Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Outside the City Walls
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Staron Kingdom border wall village.
Having stepped down from the carriage, Krash was confronted with a mildly irritating situation.
"Scram, kid. Don't butt in like a jinx."
It was because he was quarreling with the guide who was supposed to take him to the broker that would sneak him over the wall.
"No, I'm paying you, right?"
From Krash's standpoint, the situation was utterly absurd.
The man who was supposed to introduce him to the broker flat-out refused, solely because he was a child, even after being offered money.
"Sigh, kid. You have no idea what's outside the walls, do you?"
The man then looked at Krash with eyes weary of the back-and-forth.
"The official road between the Empire and Staron Kingdom is safe because it's cleared of World Erosion every single day."
That was common knowledge.
The official road was what merchants and travelers used.
On the other hand, those taking back paths like this were mostly people hiding their identities or outright criminals.
"But unofficial paths are overrun with World Erosion growing wild. Brokers guide you along routes that avoid it as much as possible."
He said that while glaring at Krash.
"Thing is, World Erosion terrifies even the boldest folks sometimes."
World Erosion fundamentally instilled aversion in humans.
In truth, it was akin to a survival instinct.
A deep-seated warning etched into the body: don't go near danger.
"Grown adults panic in that mess—what do you think happens with a kid like you? The brokers guiding you die right alongside."
Krash couldn't exactly refute what came next.
No matter the money, they had no reason to shoulder that kind of risk.
'In the end, it's this kid body that's the problem.'
Being young had its perks.
Well-trained, no curses.
But this appearance sparked endless hassles.
"Guessing you're headed to the Empire's Martial Tournament. Whatever it is, just take the official road."
"If I could take the official road, why would I be here?"
"What do you want me to do about it? Anyway, no guiding. Figure it out yourself."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked off.
Watching him go, Krash nearly decked him but held back.
'Damn it, even I—who's been to the Forbidden Zone—get treated like this.'
He hadn't expected regression to come with drawbacks like this.
"What now?"
Crimson Garden asked from the side, where she'd watched without lifting a finger to help.
She seemed to find the spectacle entertaining.
"Crimson Garden, got any magic? Like something to turn me into an adult real quick."
"As if. Maybe if you wore human skin inside out."
She tossed out the gruesome suggestion without batting an eye.
A fresh reminder that she was a World Erosion being, Krash cradled his forehead in his hand.
"Hey, kid."
As Krash pondered his next move, a voice calling him made him turn.
There stood a short-haired woman in her mid-twenties.
She looked at Krash and gave a gentle smile.
"You want to head outside the walls?"
"Yeah."
Krash replied curtly, and she lowered her stance.
Even in winter, she wore only a thin t-shirt beneath her coat, her ample chest on full display.
"If that's it, sis might be able to help."
"You a broker?"
"Not a broker, but a merchant selling goods."
Hearing that, Krash soon grasped her meaning.
"Hide me among the goods to smuggle me out."
"Yep. Brokers got no reason to check cargo. Most stuff moved from here is that sort anyway."
Not a bad proposal.
"Price?"
"Ten times the broker fee."
She threw out the outrageous demand without hesitation.
Truly a merchant.
Likely priced with room for haggling.
But Krash had another angle.
"Just take the broker's pay."
"Heh, then no ride for you. Kid stays walled in."
"I'll handle escort duty instead."
She blinked at that.
Then burst into giggles, hand over her mouth as if it were the funniest thing.
"You sure you ain't overrating yourself, kid?"
Krash rummaged in his pocket.
He'd meant to avoid the hassle, but circumstances called for it.
The woman's eyes flicked to his hand.
In it was a badge emblazoned with the Valheim crest.
Everyone in Staron knew the Valheim emblem.
Proof: her body went rigid.
But the real stunner was the faint blue glow seeping from it.
Any Staron resident had heard tales of that light.
Criminals, especially—those forever in Valheim swords' sights—knew it intimately.
The blue glow only from direct Valheim lineage.
Valheim's special proof of status.
"Uh, uh?"
As she stammered in shock, Krash swiftly clapped a hand over her mouth.
He filled her vision with the Valheim crest, hood pulled back to reveal brilliant blue eyes.
The blue eyes and black hair of Valheim blood sealed it for her.
"Got the picture now?"
Face drained white, she nodded frantically.
From the moment he'd covered her mouth, his presence had pinned her in place.
"Tell whoever. Won't help you—they won't believe anyway."
No reason a Valheim would shun official roads for this.
He flicked his hand off her mouth; she spun around with a flinch.
"L-let's go!"
With the crest, his skill was proven.
She probably didn't even care about escort—just take the money, dodge the sparks.
'Merchant smarts. Makes talking easy.'
Following her, Krash soon reached a massive carriage.
Iron-barred and draped in black cloth.
Inside: Erosion Beasts.
She was apparently a merchant illegally capturing and selling them.
Tuck in among them, brokers won't see.
They're under sleep magic—no danger.
"Tell me when the broker's done guiding."
Krash fished out the broker's pay and flicked it over.
She snatched it hurriedly, unlocked the cage door.
"P-please, enter."
Krash trudged inside; she locked up and redraped the cover.
Meanwhile, he found a spot and plopped down.
Crimson Garden alighted on the carriage floor.
"Some rare specimens here."
"Gotta fetch a price."
Krash eyed the Erosion Beasts with clear distaste.
All hallucinatory, auditory types—the so-called narcotic beasts.
"Deranged junk."
Couldn't fathom folks chasing highs with narcotic Erosion Beasts; he leaned against the wall.
The carriage lurched into motion with rattling.
Body tilting inward meant descending underground.
Back route under the walls.
Krash waited quietly; hours passed.
Voices outside briefly, then footsteps approaching.
Clang—
The iron door swung open.
Krash stepped out to find the merchant woman waiting.
"Broker?"
"Gone. Guide ends here."
Figure out the rest.
Krash hopped down lightly; emerald skies filled his view.
Unlike Staron, warped by World Erosion.
Not novel to Krash.
Proof they were beyond the border.
'Long as it's not red, no issue.'
Eyes off the sky, he turned to the merchant woman.
"Anyway, where you headed? For reference, Empire."
Krash grinned as he said it.
She got the implication, flinching as she answered.
"M-me too, Empire."
Her real destination didn't matter.
Empire-bound Krash meant she was too.
"Good. Onward."
He headed to the driver's seat, hopped up; she reluctantly sat beside.
As she urged the horses again, Krash scanned around.
Just her and the beasts.
"No other escorts?"
"Ah, yeah. I hunt Erosion too. Pretty capable—handle up to 2-star. 3-star? Run. Hiring costs more anyway. Go solo. Bandits are the issue, but crazies outside walls are rare enough."
Surprisingly skilled.
Pure level-wise, maybe close to his.
"What's your name, Sir Valheim?"
She tossed the question casually.
Krash chuckled at her.
"Names won't do either of us favors."
"R-right! No intros. Hya!"
Dodging any fallout, she whipped the horses fast.
Thus, smooth travel; Krash leaned back.
'Some Erosion en route would be nice.'
While she prayed for none.
Clop-clop, clop-clop!
Ten days since border-crossing carriage trip began.
The merchant woman navigated flawlessly, picking only Erosion-free paths like a pro.
Thus, Krash poured time into aura training under Crimson Garden's guidance.
Plenty of time to Empire, but incidents audible—not enough slack to hunt extras.
'Return trip for that.'
So he trained leisurely.
Night fell before he knew.
As Krash draped the blanket she'd given, she hung a bell at the carriage rear.
Rang at any approach.
"How much farther?"
"Five days at this rate. Smooth—no Erosion. Thanks to you, Sir Valheim?"
She flashed an eye-smile, buttering him up.
First ten days, she'd been wary.
But sensing his temperament, realized he was more lenient than expected.
"Must be nice being Valheim. Born owning the world."
Hence chats like this.
"World that small? Didn't think so."
"Eh, you're young—haven't felt it yet? Commoners fret over three meals. You don't."
True enough.
But nobles and commoners had one stark divide.
"Right, nobles don't worry that. But just as we don't know you, you don't know us."
Krash gazed at the lawless expanse outside.
From barren nothing, nations forged battling World Erosion.
Nobles upheld them.
Many forgot—even nobles.
Plenty frittered away, ignoring duty.
'Peace breeds power games.'
When peace shatters, power-chasers die first.
"Heh, yeah? Then make me a noble. Pre-book marriage to you while at it?"
What nonsense from a mid-twenty.
"I'm engaged."
"Really? Your fiancée must be adorable."
"Adorable?"
Krash pictured Bianca briefly.
He knew she'd grow into stunning beauty.
Admirers had dragged him into messes before, fiancée or not.
Appearance-wise, top-tier.
'Adorable, huh.'
Her chick-like trailing might qualify as cute.
"Maybe."
"Pfft, look mature beyond looks, but childish side too. No love experience?"
"Sorry—have."
Krash shed the blanket, stood.
"Love that ended before it began."
His gaze turned outward.
The merchant caught it puzzled; Crimson Garden above cawed sharply.
"Looks like work time."
"Oh no."
Ding-a-ling!
The bell she'd set rang out.
Late to react, she drew her weapon and rose.
Beyond pitch-black woods: figures approaching like black liquid turned human.
Trouble: not one or two.
"Lawless zone indeed."
Symptom from killing a World Erosion lord without proper purification.
One variant: black humans.