Chapter 37
Chapter 37
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Swamp Native Hassan
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Goblins.
I'd already run into goblins once before, back when we were cleaning that abandoned temple. That time, I hadn't even considered the possibility of a fight, so I panicked and got overwhelmed.
But today, I'd set out with the intent to kill and dispose of whatever got in my way. My resolve was on a whole different level.
Kee-sik, shi-shit.
Ki-shit.
Those little bastards were giggling away, oblivious to the fate awaiting them.
Mud-caked ugly fuckers. Maybe they were looking at me and sneering, "Look at that guy, carrying three swords."
Fuck that—goblins daring to mock a triple wielder?
Unacceptable.
"Demons' little minions, feast your eyes on the hatred I've bottled up for days!"
With that, I drew two blades from my belt and charged at the goblins.
The squelching ground was annoying, but with my strides twice as long as most people's, it wasn't an issue.
"Die, you shits!"
Slash—.
And just like that, I severed one goblin's head.
Kee, kee-eek!
The goblin's rolling head hit the ground, and I saw the dark-red eyes of the others—filled with shock from the sudden attack—cloud over with panic.
Of course, I was pretty shocked myself.
There'd been a slight catch on the bone, but my longsword sliced through the goblin's neck like tofu.
Did living flesh really come apart this easily? The new longsword seemed to be pretty damn good.
Or maybe it was the miracle of my strength stat hitting 4.
Ki-shit!
Ka-shet-ki!
"What was that? You calling me a dog-fucker?"
I swung at the goblins fumbling to aim their crude arrows. I'd never trained in swordsmanship, and the only weapon I'd ever handled was a rifle.
Whoosh, slash, spurt—!
Just wildly swinging with my size and the sword's reach had goblin necks, collarbones, and arms tumbling to the muck everywhere.
"Die, you fuckers!"
Kee-ek!
Kek!
The goblin shits dropped faster than expected.
A few turned tail and fled ass-first, but I had zero intention of letting them off.
This was kill or be killed melee.
No matter how pathetic or ridiculous it looked, if you didn't want to die, you had to kill the enemy somehow.
In a brawl like this, there was no room for style or qualms about taking life.
"Right in your face, you shit!"
Slash—. Spuuurt—!
Only after clearing the goblins blocking my path did I finally have a moment to glance around.
The others were each grappling with two or three goblins clinging to them.
"Rene! Do something! Do anything! You're the best with a sword out of all of us, Rene sis!"
"W-what am I supposed to do? Just swing whatever!"
"N-no, don't touch that! S-someone deal with this one!"
Fuck, what were these guys? Bronze tier for real? Wearing fancy armor and swords, yet getting manhandled by goblins. They were fighting hard enough, but honestly, below expectations.
Maybe I'd overhyped the whole Bronze tier rank in my head.
My opinion of adventurers as a species was steadily dropping.
"It's... it's time for my Silence Totem!"
Somewhere, Luna's voice rang out with grim determination. I rolled my eyes and spotted her locked in a desperate duel with a single goblin.
Luna pulled out a thick, elongated stick-like thing she'd hidden under her raincoat.
To be precise, it was less a stick and more a bat or club, with a vaguely human face carved into it, giving it the look of a mini totem pole.
Silence Totem?
I'd half-expected something after the performance the daughter of Nox had put on before.
Ki-shishik!
"Q-quiet!"
Luna swung it straight into the goblin's skull.
Gek!
The merciless blow sent the goblin crumpling to the ground, twitching a few times before going silent without so much as a whimper.
Fuck, so that's the Silence Totem. Just a club.
"Hassan! Behind you, behind!"
Luna's shout snapped me alert. Sure enough, a goblin lunged at my back, swinging a rusty dagger.
Kee-saeki! Shi-ba-saeki!
"Sneaky ambush!? I won't go down without a fight!"
I whipped my arm around. But this goblin was nimble for its kind—it dodged my blade and stabbed down with its dagger.
Fuck, this is gonna hurt. As I braced for the wound—
Pew—.
A gunshot rang out from somewhere, and the goblin's head exploded like it'd taken a bomb.
"Samaritan Hassan. Quite the savage technique. Like a beast flailing its horns wildly."
"H-Hippolyte—."
"Slaughtering a hundred goblins must be true after all. Impressive for an Iron tier."
Fuck, did she just flick a pebble with her finger like a bullet? What the hell, not even a magic missile or anything—. Terrifying.
My improved opinion of adventurers shot right back up.
No matter how strong I got, I couldn't picture myself pulling that off. Was she even human?
* * *
Twenty adventurers slaughtered about forty goblins.
No chasing the runners—we just looted fangs and junk from the corpses.
But true to swamp dwellers, their gear was rusted junk like daggers and wooden arrows on the verge of falling apart. Carrying it would just add dead weight.
"Hey, fuck off. That's my goblin."
"P-proof?"
"Proof? Look—clean cut from left neck to right side. That's proof."
One of the Sword Virgins harvesting fangs from a goblin I'd bisected. I growled hard at her, and she shuddered, backing off unsteadily.
"Grh...."
"Scram. Don't go stealing shit you learned from the worst."
She scowled like she had plenty to say, but slunk back to her group without a word.
Fuck, eyeing someone else's kill and then getting pissy about it? Reminded me of my little sister. She'd fuck up, then rage at everyone else. Vicious bitch.
Anyway, forty fangs total. I'd soloed ten goblins—a huge haul. That's 40 copper already.
Last time, I'd barely killed five while covered in wounds and collapsed exhausted. This time, ten down and I was just winded, no injuries.
Fuck yeah, I've grown, Hassan! Level 9 power! No, the might of the triple wielder!?
"Look, Hassan. I took down two! Shit! Feels like my strength's overflowing. What's this?"
Luna gleefully yanked fangs from goblin mouths. Me killing ten was impressive, but her bagging two was shocking too.
Makes sense—she'd shown murder talent smashing heads with rocks. Might end up a famous killer someday.
As we finished gathering corpses and loot—
"Ugh, uuu. I-it hurts—."
"No threat to life. Pierced clean, but missed vitals."
In one corner, Hippolyte checked the coachman's arrow wound, surveying the field and issuing orders.
"Report casualties and stolen gear before sundown."
Silver tier pro, handling business like a true alpha. Procedures and reports sounded boring, so my attention wandered.
Swipe, splat, splat—.
"Hik!"
As I approached, the priestess flinched like I'd groped her, then prostrated flat in the mud.
"H-how did you get here? S-sorry for the disgraceful sight. Didn't expect you suddenly...."
"...Huh?"
Suddenly bowing to me left me baffled and oddly guilty.
Fuck, just approaching a woman makes me feel like a sinner.
What was with the bow? Religious thing? As I pondered, she rose, brushed mud off with her palms, and spoke.
"Ah, sorry.... Mistook you for someone else. Happens when you can't see. Pay it no mind."
"I see. Could you move your foot? Goblin corpse underneath."
"Oh, right."
Heh, unclaimed goblin. 4 copper get! As I harvested its fangs, the priestess—who'd been peering down at me—addressed me.
Of course, "peering down" was my imagination. She was blind.
"Hassan, yes? You seem a fine warrior, but goblins ambushing a broken wagon in the swamp. Coincidence?"
"What, you think they dug a trap on purpose?"
"Maybe.... The world's changing fast. Goblins learning traps wouldn't surprise me."
Delphi priestess Cassandra seemed uneasy and astonished at goblins acting organized and tactical.
Me? Just whatever. Goblins existing at all was weird enough to me.
Weird-ass creatures doing weird shit? Par for the course.
* * *
"Alright, camp here. Solid ground too. What say you, Branch Lord?"
"I defer to Miss Hippolyte. Night deepens, running muck gets risky. Spring nearby—we can wash gear and selves in shifts."
"Then unpack here. Everyone, prep camp!"
At the two Silver tiers' agreement, the wagons halted in a spacious clearing and unloaded.
"An abandoned temple."
Cassandra muttered like to herself. Blind, yet more worldly than me.
"See, Hassan? Statues. Smash 'em—something pop out?"
Luna pointed at corroded, ruined statues. Probably recalling temple cleanup.
"Smash statues? Such blasphemy is forbidden."
At Cassandra's remonstration, Luna hid her Silence Totem back in her raincoat. I sheathed my swords too. Who knows what might be inside.
Smashing statues in public seemed taboo. Makes sense—not unless you're irreverent or enemy faith.
"Goddess statue—. Scythe in hand—. Ceres' temple."
Thump-, thump-thump—. Cassandra traced the rough surfaces. Red-cloaked warrior Hippolyte approached.
"Delphi priestess. Camping here tonight. Any oracle?"
"None."
"Good. We camp. Unpack and set night watch."
Prep done quick. We gathered in small groups by campfires, sharing rations.
My dinner: rock-hard biscuits. Unless softened in water, worry about cracking teeth—like literal stones.
This was weapon, not food. Smashing a head with it might kill the guy over there—seriously considered.
"H-hard to eat."
Even Luna, lover of churros and mint choco, struggled with the density.
"Lost several waterskins in goblin fight. Dinner's hard rations tonight."
Crunch—.
But watching Hippolyte bite into it like chocolate made my jaws ache. What dental strength. Hippo?
HP-draining meal barely done, Hippolyte rallied us with booming voice.
"Meal seems over. Focus up. Calling night watch roster with Branch Lord!"
Fuck, night watch.
Lucky or not, I drew second shift.
Hated second. Ends right as next starts—can't sleep properly, awkward spot.
Better than Luna's second, though. And hers beat that nosy guy's.
"Marko. Same tent. Fun night ahead. Brotherhood bonding for us men."
"H-hee! Mercury! Tempt me not!"
Poor Marko fucker. Glad it wasn't me. Should've paid debts on time.
"Wow, Hassan, you're a tent master. Best I've seen. Long elder level."
I'd slapped together a cramped A-frame two-man tent from scraps—unsatisfying—but Luna inside was thrilled.
"So cozy. No wind. Raincoat over makes all difference. And this—glow bugs! See? Lights it up. Caught 'em after dinner."
She hung a small jar at the peak, grinning. Unknown bugs buzzed faint light inside.
"B-but, you cool sharing with me?"
"Why? Problem?"
"Usually girls with girls, guys with guys."
"I, I don't wanna tent with Sword Virgins."
Fixed parties sharing tents was normal, but mixed gender made some uneasy. Luna didn't care.
"Plus this one's spacious."
"My build takes space—. Natural."
"Floor so soft. Inn bed! Where'd you learn?"
"Knew someone picky about beds once."
"Old comrade? Hometown pal?"
Fuck, Elfriede a comrade? Hesitating, Luna yawned hugely, stretched, and flopped onto the floor.
"Haa—. Sleepy, tired. Washed at spring—body all loose."
Rustle—.
Raincoat hiked up, exposing pale skin. Post-dinner slight pudge, round navel hit my eyes.
Seeing girl's white flesh recalled past soft warmth, smooth feel.
Heart pounded, heat rushed face and groin.
"You gave it me, so wore it all day. But sleeping in raincoat sucks. Gotta ditch for bed."
Wait, stripping the raincoat? Fuck, what're you doing to me.
But oblivious, Luna giggled.
"Good you made tent solid. Body ached like dying. Wagon bumpy—butt hurt. Swung totem—arm, side sore."
She poked squishy flank and arm, groaning uuu—.
Staring at her smooth white armpit, impulse blurted out sans restraint.
"...W-want me to rub it?"
"...Huh?"