Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Nest Raiders
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The breath attack hurtled down too fast.
With the massive Cyclopses huddled tightly together, if Brontes dodged, the rest would be fully exposed to it.
'Too late to evade.'
Brontes stepped forward and spun his aura-clad twin swords like a whirlwind at blinding speed.
Boom!
The ominous flames, blocked by Brontes's aura, spread wide to either side, scorching the surrounding ground pitch-black.
"Urgh!"
Caught off guard by the unexpected strike, perhaps. Even wrapped in aura, the heat was too much—Brontes could feel his massive greatswords melting bit by bit in his hands.
"This bastard...?!"
Grinding his teeth as he blocked the breath, Brontes couldn't hide his shock for a moment.
The torrent of flames that seemed ready to incinerate everything had suddenly cut off.
"......"
The wyvern flapping its wings and spewing breath paused, then turned and led the flock back toward the cliff.
"Why is that thing...?"
"B-Brontes, sir! The catapults...!"
One of the Cyclopses behind Brontes stammered, pointing at the half-destroyed catapults.
The decoy catapults the Cyclopses had been building—all of them lay in ruins.
Brontes swallowed hard, realizing his sword aura had scattered the breath right onto them, incinerating the lot.
"...No way."
Did that wyvern deliberately aim its breath to burn the catapults?
No, more importantly...
"...Damn."
Brontes's expression hardened.
His gaze followed the wyvern to the sun—it hadn't fully set yet.
"Over there."
Six eyes peeked out from behind a large boulder, spotting wyverns cradling hefty eggs.
The egg-bearing females wandered lazily, yawning as they watched the hatchlings play nearby.
No hint of wariness.
'Well, they've never been raided before.'
Wyverns ruled the skies over Death Valley, domain of the draconic beasts.
Intruders in their nest? Unthinkable.
'That's what'll end you.'
About five egg-bearing females.
"Beskin and I take the two on the left and right respectively. Saladin, you grab the one in the center."
"Hey! I'm solo here—no Mimi or Nene! You want me wyvern chow?!"
Saladin grumbled like a whiner.
"You've got Reel. Just snag it mid-air so it can't fly off. I'll handle the rest."
"...Thorough bastard."
Grumbling aside, I saw Saladin limbering up. Slowly, I drew power from within.
"Go."
At my signal, the three of us dashed to our positions.
"Kieeeek?"
The females, basking in rare sunlight amid the empty nest, perked up at the tiny intruders.
Appetizing snacks had appeared below the cliff—but duty to eggs and young kept them grounded. How frustrating.
The five females rose and lumbered toward the treats.
Only three morsels—whoever reached first would feast.
"Kieeeeeek!"
The rightmost wyvern stretched its neck first, lunging ahead.
Gobble this quick, then claim the next.
Slash!
"...?"
Its right wing froze in an instant. Balance lost, the wyvern's view spun wildly.
Thud!
In its fallen sight, its own wing lay severed and iced.
"Kiee...!"
Pain surged from the stump, but no scream escaped.
A severed neck couldn't cry out.
"Sir Beskin, try not to damage the wings if possible. We need those scales for Lady Aria."
"My apologies, young master."
Beskin shook frozen blood from his blade and moved on the next. I turned frontward.
"Kyaaaak!"
Startled by Beskin's prowess, two charged at once—unlike the first.
'Take 'em down before they fly.'
Wyverns terrified with their massive frames diving from the sky.
Grounded? Weaker than drakes.
Hnnngh!
My thighs swelled near double with power.
Lightning-fast, I slid under the right wyvern's belly and unleashed Iron Leg Strike.
Splat!
Air burst as its body folded.
"Kieeeek?!"
Torso halved, it wheezed futilely.
'Can't mar the hide.'
All prime materials—no waste allowed.
Its neck exposed, I swung a steel-infused fist like a greatsword.
Slash!
Wyvern blood rained as I bent the leg still on its gut, arms extended straight, and hurled a spinning back kick at the opposite foe.
Whirrr!
Bloody and spinning like a javelin, my body pierced the other wyvern.
Thump!
I landed opposite the silently felled beast and glanced toward Saladin.
"Uh... uh..."
"Kieeeek!"
Ignoring his wriggling catch, Saladin stared at me. I gashed his wyvern deep.
"Brutal... Kicking, snapping, now body-as-spear?!"
"Looks crude, but it's solid technique."
Javelin, Longinus.
'Most past-life moves are effortless now.'
Beyond old limits, time for the next stage.
"Scary guy... But why not finish it?"
Saladin eyed his wounded-but-alive wyvern.
"Need witnesses for easy tracking. Basic stuff."
I replied, stashing eggs in the subspatial pouch from Aria.
"Young master, what about the hatchlings?"
Beskin approached, done with his targets.
"Hm."
Tempted to bag them too, but no.
"Leave 'em. Too grown for taming."
"Understood."
Beskin nodded and began butchering without question.
Corpses too big for the pouch—necessary work.
"...What the hell, you guys. Creepy."
Saladin shuddered at our casual efficiency.
"No fun."
Having torched Brontes's catapults, Gula ignored the huddled Cyclopses and turned toward the nest.
Their tight formation—clearly to block wyverns. But that blocked Gula too.
And they hadn't even glanced at their own creations.
Couldn't quite articulate it logically, but Gula's fogging mind screamed: back to the nest.
No—pure instinct.
Arriving, a fishy blood scent hit Gula's nose.
"...Grrr..."
Other wyverns sensed it too—wingbeats quickened.
The nest held one bloodied female amid empty spaces.
"Kie... eek..."
She spoke: Tiny prey-things had come, taken the other females' corpses and eggs.
"Kyaaaaaaa!!"
Gula's eyes blazed red at the tale.
Dare kill females, steal eggs?!
Reason fled. Only instinct remained: Shred the thieves.
As Gula tracked their scent, a strange sound echoed afar.
Whiiish! Boom!
Yellow smoke streaked the sky. Gula spread wings instantly.
No one told it—but instinct knew: Thieves there.
"Chwik, signal flare."
Yellow smoke sooner than expected. Hatan and orcs paused skinning wyvern hides, grabbing gear.
"Chwik, Aria. How far to that spot?"
"Let's see... Not far. Just northwest a bit!"
"Chwik, perfect."
Hatan mounted his dire wolf in haste.
The egg-thieving wretch would charge the flare site, eyes aflame.
Late, and Jerome might slay it first. Hatan spurred the wolves.
"Chwik, no way. I claim that wyvern."
No matter what, the one-eyed one was his kill.
"Hey, wasn't the flare too close to the nest?"
Saladin fretted as it burst nearer than planned.
"No choice. They returned way too fast."
Plan was evening rendezvous with bait team, then flare—for clean handoff to Hatan.
But the one-eyed wyvern, Genos's masterpiece, sniffed trouble early.
Wrong trail for enraged flock? Disaster.
"Forest's ideal for wyverns. These huge trees block sight, snag dives."
Should've been deeper, but...
"Their rage-blinded state is prime time. Had to."
"Ugh. Still, dozens diving at once? We could get nabbed."
Saladin eyed the sky uneasily.
"Relax. Beskin and I won't go down easy."
Beskin wouldn't flail to death from a fall—master warrior.
Me? Steel aura as needed.
"No, idiot! Me! It'll grab me!"
"Oh."
"'Oh'? I'll die!"
"Ah."
"What kinda garbage—"
"Shh, incoming."
Sunset sky darkened rapidly.
Winter days short, but not this sudden.
Something blotted the sun.
"Kiaaaaaak!!"
"Kyaaaaak!"
"Kieeeek!"
Rage laced their cries.
'Pissed good.'
Whole-clutch theft? Of course.
Wyverns shadowed steadily, not diving rashly.
Seemed patient hunters.
"Kyaaaaaaa!!"
A fiercer roar cut through—elite menace.
Boom!
Forest meant to hinder, but this wyvern bulldozed ancient trees, landing before us.
"Whoa."
"Kraaaaa!!"
Its roar shook leaves—the one-eyed wyvern.
"Genos called it his masterpiece for a reason."
Leagues beyond normals.
But oddly...
"No intelligence? Why obsess over a mindless one?"
Dragons needed wits. None here.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Hey! Quit staring—do something! It's coming!!"
Saladin yelled as it smashed obstacles, closing fast.
"Saladin, sorry."
I couldn't touch this wyvern.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Man! Dodge already!"
Man-sized fangs bared right in my face—
Whoooosh!
"Someone else reserved it first."
Crunch!
From afar, a battle axe arced in, embedding in the wyvern's jaw.
"Kyaaaaaaa!!"
Tough hide prevented severing, but pain wracked it anyway.
As it reeled, orc riders emerged from the trees on wolves.
"Chwiik, finally."
Hatan, axe-thrower, grinned at the wyvern like reuniting with lost kin.
"Found you. Chwiik!"
Smile wide, but crimson tears streamed from his eyes.
Killing intent boiled from Hatan.
"Chwiik. I'll kill you."
The most painful way in this world.