savory aromas shaking the air.
Riyayans were used to beast meat, but what Dane cut and the squad grilled was different.
Not the meager portions they were accustomed to—the quantity was immense.
An unprecedented experience. Those who had eaten little and given thanks now realized.
Blaming shortages on divine will was mere self-consolation. More meat was always better.
Deeming it a once-in-a-lifetime chance, they ate on despite full bellies. Eating and drinking, the day passed. Nimbelle had become a meat festival.
Those stuffed to the throat couldn’t move. They had to lie down. Overcome by laziness, they sprawled across the plains.
Priest Gurbanan and the other priests were in the same state, but they mustered their all to return to the ritual chamber.
There, they lounged and leaned, discussing the situation. Irreverent postures, but unavoidable.
“What in the world is this, High Priest...”
The elder priest had to start like that. In the decades since Riyaya’s founding, no Nimbelle had ever seen such a thing.
The three-day Nimbelle was supposed to unfold perfectly as planned.
But from the first day, something felt off, and the second day spiraled out of control. Swept by the mood, beasts kept getting consumed.
The priests were afraid.
“I never imagined outsiders who eat beast meat would come... I didn’t know.” Gurbanan rubbed his bulging belly gingerly, speaking laboriously. The other priests stroked their own bellies and continued.
“It wasn’t just eating. It wasn’t mere butchery. Did you see?”“That man... he’s not the King of Slaughter. Even saying the god of slaughter incarnated wouldn’t be an exaggeration.” Gurbanan had eyes and had seen. A mouth, and had eaten.
His only regret was that he couldn’t hold back.
He said,
“But nothing changes. Outsiders who’ve joined Nimbelle before were all sorts too. Now... it’s just a bit more unusual ones.”
The priests recalled the various outsiders who had become resources for Riyaya.
Most were shocked by the first day’s raw liver ritual.
They educated those in panic at the communal quarters to understand Avaris’s will.
Made them slaughter themselves to become part of the food chain, then offered those resources to god Avaris to complete the cycle—that was Nimbelle.
Of course, the process was never smooth.
Far more rejected and failed to understand. Countless tried to flee. Inevitably, they were forcibly offered to Avaris.
Nothing was as effective for blocking outside influx and binding the inside as the Nimbelle ritual. That’s how Riyaya endured so long.
“I admit this King of Slaughter is special. But before Avaris, he’s just another human.”
The priests grasped the meaning.
He showed superhuman skill, but he was still a human male. His fate was sealed the moment he entered Riyaya—no need to waver.
Gurbanan emphasized again.
“This time, we even have an elf. An elf who eats meat is rare. Avaris will be especially pleased. We must follow the god’s will for Riyaya to survive.”
That was it. Only the final blessing ritual remained, then skinning the unnecessary outsiders and offering them to the temple.
But with bellies too full now, preparations would start a bit later.
* * *
As twilight fell, dyeing the deep green plains, the fires lit for grilling faded to embers.
People still lounged and rolled about, the butchery squad among them.
Dane had to smile at each person who approached endlessly to greet him.
The Riyayans treated Dane with far more friendliness than expected, as if he were a true king.
Only after the crowds dispersed did River exhale deeply.
“I thought you’d win easily, but I didn’t expect you to pull it off like this.”
Bankers thumped his sky-high belly, teasing Dane.
“Dane, you’ve got another nickname now. Slayer, King of Hunters, and now King of Slaughter, haha!”
Dane himself was baffled in retrospect. Butchering enough beasts to fill hundreds, with endless supply—it had all happened in a near-unconscious state.
As he reflected and sorted his thoughts, someone crawled up to him belatedly.
It was Phrawan.
Face flushed and greasy from eating and drinking heavily.
She lay sideways beside Dane, then flipped skyward uncomfortably, speaking in a slurred voice.
“...I’m really glad. So happy. That you... won.”
She spoke in riddles, just like their first meeting. Now, he had to ask directly.
“Why are you happy I became King of Slaughter?”
“Because now I can marry you.”
The butchery squad shot to their feet the moment Phrawan finished speaking.