Chapter 19
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Village of Terror (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The two who had ruined the festival returned to their room.
The inn was right next to the village hall.
"Argh, you're heavy!"
Kael laid Bran on the bed and flopped down on the floor with a groan.
With all those muscles, he wasn't just heavy—he was a beast.
"Hah... haa... Bran, you okay?"
"Yeah. Ngh, more than okay!"
Bran rolled onto his back and gave a thumbs-up.
His slurred speech, tongue all twisted, was downright comical.
"...Doesn't look like it."
Kael sighed.
Still, it was a relief he'd stopped him before anything worse happened.
Just as he opened his mouth to say more, snoring started up.
"Kuhhh...! Pffft!"
"What the—already asleep?"
Kael let out a disbelieving chuckle.
The guy causes a scene and passes out right after.
Fine. Time for a talking-to.
Kael straightened up, mustering his courage, and began the lecture.
"Ahem. That was too reckless this time, Bran. What were you thinking, saying stuff like that in front of everyone?"
Of course, Bran was asleep, so it was safe.
The booze helped too.
"Even if you're upset, that's just rude. Unless it's causing harm, you gotta respect people's faiths."
"Kughhh! Pffuuuuh!"
"...And even at a festival, you should be more wary of strangers."
The village women flashed through his mind, brushing past and clinging to Bran with their bold figures.
Just thinking about it soured his mood again.
"...Especially the women."
Kael muttered.
Guess guys can't help it?
He bit his lip, overwhelmed by unfamiliar emotions he'd never felt before.
"Got it. I'll be careful."
"Hiiik!"
Kael tumbled backward.
A sudden reply.
Bran sat up, facing him.
"So, nothing else bothering you?"
"W-Weren't you asleep? You were snoring!"
"You think a few beers can get me drunk?"
Bran chuckled.
His voice was clear as day—no trace of intoxication.
Sure, it wasn't ordinary beer, but compared to Underground Farm crops, this was nothing.
A translucent window floated before his eyes.
The sleep-inducing component of the Snooze Fruit has been completely neutralized.
Heart of Harmeno activated. Harmful effects from plants reduced by half!
Toxin resistance slightly increased.
Plant-extracted poison barely fazed him.
Realizing the truth, Kael raised an eyebrow.
"S-Sleeping pills... No wonder it tasted weird."
"Pretty strong stuff. Without Morning's Blessing, you'd have passed out after one sip."
"What the hell? Why feed us that?"
"They planned this from the start. All that 'offering silence' ritual nonsense? Pure bullshit."
Bran clicked his tongue.
Just like in the game. Probably the rest too.
Kael hesitated before speaking.
"Uh... sorry about earlier. I got carried away thinking you couldn't hear."
"Nah. Actually felt good. Not getting stabbed in the gut with a knife is a win. 'That damn Bran bastard. Die once today!' didn't even cross your mind. I'm thrilled."
"I-I never thought that!"
"I know."
Bran got off the bed.
"Kael."
"Yeah?"
"Ever worshiped another god before?"
His tone was serious.
Rain still fell over the village below the window.
"No. Didn't even know I had divine power talent till you told me."
"Hmm... weird. Can't think of anything else."
"......"
"Anyway, it'll be fine from now on. Don't worry. Speak your mind, whatever. We're friends, right?"
Kael shrugged.
His ears warmed at "friends."
"......Friends."
"But promise me one thing."
"Huh?"
"Even if I act weird today, don't run. Happens sometimes. I'd appreciate it if you could understand then too."
A loaded statement.
Curious about his intent, but Kael had no plans to leave anyway. He nodded readily.
"Yeah. Got it."
"Good. Promise."
Bran held out his pinky.
Kael tilted his head.
"What's this?"
"Oh. Not a thing here, huh?"
Bran scratched his head.
Forgot this wasn't his old world for a sec.
"It's a promise gesture. Stick out your pinky and hook it."
"L-Like this?"
"Perfect. Only for promises you must keep."
Kael mimicked him.
Hooking fingers felt oddly fun; he smiled without realizing.
First time since ten.
Bran sealed it with a thumb stamp, a faint smile on his lips.
"Thanks. Hated this village forever. Never passed through peacefully."
"Forever? Been here before?"
"First time in person. You'll see soon. This place is actually..."
Then—
Footsteps outside the door.
Muffled, but heading straight here.
"W-What?"
"What else? Villagers here to kidnap us."
Bran replied flatly.
"Came quick. Guess I pissed 'em off good."
"W-What do we do, Bran?"
"I'll handle it. Stay put. Don't forget the promise."
Kael nodded.
Promise: no running.
Bran positioned himself by the door. Steps halted right outside.
Creeeak...
Rusty hinges screeched as the door opened.
Two burly men entered.
One with a sack, the other a club.
They scanned for their target.
Clink.
Metal rang from the left.
They whipped around, frowning.
A silver coin spun precariously, freshly tossed.
"......?"
Before questions, Bran burst from behind the door.
Thuk!
He spun his dagger and jabbed the first man's temple.
"......!!"
Eyes rolled back. Instant death.
Splurt! Blood sprayed as he yanked the blade.
The body crumpled like meat.
"Fuck, what the—"
The other gaped.
Before his rule-breaking shout echoed, Bran gripped his face.
Simultaneously stabbed both arms and legs with the dagger.
Thuk. Thuk. Thuk. Thuk.
Tendons severed, he collapsed.
Muffled screams vibrated in Bran's palm.
"Urk, grrrgh! Khrrgh!"
"Shh. Plenty of time to keep quiet."
Bran whispered.
The man's eyes shook wildly through his fingers.
"Memory's fuzzy since it's been ages, but rituals in the barn basement, right?"
"Mmgh! Grrgh!"
"Right?"
Thuk. Dagger into the thigh again.
His body jerked.
Kael watched, barely breathing.
"Staunch the bleeding, you might live. Nod if yes."
"......!!"
Quick nod. Then dagger grazed his throat.
Slice! Blood fountained, soaking his face.
Limp body. Pupils dilated—confirmed dead. Bran released his mouth.
"Short blades are just convenient. Longswords still tricky."
"B-B-Bran...?"
Kael stammered.
Bran's vibe had totally shifted.
He'd killed at Black Stone Fortress, but this was different.
More emotional, maybe.
Calm moves laced with subtle rage.
"Let's go, Kael."
"W-Where?"
"Save old man Leodorn. He's still alive. No worries."
Bran wiped blood on the man's clothes.
His blank expression held no more guilt than a butcher's.
"And you need to come for it to mean anything."
Hoping this mends things with Raweina.
"...Urgh."
Leodorn opened his eyes.
His skull throbbed like it was cracked.
Memories fragmented.
Handed the cart to the innkeeper, unpacked next room with escorts.
Drank their beer... then what?
He lifted his heavy head.
"My god... what the..."
Leodorn recoiled.
Caged like a beast in iron bars.
Luggage gone.
Arms bound tight behind with thick rope.
Beyond bars: a devilish temple.
"Am I dreaming?"
The headache said no.
Foul stench assaulted him. Bones scattered everywhere.
Some animal, mostly human.
Torches lined a path like an aisle.
"...Delpha."
Following the flames up: an altar.
Carved from rock. Massive woman statue behind.
Leodorn gasped.
"Hah."
Hundred villagers gathered before it.
No kids. Dead silence.
Frozen faces, emotionless.
Overwhelmed by the bizarre scene—
"Heh, you're awake?"
"That voice...!"
Deep timbre from behind. Familiar.
Remembered greeting him before the inn.
Whirling, Leodorn gaped.
"E-Elder?"
"Glad you're healthy. Worried your age couldn't handle the dose."
The self-proclaimed village elder stood there.
Sack over his head, eyeholes only—eerie.
But not why Leodorn was shocked.
His two escorts flanked the elder.
He shouted.
"Damn it, what the hell is this?!"
"You'll see soon. To the altar."
Elder's order: escorts opened the cage, dragged him out.
No strength to resist.
"Let, let go! You bastards!"
They just smiled silently.
Then it hit him—something was very wrong.
"You... that's why you kept pushing the mountain path!"
"Spot on. They were villagers from the start. Their job: bring fools like you."
Elder chuckled.
All eyes on him.
Leodorn knelt before the altar, trembling at the statue's gaze.
"O... ooooh...!"
"Show reverence. Our goddess, Lady Igra, the Dancer of Silence."
Elder intoned joyfully.
Igra: noseless, mouthless woman.
Staring eyes—uncanny.
Dark, murky aura swirled the surface.
"N-No..."
Leodorn's breath quickened.
Childhood memory: senior merchants' warning.
Merchants beware cults worshiping evil gods most.
Captured? Unthinkable horrors, soul ensnared.
Altar stained dark red, original color unknowable.
Elder spoke.
"Wait a bit. Igra loves children's screams most."
"Y-You bastards, not the kids too...!"
"Fetching them now. Big one's suspicious—curious her face on the altar."
Elder leered.
Could picture it under the sack.
He turned to the statue, hands clasped in prayer.
"Great Igra. We offer the first scream echoing in silence once more."
Whoosh! Torches flared in response.
Leodorn's face twisted in despair.
That Bran friend was a merchant, but poison? Useless.
Need a plan!
He wracked his foggy mind, groaning—
Screeeeech...
Eerie metal as the underground temple door opened.
"Ah. They're here."
Elder's face lit up.
Took longer than expected. Hope they didn't kill 'em?
About to ask—
Thwuk!
A dagger flew through the gap, piercing the elder's forehead.
"......?"
"What."
Thud. Elder toppled.
Leodorn and escorts froze. Unreal death.
Brow bubbled red where the dagger stuck.
"Perfect timing. Waited for prayer time."
Deep voice echoed.
All heads turned.
One caged boy stood at the chapel entrance.
Face bloodied. Club in hand.
Shimmer... Dawn light rippled along the club.
Bran spoke.
"Fair warning."
Mood foul. Worse in person. Trauma hits everyone.
Underground chapel of evil goddess Igra.
Skulls at his feet—mostly kids'.
Staring at a tiny shoe smaller than his palm, Bran eyed the villagers and finished.
"No one leaves alive."
Bang. Chapel door slammed shut.