Chapter 374
Chapter 374
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 374
Chapter Title: Fallen Beasts
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The beasts hanging from the ceiling plummeted to the ground.
Their skeletons were fused from human and monster remains, their flesh a black sludge melted from human bodies. Familiars crafted from a substance only the heretic Gletus could wield.
Thud, thump!
The moment they hit the floor, black sludge splattered in every direction with wet slaps. Though perfectly capable of standing on two legs, the beasts planted all four limbs into the ground.
They resembled the King of Beasts, but they were nothing more than animals.
Beasts devoid of pride, nobility, or reason. Lania clicked her tongue briefly at the sight of these familiars, crude imitations of the cataclysm from centuries past.
"Tch."
She casually flicked her wrist.
As grotesque howls echoed from all sides and the beasts charged, Lania raised her arm. Her outstretched arm aligned perfectly with one of the gaping maws lunging toward her.
"——————!"
Compared to the massive beast kicking off the ground with a roar, her simple extension of an arm looked pitiful...
Squelch.
The beast, barreling forward with enough momentum to shatter anything in its path, was effortlessly seized by Lania's outstretched hand. Caught by a human less than half its size, it couldn't advance a single step.
Crunch, grind.
The beast's maw began to crumple in Lania's grip. Black sludge erupted like a fountain from between her fingers clamped around its jaws.
"Hey, Kalt."
Forcing the beast—unable even to roar with its mouth held—to its knees, Lania glanced back. Behind her, Kalt had already brought one beast down with a swing of his sword and was lightly shaking off his blade.
"Yes, Senior."
"Don't kill them. We need to check something."
"I'll do my best."
Kalt spun his sword once with a grin before leaping at the beasts. Lania stomped her military boot down on the subdued beast's maw, slamming its head into the ground. Then, she clapped her palms together with a sharp smack.
Crack.
Vast amounts of mana stretched like spiderwebs between her palms. At the center, platinum sparks ticked and popped.
Smite.
Reversal.
Spell-Bunch.
With the spells inscribed, she clapped again. The sticky mana converged into a single point and pulsed violently—a phenomenon mages called the pinnacle.
Boom!
Immediately after, dozens of beams of light erupted from the ground toward the sky with a thunderous roar.
2.
They say the young lord known as the Guardian of the North is quite the looker. They say he carries a wildness you can't find even in the capital...
Rak van Grace.
Natida had heard plenty of rumors about the youth dubbed the North's young lord. It helped that her knight, Tefran—whose job included gathering gossip—stuck close to her, but she had a personal interest too.
'So this is one of the Hero's students...?'
A person directly taught by her benefactor and superior.
Natida leaned forward, clasping Rak's hand in hers instead of releasing the handshake. She narrowed her eyes. The moment their gazes met—his red pupils against her green ones—hers sparkled.
Rak flinched and pulled his head back.
Natida furrowed her brow and leaned in closer. After a brief tussle under the warriors' watchful eyes, she let out a short sigh. "Ah."
"My apologies."
She flashed an awkward smile and released his hand. Tapping near her eyes, she grinned.
"My eyesight's a bit poor. I have to get close to see faces properly."
Handsome, just like the rumors.
She muttered to herself as she stepped back.
"I've come at Hero Lania's orders. Here's a letter from her..."
Handing over the missive, Natida added,
"Please cooperate while I'm staying in the North."
She grinned cheekily. Rak felt a chill from that smile—familiar, somehow. A chill he'd felt often in the past.
'Where have I seen that smile before...?'
Rak racked his brain.
It didn't take long to place it.
"Ehehe, no big deal."
"I told you, it's fine. You don't trust me?"
The great Professor Lania.
She used to smile like that. And whenever she did, something "fairly dangerous" always befell Rak. Conditioned fear made him shudder.
"...?"
Natida tilted her head at his reaction.
Raised in the church, she lacked social graces. Lania had taught her "how to get by."
"Smile like this when asking a favor."
"It means 'pretty please.'"
Lania had advised her never to lose her smile, demonstrating examples that Natida mastered perfectly. But every time she used it, the other person trembled instead of warming up.
'Why's that?'
It was a mystery to her.
* * *
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A day passed since Saintess Natida arrived in the North. She sent away the priests who'd followed her and wandered the region alone, while Rak spent another ordinary day.
"Hoo..."
Finishing his training at the holy site, Rak exhaled deeply as he stepped outside.
Cooling his body in the frigid snowfield wind, he turned at a faint sound of footsteps—as if someone had been waiting. In one corner of the snowfield, a figure squatted, smoking.
"Oh."
Saintess Natida.
She waved at Rak.
"Been waiting for you."
She stubbed out her cigarette in the snow, then stood with a grunt. Rak blinked.
"Why here?"
"Told you. Waiting."
She shrugged.
"That place with the weird tracks. The path where you chased the Demon King's army. Mind guiding me?"
Something's bothering me.
Rak nodded and led the way. They walked the snowfield in silence, the crunch of snow underfoot echoing for a while.
"Tracked them from here."
Rak stopped.
This was the snowfield he guarded, littered with battle scars. Natida squinted, scanning around.
"Which way did they go?"
"This way."
Rak pointed and walked.
Soon they reached the base of the snow mountain. A bit farther was where he'd found the tracks, but Natida halted. Hearing no footsteps behind, Rak blinked and looked back.
"Just a little further... Huh?"
Shh. Natida was shedding her robe.
Underneath, she wore a thin shirt. The subzero chill of the snow mountain was brutal for anyone not native to the North.
"Brr, cold."
Shivering, she tossed the robe carelessly onto the snow.
"What are you—"
"Young lord, mind turning around for a sec?"
Natida drew a dagger from her waist.
"Not a pretty sight."
Rak turned silently.
But Rak had stepped into superhuman realms. His keen hearing caught every tiny noise behind him.
Squelch, plop plop.
Sounds of rummaging and spilling onto the ground. As they faded, Natida spoke.
"You can look."
Rak turned.
There stood Natida on bloodstained snow. Her once-white shirt was soaked red, blood trickling from her mouth. Yet she acted unbothered, picking up her discarded robe.
Shh.
She dressed hurriedly, wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, and lit a cigarette with a fire starter.
"This is the spot."
She pointed—not toward the tracks, but elsewhere. Exhaling a long plume of smoke, she declared with certainty,
"Where the tracks lead."
3.
"Must've been convenient having Natida along."
"That saintess you took as your new aide?"
"Yeah. Her skills are... unique."
Perfect for times like this.
Lania muttered, scanning the area with a disappointed smack of her lips. Beast corpses littered the ground. She'd subdued them by severing limbs, but they died before proper inspection.
'Planned it this way from the start.'
No reason to leave them here otherwise.
"All failures."
She nudged a skeleton drained of sludge with her toe.
"See those hoses on the ceiling? Disconnect them, and they collapse soon after. That's why they were dumped here."
"I see."
Kalt wiped slime from his blade, murmuring.
"Definitely underwhelming. Fierce, sure, but that's it."
Not even tricky opponents.
Among the heretic's monsters, these ranked weak. That was Kalt's take while cutting them down.
"If these are failures... there are successes?"
"That's the problem."
Lania sighed deeply.
"Leaving failures out in plain sight like this? There's intent."
If they'd truly perfected the King of Beasts.
If they made something worthy of "success."
"Worst case. It'd turn the tide."
"...What's a success like? These seemed harmless."
What's the difference?
Bound by restrictions, Lania couldn't spill details on the King of Beasts. Pondering how to explain, she spoke.
"Think of it as another calamity appearing."
"...Pardon?"
"An annoyingly tough one."
The hero, Ganikalt van Galatric.
The King of Beasts that fought him evenly. Its strength—reaching superhuman heights in beast flesh—was beyond Lania's guess.
'...Even so, a being dead for centuries. Can they revive it?'
Lania rubbed her chin, glancing around.
The human-framed skeletons were crude. All the failures here were shoddy.
Nothing but fakes.
Just traces of trial and error.
Mere failed experiments? Or remnants after completing the final product? No way to know. Lania bit her lip.
"What a pain."
As she sighed and stepped deeper into the workshop, Kalt stopped. Lania stopped too. At the exact same moment, they turned to the exact same spot.
No presence.
No breathing, no heartbeat—nothing a living thing must emit. Yet its existence couldn't be erased.
A suffocating pressure, crushing the air.
From the thick darkness.
Gleamed eerie blue eyes.