Chapter 89
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Barbata
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The march of the prisoners slowed more and more as time dragged on.
It was inevitable, hitting their physical limits.
"The prisoners look pretty beat. Shouldn't we do something about it?"
"I'll handle their treatment. No need to worry."
Even Schneider's words couldn't sway Leon—he refused flat-out.
'Can't trust prisoner scum.'
Leon's father had been a pioneer captain, just like him.
He'd always stuck strictly to the principle of reforming prisoners, saving countless lives in the process.
—Prisoners are people just like us in the end. Fix their issues, and they'll contribute big to society.
But Leon had come to see his father's words as dead wrong.
His father—killed by the very prisoners he'd trusted—proved it.
'They're not worth fixing.'
That was his conviction now.
He'd lost his father, the purpose of his life, and filled that void by watching the prisoners suffer.
It brought him joy to see them toil and die.
Consumables ought to act like consumables.
People don't put faith in disposables.
That was Leon's belief.
"So that's what happened? Yeah, I get why you can't trust prisoners."
"Haha... yeah, sure... We're prisoners, after all..."
Jun nodded along to Luke's tale. Luke had heard it ages ago from that mustached guy—who was long dead now.
He slipped some honey-glazed jerky to the downcast Luke and sank into thought.
"Lost his father to a prisoner, huh."
Only one way to fix that problem, then.
Make this Leon guy start trusting prisoners.
Of course, that was impossible.
'How do you even trust prisoners?'
Jun agreed completely. Even Luke, prisoner status and all, conceded the point.
"But the world doesn't run on simple black-and-white logic."
Prisoners?
They broke the law, so paying the price is right. Keeps society turning.
But humans are flawed creatures.
And the law? Made by those same flawed humans.
'Joseph's the perfect example.'
Joseph's crime: disobeying orders in a military op.
Why? Refused to torch a plague-ridden village.
So, criminal?
Yes. Absolutely.
Soldier defied orders. Broke the law.
Untrustworthy scum?
...Maybe not.
That question deserves deeper thought.
The world's messy like that.
"How do I convince a captain who sees everything in black and white..."
Can't make him trust prisoners.
But ways to earn trust in people? Plenty.
Jun handed that job to Joseph.
"Separate the prisoners?"
Joseph cocked his head at Jun's suggestion.
"Yeah. The total lost causes from the ones who are at least usable. Sort 'em out."
"How?"
"Your job to figure that out."
"You're pushing it."
Joseph griped first but didn't turn down the offer.
The perks were too good.
"Thought linking up with the Gilenoi Merchant Guild would be a cakewalk?"
"Urgh."
"Won't leave you high and dry, though. Here."
Jun passed over stamina potions.
Small flasks—the exact thing exhausted prisoners needed most.
"But whip those prisoners into line. Make 'em follow you come hell or high water. Weed out the rest."
"I'll give it a shot."
Joseph took the deal.
No sweet-talking, though.
He just beat the defiant ones senseless.
Rewarded those busting their asses in fights.
"Drink up. It'll perk you right up."
"Urgh... wh-what is it? Potion? Where'd you even..."
"Shut it and drink."
"Th-thanks."
Some still wouldn't toe the line.
Can't save everyone.
'Prisoners are key manpower, sure.'
But disobedient ones were dead weight now.
"I've seen that trick before. Tribe used it on beasts."
"What's that?"
Maya and Aiden watched on; Eleanor chimed in from nearby.
"Training. Obey, get fed. Rebel, become chow."
Jun and Joseph set to taming the prisoners.
"Halt."
Schneider and Leon threw up fists at Jun's call.
Stop signal. The group stood dumbstruck in barren wasteland.
"Trouble?"
"Sorcery."
Empty expanse.
But Jun's eyes picked out clear traces of shamanism.
A barrier.
Half a month in, they'd reached the target.
Jun and company made first contact: Orc Shaman Barbata, prime mediator.
[Fire Ball]
A flaming orb rocketed forward, only for a colorless ripple to bloom in thin air, snuffing it out.
"Hmph. Barrier. Sturdy one too."
Schneider scowled.
Barriers meant casualties on entry.
Down troops before the Orc Lord? Bad call.
'If only my gear was here...'
No anti-sorcery tools—all ditched back home.
Boots on the ground it was.
"Send prisoners in?"
"Hmm..."
Schneider opened his mouth to Leon's question—but Jun cut in.
"Mind waiting a sec?"
"Hm? Jun. You got something?"
Merc captain knew his stuff, but shamanism? Stretch, Schneider figured.
Pure common sense.
Magic and sorcery: different beasts.
"Got some shaman lore. Lemme scout it."
"...For real?"
Jun stared down the sorcery instead of replying.
'Whole different weave from the hag's.'
Hag leaned curses and souls; Barbata's screamed barriers and buffs.
'What's the structure?'
Empty nothing to others; Jun saw energy flows crystal clear.
'Sharper than before.'
Hag fight: vague hunches.
Now: vivid streams.
"Mediators are the orcs' bodies inside? Selfish as hell."
Bodies within meant entry for any smash.
Shifting flows everywhere.
'Entry shifts with the flows.'
Thirty souls could scatter like chaff.
Jun briefed the crew on his reads.
Blind rush? Suicide.
Orcs would pick 'em off piecemeal.
"Hold hands and go together?"
Prisoner idea. Decent, but sorcery bounce likely.
"External shock?"
Schneider clenched his gauntlet.
Tough talk for a scholar. Jun shook his head.
"Sturdier than ancient make-believe. No dice."
Schneider's temple-busting smash? Not enough.
And he'd be out cold after—bad trade.
"So how?"
"I'll break it."
"Huh? You said can't."
True. One haymaker wouldn't cut it.
"Back up, everyone."
Skill would.
"Maya, you see it?"
"See it."
"Keep fingering it."
"Roger."
Barbata's weave wasn't hag-style sacrifice to some god-thing.
He took offerings direct.
'Mediators: orc flesh and souls.'
Maya tracked the soul streams hugging the barrier.
"There to here, sliding like so."
"Gotcha."
No soul-sight for Jun, but Maya's pointers lit the energy flows.
Twenty-five souls total.
Jun memorized every path, then chanted.
[Multi-Chant]
[Detecting Target]
[High-Speed Chant]
Summoning wind blades at 1-second intervals...
[Wind Cutter]
Tearing through barrier flows...
One-per-second wind blades shredded the flows.
Sturdy or not, broken flows shook the whole.
Twenty-five seconds flat.
Time to rip every sustaining soul.
"Wh-whoa!"
Someone jabbed a finger at the empty plain.
Heat-haze style, something shimmered into view.
A massive stone tomb of a building.
"Heh..."
Since his decade-long aide's death.
Schneider kept cool on the outside, but nights brought back Bright's memories.
Disciple with middling talent but iron grit.
Impatience wrecked it all.
'My shadow pushed you to that choice?'
Jun was a standout mage. Special to Schneider.
No ego beyond skill, always cautious, eyes everywhere.
Covetable talent, naturally.
Bright must've hated his own gaze on Jun, fueling the rush.
'What's the point now.'
Couldn't cheer Jun's feats like old times.
He was a scholar. A chronicler.
This mess? He'd report it raw if he survived.
Taint his disciple's name? So be it.
'But Bright. Still.'
I'll cap your screw-up. Only gift left.
At the sealed stone doors.
Schneider's fist pulverized them in one.
Sunless dark birthed dozens of red glares.
"Orcutas Baha... Daru ba Hargone...! Hargone Baha!!"
Praise to the orc god—and their hero Hargone's return.
From Orc Shaman Barbata.
"All hands! Battle stations!"
Orcutas Baha!
Hargone Baha!
Ink-black interior.
Red eyes: fifty-plus pairs, easy count.
Elite orc warriors, world-conquerors with their lord once.
They lunged out—
Jun lit the fuse.
[Earth Burst]
KABOOM!
Pre-banked mana seeped into earth—detonated.
Orcs atop shredded by debris.
Unlike gremlins past, they tanked the shards.
ROOOAR!
Pain fueled fury; they charged—
RUMBLE!
[Earth Burst] buckled ground; ancient shelter crumbled on them.
"Fall back!"
Group retreated on Leon's yell; Aiden and Maya stalled breakout orcs.
CRASH!
Thirteen orcs clawed free of rubble.
Master-forged glaives swung.
'Heavy...!'
Arms like Aiden's torso, pure muscle.
Raw power shoved him back.
Aiden stayed cool.
Jun's tips prepped him; field-tested berserk orcs—no brute force.
Two steps back; triggered Jun's gift: [Salamander's Blessing].
WHOOSH!
Fire-attuned mana trailed sword in red blaze afterimages.
Blinded the orc.
Two more flanked; Aiden dove in, not out.
[Charge] → [Bash]
First orc targeted.
Others reacted to intercept—Maya struck.
Shadow-surf from Aiden's back, twin daggers gleaming.
THUNK! CLANG!
One, blocked by Aiden's frame, ate dagger to the eye; other parried but lost Aiden.
SLASH!
Sword clove the front orc's throat.
Rock-hard muscle? No match for aura blade.
Blood geysered, drenching Aiden.
"Fuu..."
Double leap distanced charging foes; deep lungful out.
Breath tinged bloody.
Artifact armor 'Destroyer's Leather' drank orc blood—ignited.
Power flooded veins; head screamed destruction.
Mental steel clamped it; eyes burned feral red.
Orc berserk mirror.
"Right."
"Left then."
Legs brimmed.
[Charge]
Orcs blanked on his blur.
CRUNCH!
Gruesome crack; then they clocked the downed bro.
"Fuu..."
Orc dropped; Aiden's red breath thickened.
"Nailed it."
Jun nodded approval at Aiden's scrap.
Destroyer's Leather.
Artifact armor he'd slotted on a warrior alt once.
Stack per kill, up to five; stats explode per stack.
Downsides, yeah.
Boosts like that always bite back.
Eleanor's buffs and Jun's potions fixed that.
Classic mob-mower.
'Maya's taking hits, though.'
Racial mana weakness—no fix.
But she tormented with Acander's fangs: joints, tendons crippled.
Slight cut, then [Wraith Gallop] into surroundings.
If Jun was orc? Pass.
'Maya's a boss-slayer build anyway.'
All things equal, peak performance.
GRRROAR!
Orcs spilled from ruin guts.
Collapse casualties: light.
"Du ba herba. Da tukan!"
Shaman Barbata standing.
"Pioneers. Charge."
Leon barked; pioneers surged with curses.
Eleanor's blessings rained, Jun's enchants followed.
Main event kicked off.