Chapter 371
Chapter 371
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 371
>Chapter Title: Wasn't It? It Is, Right?
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thud thud thud, thud—
Footsteps shaking the earth.
The ground was a living hellscape painted by a chaotic horde of monsters.
Exposed to the Gold Horse Riders' inexplicable magic, the monsters charged toward Megarium while tearing into each other without restraint, fangs and claws flashing.
Two instincts drove the monsters.
Hunger and survival.
Eat.
Stuff themselves endlessly, even if their jaws split and bellies burst, to sate the endless void. Yet they didn't devour each other—they kept running.
Survival.
The will to live.
Stop, and the surging masses behind would rip you apart. To live, they had to run.
But it wasn't just blind flight for survival.
The monsters ahead were tempting prey, stirring their hunger.
And so, the monsters ran forward.
To survive.
To eat.
In that tide, even an ogre, king of the mountains, was just a tasty hunk of meat. Even goblins at the bottom of the food chain sometimes became predators.
The moment any monster fell, it became fodder.
But one exception.
[You pathetic worms...!]
The black wyvern—Yongyong—stood firm against the monster wave, unleashing its might.
Tough ogre hide was paper-thin before its fierce jaws. Trolls' endless regeneration meant nothing against its talons.
Each lash of its tail sent small monsters flying in mangled heaps. A flap of its wings toppled even the large ones.
But...
...It wasn't enough.
Small monsters peeled away, only for blood-scent seekers to swarm in. Fallen giants charged again, fearless.
Grooooaaar—!
Yongyong roared to break the tide, but for some reason, it didn't faze these frenzied beasts.
...Surely that eerie energy was to blame.
Yongyong was certain.
It couldn't use magic now, right after exposure to that unholy aura.
[What the—!]
Yongyong roared in fury, unable to grasp the nightmare unfolding.
...When it sensed the eerie energy and descended, it found a bizarre human "magic circle" etched on the ground, with a black crystal atop it.
Until then, Yongyong hadn't dreamed of disaster.
- Flash!
To be precise, no danger dawned until that sinister black crystal pulsed with light, spewing foul energy.
What did Yongyong do then?
...Followed instinct.
- Dangerous.
It knew instinctively: if that energy spread, catastrophe. Reflexively, it unleashed its will.
But that was a mistake.
The aimless aura latched onto the will, greedily invading its body.
One mercy: even drenched in the stuff, Yongyong kept its sanity.
The misfortune? That crystal wasn't the only one.
- Groooaaar!
- Kieeek! Kyak!
Monsters' cries erupted everywhere.
Sensing something amiss, Yongyong took to the skies. But hit dead-on by the aura, its body faltered.
Wings weakened, like a wyvern fresh from the egg.
The red dragon heart had bulked Yongyong up. Flight now demanded dozens of times more power than other wyverns.
Full wing strength turned its mass into a weapon. But weakening, it became dead weight.
In the end...
- ...Thud!
Yongyong crashed onto the open plain. No fear, though.
It served a great being.
Before that, a weakened body might've shaken its ego.
But Yongyong felt no terror.
Step by step.
It advanced.
Then—
- Thud thud thud, thud...!
Earth-shaking footsteps.
Turning, Yongyong saw them.
A black tide of monsters surging from afar.
Cloaked in eerie energy, charging.
That alone, Yongyong might've ignored.
But it halted and roared.
Why?
Their path led straight to the great being.
- You worms! Turn back!
They didn't. Worse, some veered toward Yongyong, fresh meat in their eyes.
That's when Yongyong sensed the wrongness.
And its end.
...That was Yongyong's tale.
[You lowly scum! Die! How dare you approach the great one!]
It knew thrashing wouldn't stop the horde.
Still, Yongyong flapped wings wide, lashed tail, tore and crunched monsters—to claim even one more.
But its scales, tough as they were, were flesh.
It started small.
Scratch...!
Blood beaded on the gash, scent igniting hunger.
Kieeeek! Kyak!
Kiek!
Scratches piled up. One to two, two to three... Soon, Yongyong's body was blood-soaked.
Scratches gaped into wounds.
[You bastards...!]
Yongyong thrashed wildly with a bellow. Monsters flew off—briefly.
Kieeeek!
They clung fiercer.
Yongyong fought valiantly, but couldn't hold them all.
It knew.
‘...This is it.’
No regrets.
It met the great one, exchanged brief words.
- This Yongyong failed its duty. Forgive me.
No reply, but fine.
Too lowly for the great one's care.
‘At least it's safe.’
That cunning human would protect it.
A disgrace to humanity, but reliable there.
Ruthless guardian of its pack.
...Strength fading.
Groooaaar—!
Yongyong cried out.
No former vigor.
Here now: no black wyvern ruling Arafur's skies, no guardian of the great one.
Just a dying monster.
Nothing more.
Crunch, crrrunch!
Crack!
Talons and fangs pierced scales, gouged flesh. Wing membranes shredded to bone frames. Still, Yongyong thrashed, crushing foes.
No former power.
Thus.
‘It's... over.’
All strength gone.
Boom—!
The massive body hit dirt.
Blood-scent drew monsters greedily.
The wave's main force had passed, but stragglers feasting on corpses remained aplenty. They swarmed Yongyong.
‘Great... one...’
Yongyong closed its eyes.
...Then.
"Fuck, my ride."
A faint voice in its ears.
As consciousness faded, Yongyong thought:
‘Hallucinations, of all things... Cunning bastard. Should've been you dying here.’
Vain wish.
That was Yongyong's last memory.
* * *
Right after Yongyong blacked out.
[Friend, Yongyong. Dying? Yongyong?]
Instead of answering the fretting wyvern, Aster resonated his circle. Transcendence unfolded alongside.
Circle's mana interference overlapped transcendence.
Thought accelerated.
Kiiiiieeeek......
Kyaaaak......
Monster cries warped strangely; blood spray froze midair, defying gravity.
Monsters clung to Yongyong; its breaths came ragged, near end.
A normal mage couldn't act rashly here, but Aster moved mana instantly.
His transcendence touched 'Dragon Tongue' partially.
Magic seen once could be willed into being.
Aster recalled the barrier Yongyong once used to shake him off.
Rising from skin to repel foes.
...Yongyong had copied Aster's barrier once; now Aster copied back.
He didn't know its inner workings.
Principle unknown—just insight-cast magic.
Szzz—
Ambient mana answered his will.
Soon.
Boom...!
Time resumed; shockwave blasted. Monsters flew off in all directions.
Then.
Szzzt, szzzzt!
Radiant light seeped into Yongyong. A miracle followed.
Torn flesh from monster bites regrew with fresh scales.
Wing membranes mended pristine; ragged scales gleamed anew.
[Yongyong!]
The wyvern cheered.
[Friend! Two moonstones!]
Highest praise.
But Aster, ignoring it, reached into the air. Unreleased transcendence resonated with the circle, binding mana.
Soon—
Crunch, crrrunch!
Crack!
Rending sounds echoed.
A variant of the Demonic Prison.
Aster didn't stop—shattered every monster corpse scattered about, just in case.
Only then did he turn to the wyvern.
"Two?"
The wyvern pondered Aster's question. Then...
[Th-three, three.]
Aster smirked at the generous wyvern.
"Yeah, I'll call it three. But doesn't that mean three deducted per day?"
[...?]
"Wasn't it? It is, right? That's how I heard it. If that's how I got it, then that's probably it."
[Wh-what? What do you mean?]
The wyvern stammered, eyes welling. Most would fold, call it a joke. Aster wasn't most.
"Oh, shoulda specified what 'three' meant."
Daily total: six moonstones.
‘Just six more to go.’
As the wyvern sulked and Aster steeled resolve—
Grrrrrrk—
A weird rumble echoed.
"...?"
Aster glanced absently, then froze at the ominous vibe.
Action outpaced thought.
[Fr-friend? What’s that?]
The wyvern hid behind Aster's blocking form, peeking at the 'something' ahead.
It was...
Grrrrk, glurk, clunk.
A corpse.
A monster's pulverized remains.
But the aura within was unnatural.
Like...
‘...Demonic beast.’
Like those from Prezen's demon realm before.
Difference: sheer demonic power.
Those were fireflies; this was the sun.
As Aster thought that—
Clunk.
The demonic 'something' creaked upright. It formed a 'mouth'-like organ, twitching it.
[Can you hear me? Damn... you smashed me good. All it can fix is a mouth? Heh heh.]
An old man's voice.
Aster knew instantly.
That voice was the culprit.
...Thus, Salvatium's Fourth Elder met the Tower Lord.
On a perfectly ordinary summer day.