Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: The Last King of Karbahan
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88
8
“…It’ll be fine, right?”
Noel asked, breathing heavily.
Even while running, she kept looking back, clearly worried sick about Ethan.
“Of course. As someone once said, my sturdiness is my strong suit.”
Ethan had withstood Luena’s one-sided barrage without faltering.
Against Torgang, he might get hurt, but his life wouldn’t be in danger.
“I get that you’re worried, but… right now, catching the enemy comes first.”
“Yeah… Taking them down is the priority. Right.”
Noel nodded with a grim expression.
Not beating herself up was progress worth calling a major step forward.
She was definitely the type who needed real combat experience to grow.
Though I hadn’t expected her to roll around in the dirt like this.
We soon burst out of the forest.
The wide plain offered no obstacles to block our view.
That’s why we couldn’t just pass by the man standing arrogantly at the entrance.
“Hmm. I thought someone tailing me was Torgang. Guess not?”
Arms crossed, he turned haughty golden eyes on us, gazing down like he owned the world.
Skin that melted into the night, short ponytail of reddish-brown hair, traditional garb adorned with all sorts of dangling ornaments that concealed a lithe frame similar in height to mine.
He was one of the Nagaraja.
“Acting all high and mighty, yet you botched even this simple task. Mutt.”
Even with enemies before him, the man remained utterly relaxed.
He let out a deep sigh, shrugged, and cast a contemptuous glance our way.
“Wasting time shaking off a single mutt makes you mutts as well. I am Shubalina, the last king of the glorious Karbahan Tribe. Time’s short, so come at me all at once.”
Shubalina drew the two scimitars from his waist.
A rare dual-wielder employing the Karbahan Tribe’s unique swordsmanship.
His attack rhythm was so hard to read that he boasted second place even among the Nagaraja.
Could five of us take him down quickly?
I wasn’t confident.
“Do you remember the Balato Family?”
Kyriakos stepping forward out of nowhere was completely unexpected.
His usual inscrutable eyes were gone.
Murderous intent overflowed from those dull purple irises.
“Don’t speak without permission, mutt.”
“I asked if you know the Balato Family.”
“Tch, impudent fool. No. Never heard of such lowly trash.”
The light faded from Kyriakos’s pupils.
He didn’t even blink, looking less like a human and more like a monster wearing human skin—utterly alien.
“Four years ago, the organization you annihilated.”
“Don’t speak of things unworthy of my memory. It annoys me. Do you remember every ant you crush underfoot?”
“No need to remember. I’ll tear you apart and scatter you across this plain.”
“Impudent. But amusing enough for sport. Show me your skills, mutt. Impress me, and I might just tell you how you end up hanging by your neck.”
Before I could intervene, Kyriakos charged at Shubalina.
Shubalina—the one who wiped out the Balato Family. Kyriakos’s target for revenge.
But Shubalina was a lackey of the Precursors.
If he was involved… that meant the Precursors had orchestrated the Balato Family’s destruction.
They’d meddled here too.
My bad premonition hit the mark.
Scimitars clashed with sword.
Drawing his straight sword, Kyriakos ignored defense entirely, latching onto Shubalina.
It wasn’t human combat—it resembled a rabid dog thrashing about.
Even if he died, he’d take the opponent down with him. That single-minded resolve.
Faced with such vivid madness, Leon stepped forward.
“I’ll back him up.”
“N-No. I’ll do it, so you guys go ahead.”
Noel jumped in, loading her pistol.
Ethan staying behind first must’ve spurred them on.
Whether her or him, their excessive kindness was the problem.
“Stop it, both of you. How are we supposed to handle pursuit and fighting without you?”
Luis was the one who reined them in.
With a weary sigh, he shook the water from his green hair and opened his grimoire.
“I’ll stay. You go. Magic’s easy for support. Two-on-one’s no worry.”
Waving them off dismissively, Luis’s words dripped with bravado.
Kyriakos was clearly unhinged, no question.
No room to check his surroundings.
He’d cut down even Luis if he got in the way.
He was only cooperating because our interests aligned—no bonds or camaraderie there.
A rabid dog, through and through.
Staying to support him? In name, two-on-one. In truth, facing both Shubalina and Kyriakos at once.
“Senior, you sure?”
“Better than the worst case. Besides, you’re underestimating me. I haven’t lived soft enough to need worry from some kid.”
“True. Compared to your job-hunting struggles, this is nothing.”
“Hey, you…”
Sighing, Luis shook his head.
He didn’t deny it.
“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up soon.”
“We’ll finish before you arrive, so take your time.”
Luis, eyes wide unlike his usual squint, chanted as he approached Kyriakos.
We resumed running.
9
Kyriakos didn’t know his parents’ faces.
He didn’t know his birth name.
Birthplace, birthday, age—nothing.
All he knew was life as a stray prowling the fetid slums without a speck of light.
Scavenging rotten food, drinking stagnant rainwater.
A bottom rung that looked human society but was closer to the wild.
To survive, Kyriakos first stopped being human.
He didn’t hesitate to kill rats, and for food or coin, he’d do anything.
He abandoned escape from the alleyways’ deep mire, sinking deeper instead.
Contacting the Balato Family, who ruled Eseth’s back alleys then, was inevitable.
—You the mad dog? Intriguing.
Kyriakos never forgot his first meeting with the Balato Family boss, Kandat Balato.
He’d do anything to survive.
Pickpocketing was the easiest way.
Never caught before, he was confident.
That was his first and last capture.
Kandat Balato caught the bold mutt trying to rob his pocket.
Named him Kyriakos and raised him from stray to hound.
Daily training dancing on death’s edge.
But with a place to sleep and food, Kyriakos was content.
He considered the Balato Family family, more than his forgotten parents.
Years passed.
Grown into a perfect hound, yet those fangs never sank into the organization’s foes.
The Balato Family fell before that.
Sudden deaths of Kandat Balato and the leadership.
Chaos within.
The remnants scattered and absorbed into Wipera.
That’s the public story, but the truth ran deeper.
Not complicated.
The cause of the leadership’s deaths stood before him: Shubalina.
Kyriakos remembered that day vividly.
He’d survived by luck alone and swore never to forget.
Now, reunited with his nemesis.
Kyriakos threw himself into his duty as hound and mad dog.
“You dare! You!!”
“Mindlessly swinging that sword while barking away. Quite the mad dog yourself. Disgusting.”
Discarding defense, his sword surged like a black tide.
But momentum didn’t make it strong.
It seemed to stop, then moved; seemed to move, then stopped.
Dodging the ferocious assault with peculiar footwork, Shubalina swung his twin scimitars.
Blades fluttering like a dance sliced Kyriakos’s skin.
Blood soaked the plain.
The spray was unnatural.
Yet Kyriakos accelerated instead of slowing.
“So eager to die, mutt.”
“Shut your mouth!”
Crackle!
Green lightning surged toward Shubalina’s face.
As he froze momentarily, Kyriakos’s straight sword rushed in.
“Tch. One’s manageable, but two’s a hassle.”
Supporting the fully rampaging Kyriakos was tough enough.
Lightning magic boasted solid speed and power.
Even a graze induced muscle spasms, making it tricky.
Solution: eliminate one first.
Shubalina smirked arrogantly.
“Pity. For your avenger to be a mutt like you. If it were me, I wouldn’t rest easy in death.”
“Shut up! I’ll put you to eternal sleep!”
Emotion fueled the sword.
It might strengthen a single blow but left gaps.
Especially with madness narrowing his vision.
“Look, wide open. Mutt!”
Kyriakos raised his sword high.
Seizing the moment, Shubalina crossed his scimitars.
Perfect counter.
But he clicked his tongue and retreated.
Thick blood stained the blades.
Not Kyriakos’s.
Luis, hurling himself through the flurry of swords, bled from his back.
“Hoh. Triggered lightning the instant he was cut to deflect the blade. Not bad for a mutt.”
“You talk too much! Just shut it!”
He’d deflected the sword, averting a fatal wound.
Still cut all the same.
Gritting his teeth to swallow a groan, Luis clutched his shoulder as Kyriakos grabbed him, baffled.
“What are you doing? This is my fight. Why are you…!”
Slap!
Before he finished, a sharp crack turned Kyriakos’s head.
Breathing ragged, Luis—who’d slapped him—winced in pain.
“None of your business!?”
“…You, what did you just…?”
“Whether it’s your revenge or whatever, none of my business! To you it might be revenge, but to me… argh, damn it. It doesn’t concern me either. But I decided to help that obnoxious bastard fight. Not for your revenge.”
“Then why throw yourself in…?”
“You’d let him take a stupid hit like that?”
Blood drained away.
Vision spinning, Luis pressed his empty hand to his forehead.
Cold sweat soaked his gloves.
“If you died here… I’d have no face to show the juniors. And… I hit you out of frustration. If you’re getting revenge, do it right. Look at your enemy, not the past. Otherwise, the past kills you.”
Not as deep as Kyriakos’s, but revenge burned in Luis Lefersha’s heart too.
That’s why, more than anyone here, he understood, grasped, empathized—and threw himself in.
“Got it…? Damn…… Handle it yourself…… I’ll rest up…….”
The ground was slick with blood.
Kyriakos silently caught the collapsing Luis.
“Hmm. Conversation over?”
“Why not attack?”
“Even mutts have spirit. Interrupting that tarnishes a ruler’s dignity.”
“Talking honor in battle? You’re insane.”
Kyriakos gently laid Luis down.
The back wound wasn’t deep, but no mere scratch.
“Five minutes.”
“What?”
“I said I’d defeat you in five minutes.”
To avenge, see the enemy clearly.
As instructed, Kyriakos fixed on Shubalina.
“A hound’s eyes, not a mad dog’s.”
Shubalina grinned ferociously, swinging his scimitars more fiercely.
A captivating sword dance, but Kyriakos’s gaze stayed locked on Shubalina.
Ignoring defense remained the same.
Just more tenacious, sharper, targeting vitals to kill.
No holds barred.
Swords clashed.
With each shrill metallic scream, Shubalina’s dance slowed.
His body wouldn’t obey.
By the time he noticed the anomaly, victory had tilted away.
Kandat Balato took Kyriakos in for his talent.
Debuff, curse, restraint—whatever the name, it forcibly limited foes’ abilities.
Kyriakos mixed it into his sword, whittling enemies down.
The longer the fight, the more he restricted, forcing victory.
A brutal, vicious dogfight.
“You… tricked me, you mutt…!”
“Not your concern.”
“True enough. Hate to admit it, but… you’re stronger now…!”
The blade tip rent skin.
Ribs scraped, Shubalina toppled backward.
“Defeated… by a mutt…”
Deep wound.
Coughing blood, he gazed at the navy sky, lips moving.
“…Don’t remember the Balato Family. I’d just joined the organization then. Just a mutt following orders. But I remember cleaning the alleys.”
“Begging for your life?”
“Listen quietly. I know it’s too late. Unpleasant, but the price of acknowledging you.”
Cough. Blood wouldn’t stop.
Vision blurred, yet he kept his eyes open.
“That cleanup… even I found it odd. Many groups pledged under Wipera. But we purged most. I remember all who resisted to the end. Since I don’t recall… the Balato Family pledged but got purged.”
“…Why do that?”
“I told you. I just followed orders. Why…? No idea. Find out yourself… mutt…….”
Shubalina stilled.
Only then did Kyriakos slump back.
“…I won.”
But it wasn’t over.
Just one more perpetrator down.
Far to go to dismantle Wipera.
Above all, dismantling Wipera wouldn’t end it—a strong hunch.
For now, savor the small victory.
The sky turned navy.
Pale moonlight alone quietly lit Kyriakos crawling to Luis.