068. Tyrant King? I'm So Jealous.
“Hiya!”
Zain spurred his galloping horse onward. The warhorse quickened its pace with labored breaths. Two well-trained soldiers followed close behind—expert riders, all of them. They were chasing the carriage up ahead.
The carriage, which had set out at dawn, had finally reached the vicinity of Akinzrow Gorge.
“It looks like they're heading up to the treacherous path along the gorge!”
But the carriage didn't descend into the gorge below. Of course not—if it did, Zain and his men would catch up in no time.
“Madness. Do they have a death wish?”
Yet the rugged road along the gorge's edge was just as perilous. Zain furrowed his brow.
Oliver, that hunter.
It had to be that man's idea. Shaking off pursuers with just two horses was impossible. The fact they'd nearly caught up to a group that left much earlier proved it. Oliver was betting on this showdown too.
That's when it happened. Zain couldn't believe his eyes. Someone poked their head out the carriage window. There was no mistaking her. The girl with an excessive curiosity about monsters. The lively little noble lady who dreamed of becoming a hero or hunter—hardly fitting for her station.
Lania Grayrim was peering back at Zain, who trailed behind. Their eyes met. Zain gritted his teeth.
In that instant, one of the riders beside him raised a crossbow. Zain barely managed to smack the soldier's shoulder.
Ting!
The bolt whizzed past Lania's face, grazing the air right beside her. Someone yanked her back inside. Zain exploded in fury.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?!”
“Ah, no... I...”
The rider looked flustered in turn.
“The knights said to kill if they didn't comply...”
“...”
He wanted to snap that this hardly qualified as non-compliant, but held back.
“I'll decide whether to kill or capture.”
Zain glared at the carriage.
“Stop it before the path narrows. I'll take the left; you two, the right.”
They spurred their horses faster. White foam dripped from the horses' mouths. Riding this hard risked both mount and rider, but now was the time to take chances.
Eventually, Zain and his men caught up to the carriage.
“Whoa!”
The driver swerved right in a panic. One soldier, dodging, tumbled from his horse. But the other leaped onto the driver's seat, grappling with the man.
As they struggled, Zain vaulted onto the carriage. He clung on, reaching for the door—only for someone inside to kick it open.
Zain nearly rolled off the moving carriage but grabbed the door to save himself. Then, from the window gap, a sword thrust out.
He twisted away, but his cheek tore open.
“Kuh...!”
Zain was a trained knight. With startling speed, he climbed atop the carriage. The sword-wielder matched him, leaping up just as swiftly.
It was Oliver, of course.
“Come for your grave, Sir Knight? Fall into Akinzrow Gorge, and the wild dogs won't even leave a corpse.”
“Hand over Lady Lania, hunter.”
Zain and Oliver had once cared for Lania together. Now they faced off, blades drawn.
Zain's eyes gleamed. Even a monster-hunting expert couldn't match a knight. But Oliver looked utterly confident.
“Won't tell you to scram. You wouldn't listen anyway.”
Oliver smirked. Zain couldn't underestimate this hunter. From the start, he coated his sword in aura.
It was the right call. The moment Oliver drew from his coat—
Five daggers exploded outward.
Ting ting ting!
Three deflected by his sword. Two blocked by his armor. The daggers hit heavy.
Oliver drew a slightly larger shortsword from his belt.
Kakakakang!
Longsword and shortsword clashed in midair. But Oliver held his own. His blade shimmered with brilliant light—aura, unmistakably.
Zain's eyes widened.
“A master like you... wasting away as a frontier hunter?”
One exchange revealed Oliver's skill.
“Master? You're overrating me, Sir Knight. Or underrating yourself.”
“You...”
Zain flushed as he opened his mouth—only for Oliver to lunge with a front kick. A surprise strike at his guard. A blade shot from the shoe's tip, aiming for Zain's throat.
Thud!
The carriage jolted violently—perhaps over a rock. It saved Zain's life.
He swung back.
Chaeng! Cheng!
Blades met. Even on the shaking carriage, their duel raged.
Thud—boom!
But the carriage bucked too wildly to continue. Zain gasped—the soldier wrestling the driver had tumbled off behind.
“Damn it!”
Oliver cursed first. He ignored Zain, diving back inside.
“Lady, into my arms!”
Zain glanced at the driver's seat. The man slumped lifeless, eyes wide open. A sword pierced his side, blood pouring.
The horses bolted wildly, unaware. And this was the cliff-edge road over the gorge.
One misstep...
Thud!
The carriage lifted into the air. Then—impact. It plummeted, dragging everything with it.
All Zain could do was clutch an ornament atop the carriage. Carriage, two horses, three people—all tumbled into Akinzrow Gorge below.
* * *
Nom nom. Ah, delicious.
These nameless mountain bird eggs were nutty as hell. The Monster Wave showed no signs of stopping. Breaks were brief; our advance blistering.
At my old speed, crossing the Great Forest would've taken ages. Not anymore.
That basin to the east looked like Akham Basin. We'd made it in just two days.
The root chimera I clung to wasn't some ordinary monster. Snake-shaped, but woody. Even Gunter's halberd scar on its face had regrown with stems. It barely ate or shat.
Problem was me.
Keep this up, and I'll starve or die of thirst.
I needed to halt the chimera for hunts. And I succeeded.
Simple method: like training a cat with a laser pointer, spin it in place. After a while, it'd pause, dizzy. That's when I ate.
Today's meal: five eggs from a nest. Transparent Hand to fetch, poke holes, slurp.
Done quick, the chimera snake rose again. It never rested long except sleep.
What was outside the Great Forest that drove it so?
A breeze brushed my face.
Feels leisurely.
The grotesque monsters roaring around me, occasional soldiers and fires—I'd adapted. Full belly, nice weather; felt like a picnic.
Living like this ain't bad.
Don't whine in hardship—that's third-rate. Laugh—that's first-rate. I decided to first-rate this.
—Think of it as a trip.
'Then this is prime seating.'
Familiarity breeds normalcy, even with wonders. Bored, I used the downtime.
—Bored? Train magic.
Pellelian's idea. He offered lessons now. I'd have shrugged before, but agreed eagerly.
Blame those human mages' fire dragon. Epic. I wanted that. Pellelian scoffed.
—Enchanted by parlor tricks? Tz tsk... Inherit my teachings right, and you'd be an archmage.
—'Parlor tricks?' Those geezers looked badass.
Three varied mages, but total archmage vibe.
—Tower robes, but nothing special.
'Dungeon books said tower masters are elite...'
—Just born in my absence, mere mortals.
Couldn't deny his arrogance fired me up.
—Journey of a thousand miles starts with one step. Try Transparent Hand.
'Got it.'
Transparent Hand Lv7
Practice paid off; Transparent Hand leveled nicely.
—Hit that one. Max output.
A hairless boar charged ahead blindly.
I focused. In mental darkness, a hand appeared at my core. I swung.
Smack!
“Squeee!”
The boar whipped around at the butt smack, snorting mad. Saw only me and chimera. Bolted scared.
—That's Transparent Hand's real power.
'More training'll amp it, right?'
It'd grown stronger already; meatier sound than before.
—Reach mastery, dual hands possible. But raw force won't skyrocket. Telekinesis nature.
'Dual hands... Dual blades plus tail—three-way style...
—Seven magic swords!
I startled. Pellelian yelled.
Why?
—A magic exists wielding seven swords. Intriguing, eh?
'Y-yeah... intriguing.'
—Same vein as Transparent Hand: telekinesis manipulation. Foe blocks seven living swords swarming.
Sounded tasty. Ultimate mastery—beyond skill, into art, the Way.
—Want it?
'Yes.'
—Become a telekinetic whistling down armies!
'Yes!'
—Train seriously then. Start with Lightweight.
Time to be eager student. Or he'd sour more.
—Lightweight mastery is telekinesis basics. Grip a sword heavy? Mana waste. Lighten first...
Pellelian taught well. I spent the idle journey learning.
Time passed. I fully exited Great Forest into Siza Forest.
My birthplace. Tempted to check the cave, but whoosh—passed it.
Soon, human territory appeared.
'Grayrim,' right?
Protective walls crumbled. No people. Monsters swept through first.
Chimera and I would pass soon too.
Then—
'That a goblin?'
Among flank monsters, a bipedal standout: little goblin. Mindless like others, drooling confirmed.
—Seems so.
'From Runga tribe?'
—Think I'd remember goblin faces?
Of course not. I tried waking it.
Transparent Hand Lv8
Smack!
Lv8 now; slapped its cheek.
“Kyak!”
Goblin startled. Tried running; I doused its head with water magic. It snapped to.
“Hah, huff! Wh-what?!”
Runga dialect. Oblivious to horde? Turned to me—unfamiliar face, yet recognized.
“U-Uroboros!”
Uroboros. But weird suffix.
“Th-the evil serpent of Runga!”
What?!
Goblin fled panicked. But escaping horde? Impossible. I'd have first.
Ray Lv1
Chimera chased Ray perfectly.
Boom!
Smashed front monsters to pulp on landing. I parked skillfully.
'Hey, which goblin tribe? You know me?'
Goblin didn't get snake-speak. Missed Nanaruk today.
'Nanaruk doing well?!'
“Waaah!”
Tried fleeing again.
—Grab it!
Transparent Hand snagged its bound hair. Nobody fights well hair-pulled.
“Ow ow, hurts!”
Hated losing hair; came willingly. Tough, but got goblin atop chimera—my front.
It trembled terrified. Satisfying.
'Spill everything you know.'
Goblin groveled, babbling. Conquered by Runga tribe. Dead ex-chief's kid.
I seemed Runga's guardian deity. Then—unignorable words.
“Tyr, Tyrant King Nanaruk already left Great Forest. Our tribe too...”
'Tyrant King?!'
Jaw dropped. When'd Nanaruk snag that badass title? Jealous. So jealous.
'So she left first?'
Goblin clueless to my words; full answers'd take time.
Then—
Kwaaaaang!
Explosion rocked the territory ahead. Distant, yet heatwave hit. Oil scent in hot wind.
Stopped chimera or we'd be caught. Calming shock—
“Eeeek, mercy!”
Captured goblin flattened, shaking.
Wasn't me.