Chapter 39: Kinzelo’s Misunderstanding
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 39: Kinzelo’s Misunderstanding
Meanwhile, Jin’s Division was on the move.
Contrary to the expectations of the other intermediate cadets, they had been securing one smooth victory after another against the orcs for several days. Of the twenty-five orcs designated as their targets, they had already eliminated seventeen.
“That makes eighteen! At this rate, we might actually make it back without a single casualty.”
Scut and Taimunt pulled their swords from the corpse of the orc they had just slain.
“When we get back, let’s take those guys who thought we’d fail down a peg. I was worried we’d tarnish the Young Master’s reputation, but this might actually do the opposite.”
“We still have seven left. Don’t let your guard down until they’re all dead,” Mesa snapped, though she was secretly smiling.
It feels as if the gods have granted us their protection, she thought. No, perhaps it’s for Young Master Jin. Maybe that’s why good fortune is following us, too.
Every member of Jin’s Division felt the same way.
Orcs usually moved in organized packs, yet for some reason, they were coming at the group one by one, almost as if lining up to be killed. Since the monsters weren't even rushing them, it was only natural for the cadets to feel this way.
“Resume the search! Everyone, stay alert!”
After collecting the ears of the dead orc, Jin’s Division moved back into their search formation.
Meanwhile, a man watched their retreating figures from the concealment of a thicket.
Once these brats catch the remaining seven, I can finally go home…
The man, wearing a look of utter boredom, was none other than Murakan.
Mesa believed divine protection was watching over them, but in reality, it was the majesty of the Black Dragon that shielded them.
Murakan had arrived at this unprotected zone of the Kurano Duchy long before Jin’s Division to round up the orcs.
And he had told them this:
“Listen up, you orc bastards. From today on, you move alone. If I see even two of you forming a pack or wandering around together, I’ll kill you all. Got it?”
Mere orcs could never defy the command of the great Black Dragon.
This was especially true when the command was issued through ‘Dragon Tongue,’ the manifestation of a dragon’s absolute authority. Dominating the minds of low-level monsters with Dragon Tongue was as easy as breathing for him.
This was the reason Jin’s Division had only encountered orcs one at a time—a fact they remained blissfully unaware of.
Anyway, it looks like that kid Jin is going to keep asking for these annoying favors for a while. Dammit, is being the Contractor of a Thousand Years everything? Yeah, it is. Hell, it’s a royal title, a damn royal title!
By dawn the next day, Jin’s Division had successfully subjugated the final seven orcs.
“We did it!”
“We actually did it!”
For once, Mesa didn't dampen the mood and joined her comrades in cheering. They had finished the mission a full day ahead of schedule.
“We’ll camp here until the afternoon, then return to the Garden of Swords after we wake up! Night watch will be forty-five minutes per person. The last watch prepares breakfast.”
The camp was established.
Murakan also lay down in the grass near the campsite. He planned to kill time until the afternoon by looking through the erotic picture books he had brought along.
Staring at the illustrations seemed to soothe his irritation. He hadn't been able to enjoy this blissful pastime lately, too busy babysitting human brats—a task he had never expected to have in his life.
When I get back, I’ll have to ask Jin to find me a few limited-edition books. Hehe, when I think about that, the math on this deal isn't so bad—
Snap.
Murakan suddenly slammed the book shut and let out a long sigh.
A dangerous presence had been detected far beyond the perimeter of the campsite. He couldn't yet tell its identity or purpose, but two things were certain.
It was slowly approaching the camp.
And it was considerably powerful.
Looks like I won’t be going home quietly. If this is how it’s going to be, the deal isn't worth it. Where the hell did a guy like this suddenly pop up from?
Tsk!
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Murakan stood up.
Fortunately, the cadets of Jin’s Division were only around the 3-star level. They were not skilled enough to distinguish between the shadows of dawn and a massive barrier, even if Murakan cast one over the entire camp.
Fshhhhhh—!
A massive amount of spirit energy began to gather in Murakan’s palms.
It was spirit energy on a completely different level compared to when he first woke up and met Jin in the basement of Storm Castle. Having spent his time breathing in the abundant spirit energy while staying by Jin’s side, he was gradually reclaiming the power of the Black Dragon that had once shaken the world.
“Hmm?”
As Murakan’s barrier blanketed the entire campsite, Vellop, who was on the first watch, tilted his head in confusion.
It felt as though the surroundings had suddenly grown darker. Vellop didn't notice the barrier; he simply thought the twilight had deepened.
With a heavy sound of rushing wind, Murakan’s entire body began to be enveloped in black energy. A moment later, he stood revealed in his original form as a Black Dragon.
Flap!
Two pairs of massive wings eclipsed the dawn moon. Every monster in the vicinity, as well as every beast and lesser creature, trembled in instinctive terror.
The powerful entity approaching the camp stopped in its tracks. It had sensed Murakan.
[Who dares to reveal their power so recklessly without my permission?]
Murakan streaked across the night sky in an instant. With the dawn moon at his back, the Black Dragon possessed a majesty that could only be described as divine.
There was no answer.
And Murakan was not a merciful soul in his true form. Kiiiiing! Every beat of his wings sent down a pitch-black gale.
It was a storm of shadows. The storm snapped the giant trees of the forest like dry straw as it surged toward the source of the presence.
Only then did the creature crouching in the forest stand up. Upon identifying it, Murakan momentarily ceased his wingbeats.
Its massive body, comparable to a small fortress, was composed entirely of rock. Beneath a helmet forged with ancient magic, red eyes glowed intensely.
In its hands, the creature gripped a massive spear and shield.
It was a being known as a ‘Grave Giant.’
[…Hah, so it wasn't a living thing, but a relic of the old era.]
Murakan’s surprise at seeing the Grave Giant was for a specific reason.
Grave Giants were beings that had vanished two thousand years ago. It was the Dragon Race that had finished off those who once guarded the tombs of dead gods.
In other words, it was a being that should not exist here.
As Murakan slowly descended toward the ground, the Grave Giant raised its shield. For a moment, Murakan was swept up in a strange emotion as he looked down at it.
[However, I can’t say I’m glad to see you.]
Rumble.
The Grave Giant let out a coarse, wheezing breath and lowered its stance. Murakan, who had been reminiscing about the ancient war, tightened his scales.
He was preparing to unleash his breath. Even if it left traces behind, he needed to end the Grave Giant in a single blow.
Darkness gathered between Murakan’s parted jaws. It took only a few seconds to gather enough spirit energy to blanket an entire mountain range.
Chiiiing!
The moment the breath was fired, the surroundings were momentarily plunged into absolute darkness. The Grave Giant dropped to one knee and hid its body behind its shield, but it could do nothing against Murakan’s full power.
“Groooo…!”
A final death rattle was all the Grave Giant could manage, just like the end of its brethren who had faced the dragons two thousand years ago.
Patter, patter.
When the breath finally dissipated, only stone dust rained down where the Grave Giant had once stood.
“Haa… haa…!”
As soon as the battle ended, Murakan transformed back into a human, his breathing ragged. His body felt like it was breaking apart from using so much power for the first time in a long while.
There’s no way a Grave Giant just happened to be here by chance. Dammit, no matter how I look at it, this has to be related to the Zipple. Just what the hell is happening in this world?
After a moment of contemplation, Murakan shook his head in annoyance.
For now, it’s better not to tell Jin. If anything happens, I’ll just protect him. If the kid grows well for just ten more years… I’ll start to see a path toward taking on the Zipple.
*
The next morning, in the basement of Bubar Gaston’s sculpting workshop.
Bubar was pacing the basement with his massive, obese frame. He was biting his thumb incessantly, his mind frantic with anxiety.
Creak.
A man entered the basement. He wore a form-fitting coat and had sharp, piercing eyes. This cold-looking man was Vishkel Ivliano.
He was the Vice Captain of the revolutionary organization, ‘Kinzelo.’
“Vi-Vishkel-nim! We have a problem! My masterpiece, my masterpieeece!”
“…I’ve already heard the report. The Grave Giant was destroyed last night.”
“That’s right! Ugh, who could have done such a terrible thing…! To have no appreciation for the soul of art!”
Vishkel let out a sigh.
It was lamentable that this idiot shouting about his ‘artistic soul’ was absolutely necessary to achieve Kinzelo’s Great Work.
“Bubar. Your artistic soul isn't what’s important right now. The thing that destroyed the Grave Giant last night was a dragon.”
“A-A dragon?”
“Yes. And one that manipulates shadows, at that. I’m on my way back from confirming it myself.”
Vishkel’s nerves were frayed to the breaking point.
This was the Great Work that Kinzelo had been preparing for five hundred years.
Now that the plan was reaching its final stages, an accident had suddenly occurred. What’s more, most dragons active today were aligned with the Zipple.
Bubar stopped his fussing.
“…This can’t be. Have the dragons already noticed our Great Work? And a dragon of shadows, you say?”
“Nothing is certain yet, but the warning seems clear. I’ll be arranging a meeting with the Zipple soon, so you keep a close eye on things here for the time being. I’ll assign some capable men to you.”
“Understood, ugh! Ah, but Vishkel-nim. Have you had breakfast? I’m craving sweet potato croquettes.”
Vishkel barely suppressed his rising rage as he spoke.
He vowed once again that one day, he would kill this disgusting man with his own hands.
“…Fine. I’ll go buy some, and we can eat together.”
“Hehe, wonderful. Please bring some fresh milk as well when you come back.”