Chapter 134
Chapter 134
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: Wyvern Egg Heist
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Whiiiiiing!
“Uwaaaaaah!! We’re falling! We’re gonna fall! Following this lunatic is gonna get me killed for sure!!”
A bone-chilling gale whipped between the cliffs, and Saladin, clinging desperately to the rock face as he climbed, let out a wail of despair.
“That’s why I told you to wait below. Beskin and I could’ve handled it just fine.”
I called back to him, having pulled ahead by a step, but Saladin just snorted, swallowing snot as the wind whipped it across his face.
“Hah! Am I crazy? Mimi and Nene won’t even budge in this godforsaken place. You want me to stay down there alone? Offering me up as lizard chow like some kinda sacrifice?”
“...Man, you’re really useless.”
“Hey, didn’t you just say something super insulting? Huh?”
“Ugh, whatever. Let’s not talk anymore.”
Pfook!
I ignored Saladin’s grumbling and jammed my hand—fortified with steel and aura—deep into the moss-slick cliff face.
Not to be outdone, Beskin shaped the rock with ice and climbed up after me, while Saladin trailed close behind using his threads.
Why were Saladin and Beskin scaling this cliff with me?
To steal the wyverns’ eggs from the nests up top, that’s why.
“Quit whining and hurry up. The bait and wind-up teams will only hold the wyverns’ attention while the sun’s still up. We’ve gotta finish before then.”
We’d arrived at the Abyss Cliffs a few days ahead of Hatan’s group, and we’d been racking our brains over how to take down the wyverns perched above.
After scouting every inch of the terrain nearby, we’d reached an easy conclusion.
Storming straight up there to hunt wyverns is flat-out impossible.
So why not flip the script? What mattered to us was the goal: hunting wyverns. The method didn’t.
That’s why we scrapped the “charge in” plan and went with “lure them out” instead.
Here’s how it went down.
First, Bronteus and the Cyclopes build catapults at a safe distance.
With their massive size, they’re bound to catch the wyverns’ eyes from up top.
They make as much noise as possible to grab the wyverns’ attention.
Look at those weirdos building something odd.
Next, Hatan and Baucalark play bait, leading their tribes in a noisy sweep of the area.
Wyverns massacred Hatan’s old subordinates once before, so they’ll surely dive in for a repeat ambush on the orcs.
That’s when Aria and Set pick them off in the air with fire, scorching their wings and forcing them down.
Hatan or Baucalark finish off the crash-landed ones.
Finally, the three of us.
While the wyverns are fixated on the bait and wind-up teams, we sneak into their nests and snatch every egg and hatchling.
Wyverns aren’t numerous and dote on their young, so when they realize we’ve taken their eggs, they’ll come charging down to retrieve them—eyes blazing red with rage.
“You devil. Even Satan’d shed a tear at that ruthless plan, mocking their maternal instincts like that.”
Saladin had shaken his head when I first laid it out.
The others didn’t voice it like him, but I could tell they hesitated at the idea of targeting the young.
“Fine, whatever. I won’t force anyone squeamish about a little dirty play when the resolve to win isn’t there.”
“......”
Bronteus needed wyvern kills to boost his influence with his tribe.
I needed their wing membranes to craft dispel weapons.
Hatan? Revenge for his fallen comrades—no need to explain.
“We didn’t come here to mess around. Cowardly or not, if you lack the guts to see it through, bail now.”
Everyone steeled themselves after that... except Saladin, who whined he was out. So I dragged him along in a huff.
“Wahhh. Such is my fate... When we get back, I’m cutting ties with that bastard for good.”
“Do what you want. Catch you in the south later.”
“Damn it all!”
As I tossed some “warm” encouragement at Saladin—shivering and wiping his nose in the biting cold and wind—we reached the cliff’s edge.
Thud!
I peeked over the ledge to scout the wyverns’ movements.
No sign of them anywhere in sight. At least none nearby.
Well, duh.
Most were off attacking the bait and wind-up teams.
I signaled all clear, and Saladin and Beskin hauled themselves up.
“Alright, let’s move.”
The sun, highest when we started climbing, was now dipping toward the west.
Time was short.
“Kyaaaaak!”
Kwajik!
A lesser drake charged with its jagged yellow fangs bared, only for a hefty axe to cleave into its neck.
Blood sprayed from the beast’s neck as it died with a clueless look on its face. Hatan casually wiped the splatter from his own.
“Chwiik. Not yet?”
He glared skyward with eyes burning impatience, frustration, and strange hunger, but the sky stayed innocently blue—no hint of wyverns targeting him or his orcs.
How much time passed? As Hatan mechanically hacked at lesser drakes with a blank face, a twisted smile crept across his lips.
“Chwiik. Finally.”
At the gorge where the Abyss Cliffs began.
Above it, wyverns licked their chops, eyeing them down.
“Chwiik. You’re Aria, right?”
Hatan called to the mage, who arrived shielded by orc riders.
“Chwik. Can you give those lizards up there a real shock?”
“Just a sec, let me calculate the distance...”
Aria nodded.
“Yes, at this range... If we get a bit closer, it’ll work fine. But wyverns have crazy magic resistance—their hides shrug off my spells. You okay with that?”
Jerome hadn’t asked her or Set for kills anyway, but she needed clear confirmation.
“Chwiik. How far can you push it?”
“Hm... Dropping those wyverns to the ground?”
Hatan’s grin deepened.
“Chwik. Perfect.”
The wyverns ambushed above the gorge drooled at the feast ahead.
Once those dumb orcs entered, they’d nudge the piled rocks over the edge.
“Kiiiiiik.”
Watching orcs scramble and get crushed sounded fun enough, but snatching survivors mid-escape and dropping them from the sky? Even better sport.
“Kiiiiiik...?”
But as they gleamed with anticipation for the slaughter, the wyverns cocked their heads.
Suddenly, the orcs halted right at the gorge’s mouth—like they’d rehearsed it.
And moments later.
Rumble rumble roooar!
The gorge quaked violently, then an explosion rocked the ground beneath the wyverns.
Kwaaaaaang!
“Kiiiiik?!”
The blast erupted right under them.
Unable to flee, the wyverns collided nonstop with tumbling rocks and boulders from the collapse, plummeting to the earth.
Thud! Boom! KABOOM!
Massive wyverns crashing down kicked up dust clouds like you wouldn’t believe.
“Kiiiiik...?!”
Their tough hides weren’t for show—even slamming face-first into the ground, most stood right up unscathed.
But ahead of them stood a band of orcs, led by one glowing vivid orange, weapons at the ready.
“Chwik. Finally.”
Kwaaaaak!
The orange orc at the front gripped his axe so hard veins bulged across his body—arms, even his whole frame.
Then Hatan swung ferociously at the wyverns.
Kwajik!
“Finally.”
Crack!
“Finally.”
Slaaash!
“Chwiik. Now I can send gifts to my subordinates who went to Valhalla first.”
As Hatan butchered the wyvern before him, orcs astride dire wolves charged the downed ones everywhere.
“Chwiiiiik!”
“Chwiik!”
A raw battlefield of pure murderous fury and brute strength. Aria watched from a step back, facing the primal savagery.
...Looks like it helped.
The spell that collapsed the gorge: 6th-circle Earthquake.
Back in Fran Kingdom, it was beyond her level.
But she hadn’t slacked.
Teetering at 5th-circle’s edge, crises with Jerome had pushed her to 6th.
Mana remained plenty even after.
Still, she held back from aiding the rampaging orcs.
Hatan had asked.
“Chwik. Once the wyverns hit the ground, can you leave them all to us?”
“Huh? But...”
“Chwiik. Please.”
An orc, yet more polite than most humans Aria knew. Perks of being a high orc?
As she watched the orcs carve into wyverns, Aria glanced up at the cliffs and murmured.
“Young Master Jerome, things here are going to plan so far. Just...”
Can’t vouch for the wyverns’ hide conditions.
“Kieeeek!”
A shrieking wyvern dove at the earth.
Target: the wolf standing on hind legs. Salivating for exotic prey it’d never tasted, it gaped wide.
“Kraaaang!”
The wolf—lycanthrope—dodged at the last second, kicked off a tree, and landed on the wyvern’s back.
“Grrr!”
Kwajik!
As the lycanthrope crunched its fangs into the wyvern’s nape, the beast wailed in agony.
“Kieeeek!”
No matter their tough hides, wyverns faced a combat-tuned beastkin.
Those teeth and claws weren’t blunt.
They pierced at last, and the lycanthrope jammed claws into the gap, raking deep.
Shraaaaa!
“Kieeeek!”
The wyvern thrashed in torment.
Unlike orcs with heavy weapons, lycanthropes couldn’t finish wyverns easily like this.
That’s why.
“Grrr, human! Now!”
“Got it!”
The human clinging to Baucalark’s back plunged a fist into the wound.
“Flame Dragon!”
Fwooooosh!
“Kieee...!”
Fire straight into its innards—not the hide—sent the wyvern rolling eyes-back as it plummeted.
Baucalark leaped off mid-fall, landing gracefully.
“Grrr! Human, this way next!”
Lycanthropes pointed to wyverns pinned earthbound, throats crushed.
“If you can hold ‘em like that, just do it from the start!”
No need for all that aerial bullshit!
“Grrr... Isn’t this cooler...?”
Set glared at Baucalark, who muttered while ignoring him.
“Lord Bronteus, wyvern incoming!”
“...It’s here.”
Bronteus hefted his greatsword at the massive wyvern visible even from afar.
A mindless monster, yet its power radiated.
Fierce enough he couldn’t underestimate it.
No eyes on its head? The one leading them—the slayer of Hatan’s minions.
The wyvern lord, foe to the orc king.
What twist of fate was this?
“Tighten ranks.”
Cyclopes braced, forming up.
Wyvern tactics were simple: dive-bomb with bulk and hide, or snatch prey and drop from above.
Unlike sneaky orcs or nimble lycanthropes, Cyclopes had no magic or speed.
Dodging body-slams or sky-drops? Tough.
Even at 5m tall, wyverns spanned 10m winged—even the small ones.
Snatched? No surviving the fall.
Hence the tight formation against mishaps.
But the wyverns mocked them, circling overhead instead of diving.
“......?”
As Cyclopes milled confused, immense energy built in the cyclopean wyvern’s maw.
Hot, humid.
Dark, gleaming.
As it gathered at its mouth: violet flames.
A drake-exclusive power, from a wyvern’s jaws. Bronteus uttered the infamous name unwittingly.
“...Breath?”
Impossible.
But regardless, the violet blaze at its lips hurtled earthward.
Kwaaaaaaaa!!