Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Black-Hearted Warrior
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“Hold the supports tight so they don’t collapse! Drive those anchor pins in properly.”
A makeshift tent was going up. Wagons lined up alongside it to block the morning dew.
Ethan watched the caravan hands checking inside a wagon with paperwork in hand, then glanced over.
There was Tacha, eating under the blue banner. Despite its gaping maw that seemed unfit for the task, it was delicately tearing off bits of meat with its fingers and popping them into its mouth.
He’d expected it to rip into the huge bird leg with its savage teeth. Instead, it ate more daintily than a refined lady.
It would probably take at least two hours to finish the food in front of it. That was when Ethan took a big bite of his bread.
His eyes met Tacha’s. The gleaming pupils made his shoulders twitch involuntarily.
Tacha wagged a finger. It looked like a beckoning gesture. He pointed at his own face with his index finger. Was it calling him?
Ethan rubbed his nose and approached Tacha. Curiosity outweighed his fear of the unfamiliar species, if only slightly.
He’d learned that the Tarin race, who revered combat, didn’t use their strength recklessly. Getting close shouldn’t end in disaster. Probably.
“You called?”
“Here.”
Tacha tore off a chunk of meat with four fingers and held it out to Ethan. Staring blankly at the offering, he heard Tacha speak.
“Eat.”
“This?”
“You were staring because you wanted some, weren’t you?”
“Not really.”
“I see.”
Tacha set the torn meat on a plate and took a small piece to his mouth.
Thicker than a thumb, its teeth flashed between the gaping jaws. He thought they’d crush bone rather than tear off a limb.
“You eat more slowly than I expected.”
Unable to contain his curiosity, he blurted it out. Regretting it immediately, he still wanted to keep the conversation going now that he’d started.
“To receive the life of all things. Eating slowly with gratitude is the example.”
“I see. This is my first time seeing a Tarin up close. I’ve heard a lot, though.”
That was when Dao, who’d been circling in the sky, cried out and swooped down to land on his shoulder.
“Roppa trainee.”
Tacha said.
“I haven’t officially received the title yet. I’m still in training myself.”
Ethan said, stroking Dao’s beak.
“A fine Roppa always has a fine hawk. Your little friend shows great promise.”
Surprisingly affectionate words came from Tacha. A far cry from the brazen figure who’d blocked the caravan and demanded food and a great warrior. But Ethan’s eye twitched at what followed.
“Your little friend will become a fine hawk and soar the skies, but you... I’m not so sure. Plenty of Roppas get abandoned by their hawks, so watch yourself.”
“Dao won’t abandon me.”
“Roppas abandoned by their hawks always say that to console themselves.”
“You’ll see. I’ll prove you wrong.”
Tacha’s thick eyelids slowly closed, then opened. Its vertically slit pupils seemed to ask: Can you really?
Rising to the challenge, Ethan glared back with fierce eyes. After a few seconds, Tacha flicked out its tongue to lick around its snout.
“A human who can’t take a joke.”
“That... that was a joke?”
For a fleeting moment, a smile formed on the elongated lizard-like face. Different from a human expression, but unmistakably a grin.
An unpredictable species. Or maybe just this Tarin. It had picked a fight with brazen jokes, then clicked its tongue at humans for not getting it.
“No one in my tribe told jokes more refined than mine. That’s why all the tribe’s females adored me. Every Tarin knows the name Tacha of the Black Heart.”
“Your people use ‘refined’ in a funny way.”
“Humor requires high-level intelligence by nature. It’s only natural you didn’t laugh because you couldn’t understand.”
“Must be nice, being so intelligent.”
“Flattery out of nowhere. Not very amusing.”
“That wasn’t flattery—it was sarcasm.”
Tacha blinked. It clearly had no idea what he meant. A species that didn’t speak the same language.
“Finish your meal.”
Ethan sat beside it and ate his bread. An odd personality, but not threatening.
The subtle tension from their different species lingered, but he no longer flinched when their eyes met.
“How’s the training going?”
“The great warriors and challengers I’ve met lately have all been disappointing. Meetings are precious, but there was nothing to learn from them.”
He recalled his master smacking his head while explaining: Tarin training was for defeat, not victory. Mulling over his master’s words, Ethan asked.
“You keep going until you lose, right? That’s the training.”
“There’s no set rule. Most stop and return home after a satisfying defeat, but there are ascetics who keep wandering without ever losing.”
“How about you, Tacha... sir? Think you’ll lose?”
Unsure of its age, he called it sir. It had lived longer than him, at any rate.
Tacha lifted its rugged face. Ethan looked up too. The moon shone exceptionally bright.
“Warriors of the Black Heart don’t grow arrogant. A true trainee humbly awaits the defeat that will come someday. But I’ve always wondered. Does someone exist who can defeat me?”
The words bordered on arrogance beyond confidence, but watching Tacha gaze at the moon made it convincing.
He’d never seen Tarin combat firsthand, but he’d heard enough stories to last a lifetime.
Limbs severed? They fought on with tails, jaws—whatever remained—until they snuffed out the enemy’s life.
Mountain warriors who hurled themselves at foes until their hearts stopped beating.
Born with superior bodies and reveling in charging into peril, their numbers were few, but each was a great warrior.
Of course, that was the flattering version. Those who’d fought Tarin warriors to the death said: Even fanatics were more rational than them.
They kept decorum as trainees in peacetime, but turned into mythic demons in battle.
A species that worshiped combat, devoting their lives to it—how many could defeat them?
“But I’ve changed my mind.”
“Changed?”
“My training ends today. I will experience a dramatic defeat. Perhaps one with nothing to learn from. That’s why I’m afraid. That an overwhelming loss might weaken my soul.”
Tacha spread its arms wide and smacked its head. A dull thud mixed with a metallic ring. The sudden action startled Ethan, who leaned back and stared.
“Get a grip.”
“Do that twice and my skull shatters. You scared me.”
Seemed like its way of focusing. Ethan glanced at the people clustered around the wagons.
Among those chatting by the campfire, someone had the mountain warrior on edge?
Dr. Sent, overall commander of the caravan; Kolnep, who’d served in a famous mercenary band; or Guchi, who’d ventured into uncharted lands. Those three came to mind first. Kolnep especially—his eyes were different.
“Young Roppa, do you know the words of the great Roppas?”
“From the highest perch, see the farthest. Every Roppa holds it in their heart.”
“One without eyes to see cannot be a Roppa. It’s not just wide vision—precision matters.”
“My master said the same. See accurately, report accurately.”
“What do you see? Who among them is the great warrior to face me? Can you tell?”
“I’m inexperienced, but I walk the Roppa path too. I can at least gauge threats.”
“Then speak. Who threatens me?”
He exhaled shortly and stood. Pride was on the line. Spotting dangers faster than anyone and alerting the group—that’s what made a Roppa.
“I can narrow it to three.”
Ethan raised fingers, pointing at the three resting separately. He added brief explanations.
“Those three stand out from the other humans.”
“True. But it gets tricky from here. I lack experience. I can’t say for sure who’s strongest, but I think Kolnep’s the most likely. His presence feels different up close.”
“You’re right that human outshines the other two.”
“So I got it?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Your eyes aren’t fully open yet. Your little friend seems to know, though.”
Tacha extended a hand. Dao, usually wary of others, spread its wings and lightly hopped onto it.
Ethan swallowed a warning cry. The hawk’s sharp talons looked like a baby’s nails against Tarin skin.
“Ask your friend.”
Tacha swung his hand. Dao took to the sky. Ethan craned his neck to follow.
After circling a wagon, Dao perched on a tree beside Guchi.
“It was Guchi after all. Pretty close.”
“That Guchi—is he the one in the cloak?”
“Cloak? No, that’s Lander.”
Lander was warming by the fire next to Guchi. Lander was unusual too.
The stealthy way he mounted wagons silently, his perfect balance on swaying rides, the unbelievable strength to lift a heavy wagon alone.
“He’s odd too. Especially strong today, weirdly so. But strength and sword skill are different. He was a soldier... maybe.”
“That’s why your eyes aren’t open. Young Roppa, you can’t see what’s hidden. I haven’t figured it all out either. I just barely sensed the giant lurking there.”
Giant? Ethan eyed Tacha questioningly. Tacha popped the last dried fruit into his mouth and stood, yanking the banner pole from the ground.
Only then did he realize: the pole was a glaive. A hefty weapon with a massive blade on the blunt haft’s end—too much for most men to wield.
Tacha unwound the blue banner from the pole, wrapped it around his arm, and strode toward Lander.
As the massive frame moved, eyes turned. Whispers spread. A fight was brewing.
Ethan whistled for Dao and climbed a wagon. Best seat in the house. Nowhere better to watch a duel from.