Chapter 349
Chapter 349
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 349
Chapter Title: Immortals and Mortals (18)
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Right after Partak's shout, a hush fell over the chamber. It was far too irreverent speech to hurl at the proxy of the Hunt God, guardian of the beastkin, the great Hearttaker.
Yet Partak cackled, glaring at the distant tip of the mage tower.
"Seems she's tucked tail and fled! Wise choice! Yes, Kirhas! Run! Flee from your death! What can you do alone without your master?!"
"Blackfang elder, that... are we really letting the great chieftain escape?"
One warrior, snapping out of it at Partak's laughter, whispered softly. Partak shook his head and chuckled.
"By the time Golden Tusk rallies the Dove faction, we'll have seized Vulang. Hold the fort centered on Vulang's supplies and cut off trade routes heading toward the Great Wilderness."
"They can sustain themselves. Besides, Golden Tusk isn't obligated to trade with the Empire."
"Right, they've got Kirzart. Haha, and that's exactly what I'm hoping for."
Partak grinned darkly as he eyed the beastkin warrior. He growled like a prophet, each word heavy and deliberate.
"Trade with Kirzart will be poison to them. The Empire and Kirzart are still baring their fangs at each other. Vulang is a human city. If we gather proof that the beastkin remnants who attacked here allied with Kirzart..."
"The War of Fifty Years reignited...! I see!"
Vulang and Rivuen were territories flanking the Great Wilderness. After the long war between Levainter and Kirzart ended, with war trade drying up, both territories had rapidly declined.
Rivuen had regained its light as the Emperor's homeland, but Vulang was different. Though it had maintained its prosperity after the last war, the Empire's civil strife and the scorched-earth tactics against Karadskar's northern advance had brought it to the brink of ruin.
But if war with Kirzart reignited, and under the banner of crushing beastkin rebels, Vulang led the charge—it would rebuild swiftly. Eastern riches would flow into the city.
All that wealth, all that power... it would now fall into Partak's grasp. He sought not merely the great chieftain's seat. His reach extended to higher, farther things.
Replacing the great chieftain was just a step. Partak smiled, gazing at Sephor Castle.
Then, a streak of light slammed into the ground at Partak's feet.
-Kaang!!
A gleaming longsword sliced thinly through his hood and embedded itself an inch before him. Thrown with such force, the hilt vibrated with a ting.
"Wh-what?!"
Partak jolted back a couple of steps in alarm. Far off, a silhouette appeared at the window of Sephor Castle's spire, long shut tight. Someone stood on the sill, looking down at him.
Partak swallowed hard. Kirhas Hearttaker... Even from that distance, her turquoise eyes shone clear as stars against the black sky.
Her black hair whipped like a lion's mane, and she gazed down at them imperiously.
"Retreating like a frightened rat pup, Partak Blackfang."
"You dare!!"
"You won't charge me yourself, so you've gathered all the blades to serve as your arms?"
-Tat!
Kirhas kicked off the sill and leaped. She bounded nimbly from wall to wall, controlling her speed, then landed right before the gate. Despite the height, her touchdown made less noise than the elite guards' sharp intakes of breath.
Her black hair rippled like a waterfall. Through it, eyes fierce as those of a land predator blazed. She rose slowly and addressed Partak.
"Set the rules. One by one till death, or all at once."
"You're stark raving mad!"
"If not a battle of words, send the first to die. It starts the moment he crosses that blade."
Kirhas naturally drew the sword from the belt of the elite guard standing right behind her. She placed a hand on his shoulder and murmured low.
"Seal the gates and block every avenue from the main street inside to this sub-gate. Not a single rat pup escapes this place."
"Yes, Great Chieftain!!"
The elite guard sprang up and shouted. She patted his shoulder briefly and turned. Partak stared blankly, then burst into laughter.
"This one's marching to her own grave. Fine, I'll grant your request. But remember this. Your master can't protect you anymore. He can only watch! As you join him. And your daughter..."
"Partak Blackfang."
A voice so cold it seemed the blade itself spoke cut Partak off.
"If you want your death quick and peaceful, shut your mouth."
A chill ran down his spine. Partak instinctively stepped back a few paces, staring at Kirhas. His warriors too groaned low, bowing heads or tucking tails.
Surrounded by burly, well-armed warriors, Partak still felt thrown naked into a lion's den. Every warrior there felt the same.
Partak shook his head and flexed his fingers. Seals formed swiftly, and dark cyan flames crackled over the lead warrior's body.
"Krrruk!!"
"Go! Kill that wench!"
As Kirhas said, they couldn't all rush at once. That would turn challengers into rebels. They could kill her that way, but not rule the beastkin.
Fortunately, warriors abounded here. Expendables overflowed. If one failed, send the second; if two short, the third.
The great chieftain could refuse such duels. But if so, she wouldn't have sealed the avenues. That arrogant wench had declared she'd face all these males alone.
It would suffice.
It had to. Partak muttered anxiously, watching his first warrior charge.
* * *
A warrior more than half consumed by savagery bounded on all fours, clawing roughly at Kirhas's upper body. His form and momentum sloppy, yet a ferocious strike.
-Hoooong!!!
A crude iron sword tore through the air as he lunged. Even an amateur attack, backed by power and speed, was threat enough. Human flesh yields to steel without mercy.
But a desperate blow that doesn't connect is no issue.
-Kaang!!
Sparks flew from the stone where Kirhas stood. The warrior lost sight of the great chieftain for a split second. Gruk? His foaming throat voiced confusion.
-Skak!
And that was it. The nameless warrior never grasped his death. His vision spun, then he slammed face-first into the stone. His head tumbled across the ground, eyes watching his own collapsing body.
Before it, Kirhas's leg landed lightly. She flicked blood from the blade and faced forward.
"Next."
No one dared move rashly before her.
* * *
"Incredible...!"
Abel missed her movement for a moment. In real combat, if Kirhas's sword had turned on her—what then? The old swordsman's instincts stirred.
Of course, sword strikes aren't chased by eye alone. Momentum, instinct, gut—all wager life on each blow. Yet to blur a dragon's sight even briefly was no small feat.
Fernandez nodded at her admiration.
"We didn't waste our time, then."
"With so much to protect, she'd have honed it all the more."
Fernandez said nothing to that. Abel glanced at him, watching the fight silently, and wondered.
Regret? Or remorse?
He was the one who'd driven that once-bright, unlined boy to self-flagellation. She had no urge to chide him, but still wondered his thoughts.
'I'm proud of you.'
Fernandez whispered, watching Kirhas dispatch the third challenger in one strike. Proud of you. Absurd to feel such sentiment.
He'd claimed the great hero early, raised her to his taste. Her destined glory, her trials and tribulations—he'd orchestrated it all.
To use as a dagger. At first, just that. But now, he could no longer see Kirhas as a mere discardable pawn. That radiant soul, though his crafted gem, now burned as its own blaze.
Proud of it, Fernandez simply smiled and watched the fight.
* * *
-Kyyyying!
Seven heads rolled across the ground. No one dared even breathe rashly. Kirhas poised her trembling, singing blade and glared ahead.
Partak ground his teeth and retreated. Monster. Half a year wasn't short, but not enough to dull a warrior's edge. No one had seen that wench wield a blade amid luxury, indulgence, seclusion!
Partak flexed his fingers, secretly forming seals. Three seals flowed swiftly through his hands.
-Pajik!
Focus vanished from the warriors' eyes. Bonds complete, his warriors became mindless puppets. Even if they all died, fine. If only to catch that wench.
Her face still calm, but human limits on stamina exist. So thinking, he swung his hand.
-Gruk!!
The warriors charged en masse. At the sight, elite guards drew blades in unison.
"This isn't a duel! Partak, you dare sully sacred tradition!"
"Stand down."
"Great Chieftain!"
"This isn't a duel."
One step toward the charging warriors. Kirhas spun her blade and lowered her stance. Right, not a duel. Could jackals take a lion?
This was a slaughter. She closed her eyes, then opened them. Amid the near-bestial warriors, blue lines blazed, connecting gaps.
Familiar sensation. The path to victory.
-Scang!
The hunter charged.
* * *
"She's fallen for it!"
Partak clenched his fists at the sight. He didn't truly believe the expendables would kill the great chieftain, even as he threw them in. So, next plan—and if that failed, another stratagem.
He'd served Fernandez long enough to learn his ways. Even perfect plans fail. What matters is the follow-up.
Yekaset's mana-laced blood already soaked the ground. Dying, demonizing warriors scattered fragmented mana into the air as they fragmented.
-Pajijik!
Through it, dark cyan currents flowed. Bouncing, clashing, bending from Partak's fingertips. Airborne mana dotted, glassing the space.
At center, the great chieftain rampaged like a wolf amid sheep. Kirhas whirled half-entranced by her blade. Black hair couldn't keep pace, trailing like ink.
Each torchlit gleam of her blade lopped a warrior's head. At that speed, half his puppets would be butchered in twenty minutes.
Enough. Partak's spell thickened in the mana-rich air.
'Got her!'
-Ttak!
Fingers snapped like dry twigs. Simultaneously, Kirhas froze. Dozens of spell layers bound her arms and legs.
Cesaro's Blood Chain Seal. A potent ancient spell prepared to bind warriors like Kirhas. Partak gripped his fist, feeling it lock perfectly.
"Blackfang! Sorcery in a duel!!"
"Why? Didn't your great chieftain say it? From here, not a duel—a slaughter?"
Partak sneered, approaching the chained Kirhas. He snatched a blade from a nearby warrior and aimed at her throat.
"Pretending duel to butcher folk, we'll drag down this mad great chieftain and build a 'traditional' new alliance around the council. Rest now, Great Chieftain."
Partak licked his lips, slowly raising the blade. Staring into her turquoise eyes, he said,
"Speak your piece. Beg, plead—fine by me. If my heart softens, I might spare you."
"...Benefactor?"
Kirhas's eyes weren't on him. Vacantly fixed past his shoulder. The beast who'd raged moments ago now stared endlessly beyond, eyes shaken.
Some trick? Partak loosened his downward swing, stepping back. Instinct blared alarms.
Rigid, he dared not turn. A familiar—too familiar—presence loomed behind.
Impossible. No way...
"Your beastkin seal's sloppy, Partak. Next time, tilt the core angle 10 degrees right when forming it. Timing on bind and release is off too."
-Paang!
With the voice, the chains on Kirhas's arms burst.
"See? That easy."
"No way... Khek!!"
-Charuk!
Partak dropped to his knees from sudden pull, coughing. A black chain now looped his neck. Chains of Dominion—only one in the material world wielded this spell on him.
"M...master...?!"
Partak braced the ground, trembling, and looked back. The mana-forged black chain trailed faintly into the avenue's distance. At its end, a silhouette gripped it in one hand, approaching slowly.
Impossible. He couldn't be alive... Why now, why today of all days!
"Lucky bastard. Had your coup succeeded, you'd be spent..."
With each thudding step, Partak hunched deeper. Jaw chattering, thick saliva drooled from parted lips.
"But you're still useful to me."
Fernandez placed a hand on the kneeling Partak's shoulder and spoke.