Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Imprint (2)
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"Hey, you hairy bastard. Is this guy really human?"
The old woman, who had been blinking rapidly, pointed at Harley while asking the bearded man.
"What the—Granny, you losing it? Calling a person 'this guy'! And Harley's been through all sorts of twists and turns, but he's a proper human!"
Even though the remark wasn't directed at him, the bearded man got all worked up, foaming at the mouth in protest.
In the tumultuous Act 4, Scene 3 of Harley's Great Adventure, there was a part where the wicked black mage 'Hans' captured him and subjected him to vivisections before he escaped.
She was probably thinking of that and showing concern for him.
He's more thoughtful than he looks.
Harley, who had inwardly flinched at being called a monster, crossed his massive, muscle-packed arms and nodded with a pleased grin.
"Hmmm... Anyway, he really is human, right?"
Ignoring the bearded man's outrage, she scrutinized him once more.
"I've seen plenty of warriors in my time, but this is a first."
"Elder! Just tell me what's the problem. This suspense is killing me!"
Unable to sit still as she marveled again, Harley jumped in.
"It's not a problem, exactly. Quite the opposite—it's excellent. Heh heh..."
"Oh ho?"
"Ugh... Anyway, it's chilly out here. Come inside to talk. Old bones like mine ache these days."
She patted her back as she rose from her chair and led them into the house.
"Speaking of which, I haven't thanked you yet. You helped me out of a real bind. I'll brew some tea—make yourselves comfortable."
They entered the cluttered interior, filled with all sorts of odds and ends, sat down, and waited. Soon, the old woman brought out tea made from some unidentified herbs.
"Drink up. It's good for the body. Us old folks need to eat well to stay healthy. And since you helped me today, consider this a token of my gratitude."
Harley grabbed his cup and gulped it down in one go.
The scalding hot tea, steaming fiercely, did nothing to his sturdy frame.
"Ha ha ha! Tastes like pure health! Alright, now finish what you were saying earlier!"
"Sheesh... Young folks and their impatience."
The old woman took a leisurely sip before speaking slowly.
"You know that unqualified people suffer severe side effects from imprints, right?"
"That's basic knowledge!"
"Imprints basically consume a ton of the body's energy. Mana... well, warriors use it for auras too, but life force is even more crucial."
And she had the ability to see the life force flowing through a person's body.
"I'd never seen life force this strong before, so I was taken aback. I've seen great warriors a few times, but even they don't compare."
"Harley was that impressive? He was already amazing without using aura, but..."
"At that level, he's less human and more monster. That's why I asked if he really was human."
The overwhelming life force emanating from a monster's body, far superior to a human's physical capabilities.
Harley had it in spades, so it was only natural.
"Imprints forcibly draw out and use that life force, so the more abundant it is, the stronger and more you can handle."
Once imprinted, life force drains continuously, so the fiery energy from a warrior's honed body was essential.
"With this, you could even take a great warrior's imprint, no problem."
"Oh! But is there something even higher?"
"Heh heh... There is—'War King's Imprint.' But no one's gotten it in centuries."
"Hoo, War King, huh..."
Harley's eyes sparkled at the appealing name.
"I couldn't do it anyway. It requires a grand sorcerer leading a team of shamans."
"Too bad, but can't be helped. Then at least do the great warrior one. A guy like me needs that much! Ha ha ha—!"
"That's tricky too."
"What, why!"
Despite Harley's protests, the old woman sipped her tea calmly, stringing him along.
"First off, no materials. It's been ages since a southern warrior came here, so I'm not prepared."
She'd spent years just treating minor ailments, using up her stock on that.
"I can get those in no time..."
"Second, a great warrior's imprint requires commensurate achievements. It's not just about life force or mana."
Higher-level imprints came with stricter conditions, it seemed.
Violate them, and the side effects would devour the recipient.
Muscle loss, baldness, premature aging, potency decline...
No way!
Faced with such dire consequences, Harley meekly backed down.
"So what achievements do I need? Slay a dragon?"
Still disappointed, he grumbled at her.
"Heh heh heh... Nothing that extreme. Let's see... Yes, single-handedly hunt an ogre, the predator of the northern mountains beyond the Steel Citadel. That should do it."
Huh?
"An ogre?! Granny, do you know what kind of monster that is?"
The bearded man, listening beside them, cried out in shock.
Ogres were top predators with nearly 5-meter frames, insanely dense muscles, and keen senses.
Gluttons that hunted and ate nonstop, except when sleeping, to sustain those bodies.
Even high-rank mercenaries ganging up suffered massive losses to take one down—if they could at all.
"If you're challenging great warrior status, you need to handle that much. And that's the bare minimum."
"Hmm... Well, a great warrior could, but..."
"Plus, if you succeed, its parts make great ritual materials. High monsters are perfect for sorcery."
The old woman finished calmly and took another sip.
Harley silently rummaged in his subspace magic tool.
"So get a basic imprint first, grow stronger, then challenge it slowly... Pffft—!"
"Ack! What're you doing, granny? Splashing tea in my face all of a sudden... Eek?"
He pulled out monster parts one by one.
Huge bones, tendons, eyeballs, jars of blood—various kinds.
"Uh... No way..."
The bearded man stared blankly at them and Harley alternately.
"Ogre! Ogre parts! Fresh ones, killed just days ago!"
The old woman recognized them instantly and shouted in astonishment.
Just as she said, they were extremely fresh.
He'd hunted beyond the Steel Citadel and returned just yesterday.
Forgot to sell them while hearing about the shaman right after getting back. Perfect timing.
Saved the hassle of gathering materials again.
"Just to confirm... You hunted these alone, right?"
Seeing him pull them out at this exact moment must've tipped her off.
She inspected the items closely, then eyed him dubiously, blinking.
"Heh... Ha ha ha ha—! Of course, elder! An ogre's nothing to this body! Pa ha ha!"
He burst into confident laughter.
"So, no issues with these for a great warrior imprint?"
"Y-Yeah... But just to be sure, you really took it down solo?"
"Obviously! I'd never lie about this when I know the side effects!"
At his words, she nodded slowly, refilled her cup, and sipped.
"By the way, granny. If you can do great warrior imprints, you're a skilled shaman. Why live out here like this?"
The bearded man, wiping tea from his face, asked in a dull tone.
She paused with the cup to her lips, then drank casually, replying nonchalantly.
"What's wrong with here? I make a living, help folks in need like me."
"Those same folks didn't show when you were in trouble?"
"...Everyone's got their reasons."
Her words carried layers of meaning.
Seeming unwilling to say more, Harley got to business to wrap things up.
"So when can I get the imprint? And if possible, I'd like others too..."
"Sheesh, always so impatient."
Tsking, she thought a moment before answering.
"Nothing's prepared now, so gathering materials and prepping will take a day. Come back the day after tomorrow."
"Tell me the materials, I'll fetch them quick..."
"Hey! Sorcery isn't something you rush!"
Aligning the timing, preparing meticulously, centering the mind—all part of the ritual.
"And half the fee upfront. As you see, I'm broke and can't buy materials."
With pricey monster parts and Hubert's booming business, money was no issue.
"Can I get the others then too? If possible, yeah!"
"Need a week after one for your body to adjust. And me to recover. Think imprinting's easy?"
With business settled, Harley and the bearded man stood, agreed to return the day after tomorrow, and left.
On the way back through the alley.
"Whew~! Alright, time to finish that unfinished business?"
Stretching grandly, his words puzzled the bearded man.
"Huh? Harley, didn't we come here straight?"
"Ha ha ha! What're you saying, buddy? We've got something to do together, right?"
This guy had a bit of a forgetful streak.
Harley patiently explained their task.
"Those guys from earlier—we gotta clean 'em up."
"Huh?"
The bearded man looked blank again.
Needed more detail, apparently.
"From my experience, types like that always cause trouble later if left alone! Better handle 'em preemptively!"
Of course, his "experience" came from Earth's cliché-ridden pop culture.
"I-Is that so? In my experience, scaring 'em like that keeps 'em in line."
"Heh, you've lived a sheltered life, buddy?"
To a modern guy steeped in gritty media, that was naïvely soft.
Harley had thought the same at first.
They were just thugs, and he and the bearded man were famed musclebound mercenaries who'd imprinted fear with Feral Instinct.
They'd probably stay away, as the bearded man said.
But the shaman granny was more capable than expected.
First imprint in two days, then weekly—plenty of time for fear to fade...
Enough for the fear to dilute.
Time to make it certain.
"Oh ho... Indeed, a tenacious warrior surviving all trials. Learned something, Harley. So how do we find 'em?"
They'd fled, no trace, base unknown.
"Heh heh heh—They're locals, so beat every related thug, and they'll pop out."
"Right! And if they come seeking revenge?"
"Then we didn't stomp hard enough! That's why we're tying up loose ends now—more thoroughly!"
"Brilliant...! Never seen a warrior so meticulous, Harley. Strength and brains!"
"Just experience, buddy. You can be like this too, Turaba. Wa ha ha ha!"
The two vanished into the alley depths, chatting amiably.
But their words were downright menacing.
By dusk, screams echoed through the streets several times...
They finished neatly and headed home with clear consciences.