Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Werewolf
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The servant barely managed to spit out the words before lowering his head. No signs of life emanated from his body anymore. He had died from excessive blood loss.
"...Wolf?"
Confirming the servant's death, Edward mulled over his final words and drew his sword. Under normal circumstances, he would have scoffed at the idea of a wolf in the city, but hadn't he just heard a similar story from that guy not long ago?
A tale of serial murders and a perpetrator suspected to be a werewolf. He remembered it clearly.
"A werewolf, huh... I've never faced one before, but I suppose I have to deal with it here."
The presence of a magic beast inside the city—especially a high-risk one like a werewolf—was an extremely serious matter. Moreover, though it was a rare species not well-known, there were rumors that those killed by werewolves revived as werewolves themselves.
Even if he was currently consumed by jealousy, he was still a knight. A knight who held protecting the weak as his honor. With his longsword drawn, he slowly advanced into the alley.
"It's dark in here."
As he entered the alley, he felt a slight pang of dismay. It was only a few steps from the main street, yet it was far darker than it had appeared from outside. His senses expanded to their maximum in the darkness.
The stench of discarded filth by the roadside, the slick ground, the damp walls, and the thick smell of blood. The odor from the servant's spilled blood mixed with the filth, creating an indescribably repulsive stench.
And then, from the darkness, white claws gleaming brightly lunged toward him.
Clang-!
In an instant, sparks flew as the metal-like claws clashed with his sword, illuminating the alley.
"Werewolf..."
A silver-furred wolf stood before Edward. More precisely, a werewolf. Its body was human-shaped, but its head was that of a wolf, baring its teeth at him.
"Grrr..."
"To think it actually exists."
Even for Edward, this was his first time seeing a real werewolf, so he raised his sword with intrigued eyes. From what he'd heard, werewolf hide could block swords. It was just folklore, but such tales didn't spring from thin air. They were exaggerations built on kernels of truth.
So, even if it couldn't fully block blades like the stories claimed, it likely had tough hide that made swords hard to penetrate. With that thought, Edward assumed his stance. Regardless, this was a chance to make his name known once more.
"Graaa!"
The werewolf moved first. Its flexible leap and slashing claws were undoubtedly threatening, but...
Clang! Clang-clang!
Edward calmly parried the claws with his sword. It was an incredibly fast and powerful attack. Any ordinary soldier would have been killed without resistance. But it was slower and weaker than Kyle's swordsmanship.
"Damn it!"
Why did that guy's sword come to mind again? It was ridiculous, but as he blocked the werewolf's assault, the first thought in his head was the blade of the man he despised most. Spitting an uncharacteristic curse, he swung his sword.
Ching! Chaaang-!
The silver blade and white claws danced chaotically in the dark alley, scattering sparks. Even in darkness, he had trained in such conditions. His practice had not been in vain.
"Grrr..."
In just over a minute, dozens of exchanges had passed, and they entered a brief stalemate. The werewolf grimaced at how much stronger its opponent was than expected, while Edward frowned at the creature's tough hide.
During the clash, a fluid strike from low to high had sliced precisely under the werewolf's armpit, yet it felt like chopping a log with a sword. It hadn't cut deeply. Edward wondered if those outlandish tales might hold truth after all.
"Kieeak!"
The werewolf's claws thrust straight at his upper body. But Edward stepped forward instead, slipping smoothly inside the attack and thrusting his sword. A perfect counter.
Thud!
The longsword pierced its chest squarely, but the blade barely sank in past the first knuckle of his pinky. The incredibly tough hide refused to let the sword penetrate further.
Whack!
"Urk!"
Instead, Edward, who had closed in, was kicked by the werewolf and sent flying through the air nearly two or three meters. Barely regaining his balance to avoid tumbling into the filth, he grimaced.
"You monster..."
"Kekeke!"
As he took an unexpected hit, the werewolf let out a bizarre laughing sound. Edward scowled at it before scanning the surroundings. His eyes, now adjusted to the dark, revealed the alley in ruins.
His sword hadn't touched the walls, but they were shredded like rags. Claw marks scarred every spot the werewolf had raked.
As a knight, Edward hated to admit it, but those claws—whatever their material—surpassed ordinary swords in strength and sharpness. And that hide too.
"Hoo..."
But he wasn't an ordinary human. Swords not working? Ridiculous. He raised his sword again. Nothing in this world couldn't be cut by a blade. It was merely a matter of skill.
Edward's demeanor shifted subtly. No longer just a strong human, he emanated the sharpness of a honed blade as he took his stance.
Thousands? Tens of thousands? No, it wasn't something countable like that. From the age he could first hold a sword, until the sun rose and set, without rest—his strikes were forged in relentless training.
"Come at me, foul magic beast! I shall show you... what the sword of Cligrove is made of...!"
Though he couldn't use aura, he trusted his blade.
"Graaa!"
The werewolf charged. One step, two steps. Closing the distance in an instant with mere footfalls, it swung its claws to cleave Edward in two. At that moment, his sword descended straight toward the werewolf.
A perfect slash that the werewolf could neither dodge nor block.
Kagak-!
"Graaaak!"
A red line traced straight over the silver fur, like drawing on paper. Blood burst forth, splattering the alley. But without aura, his strike was shallow.
"Tch..."
Edward's blow succeeded in slicing the tough silver hide and drawing blood, but it wasn't lethal.
"Grrr..."
Still, it was enough to frighten a werewolf that had never been wounded before. It glanced at Edward with fearful eyes before turning and fleeing.
"...I'm still far from my peak."
He sheathed his sword. No point chasing; the werewolf was far too fast.
"Sir! Did you hear? Last night, Sir Edward's servant was killed by that thing!"
Word travels fast—even without legs, it covers a thousand miles. News of Edward's servant dying to the werewolf and his confrontation with it spread like wildfire. It came from the tavern owner's eyewitness account from inside the building.
"Sir Edward encountered it?"
Willum nodded at Kyle's question. The rumor had already blanketed the city.
"That's what they say! It was an incredible fight. Sparks flew from clashing swords in the alley, and the werewolf, with its face slashed, screamed and fled."
"Where did it happen?"
"At a tavern in the commercial district..."
At that, Willum's eyes widened as a sudden realization hit. The creature's range had expanded. And this time, it had even attacked Edward.
"This is bad. If it's moving this boldly already... it'll be hard to lure it out with bait."
The situation had turned into a real headache. They'd just planned to pinpoint and draw out its range, and now it was shifting. Kyle frowned, reexamining the map. The tavern where Edward was attacked was well outside their calculated range.
Looking at the map alongside him, Willum turned to Kyle.
"What now?"
"I need to think it over. For now, concentrate the guards in the commercial district to make it shrink its range back to the slums. I'll handle the rest."
If they focused guards on the commercial district while it had expanded its range, it would assume the slums were abandoned and get more active there. So Kyle thought.
"Brother, I've heard you've been chasing that thing lately... Didn't a noble get attacked recently? But it got the short end this time?"
That evening, Kyle clicked his tongue at Cutter's words.
"I've already heard. And the victim was Sir Edward, captain of the count's knight order."
"Ahem... I thought we'd scooped it up quick..."
Cutter awkwardly downed his drink. It wasn't all bad, though. Worsening public safety meant profit for mercenaries. Rumors were already swirling that the guild might get a werewolf subjugation request soon.
Creeeak-
At that moment, the tavern door opened, and a man entered. A scar ran in a straight line from beside his right eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. He scanned the room, strode in purposefully, and ordered a beer.
"New face."
Cutter tilted his head at the man while drinking. This tavern was a favorite among mercenaries, and he was a regular among regulars. He knew most faces by sight. But this newcomer was unfamiliar.
Muscular build, sharp-featured face, and a long scar across it. The wound didn't look old, but the man's great height made him stand out regardless.
"New face, huh?"
"Probably just some drifter rolling in. Dozens like him pour into this city daily. But that guy's built like he could handle himself, brother."
Cutter brushed it off, but this time Kyle's gaze shifted to the man.
'Height around late 170s. And that scar. Armed with... just a sword?'
Mercenaries didn't always wander in full armor. Lords generally disliked mercenaries roaming their castles or cities armed to the teeth.
So they restrained themselves. Unless war loomed or they had the lord's permission.
Thus, the man's attire wasn't particularly odd. Just a mercenary with a self-defense sword. But that wasn't why Kyle's attention was drawn.
"Doesn't feel like a mercenary."
There was an odd awkwardness about him for a mercenary. And those highly developed thighs. A trait seen in frequent riders.
At least Kyle could spot it at a glance. Anyone who'd mucked stables could. And...
"He reeks of horse."
A thick horse stench emanated from the man. Not something an ordinary person would notice, but clear to Kyle. The smell of beasts.
"Cutter, do me a favor."
He quietly called to Cutter.
"Good drinking."
Thud!
Francis was a wandering knight. But that was in the past; after losing a war and having all his gear confiscated, he was now just a mercenary. And not long ago...
While crossing a forest on a job as a mercenary, he spotted a silver-gleaming wolf.
A monster with a human body and wolf head. A werewolf. Of all the creatures from fairy tales, why encounter one alone? Facing the ferocious charge, Francis fought desperately but met his end at its claws.
"Urgh..."
When he awoke again, Francis didn't realize he'd died. He was just grateful to be alive. But soon after, he noticed the changes in his body.
The murderous urges at night, and the transforming body when he couldn't suppress them and killed. Initially despairing, he accepted reality and tried to restrain the impulses.
Though limits meant occasional kills. But as a former knight with brains, he could stage them to look like werewolf work. Targeting slums mostly. Growing bolder, he'd expanded to the commercial district yesterday, but...
"Damn it..."
Exiting the tavern, he grimaced at the pain on his face. First time extending to the commercial district, and he runs into a knight? And a damn strong one. As a former knight himself, he knew.
At least on par with a knight order captain. He figured.
"Hold it right there."
Then, someone called from behind. Turning, he saw a hulking man. Tall himself, over 170cm, but this giant made him look like a child.
Overwhelmed by the sheer bulk, Francis cautiously replied without rashness.
"...What is it?"
"Vanguard Swordsman Captain, Baron Lucas Kyle. Set down that sword and come here."
At those words, Francis knew something was wrong. Vanguard Swordsman Captain? Lucas Kyle? Unfamiliar name, but he knew what that title meant.
And that such a man had him cornered this night.
Shing-
Instead of complying, he drew his sword. He'd seen Kyle carried only one. A vanguard swordsman captain? He could take him, bulk or not.
Kyle clicked his tongue. Testing the waters, and it was real. He drew his sword—not his usual two-hander, but one he'd practically seized from a mercenary in the tavern.
"Vanguard Swordsman Captain... Smart to recognize me, but poor judgment."
"Why's that?"
"You should have gauged your opponent's skill first. Today, you die here."