Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Gale (3)
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Retunir Kingdom.
A small, impoverished nation built in the barren wasteland at the northwestern edge of the continent.
Its economy and military were both lackluster, but astonishingly, it was one of the few monarchies that hadn't fallen under imperial rule.
'Now I remember. It was a place with some pretty interesting lore.'
The secret lay in the powerful relic that Retunir possessed.
The relic, luckily discovered by an exploration team, became an asymmetric force that exacted a massive toll on any invaders, eliminating any reason for the empire—who had always viewed Retunir as dubious value—to bother invading.
But whether that discovery had truly been a stroke of luck for Retunir was worth questioning.
'What a trash king. He's probably still on the throne, huh?'
The king had begun squandering national resources in pursuit of even stronger relics.
Funds meant for developing farmland went to organizing exploration teams, and money earmarked for welfare bought intel and weapons instead.
All because he believed there was some overwhelmingly powerful relic out there somewhere on the continent that could turn everything around.
As a result, Retunir's exploration teams boasted equipment and scale rivaling full military units.
'Bunch of coin-chasing idiots.'
Honestly, it rubbed him the wrong way.
Their mindset was rotten to the core.
Artifact supremacy—wagering the nation's fate solely on relics!
It reminded him of a certain pig-ruled country, and that probably wasn't just his imagination.
Anyway.
"They sure built this place flashy."
Bran whistled as he caught sight of the Retunir exploration team's campsite.
As a team the kingdom had gone all-in on, its scale was impressive.
At least ten tents for twelve people each.
A large tent presumed to serve as field headquarters stood at the center.
With departure imminent, armed men bustled about the camp.
Who would've thought something like this was hidden right next to that rocky mountain.
It offered a much better view of the king's pavilion than Bran's previous spot.
"Whoa, there's a ton of them..."
"Heh, looks fun to smash."
"Lord have mercy. Of all things, Retunir."
The party chimed in one by one.
Venden clutching his head suggested they were infamous in this line of work.
The sentries who spotted Bran drew their swords.
"Halt! Who goes there!"
The tension was obvious, given the location.
Guess it wasn't entirely elite troops.
"Ilrak."
"Yup."
At Bran's signal, Ilrak stepped aside.
The prisoners hidden behind her massive frame came into view.
Seven team members roped together like a train.
They looked unharmed but pale as ghosts.
The sentries gasped upon locking eyes with the man at the front.
"V-Vice Captain?!"
"...Step aside. I need to see the Captain."
The vice captain hung his head low.
Ever since Ilrak had cracked his ribs, his spirit was completely broken.
"But...!"
"They're here for the king's relic, just like us cursed souls. The captain will decide everything, so shut up and move."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The sentries backed off.
As the group entered the camp, every eye turned their way.
No one tried to stop them, but murmurs of "How'd they end up like that?" rippled everywhere.
The vice captain gritted his teeth and muttered.
"...You'll regret this."
His face was tomato-red.
He must've been dying of shame.
But that wasn't Bran's problem.
Smack!
Bran smacked the back of his head.
"Ugh!"
"Just walk, you punk. All talk and no swing after getting caught without a fight."
Motor-mouths were always trouble.
The group crossed the camp and stopped before the massive tent.
The vice captain spoke.
"Captain. It's me."
"Come in."
A curt reply came.
The group entered and let out quiet exclamations.
Bigger and roomier than any tent they'd seen.
Bran's guess that it was the ops center was spot on.
"The pavilion moves soon. We have to start before the moon's phase shifts."
"Beacons ready?"
"No issues. Soon as the infiltration team heads out, we'll lure the cavalry."
Team members in crisp uniforms debated over a large map.
Their organized efficiency stood in stark contrast to Bran's ragtag crew.
They'd just followed Venden's bio-radar.
'That's the captain.'
The captain was unmistakable, sporting a red feather in his cap.
A burly middle-aged man with impressive arm tattoos.
He looked up from the map.
"Vice captain. What kept you so la—"
He froze.
His patrol team stood in beggar rags, lined up.
Bran and Ilrak stood arms crossed, relaxed.
The captain spoke.
"What is this?"
"...My apologies."
"I didn't ask you."
"S-Sorry, sir."
The captain growled, and the vice captain bowed deeper.
Silence fell over the murmuring tent.
The captain swept a hand over his face and turned to Bran.
"You there."
A face he hadn't seen in a while.
If memory served, a 4-star Rigid Body Technique expert.
Purely technical skill rivaled Iron Blood Twins' Jerban.
Name was Mordun? Murdin? Couldn't recall.
"Yeah?"
"Why are my men like that?"
"They lacked manners, so I educated them. Drew swords outta nowhere and told us to follow."
Still sounded fishy on second thought.
Bran glanced back; the prisoners flinched.
"Heard you're after the king's relic too? Figured we could collaborate."
"Don't value your life?"
Shing!
His words barely out, the team drew weapons.
Kael and Venden freaked, but Bran didn't budge.
"That's what I wanna ask you, big guy."
No reason to.
Bran tapped his hilt and murmured low.
"You sure about this?"
Confidence would hurt both sides.
Ilrak's excited heartbeat was growing louder.
The team's faces twisted.
"Ha! What're you babbling about, brat?"
"Captain, let me handle this trash..."
"Shut it."
"...Y-Yes?"
The startled team members clammed up.
The captain eyed Bran's group one by one.
Suddenly, a faint smile crept onto his lips.
"You guys... not bad."
His tone noticeably relaxed.
He strode forward, offering a handshake.
"Introductions first. I'm Urdin, captain of Retunir's 2nd Exploration Team."
"Ah, Urdin. Kept mixing it up."
"Hm?"
"Nothing. I'm Bran."
Bran shook his hand.
Good thing Urdin could read people.
If he'd blustered like the vice captain, they'd all be plateau ghosts.
"Fellow pros, so no bullshit. You look capable—why seek us out?"
"To boost our odds."
"Odds?"
"Fate brought us together; might as well team up. The king's pavilion ain't easy for you or us."
"Heh. Better than some vice captain who ended up a prisoner acting cocky."
The bowed vice captain twitched.
Urdin chuckled and continued.
"Vice captain, you're on lure duty now, not infiltration. Head to the beacon and await orders."
"...Understood."
"No third mistakes. Get it right."
Firm command.
Bran signaled Ilrak to release them.
The seven, vice captain included, shuffled out weakly.
Bran raised a brow.
"Separate infiltration and lure teams, huh. Beacons to gather the cavalry?"
"Yeah. Packed with ghost-luring poison herbs. If beacons fail, riders with torches draw their eyes."
Come to think of it, he'd seen tall firewood stacks near camp.
Ghost-callers like pallbearer grass or wailflowers.
Simple but effective strategy, piling them for beacons.
Money and numbers made it easy.
"Won't deny it's tough. How do we team up?"
"Pull four from infiltration; slot us in. Lure the cavalry right, and we'll punch through to the pavilion."
Skipped the peskiest part.
Infiltration team got utility too.
Urdin grunted.
"Not hard. Pros like you helping infiltration benefits us."
"Perfect."
"But remember this: 90% of the king's treasure is ours."
"What?"
Ilrak frowned.
Urdin pressed on undeterred.
"Obvious. We've invested way more time and coin. Take what's left after we claim our share."
"Sure. Deal."
Bran agreed readily.
Venden's face twisted in confusion.
"H-Hey, Bran?"
"Good. And don't think of sneaking extras. Especially if you find the king's bow—report to me and the team immediately."
"Bow, got it."
Bran nodded.
Internally flipping him off, of course.
Kid knew the good stuff.
Urdin smiled satisfied.
"Good. Ops in three hours—rest up."
"Will do."
"Use camp supplies freely. Glad to find like-minded allies."
Urdin returned to the ops table.
Thud.
Bran flopped onto the tent's sofa after looking around.
"Ahh, so plush."
Now he got the glam camping hype.
Made exploring tempting.
Suddenly, Venden whispered close.
"Bran...! What the hell? Why grovel all of a sudden?!"
"Obviously 'cause I ain't planning to honor that deal any more than a chick's asshole."
"What."
"They won't either. Soon as they feel safe, they'll try killing us—no need to give even 10%. Everyone knows; it's just theater."
Adult deal, if anything.
Bran accepted to skip cavalry hassle, whatever.
Venden swallowed hard.
"R-Right... bold move."
"Relax. Once we're in the pavilion, I'll snag the king's undies if I want. Bows and such are obvious..."
Then it hit.
......
A faint tremor shook Bran's body.
He bolted upright and looked at Venden.
"Didn't the ground just shake a bit?"
"G-Ground? Didn't feel it..."
"I definitely felt it."
Bran's brow furrowed.
Venden seemed oblivious.
Only he and Ilrak scanned alertly.
Ilrak met his eyes and opened her mouth.
"Bran. Earlier..."
Before she finished.
Rumble...!
The ground quaked, shaking the tent.
Clear enough for all now.
Urdin and the team gaped.
Something pounding the earth grew closer.
"No way."
Chills crawled up Bran's neck.
He'd missed it amid vibrations, but a weird smell wafted in.
Incense-like, like at a funeral.
Whoosh!
Bran flung open the tent flap and froze.
"Lord have mercy."
"Th-That's...!"
Everyone froze.
The nearby beacon tower blazed in purple flames.
Incense poured from it. Sparks whipped wildly in the plateau winds.
Ghost-luring smoke soared into the night sky.
"Wh-Why is the beacon lit now?!"
The team panicked.
Per plan, it should've ignited after camp evacuated.
Dozens left in camp, including lure team, lay as corpses.
Vice captain too.
Shocking enough, but worse awaited.
Kael shrieked.
"Eek! Th-There!"
His white finger pointed north of the rocky mountain.
Eyes shifting from beacon locked there.
Thud thud thud thud thud!!!
The cursed cavalry surged.
Ghost riders on spectral horses crossed the plain like a white tide.
Thousands at least.
Each a great warrior from old Kargai legions.
"How...!"
"W-We must retreat now! Surrounded mountain means no escape!"
The team fell into chaos.
Cavalry closed fast.
Even veteran Urdin panicked stiff.
Needed to figure this mess.
Bran narrowed his eyes at the massacre site.
"...?"
He'd missed it before.
An arrow in the vice captain's forehead.
Only one amid dozens dead.
"What."
Bad feeling.
A strand of grayish-white hair tied to the arrow.
Pale like plateau ghosts.
"This...!"
Bran's eyes widened.
Familiar fluttering look.
Before he could yell to hide in the tent.
Thwip.
An arrow sliced the night, piercing a team member's temple.
"Uh."
"Gasp!"
Venden next to him freaked.
Thud.
The man toppled forward staggering.
Hair tied to this arrow too—eerie glow like underworld moon, not gray-white.
"Damn it, watch out!"
Bad.
As Bran yanked Venden back by the collar.
BOOM-!
Red cloud exploded from the arrow, engulfing the area.
Bran covered his mouth with his sleeve.
Wind dispersed it quick, but damage done.
"Gah!"
"Hurk, cough."
Several team members clutched throats and collapsed.
Those who'd inhaled the cloud.
Pop!
A translucent window appeared before Bran.
Warning! Plateau Viper's neurotoxin has entered your body.
The red cloud was potent neurotoxin.
From plateau vipers, monsters infesting Kargai Plateau.
Fierce poison that stole human lives in one breath.
High poison resistance nullifies damage!
But Bran didn't fall.
"...Spicy."
"B-Bran! You okay?!"
"Fine. Stay back. Never stand downwind."
Thanks to built-up resistance.
Still stung like snake venom.
Plant toxin wouldn't have prickled.
Ptoo.
Bran spat toxin and eyed the arrow's origin.
"Yeah. It was you."
Far off, atop the rocky mountain peak, a wolf stood.
A massive wolf like a wild horse.
Its rippling fur gleamed blue under moonlight.
"......"
The archer rode that wolf.
Clad in furs, deer-masked.
Skinny hands gripped a crude bow.
"...Wh-What's that? A person riding a wolf?"
"Impossible. Fired from that range?!"
The late-noticing team gaped.
Beyond arrow range.
Hard to even spot visually.
Bran waved at him.
"Hey, friend."
"...?"
The fiend flinched.
Couldn't grasp how Bran lived.
He should've joined the corpses.
Shing.
Bran drew his sword, lips curling.
"Finally met ya."
Even as cavalry tidal-waved in, joy overflowed.
Ultimate reason for this haunted land: meet that guy.
The gale tracking plateau entrants, Bran's sought-after friend.
And a playable character from Return Lord.
"Gotta do this much to join our crew."
The plateau barbarian who devoured enemy abilities.
