Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: The Repelling Magic
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Returning to the place we'd left behind, we found the Dragon Turtle's shell neatly trimmed and massive cabins constructed around it.
“Chwiik! You're late.”
Hatan emerged from inside the Dragon Turtle's shell and spoke.
It seemed this Dragon Turtle served as a dwelling for Hatan and a few other tribal leaders.
“What about the other orcs?”
“Chwiik! They dug into the ground around the shell and covered it with branches. That way, the sub-dragons won't spot them.”
The sun had already set, so we hadn't noticed earlier, but sure enough, there were signs of the earth being excavated around the Dragon Turtle's shell.
Any clueless sub-dragon that stumbled in would get caught by that thin layer of soil first.
“Chwiik. Though I doubt we'll draw attention because of those things anyway.”
Hatan glanced around as he spoke.
And he was right—the cabins built by the cyclopes were staggeringly huge.
Meant for cyclopes nearly five meters tall, their scale was on another level entirely.
Sub-dragons came in large sizes too, but even they wouldn't dare attack after seeing those cabins.
“Preparations look solid.”
It was only natural, really.
Hatan had gotten burned badly in Death Valley before, so he wasn't about to let his guard down.
And the cyclopes, as the dominant race in the northeast mountains, weren't about to yield to any sub-dragons.
“Chwiik! Of course. Anyway, did you find out anything?”
“We'll talk once Baukalrak and Brontes get here. No point explaining twice.”
Soon enough, the lycanthropes arrived, and the leaders of each race gathered in Brontes's cabin.
Tatak, tatak.
They'd even built a fire pit by then—the cabin's interior was warm, a stark contrast to the frigid mountain air outside.
“Grrr. I'll start.”
Baukalrak, who had led the lycanthropes, spoke first.
We had passed through the cyclopes' territory, Gaia, heading west to hunt wyverns.
There were two paths from here to the wyvern nests.
The first was the one the lycanthropes had scouted—straight northwest, the shorter and easier route.
“Grrr! The direction we checked had surprisingly few sub-dragons. We spotted some big ones here and there, but nothing we couldn't handle.”
'Looks like we've got our answer.'
The path I'd scouted ran southwest.
A bit gentler, but longer.
The reason I'd checked it despite the extra distance was simple.
If the sub-dragons were far more numerous along Baukalrak's route, taking the detour might still get us there faster.
But if he was right, heading straight northwest would mean shorter travel time and fewer fights.
“Hmmm!”
“Chwiik! Then northwest...”
Hatan and Brontes seemed to share the sentiment, inwardly leaning toward the path Baukalrak had confirmed.
But Baukalrak himself, who had actually scouted it, furrowed his brow.
“Grrr! But... for some reason, I didn't want to go any further.”
“...?”
“...What?”
His unexpected words drew everyone's gaze.
Feeling it, Baukalrak scratched his head in frustration.
“It's exactly that, grrr! I don't know why either... but it felt like I absolutely shouldn't go ahead.”
It was baffling, but for some reason...
'...This reeks of something off.'
“Hm? Jerome, did you figure something out?”
Brontes noticed my pensive expression amid Baukalrak's odd behavior.
I laid out everything that struck me as strange.
Why there were so unusually many sub-dragons in the southwest.
How creatures weak to cold could be so active.
And why they never left the southwest sector, just endlessly clashing within Death Valley.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Once I'd shared my thoughts, the others fell deep into contemplation too.
“...It is weird. The upper path has few sub-dragons, yet it feels wrong to proceed. The lower path is crawling with them, making it hard to even approach.”
Brontes and Hatan were just as baffled—this was uncharted territory for them.
Baukalrak might lag behind Hatan or me, but he was still a warrior on par with an advanced Expert.
The lycanthropes with him were similarly skilled, give or take.
Elite warriors and scouts like them wouldn't balk without reason.
“Um...”
Aria, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.
“This... feels like magic, doesn't it?”
“Magic?”
“Yes. Baukalrak, would you try holding this?”
Aria pulled a small orb from her pocket dimension and lightly tossed it to him.
“What's th—grk?!”
Baukalrak caught it reflexively, then flung it to the floor in horror moments later.
Tok! Degurururu.
It rolled right to my feet.
Swipe.
I picked up the orb Aria had thrown.
“...Feels fine to me?”
“Grrr! What are you talking about? The moment I touched it, this disgusting sensation shot up from my tail tip—like I'd grabbed shit!”
Baukalrak whipped his tail wildly and rubbed his nose with his forepaw, refusing to go near it.
“...Hatan, you try.”
I naturally offered it to Hatan next.
He touched it and, while not as extreme as Baukalrak, tossed it away with a grimace.
“Chwiik! What is this? It feels... really foul. Chwiik!”
“...?”
All eyes turned to Brontes in unison at Hatan's reaction.
As if sharing the thought, Brontes took the orb without a word.
“...Hm!”
He squinted his single eye and handed it back to Aria.
“...Not pleasant for me either. Quite the unpleasant sensation.”
“...As expected.”
Aria took it back, murmuring as if confirmed.
“Miss, what is this thing?”
“Ah, this is...”
Aria paused oddly mid-explanation.
“...a magic orb designed to keep people—or anything—from approaching. If Baukalrak felt repelled for no reason, and there are no sub-dragons around... this could be why.”
“Chwiik!”
“Hah! Magic, huh... No wonder we couldn't tell.”
Hatan and Brontes nodded.
They were far removed from magic, so they wouldn't sense it.
But that raised one question.
“Grrr. Then why are you and Jerome unaffected?”
“Those frequently exposed to magic don't pick up on this spell well. We've both lived around it constantly.”
Aria answered without meeting Baukalrak's eyes, for some reason.
Clap!
I clapped to shift the mood.
“Alright, then we're taking the lower path. No one else can use the upper one anyway.”
Baukalrak agreed first.
“Grrr! Exactly. The upper path felt way worse than that orb. I'd rather fight sub-dragons on the lower path!”
As he thumped the ground emphatically, Hatan and Brontes voiced no objections.
The displeasure from the orb lingered vividly in their minds.
“In that case, we'll scout the upper path today. We're unaffected, and magic blanketing these mountains isn't something to ignore.”
Plus, the upper path was much shorter. We could investigate and still rendezvous in time.
“Got it. We'll head lower.”
Brontes agreed. The long meeting had burned down the central fire, its warmth fading.
As we wrapped up, Hatan grabbed his axe and stood.
“Chwiik! From here to the lower path, it'll take about a week to reach the wyvern habitat at Abyss Cliff, generously. See you there in seven days.”
“Ah, Hatan. Take this.”
Aria handed small pouches to Hatan as he rose, and to Baukalrak and Brontes.
“Signal flares. Fire them when you reach the wyvern habitat. Just in case we miss each other.”
Hatan smirked as he took one.
“Chwiik, won't you arrive first? The upper path should get you there in three days at most.”
He clearly thought little of the magic.
After the meeting,
each race returned to their dwellings to rest.
Our group—smallest in number but most elite—had our own chat.
“Miss Aria, that spell earlier... it's not just for keeping people away, is it?”
Saladin asked knowingly.
“...Yes, right. It's for repelling monsters and animals.”
As expected.
Brontes, Hatan, and Baukalrak had brushed it off due to ignorance of magic.
But the spell on the orb was Spook, which preyed on the sharper senses of beasts and monsters to deter approach.
Aria had phrased it vaguely to avoid alarming them—no need to mention it repelled insects too.
“Miss, is this spell normally that easy to cast on such a scale?”
Before oblivious Saladin could pry further, I jumped in, and Aria caught on.
“...The spell itself isn't high-tier. In Fran Kingdom, it's common in artifacts even serfs use daily. But...”
Her eyes grew more serious.
“To blanket the vast Dragon Mountains on this scale, repelling even higher beings... Whoever cast it isn't ordinary.”
“I see.”
A vast access-denial spell over this uninhabited land.
Plus the sub-dragons swarming the lower path.
'Something's definitely up.'
Even with my past-life memories, I couldn't know every event on this vast continent.
But my instincts screamed.
What was happening in Death Valley rivaled the gravity of my previous life's crises.
Holy Empire's capital, Vatican.
Ivarella gazed at the northern lands bathed in sunset.
Fine weather like this was rare in the harsh imperial territory, so she savored the brief respite.
“Hm, nice weather for once...?”
Bam!
Her tranquility shattered as a man flung the door open.
“...Livia.”
“Yes, Livia reporting! You had me slaving away scraping floors in a fit, then lounge around yourself?!”
The intruder was Livia of the Golden Lion Church's White Sheep Palace.
Who else in the Empire would dare such insolence toward Ivarella?
Despite recent political setbacks, she remained a top imperial candidate—no one with sense would risk it.
'Now that's more like Livia.'
Ivarella actually welcomed it.
Regardless, Livia vented her rage.
“Third Princess, have you lost it? Forming Wyvern Knights, you said. But you're just watching sunsets? You told Camille Duke to hunt wyverns, then did nothing. Don't you know First and Second Princes sent men to Laurent Port?”
It was odd. The princes' secret dispatch of elites to Dragon Mountains shouldn't have leaked.
Livia knowing was strange, but Ivarella's inaction despite it was stranger.
Third Princess Ivarella replied calmly to Livia's grilling.
“Not doing it. They won't return anyway.”
“?”
As Livia blinked in confusion, Ivarella smiled faintly.
“There's a monster there.”