Chapter 32
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: After the Ambush
-----------------------------------------------------------------
When Tae-jin regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was pain. It wasn't quite the agony of his body being torn into a thousand shreds, like something out of a story. His mind was clear enough, after all.
But if there was a limit to the worst pain a person could endure without losing their sanity, wouldn't it feel exactly like this? It was like full-body muscle soreness, but casually surpassing that level.
"Urgh!"
When he tried to open his eyes, a similar ache pulsed in his eyelids. Pain in his eyelids, of all things. It was the first time in his life he'd ever felt such a sensation.
"Hey, you're awake?"
The first things he saw after forcing his eyes open were the tilting sunset and Garam's massive tusks. Those white, imposing tusks looked about a foot and a half long.
His blurry vision brought elephant ivory to mind. Not the most appealing sight to wake up to, by any means.
His still-foggy brain simply connected the visual stimulus with the pain. Garam's mug, and agony.
What the hell? Did Garam curse me or something? Or did he beat me up?
Tae-jin let out a hoarse whine.
"What the hell... why'd you hit me...!"
Garam shot him an incredulous look.
"Hit you? Me? You're ridiculous."
"Wasn't it...? Why am I here?"
"You had a massive throwdown with those werewolves yesterday. Don't you remember?"
Tae-jin's stiff head began to turn bit by bit.
Memories from the night before: trembling by the carriage at the sight of werewolves. Trembling again upon seeing them in the rabbit beastkin village.
It felt like one long chain of trembling memories, but the crucial scene came right after.
Elder Richer dropping three massive lightning bolts before collapsing on the spot. Uncle Pavilion's side flesh torn clean away by werewolf claws.
"Elder! How's Elder Richer? And Uncle Pavilion?"
"Elder seemed fine. Why are you the only one groaning like that?"
"Fine?"
As if to prove Garam's words, Elder Richer appeared from behind him, his face exactly as usual.
"Elder! You didn't die?"
Elder Richer looked utterly baffled at that.
"Why the hell would I die?"
"You sounded so damn resolute yesterday. I figured you'd unleash some blaze-of-glory spell and check out. Like a hidden ultimate technique or something."
A few sentences in, and sharp pain stabbed his gut. Speaking tensed his abs, ramping up the agony.
But pain or no, Elder Richer spoke matter-of-factly.
"You cast magic to survive. If you drop dead right after, what's the point? If I died just from casting spells, I'd have kicked the bucket several times over on the battlefield ages ago. Speaking of, why are you sprawled out like that?"
Tae-jin clenched his stomach muscles tight and ground out his words slowly.
"It hurts like hell..."
Only after saying it did something feel off. According to Elder Richer's old explanation, amplifying magic strained the body because the mana buildup didn't dissipate properly, wrecking you from the inside.
So why was Elder casually strolling around like nothing happened? He'd used the exact same amplification magic.
Utterly oblivious to Tae-jin's train of thought, Elder Richer spoke with childlike innocence.
"You're young—why the hell are you such a drama queen?"
A memory flashed through his mind right then. The white pill Elder Richer had groaned through while swallowing after lifting that chunk of earth last time. Had to be a painkiller.
"Elder, the pill in the blue pouch! Gimme some...!"
"That? We already fed it to you while you were out cold."
"What even is it? Not painkillers?"
"Got some pain relief in it. Helps your condition a bit too."
"Damn it... I took painkillers and it still hurts this bad? Doesn't it hurt you, Elder?"
"Hurt? Why would it? You're just a whiner. Young guy."
Elder Richer demonstrated by hopping in place.
Garam stared at him like he'd witnessed the world's biggest baby. Tae-jin was speechless with injustice. He'd heard "stoic" plenty, but never "whiner."
But scrutinizing Elder Richer's face, he noticed his brow twitching faintly with every move. Clearly holding back pain.
Elder Richer was hurting just as bad but pulling this stunt purely to mess with him.
Crazy old bastard...
Tae-jin bit back a curse. If Elder Richer came over for a playful poke, he'd probably scream. And knowing the old man, he'd totally do it.
"What about Uncle Pavilion?"
Elder Richer pointed off to the side with a finger.
Tae-jin followed it with his eyes but couldn't easily pick out Uncle Pavilion. Over ten rabbit beastkin crowded around him.
He stood out only because of the thick white bandages wrapped around his waist. His side was soaked red with blood.
They were digging up the earth, burying corpses. Shredded and mangled bodies everywhere.
To move around like it was nothing after a wound like that... Uncle wasn't ordinary.
Unlike the rabbit beastkin corpses being methodically handled one by one, the werewolves' charred, bisected remains still lay scattered haphazardly.
Suddenly, his gaze shifted to Garam standing in front of him. To fend off the werewolves despite his unhealed wounds, he'd cast taboo magic again. Meaning he'd sacrificed something else.
No need to ask what. One glance at Garam made it obvious. His legs had withered to bone and skin.
First taboo used his left leg and some guts while next to the werewolves. Second sacrificed his right leg to erect the barrier and hide in the carriage. End result: Garam was temporarily crippled, sitting beside him.
"What happened after I passed out?"
"Couldn't see it myself, so I don't know exactly. You guys charged off, and hours later Uncle Pavilion came sprinting back to the carriage. I gave him rough first aid, and the coachman piggybacked me here."
His legs were skin over bone, but Garam was no lightweight.
The coachman hadn't just carried him all the way—he was still out there doing heavy labor, digging graves till dusk. The epitome of cleanup endurance.
Does it take that kind of stamina to be a lord's personal coachman?
Tae-jin sat still, taking stock of everyone around him.
He was pain-wracked. Elder Richer pretended to be fine but sure as hell wasn't.
Uncle Pavilion had a gaping hole in his side. Garam was lame. The only normal one in the group was the coachman.
Wait, the coachman? There was a carriage, but no horse—did that even qualify as a coachman?
Was it even a carriage without a horse? Just a cart, right?
Lost in absurd thoughts while blankly staring at the coachman, Elder Richer spoke up.
"Tae-jin, what went down after I collapsed yesterday?"
"Didn't Uncle Pavilion tell you? He saw it."
"Said he was busy plugging the werewolves when they suddenly got bisected and dropped. No details."
Bad news. He'd pulled off something legendary, but he was the only witness.
"What happened? Simple. My fantastic heroics. When you went down, I stayed cool, sized up the situation, and found our way out."
Tae-jin launched into his explanation. A tad more dramatic than reality. Heavy on the embellishment, naturally.
No shame at all. First-person account—no way to verify—and it was that impressive. Bottom line: without his efforts, everyone except the coachman and Garam would've died. Rabbit beastkin included.
"...This huge werewolf comes drooling at Uncle Pavilion. As he's about to go down, it hits me: I'm the only one who can turn this around. I'm the hope."
Elder Richer wore the most pissed-off expression imaginable. He didn't even try hiding it.
But curiosity won—he didn't interrupt or nitpick.
"And right then, I knew: I could do it. I'm the once-in-a-millennium genius who masters mage basics in three seconds flat. That's when I awakened. All that genius I'd shown before? Not even my limit."
Tae-jin got fully immersed in his own tale. Wasn't this straight out of a hero epic? The protagonist's legend?
But Garam's face—with that subtle smirk—brought a flush of unbearable embarrassment.
Okay, too far. Tae-jin dialed it back, wrapping up plainly and humbly. Sometimes modesty shines brighter.
"Anyway, it was do-or-die for me. But your Lightning Magic? No way I could copy that. Too intricate, too refined."
Pride bloomed on Elder Richer's face. After decades honing his Lightning Magic, hearing it was beyond some prodigy hack's imitation felt like vindication.
"Damn right. How could you?"
"Anyway, Lightning Magic no, but that amplification spell."
"Mana Cell?"
"That's its name? Whatever, I figured that one might be iffy too."
At that, Elder Richer's face twisted in shock.
"You just saw it and copied it?"
"Not perfectly. More like a crude knockoff."
Elder Richer turned dead serious.
"Show me. Gotta confirm if you can actually use Mana Cell."