Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Dungeon Overflow (2)
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“Hahaha! Then just sit back and watch!”
“Enoch, Young Master! The favor you mentioned last time! I'm calling it in now......Don't pretend you can't hear me! Y-you crazy Young Master!!”
“Oh.”
Karen's stoic expression finally cracked for the first time.
Karen was just too much of a worrier. Of course, I hadn't jumped in without a plan.
I stayed calm, leaping across the rooftops I'd scouted earlier before landing smoothly on the ground.
Thud!
A vibration shot up through my soles. My ankles stung a bit, but it was nothing that wouldn't fade quickly.
The agile movements I'd picked up from scraps with those assassin guild bastards were proving handy.
Karen stared at me in shock, poking her head out through the shattered window frame as if ready to chase after me......but Aaron grabbed her by the waist.
I knew Karen was no ordinary maid, but even she couldn't leap down from this height in one go.
Aaron was superior to her in skill, but with Jevella right there, he wasn't about to let his granddaughter plunge headlong into danger.
And sure enough, Aaron just glared at me without following.
I gave the grandfather-granddaughter duo a casual wave and dove into the alleyway.
I still didn't know the city's layout well......but roads were roads. Know the direction, and the rest worked itself out.
Noise echoed from afar. Shouts masking fear, grating clashes of metal, screams of the wounded.
To put it simply, the sounds of home. I kicked off the ground with all my might toward that racket.
The scenery blurred past. The fierce wind turned the hair Karen had so neatly fixed into a mess.
Obviously, blindly charging without knowing the proper paths meant buildings soon blocked my way.
No problem.
I launched myself at the wall at full speed.
Tap.
The instant my shoe hit the wall, I dug in my toes to steady my center of gravity. Then, as my thighs sprang open...
Whoosh—
My body spun through the air. I grabbed the edge of the rooftop, adjusted my angle, and landed lightly.
Thanks to distributing my weight perfectly, my footsteps were silent. From there, another leap.
Hopping roof to roof, scaling walls when needed, I raced straight toward the commotion.
The assassin arts for hiding in tangled cities and killing people.
I'd learned them by force, chasing those hit-and-run bastards who struck once and bolted if it failed.
Even now, those guys were a pain in the ass......but their tricks were undeniably useful.
The fine details might differ, but the core principles were similar enough.
Besides, after lounging around carefree these past few days, my condition was better than usual.
My legs moved faster than expected, and power naturally surged into my lightly clenched fists.
Scaling the city wall in one bound wasn't hard at all.
A soldier who'd just stabbed an orc climbing up with his spear whirled around in terror.
He must've been startled by someone suddenly leaping up behind him.
But this was the battlefield. Carelessness always had a price.
“Kuwaaa!”
An orc clambered over its comrade's corpse to reach the wall. It hefted its axe high.
A hand axe to the orc, but big enough to cleave a man in two.
The soldier turning toward me went pale.
I snatched the rigid soldier's spear and thrust it at the orc.
Stab!
The orc toppled backward, axe still raised, head pierced.
I handed the blood- and brains-splattered spear back to the stunned soldier and patted his shoulder.
“Good work. But from what I see, you won't last here with your skills. Fall back and support from the rear.”
“Uh? Uh......?”
The soldier gawked blankly at his spear and me by turns.
He probably guessed who I was, but hesitated to retreat for real.
He had orders, after all. Following mine would mean defying them. Staying put would mean ignoring me.
I smirked and peered down from the wall.
My words were partly to stack up some 'arrogant young master meddling with the field commander' points.
But mostly because the situation outside the wall was truly dire.
Dungeon monsters were far stronger than those from outside, right?
Proving it, the orcs scaled the walls barehanded.
No ladders. They jammed fingers into cracks and climbed.
Dead kin became footholds, letting others ascend faster.
“Hmm.”
I eyed another orc glaring up as it scuttled quickly.
Not wall-running like me, no complex tools, no magic.
Just crude weapons and armor, relying purely on raw strength.
Obviously, orcs were stronger than humans, but not by this much.
“They look just like regular orcs, though.”
Fangs jutting like a boar's, brutish head. A head taller than most men, green skin packed with muscle. Even the beastly stench.
A bit bulkier, sure, but no huge difference from the arena orcs.
Yet their pure strength differed this vastly?
I nodded and smashed my fist into the head of an orc nearly at the top, roaring fiercely.
Crack!
Neck snapping back, it plummeted, becoming another foothold.
“Still, at this level, it's manageable.”
I could handle it.
Turning hunch to certainty, I drew a deep breath. And as I exhaled...
“Hah!”
I dropped from the wall onto the orc-corpse footholds.
“Young Master?!”
The soldier's near-death scream came from behind, but that wasn't important now.
“Krk?”
An orc about to climb blinked at me landing right in its face.
Arm's reach away. So I reached.
Smack!
The orc took it full in the face, nose crumpling as it toppled backward.
Maybe because one climbing the wall fell back instead of forward. Silence blanketed the area as orc eyes fixed on me.
“Whoa. Even ugly mugs staring with that many eyes gets a little tense.”
I'd just cracked a light joke, but they flew into a berserk rage like I'd delivered the insult of the century.
“Ku, RaHaaa!!”
“Urk, Tata!”
“Mogh! Mogh!”
“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too.”
I didn't know a lick of Orcish, but I could guess what they were saying.
Probably stuff like 'Kill that big human!' or 'I call dibs on him!'
Orcs always said the same crap.
They gripped shoddy weapons—blunt edges, warped balances that threw off their swings—and charged.
I hurled myself at the first one.
Thud!
The panicked orc swung what might've been a greatsword or club, but I was already inside its guard.
One hand seized its collar, the other shoved its gut upward.
“Hup!”
I shoved the floating body forward as a shield and advanced.
Following orcs' swings naturally buried into its flesh.
Now squealing like a stuck pig instead of Orcish. The moment its strength faded, I snatched its greatsword-like weapon, spun a full circle.
Crunch!
A crescent arc. Shield and every orc in sword's reach split apart.
Dull edge, so not cleanly sliced. Crushed or ripped sections gushed blood.
Skin green. Blood red.
Using the swing's momentum, I dashed forward. Targeting an orc with a deep belly gash—not fatal yet.
“Ku, Ku......!”
I plunged my hand into its gut mid-word and stirred. Slimy disgust at my fingertips.
Tossed the heart aside and charged the next.
A distant one, unharmed, eyes blazing with kin-rage, swung a crude hammer.
From left to right. Despite the mace's crudeness, a heavy blow. I thrust my hand into it.
Thwap.
“Dangerous.”
“......?”
I'd snagged the haft before full swing.
Panicking at the immovable arm, it twitched, trying to wrench the weapon free.
Bad call. Knowing our strength gap, it should've dropped and retreated.
“Hup!”
My jab pulverized its jaw.
Crack.
Its lower mandible tore off following my fist's path.