Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Merchant (4)
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The Ironveil Mercenary Corps had been completely wiped out.
It hadn't even taken ten minutes.
The air was thick with the stench of blood.
Among the scattered corpses, it was hard to find one with all its limbs intact.
"Haa... haaa..."
Most of it was Ilrak's handiwork.
Having finished the slaughter, she stood atop her creations, breathing heavily.
Her hands, feet, and thick tail were dyed red, as if they'd been dipped in tomato stew.
"Tch, what a bunch of nobodies."
Steam rose from her body as the heat within vented out.
Suddenly, her eyes caught a man's head rolling on the ground.
"What the...? Isn't that Roberts?"
Ilrak's eyes widened round.
Lane Roberts, captain of the Ironveil Corps.
She'd wondered where he'd gone, but to think he'd already become a corpse.
"Bran. Did you take this guy down?"
"Yeah. Is he famous or something?"
"Kinda. He was the only one in this tin-can crew who could take more than two punches from me."
"Ah, that explains why he was tough."
There was a reason the system had certified him as a strong foe.
Lucky for Bran that he'd struck the vital spot in one blow. If the fight had dragged on, it would've been a harsh lesson.
He wouldn't have taken that gamble without his new sword, though.
"Your breathing's rough, Ilrak. You pushing yourself too hard?"
"Haa... Of course not. This is nothing."
Ilrak bared her teeth in a grin.
Unlike her confident expression, her voice carried a hint of fatigue.
It was the moment her critical weakness showed.
'As expected.'
Bran twisted his lips.
It was a trait that showed up in the game too.
Ilrak's character had explosive burst damage but poor sustain.
If you had to classify her position, she was a close-range nuker.
Like a supercar with performance inversely proportional to fuel efficiency.
It was the chronic issue that frustrated players who started with her as their playable character.
Of course, Bran knew the fix.
"Ilrak. Ever thought about using a weapon?"
"Huh? A weapon?"
Ilrak's eyes narrowed.
It was a sensitive reaction, unlike her usual brush-offs.
"Ha! My whole body is a weapon. Why would I carry some cumbersome junk?"
"But it could make fights more decisive and quicker."
"No thanks. You ever see a dragon swinging a sword or shooting a bow? I'm good like this."
Thud. Her heavy tail slapped the ground in irritation.
I knew it'd be like this.
He hadn't really expected her to agree right away.
Ilrak had an unusually severe complex about her dragonblood heritage.
Once her breathing steadied, Bran turned to Kael.
"Kael. No one else around?"
"Nope. I checked thoroughly."
Kael nodded vigorously.
His role in the fight had been to hide behind a large rock and keep watch.
No one had emerged from the warehouse while Bran and Ilrak swept the mercenaries.
"But it's weird. No one comes out after all this commotion..."
"They might be pretending not to notice, waiting to ambush us when we enter."
"Eek...!"
Kael shrank back.
Of course, that possibility was slim.
He couldn't sense any presence inside the warehouse strong enough for that.
Crack. Ilrak stopped at the warehouse door, twisting her neck side to side in a stretch.
"Whatever's in there, we smash it. Let's go."
Her bronze forearm bulged.
She drove her fist into the warehouse's large door.
Kwaaaang!
Both iron doors flew off their hinges.
The chain wrapped around the handle snapped like cheap string.
The warehouse interior was silent.
The emptiness of a vast, abandoned space hung in the air.
The three exchanged glances and charged inside.
"What the..."
They froze.
No Leodorn, no poison-dagger assassins lunging at them.
What awaited was a scene fit for a temple to some vile evil god.
Ilrak spat a curse.
"Fuck, what the hell is all this!?"
"Urp."
Kael clamped a hand over his mouth.
The blood stench inside was thicker, more cloying than outside, stirring in the darkness.
Dozens of male and female corpses, folded in half, lay lined up in a row.
"Wh-who would do something like this...!"
Kael instinctively grabbed Bran's collar.
The folded bodies evoked a capital A.
Their faces pointed outward, making it all the more grotesque.
"Bad taste."
Bran clicked his tongue.
Beside the row of folded corpses stood another line of bodies in different poses.
A completely different manner of death. Unlike the others, no dismemberment or alteration.
Lying still with eyes open, they almost looked alive at a glance.
Ilrak spoke up.
"...These are the guys who kidnapped Leodorn."
"What?"
"I'm sure. I smell Leodorn on them."
Kael's eyes widened.
It wasn't unreasonable to look incredulous.
All twenty-three corpses were dressed like common Valkeros citizens.
"A few of these were at the kidnapping scene. I thought they were just bystanders..."
"Wh-why do something like this? Who did it?"
"No idea. Fuck, what kind of pervert...?"
Ilrak clenched her fists.
Whoever did it, the vibe was seriously bad.
Little decomposition meant the massacre had happened just hours ago.
'These traces...'
Bran had stayed silent the whole time.
He swore he'd seen corpses displayed like this before, but the memory wouldn't come.
As he groaned, struggling for the final puzzle piece, Kael's voice rang out.
"L-look here! Footprints!"
"Those bastards. Not even bothering to hide."
Bran finally recalled and turned.
Red footprints led to the basement stairs.
Ilrak sniffed and nodded.
"Yeah. Leodorn was dragged down there."
Destination set.
The three descended the stairs immediately.
A long corridor appeared. Water dripped somewhere.
Blood, mold, damp humidity.
The dank underground stench hung in the air.
"Connected to the Red Mountains."
Bran muttered.
Designed to move resources straight from the mountains, probably.
The deeper they went, the more it turned into a natural cave. Concrete gave way to stalactites and stone pillars.
How long had they walked?
Turning a corner, their view opened to a massive underground cavern.
"This place...!"
All three halted.
Vast as if the warehouse had been sunk underground whole.
Shaaaaaaa-!
A waterfall poured from a hole in the far wall.
Glowing moss like in the Underground Farm covered walls and ceiling.
Too flashy for mere interrogation.
As Ilrak lifted her head to track Leodorn's scent again...
"I-Ilrak! Over there!"
"What?"
Kael suddenly pointed excitedly.
Ilrak turned and froze.
Far off, an emaciated old man was bound to a stalagmite by the waterfall.
"My god, Leodorn?!"
Ilrak shouted, but no reply came.
Bran's eyes widened.
No doubt about it—Leodorn.
His chained body was battered beyond recognition.
One arm twisted unnaturally, face swollen unrecognizably.
His travel clothes were now tattered rags.
Bran's heart sank.
Were they too late? Then Leodorn groaned faintly.
"...Ugh."
"Ha, fuck."
Bran exhaled in relief.
At least he was breathing.
But his condition looked dire; they needed to rescue him fast.
"Hang on! I'll get you out right now!"
Ilrak yelled.
Her sturdy thighs bulged.
Quite a distance, but a couple leaps would close it.
As her tensed body launched forward, Bran's eyes widened.
"Ah...!"
The puzzle clicked.
The warehouse corpses flashed through his mind like lightning.
Where he'd seen it, who made it.
Why the bodies were posed that way—all of it.
And no one guarding Leodorn.
Chills ran down Bran's spine.
"Wait, Ilrak!"
Danger.
By the time he shouted, Ilrak was already airborne.
Her face twisted with urgency, guilt, and rage.
Bam! She landed like a cannonball in the cavern's midpoint.
One more jump to go.
As she prepared to leap toward her unfinished mission...
Shlick.
A red line appeared above Ilrak's left thigh.
"Wha...?"
Ilrak's eyes widened.
Splurt!
Blood burst from the gash.
Not deep, but burning pain followed.
Ilrak looked down urgently.
Two gleaming eyes stared up from her feet.
A woman in a black mask crouched, gazing at her.
"Ah. Busted."
The woman murmured.
Her small frame had delayed detection.
Her tiny face showed no emotion.
Slender, reed-like hands gripped curved daggers.
Ilrak's blood glistened on the blades.
"You little—fuck!"
Ilrak kicked.
The woman dodged with a casual shoulder roll, but the tail whipped in right after.
"Eep."
The woman flattened to the ground.
The steel-whip tail traced a wide arc.
Crack!
Some hair that couldn't keep up exploded against it.
A split-second later and it'd have been her head, but her eyes showed no tremor.
She sprang up the instant the tail passed and backed away.
In a blink, she'd opened thirty paces, murmuring at Ilrak.
"Tough hide. Couldn't cut deep."
"Kuhahaha! Doesn't matter! That's plenty!"
A booming laugh echoed from somewhere.
A chilling timbre like Ilrak's roar.
Kwaaaang!
A massive shadow landed before Ilrak.
"Greetings! Daughter of Zarheim!"
"Fuck, who the hell are you?!"
A hulking wolf beastman.
His body was covered in long, fiery red fur.
Claws longer than daggers were flecked with what looked like human flesh.
Next to catch the eye: armor wrapping his upper body.
At its center, a fist-sized orb pulsed deeply embedded.
"I am Jerban. Glad I took that woman's offer. Never dreamed I'd clash with you!"
"Jerban?"
Ilrak's eyes widened. She'd heard the name.
Suddenly, the wolf beastman thrust his arm.
Kwaaaang!
Lightning-fast claws seized Ilrak's face and slammed her down.
"Guhk...!"
"Sturdy indeed! Half-dragon, are ya?!"
Jerban's mouth split to his ears.
Unlike previous foes, he showed no fear facing Ilrak.
"Keep pushing your luck...!"
But Ilrak wasn't one to take it lying down.
Grabbing his right arm, she smashed her tail into the ground.
Bam!
With the boom, her body surged free.
As she flipped backward, her rising tail smashed Jerban's face.
"Grahk!"
Jerban staggered.
Broken teeth sprayed with saliva.
Ilrak landed lightly and growled.
"Why are the Iron Blood Twin Shadows here?"
A name known to any blade-for-hire in Valkeros and vicinity.
Iron Blood Twin Shadows.
A two-man mercenary and crime duo: red wolf beastman Jerban and human woman Bellan.
Just two, yet their legend reached the capital.
Rumor had it they'd left Valkeros after banishment.
Jerban spoke.
"Haha, the White Silver Pine woman offered big money. Got bored holed up in the Red Mountains anyway. Crime label cuts down visitors, y'know."
"So the rumor about leaving the city was bullshit... You did the warehouse bodies too?"
"Oh, you saw? Like 'em?"
The culprits behind the warehouse carnage revealed.
Jerban laughed.
"Figured if we're killing 'em, might as well make art. Part of the job to clean up once they brought the target."
"Ah. I did half."
Bellan raised a hand quietly.
Ilrak scowled.
The exec boiling hunting dogs alive was crazy, but hiring the Twin Shadows made her sane? Nope.
"Konnauk will have you next."
"Kuhaha! Maybe! Sounds fun, right?!"
"Psycho."
"Then let's keep playing! Not tired already, are ya?"
Jerban kicked off the ground toward her.
"Huh?! Ilrak!"
The orb in his armor glowed.
Five claw-blades flew at Ilrak's face.
"Cocky bast—!"
Ilrak gritted her teeth.
Her pupils narrowed vertically in full combat mode.
She'd taken a few hits from surprise, but this wasn't unbeatable.
Strength met strength.
She vowed to smash that furry head like a watermelon, thrusting her fist—
"Ugh?!"
Suddenly, her left leg went limp.
Like two of the ten lines controlling movement snapped.
"Damn it, of all times...!"
Bellan's earlier wound was the cause—no doubt.
Ilrak readjusted, but Jerban was already within three steps.
The wolf's maw bellowed.
"Die!"
"Kuh."
Ilrak gasped.
She'd eaten a solid hit.
Unlucky, and something might break.
As she braced— a small shadow lunged from Jerban's flank.
"You...!"
Ilrak's eyes widened.
Before she could speak, shadow and wolf collided.
Thudquaang!
A cavern-shaking explosion erupted.
The tangled forms separated, crashing apart.
Kagagak! Jerban skidded to a halt, narrowing his brows.
"What the hell now."
Pshh. Blood spurted from his right forearm.
A razor cut sliced through muscle.
Hadn't twisted away, it would've hit bone.
A tongue-click echoed nearby.
"Tch, didn't sever it."
Jerban turned to see a boy gripping a longsword.
A human boy he'd sensed but dismissed as room-fodder.
Bran smirked.
"Soft punches for such a big guy."
"What?"
Jerban scowled.
Lie, of course. Brutal fist.
The midair gut punch still shook his insides.
A sincere ambush, yet he'd reacted.
Messages mocked his bravado.
You endured a shock beyond physical limits. Tenacity of the Weed activates!
Muscle strength and mental fortitude growth rates rise slightly.
High mental fortitude nullifies status ailment 'Confusion'!
No backing down now.
First thought was doom, but it could be a boon.
The "big one before the Steel Tower" he'd mentioned to Kael after Deep Abyss contact? The Iron Blood Twin Shadows.
'Didn't expect to run into them here. Good luck or bad?'
Future's unpredictable.
Didn't think Chloe-or-Clovis-or-whoever hired them.
Original plan: ambush their Red Mountains hideout.
Poison or bombs first for damage, then fight. Now, frontal assault only.
'Fuck. Definitely bad.'
Even with Ilrak, tough.
Top-tier boss around here.
85% game over for first-timers, 50% for veterans—Valkeros nightmare.
Yet challengers persisted for the hidden piece.
Jerban retorted.
"Hey, 'soft punch'—that for me?"
"Who else?"
Couldn't lose momentum.
Not to a 2m+ steroid furry.
Male fights end when one tucks tail.
Bran gripped his sword hilt two-handed, growling at Jerban.
"Come at me, mutt."