Chapter 52
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Weed's Pack
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#52
"Weeds do not grow alone."
"You can form a pack with comrades bound by deep ties."
I never saw this coming.
Who would've thought the second unique trait would unlock here of all places.
▶ Bran
▶ Kael
▶ Ilrak Zarheim
It wasn't structurally odd.
Most unique traits grow alongside the playable character.
They unlock hidden effects one by one as levels rise or conditions are met.
Still, this felt way too sudden.
I'd thought securing the achievement skill Indomitable had already made Valkeros worth every bit of effort.
The following effects are acquired permanently.
And unlike Tenacity of the Weed, this new trait's effects didn't end in a single line.
"Weeds grow tougher the more their roots tangle."
▶ Pack members' stats and skill growth speeds rise slightly.
▶ Each member's highest stat provides an additional growth bonus to the entire pack.
Laid out at length, it was surprisingly easy to read.
Bran let out a hollow chuckle as he scanned the description.
"This is insane."
"W-What came over you all of a sudden?"
"Just talking to myself, Kael."
The shock had made him curse out loud.
A growth speed buff—even if slight—was irreplaceable.
And like Tenacity of the Weed, it had no upper limit.
It meant the peak potential Bran valued most was rising on a party-wide scale.
The growth bonus effect was impressive too.
▶ Mental Power:Bran
▶ Divine Power:Kael
▶ Muscle Strength:Ilrak Zarheim
An effect that boosted the whole pack's presence.
Among the stats they all grew in, those three rose especially fast.
No overlaps, and all primary stats to boot.
I didn't know the exact bonus amount, but it demanded a deep bow of gratitude.
Pop!
A second effect popped up right after.
"Every patch has its leader."
▶ You can detect pack members' growth.
▶ The 'Weed's Pack' trait strengthens each time the pack reaches growth milestones.
I loved the second clause.
A trait that grew stronger as party members leveled up.
It fit perfectly with Return Lord's theme: no point in solo excellence.
'What a growth-obsessed character. True to concept.'
The first clause was harder to grasp, though.
Detect growth? What did that mean?
Was it handing me a status window or something? Right as he wondered—
Ilrak Zarheim's skill, [Heat Control], has reached its proficiency milestone.
Ready for the next stage!
A notification in a format he'd never seen before.
"Fuck."
"B-Bran? You okay?"
Kael recoiled in shock, but Bran couldn't help it.
Anyone would curse in his shoes.
The green window—like a weed—listed not his info, but a comrade's.
'Perfectly timed.'
This was unprecedented.
His wish to track comrades' growth had come true.
Not a full status screen he could pull up anytime, but it was enough.
It meant he could time their growth.
Sure enough, he'd gotten stronger.
No wonder clearing the secret lab's third floor had felt too easy.
Current Weed's Pack capacity: 4 members
That message closed out the explanations.
Bran's lips slowly curved upward.
"...This is killer."
Dopamine crept in past the initial shock.
A power with endless utility.
He could now raise his already talented crew faster and more strategically.
"Ilrak. Thanks for your dedication to Valkeros."
"Hmph, it was nothing."
The medal ceremony was nearing its end.
Ilrak's Steel Medal gleamed on his chest.
He played it cool, but his wagging tail gave him away.
"Everyone. My thanks."
The lord finished awarding Steel Medals to the group and returned to his seat.
The boisterous crowd quieted.
The blazing sunset painted every face crimson.
"And with that..."
As the emcee began wrapping up—
"Ugh!"
A spike drilled into Bran's brain.
A familiar sensation. Vision warped.
Soon, a wholly different scene unfolded before him.
'This place...'
Bran wandered ruined streets.
The evening breeze felt desolate.
Everything in sight lay shattered and scorched.
Not a rat stirred on the sunset boulevard.
He looked up. Amid the city, one structure stood intact.
A steel pillar, most of its surface melted, yet unbowed.
[That's the Steel Tower I've only heard about.]
A gruff voice came from beside him.
A man in tattered military uniform stood there.
[City of fire and steel, was it...? Hard to believe looking at it now.]
A stranger.
Bran glanced down. He wore the same filth-streaked uniform. A rusted helmet at his side.
A rare glimpse into the Nameless Hero's memories.
'Fallen Valkeros.'
No longer a slave, he was a soldier now.
Likely during a mission after escaping arrow-fodder duty.
The exact time unclear, but outer god forces had swelled.
- Grrruuuk.
- Kiirururu...
Proof prowled the boulevard's end.
Tentacled abominations circled the Steel Tower.
Otherworldly horrors mingled with former citizens.
The man asked,
[A bit many. Pull back?]
Shing.
The Nameless Hero gripped his sword hilt instead of answering.
The battered blade caught the sunset, gleaming.
The uniformed man chuckled dryly.
[Damn fool.]
He drew his own sword.
[Fine. Let's do it.]
[Weird, right? Feels like we'll never die with our squad leader around.]
Another voice joined.
More figures behind him now.
[I-I get that vibe sometimes...]
[Fuck yeah. He kills 'em all before we even move. Wonder why the Imperial Knights didn't snag talent like that.]
Six total, including the Nameless Hero.
Curiously, two soldiers' speech patterns evoked Kael and Ilrak.
The Hero said nothing, but trust radiated from him.
The kind that made you think you could do anything together.
The spearwoman bellowed,
[Alright! Clear 'em quick and move!]
The Nameless Hero donned his side helmet.
Sounds muffled. City and sky vanished.
Through the narrowed slits, only enemies to fell.
Thud!
He charged with his squad—
"Gasp."
Bran's vision snapped back.
First in view: the bustling metropolis sprawling beneath the Steel Tower.
Worlds apart from the Hero's sight.
The lord asked,
"Bran. You alright?"
"...Yeah."
Subjective time aside, little had passed.
His heart raced faster than usual, but no issue.
The usual abrupt flashback.
But he knew why this memory now.
Kael and Ilrak stared, worry dripping from their eyes.
Bran glanced back with a wry smile and nod.
"More than alright."
The road's too rough to walk alone, after all.
Time to build a fine pack of my own.
The Steel Medal ceremony ended splendidly.
Bran's late fit passed as minor happenstance.
Too good to disband right away, a small afterparty formed atop the Steel Tower.
"So, Kael. Hero of the city—your thoughts?"
"Uh, still sinking in."
"Hoho. When you get the chance, stroll Valkeros with that Steel Medal on. Folks'll swoon and topple. Here, you'll rank with the nine great houses' heads."
Leodorn stroked his beard, chuckling.
Not wrong.
In-game, Steel Medals maxed favor with most Valkeros NPCs.
Valued even elsewhere.
Gold and citizenship too—solid reward.
"Lord Bran... *hic*... No plans to stay in the city?"
Vilmois asked abruptly.
A hefty tin beer mug in hand.
Slurred speech—he'd indulged after ages.
Clink.
Bran toasted back and shook his head.
"Got prior commitments."
"Sigh... Shame. Figured as much."
Vilmois smiled bitterly.
Bran felt the same.
Without damn outer gods, he'd lounged here a year easy.
"But I won't block a hero's path! Call on this Vilmois anytime you need."
"No worries, Vilmois. I'll hit you up for sure."
Bran would never initiate contact.
Top-tier blacksmiths like him were rare continent-wide.
Prime contact for rare materials mid-adventure.
A familiar voice cut in.
"Everyone. I'll take my leave here."
"Freude."
Freude stood there.
Straight-backed, hands clasped—ever elegant.
Kael and Ilrak looked baffled.
"A-Already?"
"What? Wasn't today your day off?"
"Slipped out briefly. Can't stay longer, much as I'd like..."
Freude trailed off.
Regret tinged her voice—affection grown.
Bran greeted her.
"Thanks. You helped huge."
"My pleasure. Glad you put it to good use."
Couldn't thank her enough.
The plan to catch Silien hinged on borrowing her artifact.
Without it, win rate from ~5% would've dipped under 1%.
Clap.
Freude snapped her fingers, recalling something.
"Oh. Master left a message for you, miss."
"Huh? Alto?"
"Yes. I'll relay verbatim to preserve intent."
Something ominous.
Ahem. Ahem.
Freude cleared her throat and burst into mad laughter.
"Kuhahaha! Heard the news, Ilrak!"
"Eek."
"Pity I missed you groveling for honors from inferior stock! Such a rare sight of utter disgrace! A Steel Medal? Worthless scrap not fit for my lair's pebbles—how pitiful!"
Her acting had improved.
Onlookers stared, stunned, but she ignored them.
Back to poise in a flash, she bowed.
"That's it."
"...That's all? No congrats or anything?"
"No."
"Ha... That damn lizard prick."
Ilrak clenched his fist.
How many could call Flame Fist a lizard?
Finishing her performance, Freude pulled something from her apron pocket.
"And he said to pass this."
A red gem twinkled in her palm.
Ilrak tilted his head.
"What's that?"
"A pebble rolling in his lair."
"This fucker...!"
Veins bulged on Ilrak's forehead.
Dragons lived for ego, but this crossed lines.
Just as he nearly yelled to toss the damn rock—
"I'll make good use of it, Freude."
Bran thanked her swiftly.
Ilrak frowned.
"Bran?"
"Just take it."
Bran whispered.
If that's a pebble, gold's manure.
He pictured Alto pacing his lair, pondering gifts.
Ilrak sighed.
"Fine. Whatever."
"Wise choice."
Freude smiled as Ilrak pocketed it.
She knew what it was.
Useful for the whole group, not just him.
"For reference, Lord Bran and Lord Kael may use it too."
"For real?"
"Yes. Said a miss's friends should know better... His words, not mine."
"No misunderstanding here."
Destructive phrasing, but his thanks in dragon-speak.
What was with the tall dark uncle's antics?
Anyway, permission granted—time to use that crimson gem well.
Freude continued,
"If I may ask personally: where to next?"
"We'll figure it out step by step. But Cargai first, wherever we end up."
"Cargai? The Cursed Plateau?"
Bran nodded.
Ancient dragon, vast knowledge.
Freude's narrowed eyes widened, gold irises glinting.
"...Why?"
Her tone mixed displeasure and concern.
Made sense.
Cargai Plateau was more for the dead than living.
Mid-game hazard zone, even winged dragons skirted if unlucky.
Bran smiled.
"Got a friend there."
He didn't know me, but that hardly mattered.
The final ceremony message lingered:
Current Weed's Pack capacity: 4 members
We're three for now.
No harm filling a good trait to capacity, right?