Chapter 27: Jin, Cadets, Beastmen, and... (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 27: Jin, Cadets, Beastmen, and... (5)
Crazy, what is this now?
Jin ducked down, pulling Mesa with him. Thud, thud! It felt as if a battering ram was slamming into the Kinzelo branch office over and over. The entire building shuddered, on the verge of collapse.
An earthquake?
Or had some kind of explosion simply gone off upstairs?
Jin sharpened his senses, his eyes fixed on the trembling ceiling. A wave of unease washed over him, but he forced himself to remain composed.
“Young Master! Please, escape fir—”
“Be quiet, Mesa.”
“Please, just promise me one thing.”
Mesa looked Jin straight in the eye.
“If things get truly dangerous, you must leave me behind. You are someone who cannot afford to die here, Young Master.”
Jin nodded.
He had no intention of agreeing with her; if he did, he wouldn’t have come to rescue her in the first place. But he judged this was the best way to calm the girl down.
“First, I need to see what’s happening upstairs.”
“Do you think the mages have started their attack? It feels like the building is going to collapse any second.”
“The mages here don’t have that kind of power.”
Even as they spoke, the thunderous impacts continued without pause.
“We’re going up. I can’t support you, so stay sharp and stick close behind me.”
The two of them climbed the stairs.
The source of the impacts seemed to be outside, as large cracks spiderwebbed across the interior walls. The murals depicting Kinzelo’s symbols had all crumbled to the floor.
What was strange, however, was that despite the chaos, not a single Kinzelo member had come inside.
They’re either still outside assessing the situation, or they’re already dead. It’s one of the two.
The moment he led Mesa out of the building, Jin got his answer.
It was the latter. As he pushed open the iron doors, the first thing he saw were the corpses of four Kinzelo members. Their bodies were hideously mangled, as if shredded by massive claws.
It looks like they were killed trying to retreat into the building. And these… these are the marks of a beastman.
Of all the things to run into here, it had to be them. A bitter taste filled his mouth.
The area outside the branch office was a scene from hell.
The fires Jin had started now licked at the front of the building, and the narrow paths between the flames were littered with dismembered and brutalized corpses.
“Mesa.”
“Yes.”
“There’s a beastman. Judging by the bodies, it’s a warrior type with claws. Shh, not a word. Just follow that path. Can you stay focused enough to avoid the fire… Damn it.”
Jin stopped mid-sentence, raising Bradamante into a defensive stance. Something was walking toward them, emerging slowly from the roaring inferno.
It stood over two meters tall, its fur an impossible, pure white for something that had just stepped out of a fire. Its eyes glowed with a chilling light.
The White Wolf Tribe.
The creature held a massive hammer in its right hand—the source of the thunderous vibrations that had been smashing everything in sight. Using the monstrous strength characteristic of warrior beastmen, it had been hammering the ground around the building, trying to flush out its prey like a rat in a burrow.
“What’s this? I was wondering what kind of trash managed to take down these useless bastards. Turns out it was just a brat like you?”
The beastman stopped and gave its hammer a casual spin. By now, Mesa was paralyzed with terror—not for her own life, but for Jin’s.
“……Young Master. It’s a White Wolf. I’ll buy you some time. Please, keep your promise.”
Whew.
Taking a short breath to steady himself, Jin spun around and struck the back of Mesa’s neck. A look of despair flashed in her eyes as her body trembled once before she collapsed, unconscious.
The beastman shrugged, a smirk spreading across its face as if the sight amused it.
“Heh, what a tear-jerker. A shame to watch this alone. Is this that… thing you humans go on about? You know. Ah, right! Love! Are you two lovers? Hmm?”
Though he spoke with the crude slang of a back-alley thug, a White Wolf was nothing like a common hoodlum.
In terms of a knight’s strength, an average adult was at least 6-star. They were a race said to be born for combat and slaughter.
In other words, the odds of the current Jin winning this fight were practically zero.
“I am Jin Runcandel, a direct descendant of Cyron Runcandel. State your name, beastman.”
“Runcandel……?”
The smile vanished from the White Wolf’s face. In a situation like this, there were only two reasons for such a drastic change in attitude upon hearing the Runcandel name.
Either they feared the Runcandels.
“The record for my most valuable prey is about to be broken today… Come to think of it, you have the Black Sword on your robe. My name is Quajito Truka! A warrior of the Truka Clan.”
Or they loathed them.
For the White Wolf Tribe, it was the latter. The first Patriarch of Runcandel had slain a White Wolf named ‘Javier,’ a being they once worshipped as a god.
“Today, I will offer you upon Javier’s altar to soothe his resentful soul! Jin Runcandel! Choose. Will you fight me in an honorable duel, or will you be torn to shreds while running away like a coward?”
A pure white aura enveloped Jin’s sword.
“I will fight an honorable duel.”
This was a calculated move, banking on the nature of the White Wolf Tribe.
Normally, the White Wolf Tribe viewed humans as mere prey or toys. They were merciless and had no concept of honor when dealing with them.
However, under special circumstances—such as when they judged an enemy strong enough to be worthy of their honor, or when their opponent was a Runcandel—they would seek an honorable duel. They would fight with respect, eschewing all cowardly tactics.
Prey killed in such a manner was considered ‘untainted’ and could be offered upon Javier’s altar.
“Quajito Truka. Before we begin, I have one proposal.”
“Speak, Runcandel pup.”
“While the duel is in progress, do not touch the human lying behind me.”
Quajito nodded.
“Fine. But if I win, the girl is mine too.”
“Understood.”
Jin moved to the open space in front of the building. He walked right past Quajito, who didn’t attack even though Jin’s back was turned. Such was the law of honor and duels for the White Wolf Tribe.
“It would be best to fight here. That way, I can keep my promise during the duel.”
“A good idea. You know our laws well. But remember, Runcandel pup, if you try to use them to pull a fast one…”
“I’ll be torn to death, tainted or not. I have no intention of deceiving you.”
“Kuhaha! It seems there are Runcandels who know honor after all.”
Jin laughed inwardly.
This beastman, Quajito, had likely never met a Runcandel before. If he had encountered any of Jin’s other siblings, he wouldn’t be standing there breathing.
Jin and Quajito stood facing each other, ten paces apart.
“Begin!”
Quajito raised his hammer and took a stance. He made the first move.
Whoosh! Quajito swung his hammer and lunged, moving with a speed that was unbelievable for a muscular giant who easily weighed over two hundred kilograms.
Jin dodged the attack with a quick step back, managing a counter-thrust with Bradamante.
However, a White Wolf was not an opponent who would fall for Jin’s swordsmanship. Quajito pressured him, fluidly alternating between offense and defense, forcing Jin back, utterly helpless.
Clang! Their weapons collided only once in the first few seconds of the exchange, but the impact sent a tearing pain through Jin’s wrist.
No, it wasn’t just his wrist. A numbing shock shot through his entire body, down to his toes, as if he’d been thoroughly pummeled. He could withstand a clash like that ten times at most, and that was a generous estimate.
I only have one chance.
If this were a fight with no hope of victory, he would have already crushed the Orgal's Pendant Luna had given him. The moment his eldest sister was summoned, someone like Quajito would be dismantled in an instant.
But this crisis wasn’t severe enough to warrant using the pendant.
Furthermore, if he couldn’t overcome a crisis of this magnitude, he had no right to call himself a future powerhouse. Every powerhouse he knew was a master of turning the tables, someone who had survived countless brushes with death.
In times like these, possessing a weapon the enemy was unaware of was always an advantage.
There were two things Quajito didn’t know about Jin: that he could use Spirit Energy and magic.
I can’t use magic.
Magic was out of the question. If he missed his chance and failed to kill the beastman, he would be forced to use the pendant, wasteful as it was. If Luna arrived and found traces of magic, or if Quajito managed to blab about it before dying, things could get troublesome later.
Besides, 4-star magic wouldn’t even scratch a White Wolf’s hide.
That left only one thing: Spirit Energy. And Jin already knew how he would use it.
I will liberate the sword.
Sword Liberation. The Awakening of Bradamante.
This was the authority of a Contractor, something Murakan had warned him not to even dream of attempting until his Spirit Energy release reached 5-star.
In the early dawn of the day he received the sword from Luna, Jin had already attempted Sword Liberation once. The moment he felt an immense power enveloping his body, Murakan had tackled him, stopping the attempt and causing it to fail.
—Are you insane? Do you want to die, Jin Runcandel! You are the only Contractor! If something happens to you…!
Murakan had been truly furious. Jin had to procure all sorts of erotic picture books just to appease him…
Right now, Jin was looking for an opportunity to recreate that sensation.
Boom!
Jin groaned as he blocked a blow swung with all of Quajito’s might. Though he’d parried it perfectly with Bradamante, his body couldn’t hold up.
“A fine sword, Runcandel pup. Not a single chip on the blade, even after all my hammering.”
“Thanks.”
“But it doesn’t suit your family’s symbol, that pitch-black sword. It’s far too white and ornate.”
Crack! With the next blow, Jin was sent flying into the outer wall of the Kinzelo building. As he slammed into the cold bricks, it felt as if his skull and spine were being crushed, but he managed to cling to consciousness.
Huff, huff…
As he exhaled blood-tinged breaths, Quajito’s approaching figure seemed to double. It was the shock.
“This is the end. I shall offer that sword along with you upon Javier’s altar. It was a good fight.”
Quajito raised his hammer high.
If that hammer fell, Jin would meet his death.
“Farewell!”
In the fleeting moment Quajito swung the hammer, he suddenly felt his vision go dark. It lasted only an instant, but it came with a bizarre sensation, as if several hours had passed.
Quajito failed to swing his hammer.
His time had momentarily stopped.
When he regained his senses and looked down, the first thing he saw through the receding darkness was a single black blade piercing through his body.
A blade of light as dense as shadow itself.
The hair of the boy holding the sword flickered like a black flame, fluttering in an unseen, spiritual wind.
“Just… when?”
“Until recently, I didn’t know why the Black Sword was our family’s symbol either.”
The moment Quajito coughed up a spray of crimson blood, a monstrous roar erupted from Jin—a rough, horrific sound completely different from his own voice.
“It was a good fight.”
Kaaaaah!
The shadow of the dead Quajito, the shadow of the fallen Mesa, the shadows of the burning trees—every shadow in the vicinity began to flow into Jin. They moved like beasts fleeing the light, drawn into the darkness he now commanded.