Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 021
Chapter Title: Land Cursed by the Goddess
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After wrapping up the wager duel in the plaza, Roden and Shan spent every day hanging out at the Adventurers' Guild.
It was all to leverage their skyrocketed reputations and recruit companions on better terms.
While Roden met with guild members, conducted interviews, and scouted talent, Shan did his part too.
He mingled with the adventurers he'd beaten down, soothing egos and building camaraderie.
Of course, he lacked Roden's silver tongue and knack for manipulation, but the sight of a genius swordsman stronger than most knights rubbing shoulders with them was enough to win people over.
Plus, there was the calculation that these bonds might save their lives if they crossed paths in the Demon Realm later on.
Even Shan's status as an Altoin worked in his favor here.
If he were just some ordinary western boy with that level of swordsmanship, folks might've assumed he hailed from a prestigious knightly house or noble lineage and kept their distance.
Sure, some still bristled at the idea of an Altoin in their midst, but after he'd shown his prowess, none dared say it to his face.
"Come on, just join our party already! With you on board, we could push way deeper!"
"Roden's not an option, though."
"Obviously! I can handle all the big brute work myself!"
The bear hunter Pakan slammed the table with his meaty hand, sending glasses sloshing everywhere. Ever since that fight, he'd taken a shine to Shan and kept dragging him into drinking sessions with his crew.
Shan wasn't much for booze—he just pretended to sip while devouring the snacks—but Pakan found that childlike gluttony endearing and laughed it off with booming guffaws.
"Nah, I'm sticking with Roden."
"Heh, the boss got shot down again!"
"Think about it seriously! I don't toss out offers like this lightly!"
As the rowdy chatter filled the air, Shan spotted Roden waving from across the room and stood up.
"Whoa, heading out already?"
"My friend's calling."
"Damn! Feels like getting turned down by a pretty girl!"
Shan waved goodbye to the grumblers and approached Roden, who was seated at a table with three others.
One was a guild regular they'd seen over the past few days; the other two were new faces.
"Pakan again?"
"Yeah. Keeps pushing me to join his party."
"Everyone's pulling out all the stops once they hear you're skilled... This is Shan—no need for intros since you've heard the rumors, right? These two are Mr. Vent and Mr. Jerpo. Say hi."
"Hello."
Shan bowed politely, but the two men exchanged glances and clicked their tongues softly.
"This kid's really the one...?"
"Hard to believe with your own eyes. But if that many people saw it, no point doubting."
Vent was a middle-aged man pushing past forty, while Jerpo looked about a decade younger.
From the introductions, Vent was a priest from a New Faith monastery, adventuring to fix their finances. Jerpo was a scion of a minor mage academy, funding his research through gigs like this.
Shan turned to Roden after hearing them out.
"What about a guide? You said we needed one."
"No good ones available right now. Looks like we'll have to scout in some small town near the Demon Realm."
"Truth be told, Jerpo here or I could fill in to some extent. We're both pretty seasoned adventurers."
"Hmm, then let's start as a quartet and add more later if needed..."
The reason these talented folks—a priest, a mage, and ones who could at least handle self-defense—weren't locked into some party already was simpler than it seemed.
They treated this as a side hustle, only diving in when cash was short, not grinding till retirement like full-timers.
That was exactly why Roden picked them.
Vent had the monastery as his anchor; Jerpo, the mage academy. Unlike rootless wanderers who could vanish with the loot, these guys feared repercussions too much to betray anyone.
If they did turn, it'd only be if they could kill and bury you first.
"Looking forward to working together."
"Same here!"
They'd already hashed out loot splits and leadership, so the two signed on to Shan and Roden's party without delay.
Beer mugs clashed hard, foam spilling over.
The four-man Demon Realm party, dubbed "Green Eyes" after Shan's signature feature, officially registered with the Shedil City Adventurers' Guild.
Party names often came that easy, pulled from a leader's standout trait.
Exactly two days after forming, they left Shedil and headed east.
With advice from their new pals, they'd stocked up on a few extras and said goodbyes to contacts—plenty of time for that.
Travel got way smoother with four people.
More eyes meant each could watch one direction: front, back, left, right.
Cooking lunch? Hands everywhere made dividing chores a breeze.
But the real perk? Watching magic up close.
"Kalaisblanaiyor..."
⟨ [Ignition Spell] ⟩
Mage Jerpo muttered in some incomprehensible tongue and extended a hand over the kindling. A spark bloomed, flames crackling to life.
Shan let out an awed gasp.
No more flint and steel, no puffing embers to life—the whole hassle skipped in a snap!
"Whoa..."
He'd even visited the capital's mage guild once, but flashy spells like this were rare there.
That place was for selling finished tools, demos, and commissions—not street magic.
Jerpo didn't hide his smug pride at Shan's reaction, flashing an arrogant grin.
He used polite speech with Roden and even Shan, but his haughty tone made it sound anything but respectful.
"Hm, interested in magic?"
"Yeah. I know I can't learn it, though."
"Inevitably so. Those who awaken to aura have their spirits fused solid to the flesh—impossible to budge."
Magic drew out soul power through meditation, incantations, catalysts, twisting reality.
Aura users tempered theirs into the body, the antithesis.
Solids don't reshape like liquids or gases.
Shan, who'd only known the surface-level "aura blocks magic," nodded eagerly at Jerpo's lecture, half of it sailing over his head—but fascinating nonetheless.
He reminded Shan of Selina: that same thrill in dumping knowledge on the clueless.
And like always, Shan made the perfect audience. They hit it off quick.
Vent the priest, by contrast, always wore a kindly smile but kept an odd emotional distance.
Like an invisible wall. Not a bad guy, just... detached.
The "Green Eyes" party's first real scrap hit a day and a half out of Shedil.
As lush forests and plains gave way to barren wastes, Vent—watching left—spotted incoming trouble first.
"Something's coming from over there."
First in sight: a ragged half-dozen explorers, battered and desperate.
Fleeing pursuers. Trailing them: wolf-faced bipeds howling on two legs.
Around ten strong, armed from crude clubs and stone axes to proper iron weapons.
Shan recalled lessons from Sir Darkal and Roden.
"Werewolves?"
"Nah, those are bigger and don't use weapons. These are gnolls."
"Ah."
Jerpo corrected him. Wolfish face and bipedal stance matched, but gnolls were smaller, weaker—smarter. They'd craft clubs or loot human gear.
The fugitives spotted Shan’s group and waved frantically for help.
Vent let out a low groan, eyeing Shan.
"Looks like we have to save 'em."
"I'll head out first—follow at your pace."
Shan announced it like fact, mounted his black steed, and charged.
Full sprint would tire him out on arrival; he paced it smart.
The explorers' joy soured when they saw a lone boy on horseback—no backup adults in sight. What kind of idiots were these guys?
Shan ignored the stares, unhitched his lance, and leveled it.
Even as the horse's gait bounced him, the tip stayed rock-steady—eerie.
"To the sides!"
Close enough, Shan shouted. The explorers dove left and right, skeptical.
If the kid failed, they'd lose speed and become kibble soon. But barreling into a charging rider? No choice.
Best hope: slow the gnolls a bit.
Shan plunged through the gap, thrusting his aura-charged lance into the startled pack.
Like knights he'd seen on old battlefields: not piercing, but shoving.
'Don't stab—shove.'
Lancing pierced one foe best. Even skewering multiples with a long spear maxed at two or three.
But infuse impact intent, and the shock chains back through the mass.
Aura-laced lance charge at speed? Enough to topple a platoon of heavy infantry.
BAM! Thunderous crack—the lead gnoll pulped and flew back, bowling over seven kin like a siege ram.
No warhorse needed; matched seasoned knights.
One charge crippled them. Shan wheeled, targeting survivors.
Formation shattered, he shortened his grip, stabbing vital spots through thick fur and muscle.
Last one's skull got a final thrust—withdraw, turn. Surviving explorers bowed low.
"Th-thank you, Sir Knight!"
"You saved our lives!"
The title from Leaf Village folks back home felt even better here.
They knew it'd taken knight-level skill.
His delayed comrades arrived, tending wounds.
Vent laid hands on gashes, prayed to the Goddess. Holy glow knit flesh.
"Oof... ugh..."
"How'd you end up like this?"
Gnolls had smarts for tools but middling physiques.
Stronger and nimbler than men their size, sure—but organized humans could handle 'em.
If not, Pendia's monster-haunted roads weren't for you.
At Vent's question, survivors spilled their tale.
From Baron Paless's lands in northeast Pendia. Confident fighters who'd teamed up for Demon Realm runs.
Solid results had them hyped—till a banshee ambushed.
"Banshee... the incorporeal one, right?"
"Yeah, ghost-type, folks say."
Blades useless; its shriek sparked infighting, deaths, maimings.
They barely escaped, only to draw blood-scenting gnolls.
Fresh, they'd have repelled 'em. Battered? Doomed till rescued. Gnoll weapons were from their dead.
"Sheesh..."
Roden sighed despite himself.
Reason parties always grabbed a priest or mage: counter weird threats.
Warrior stacks hit hard but crumbled here.
After pocketing a modest fee and sending them off, Shan eyed Roden.
"Wanna hunt it?"
"Huh?"
"The banshee. Heard its core fetches a good price."
"True. What do you two think?"
Priest and mage nodded.
Banshees terrorized scrubs, not elites like them.
Seeing Shan's skills firsthand? Ironclad confidence.
En route to the spot those guys mentioned, Vent murmured to Shan.
"Shan."
"Yes?"
"That charge was impressive."
"Aw, thanks."
Shan grinned sheepishly. Vent smiled softly, nodding.
"Just... next time, sync up first. Roden's here, and I could buff you."
"Oh..."
"Vitality Blessing's a game-changer. Covers aura slips, quick recovery."
"Got it."
Vent seemed satisfied, turning away.
Roden, eavesdropping nearby, looked awkward.
Truth was, Shan's solo dash was for Roden's blade phobia.
Gnolls with weapons? It'd show.
They hadn't spilled his secret yet—too lethal a weakness.
Vetted loyalists, but leaks could arm enemies.
Shan sidled to Roden, whispering.
"When you gonna tell 'em?"
"Soon... after observing more."
"I'll cover as best I can. Weapon-wielding monsters aren't common anyway."
"Sorry."
Shan grinned—no apology needed.
Three days of course correction after two small settlements.
The land shifted: cracked rust-red wastes to soot-black earth.
Like ash from a world fire—not fertile black soil.
Clouds blocked the Goddess's sun; air reeked thick and foul.
Why they called it Demon Realm: uninhabitable.
'How'd ancient Altoins live here?'
Couldn't picture a mage empire thriving.
Maybe pre-curse, it differed.
Jerpo snorted at the vista.
"Demon Realm proper starts now."
Shan and Roden tensed instinctively.
Vent chuckled at the newbies.
"Easy now. It's dangerous, sure, but we're no pushovers. Entry zones lack big terrain hazards."
Per those refugees, banshee turf meant fewer rivals.
Physical brutes shunned her vibe.
Quick lunch later, they bagged their mark—or rather, it found them.
A pale wisp streaked from gloomy skies.
'That's the banshee.'
Highborn lady in antique garb—if not translucent, weeping blood from eyes, airborne.
"Priest?"
"On it."
Vent cast Vitality Blessing on Shan: warm blood surged, vigor spread.
She recoiled from holy light, eyes squinching bloody tears, then dove fast.
Four meters up, maw gaped—ear-splitting wail.
[KYAAAH—!]
The spirit's cry warped air, battering minds.
Ears plugged? Useless curse.
But none fainted, turned on allies.
Vent shielded others and horses with Mind Guard; Shan's aura and blessing held him steady.
Why small parties? Priests had protection limits.
'Here goes.'
Shan coiled legs, sprang. Aura lofted him past four meters; sword cleaved banshee vertically.
Her watery form parted like mist before aura edge.
Landing sans aura: tucked roll dispersed impact cat-like.
Status check: spent vitality recharged fast from leap and slash.
'This rocks.'
In war, endless buffs would've amplified knights.
Goddess Faith—Old and New—banned divine aid in war.
Maybe a Third Holy War for that.
Banshee dissolved to ectoplasm under Jerpo's spell—prime alchemy stock.
No mage? Wasted prize.
"That was easy."
"Matches scare armies if conditions align. Why kings skip armies here."
Jerpo puffed as Shan deflated a bit.
Smooth first loot. They camped cliff base.
Post-dinner flop, Shan eyed Roden scribbling.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Mapping. We'll hit this area often—gotta log it. Terrain shifts, but big features stick."
Vets like Vent or Jerpo sufficed here, but no guarantees they'd stick; Roden covered bases.
Shan glanced, then piped up.
"Hey, Roden—how big's the Demon Realm? Master said 'huge'."
"No clue. Nobody does... Mage?"
"Beats me."
Jerpo declared boldly across the fire. Lecture mode engaged.
"Current theory: bigger than the old Arman Alliance combined. Linked to southern Selim Republic too."
"News to me."
"Just broke months ago. Some explorers hit south, met locals—who claim overland start."
Selim Republic ruled Selina's tales of southern continent: elephants, deserts, spices.
Everyone figured south land separate; Demon Realm bridge? Wild.
"If smaller, Asilrub would've been found ages ago."
Shan knew the name from class.
Ancient Alto capital. Old Faith called it hellgate to monster hordes.
"Records say Alto started city-state, cradle of era's knowledge and culture."
Jerpo's voice lost its brag—wistful, like homesick for unvisited soil.
Ironic, Shan the Altoin felt no such tie.