Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: The Valley of Death
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Crunch, crunch, craaaack!
The bone-chilling sound shattered the silence of the mountain range.
For an ogre, hailed as the king of the forest, hearing such a displeasing noise should have warranted smashing the culprit's head without hesitation.
Unfortunately, the ogre couldn't pass judgment on the perpetrator.
Not when its belly had been ripped open, entrails spilling out, and every scrap of flesh from its head devoured by a drake.
No ogre could move under those circumstances.
Crunch, crunch, craaaack!
The drake, gnawing away the last bits of flesh clinging to the ogre's skull with that grating friction, finally seemed satisfied. Blood dripping from its maw, it slunk away from the spot.
Or tried to.
Krunch!
That is, until another lesser dragon species—a dragon turtle—ambushed from the left and clamped down on the drake's neck.
"Kieeeek!"
"Grrrrrr!"
The drake that had been devouring the ogre's head let out a agonized screech, but with its vital neck under attack, escape was impossible.
Besides, no monster could match a dragon turtle's bite force. The drake's death was already sealed.
"Ki... eek..."
Soon, the drake's tongue lolled out, and it went limp. The dragon turtle then seized the fallen drake's belly and tore into it savagely.
Snap, rip!
Drake blood splattered over the ogre's half-digested flesh—it was a scene straight out of hell.
Slash!
As if unwilling to witness the gruesome sight any longer, a giant wielding a greatsword severed the dragon turtle's neck.
The dragon turtle died without even registering its own end; no trace of pain showed on its face.
Thud! Thud! Roll...
The head—big as a man's torso—tumbled to a stop right in front of the group.
Many in the group watching this sequence had gone pale as ghosts.
"Urp...!!"
"Bleurgh!"
Some humans couldn't stomach the horror and vomited up their guts.
Even the orcs and lycanthropes, hardened residents of the mountains who'd seen plenty of atrocities, looked queasy.
"Chwiik!"
"Grrr... So this is the Valley of Death, ruled by lesser dragons..."
Indeed.
Our group—orcs, cyclopes, and lycanthropes included—had reached the northwest mountains, domain of the lesser dragons.
-Chwiik! Brace yourselves once we arrive. I don't know everything about this world, but...
Hatan had warned us beforehand.
-Chwiik! If asked for the most hellish spot in the Dragon Mountains, it'd be this place. Chwiik!
Hatan's words were no exaggeration.
This land, "ruled" by lesser dragons where none held clear dominance, wasn't hyperbole.
It was true hell, where you thanked the gods just to survive each day.
"The wyvern's holed up deepest in the northwest, right?"
Crack!
I slowly flexed my stiff, cold fingers.
In a mad place like this, even a master couldn't guarantee safety.
I needed to prime my body for combat at any moment.
"Chwiik! What're you lot gawking at?"
Ever the veteran, Hatan snapped at the dawdlers and got to work.
"Night falls fast here. Chwiik! If we don't make shelter now, the nocturnal assaults begin. Chwiik!"
Hatan and the orcs were flipping the dragon turtle's headless body onto Bronte's back.
Then, with a few orcs, they started scooping out its innards, shell intact.
"Northwest is freezing. Chwiik! Hurry and make a windbreak, or we'll freeze. Chwiik!"
"Mm!"
At Hatan's words, the cyclopes—including Bronte—lived up to their craftsman rep. They felled nearby trees to build shelter.
Better to craft one suited to their massive frames than hunt for a natural fit.
Naturally, the two useless races just stood there, staring blankly.
"Chwiik! You idiots, quit sitting on your asses—scout the perimeter! Territory shifts endlessly here. Check for other threats. Chwiik!"
Irritated by the sight, Hatan barked orders at the humans and lycanthropes.
"Grrr. Yeah, got it."
Even Baukalrak, who'd burned with defiance despite witnessing Hatan's might, now obeyed meekly.
The lycanthropes' faces were grim.
This Valley of Death would become their territory if the wyvern hunt succeeded.
The harsh brutality of this barren land was already rearing its head.
"Let's move too."
As I led Saladin and the others to scout, Aria called us back.
"Wait a sec."
She pointed her staff at the leftover wood scraps the cyclopes had trimmed.
"Fireball!"
Whoosh!
Aria conjured instant torches in a flash and handed them out.
"It's cold, but we need them for visibility too."
"Oh, thanks, milady. It was getting brutal out h—"
Sizzle!
Saladin reached for one, but Beskin and I snuffed every flame with snow.
"Wh-what?! Why'd you put 'em out? It's freezing!"
"You nuts? Trying to advertise our position to every lesser dragon?"
Lesser dragons were heat-sensitive by nature. Warmth and light like that? It was begging to be targeted.
Aria's face fell in dismay at having her efforts wasted.
"S-sorry. I just thought..."
"Hmph. You know how to make fire, but not when to use it."
"...!!"
Set smirked, as if she'd missed the obvious, and Aria flushed crimson.
"Enough. Let's go. We gotta hustle back before sundown."
To cut off any brewing spat and waste more time, I dispersed the tension and headed opposite Baukalrak's group.
My senses picked up two things as we moved.
First: Set's sigh of relief, having been a hair slower than Aria to unleash her Extreme Yang energy.
Second: A massive bird—no, lizard—perched on a distant tall tree.
It took flight as we stirred, heading somewhere.
The Cimaria, pride of the Grand Maria Fleet.
No ordinary soul captained her from Laurent Port, the Empire's northernmost major harbor, where she always posted top earnings.
Only battle-hardened veterans qualified for the post—one who survived sea monsters and relentless icy storms.
Even those vets fell to the brutal northern waters, claiming Cimaria captains steadily.
Yet the allure of "northern seas' greatest captain" drew challengers, making the seat forever coveted.
Captain Jang had held it for over 15 years—a true legend.
Unlike others chewed up in 2–5 years, Jang endured by never overreaching.
Skirt monster-infested waters. Recall nearby uninhabited isles at the first bad weather sign.
His restraint always saved his neck.
Until today.
Jang faced breaking his unbreakable 15-year rule.
"I said advance."
"N-no further. That's Leviathan territory."
Jang pleaded with the new passengers, face near tears.
Leviathan.
A serpentine sea dragon, unchallenged underwater among lesser dragons.
To sailors, it was the Grim Reaper—encounter meant death.
No ship, Cimaria or otherwise, survived it.
'Damn branch leader! How much did they pay you to stick me with these lunatics?!'
Jang cursed the fleet leader inwardly.
Never resist. Obey every order.
These greenhorns knew zilch about ships.
Blind obedience on these savage seas? Suicide.
'After this voyage, I'm switching fleets for sure.'
Grinding his teeth, set on ditching his old connection, Jang saw the man ignore him.
"Last warning. Advance."
"I c-can't. We'll die. For real."
Jang dug in with sailor stubbornness.
"I see."
Mercifully, the man nodded, seemingly convinced.
"Yes. Going ahead is suicide—?!"
Slash!
A slicing sound rang out, and Jang couldn't comprehend the sudden deck drop.
Until moments later.
His legs lay beside him.
"A-aaargh!!! My legs!!"
"If words fail, the whip must speak."
The man nodded to his companions. A woman sighed and stepped forward.
"Really, Marquis Schopf. That's your problem. Always fists before talk."
"I was patient this time."
"Brag all you want."
Grumbling, she picked up Jang's severed legs and approached.
"Great Heal."
Flash!
Dazzling white light shone, and Jang's legs regrew pristine.
"Wh-what...? My... legs...?"
Jang couldn't process the absurdity.
Legs hacked off, then reattached like toys.
Regardless of Jang's shock, the pair chatted casually.
"I said heal, not reattach."
"Tch. Schopf, that's your issue. He's an imperial subject, a child of the church. Punishment alone isn't the answer."
Light banter.
But the names dropped hit Jang hard.
"Sch-Schopf? N-no... His Excellency, one of the Four Marquises?!"
Schopf grimaced at Jang's outburst.
"Tch, Luna. You blew my cover."
Another name from Schopf's lips left Jang numb.
Luna.
The radiant Virgin Palace pillar among the Empire's Golden Lion Church's Twelve Pillars.
"Hehe. Word was bound to spread once we got this far."
Dismissing Schopf's reproach, Luna crouched before Jang.
"See, Captain? That guy's a bit brutish. Keep defying, and you might get hurt bad."
She beamed sweetly, but it terrified Jang more.
"Refuse again... and it won't be legs."
Luna stroked Jang's head with a smile.
"Hehe! Lose this, and even I can't fix it."
Her gentle touch chilled the weathered sailor to the bone.
"W-we'll go! Turning the ship now!"
Scrambling up, Jang ordered the crew toward the Dragon Mountains' inner seas.
Leviathans scared him, but these monsters terrified him more.
And he had faith.
'They won't fall to some Leviathan.'
Fourth Marquis. Twelfth Archbishop.
Fearsome as Leviathans were, before them? Just oversized snake pups.
Plus, their six companions—all likely equals in stature, unmasked.
While useful, they'd be protected.
...Until they weren't, anyway.
"Hehe! Smart captains make everything easier."
Unaware—or uncaring—of Jang's turmoil, Luna's bright laugh echoed across the deck.