Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Seeds of Heroes
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*
“Chief! Chief, the skeletons are coming!”
“Yeah, I know. It’s about time.”
Bartlas scratched his chin as he looked at the young tribesman who had burst into the tent. He straightened his attire simply. The elders gathered in the chieftain’s meeting tent all hardened their expressions at once.
No, they curled their tails. Like frightened puppies. Bartlas was displeased by the sight. These were ambitious folk who had schemed to grab their share even amid the great war between the emperor and the sultan, yet now they were quaking at the suddenly enlarged stakes.
“How should we receive the skeletons? What do those bastards even eat?”
“···Uh···.”
“Never mind. Don’t answer.”
Bartlas clicked his tongue at the flustered youth. Every last one of them lacked spirit. The Great Wilderness had been a battlefield where ancestors forged swamps with blood and sweat since ancient times, and the Beastkin Tiger Clan Alliance were heroes who favored iron mace over law and logic.
But as eras passed, only spineless weaklings remained. Blaming his increasingly feeble muscles, Bartlas lifted the tent flap.
-Thud! Thud! Thud!
-Clang!
-I told you to move it over there!
-Get out of the way, you damn lynxes!
The tribe’s warriors were busy piling up a platform and tamping the ground. The sky was infuriatingly clear, and the sun blazed as always. Bartlas disliked everything about it.
Curling tails like cowards.
Gazing at the faint dust cloud rising beyond the wasteland horizon, some young ones were indeed tucking their tails. Pathetic.
“Chief!”
“Yeah.”
“There’s way too many of them! Aren’t we all gonna die?”
“Forgot what their envoy said? They’re open to negotiation. Prepare a feast.”
Bartlas clicked his tongue and advanced slowly. The elders trailed behind him sluggishly. Like sheep herded to slaughter. He couldn’t contain his boiling frustration.
“You damn fools! Is this how beastkin of the Great Wilderness act? Huh?”
“Ch-Chief.”
“Hiding like cowards from bony bastards! You’re embarrassing me, you idiots!”
The youths flinched and stiffened at Bartlas’s savage tone. Far off, still on the horizon, they seemed terrified the undead army might overhear their chieftain.
As Bartlas clicked his tongue at the sight, one elder tapped his shoulder. Bartlas whipped around with sharp eyes.
“What?”
“Show some dignity, Chief. Are those guys really coming for a peace treaty?”
“What peace treaty bullshit? It’s a deal.”
Bartlas clicked his tongue. The elder was right. Colorful banners filled the horizon, swaying menacingly.
One, two, three···. Bartlas counted the soaring flagpoles but soon gave up. It was blatant intimidation. A show of force to gain the upper hand in negotiations.
They knew it too. Touching Bartlas, at the forefront of the borderlands, would turn the entire Beastkin Tiger Clan Alliance hostile. That wasn’t what they wanted.
Tutan Gartep. Greatest pharaoh of the Upper Asit 2nd Dynasty. He wasn’t a fool. With Kirjat right next door for war, they wouldn’t take on the beastkin too.
So, a bloodless handshake. On excellent terms, with a threatening tone. That massive army was his opening gambit.
-Bwoooo···.
-Bwoooo···.
From afar, horn blasts echoed. Chilling tones gnawing at guts and spines. Soon, a group of chariots detached from their ranks, kicking up white dust as they approached.
“Pray, elders.”
“···What?”
“Hope a worthy one shows up. Damn it! If they send some lone servant, it’s the worst-case scenario for us!”
Bartlas gripped his sword hilt threateningly as he shouted. How much Tutan Gartep valued them, how long their tribe’s peace would hold—it all hinged on the status of those gorgeously adorned skeleton envoys approaching now.
*
The wilderness tent baked hot until noon, thick with humidity inside. In a pitch-black storeroom, windowless and sealed tight, two figures sat.
-Bwoooo···.
Horn blasts sounded from afar. The eerie timbre made the woman’s fine brows twitch faintly. The youth chuckled at the sight.
“Hold on just a bit.”
“Boss, we’re really digging our graves here, right?”
“Luckily, rumor has it they’ll raise you back up if you crawl into one.”
“Eek, I don’t wanna see that. If I rise as a corpse, cut my head off please.”
“How could I chop off my cute right hand’s neck?”
The youth laughed cheerily. He hugged a cloth-wrapped staff and crossed his arms. Amid the outer tension and dry fear, he closed his eyes and hummed a merry tune.
“Jeez, you’re enjoying this?”
“Of course. It’s almost time.”
“His Majesty does this every time. Just tosses us two into these death traps like, bam! Straight-up telling us to die.”
“His Majesty’s generous, so let’s just look forward to the rewards.”
The woman shrieked at the youth’s words.
“Honored blades of the empire! That’s all it is, right? Must be nice, throwing your lives away to build a better world.”
“Yep, it’s great. Absolutely.”
-Dududu···.
The distant hoofbeats grew nearer. The youth calculated swiftly from the sound. Rhythm and speed suggested twelve mounts. The impacts were oddly light. Skeleton horses?
Interesting.
A thick smile crept across the youth’s lips. He sorted every outer sound in sequence, grasping the exact situation without seeing it.
Less talent, more divine gift. Slowly, he opened his eyes. In the dark storeroom shadows, sapphire eyes gleamed. Curiosity, cheer, delight, and righteousness.
A rare gaze in these times when goodwill meant less than roadside weeds.
“Seiri, know what my favorite phrase is?”
*
“Don’t fear! He’s alone!!”
Feizashi Wildcast gritted his teeth and waved his hands nonstop. Magic formed in instants, granting new power and authority to his loyal minions.
Kalmburg Magic Academy was one of his lifelong masterpieces. A barely past-forty ambitious mage, how much blood and sweat had he poured into founding and presiding over it!
“Ah, good. Say it once more.”
“You damn bastard!!”
“Thanks!”
-Whoooosh!!
The foe’s spear cleaved the air. Boldly, sweeping down. Each stroke that scorched emptiness split his minion in two, sending it flying.
Magic, traps, temptations, mind games···. The bastard bulldozed straight through, ruining, dismantling, twisting all his plans!
With that damn refreshing grin. Feizashi glared murderously at the cheerfully laughing man, grinding his teeth.
“Feizashi Wildcast. Haha, why are you everywhere I go? From Dane Kingdom, yet you crossed to this distant empire?”
“I haven’t done shit this time! You damn bastard!!”
“Should say ‘haven’t done shit yet.’ It’s been nearly ten years since I first saw you?”
“This year’s the last. You shouldn’t have come alone. My ultimate magic’s complete now!!”
“Oh! Can’t wait!”
“Shut up!”
-Krummbleee!!
Empire’s strongest. Divine Spear, Emperor’s Eye···. Feizashi gazed at the boldly grinning face wielding the spear. The damn hero tagged with countless titles.
Name any powerhouse across the era, empire, or civilized world—he’d count on one hand.
Problem was, he always popped up at the worst moments.
Feizashi felt massive mana swelling to fill the hall. His hands moved frantically. Fail to kill in one shot, and he might need a grave himself.
But with this much mana, maybe this time···.
*
“Ha.”
Fernandez Cerned snapped his eyes open and sighed. A dream from long ago. The frail days forever chased by heroes somewhere. Kalmburg···. Full of memories.
Fernandez pushed aside the worn blanket and rubbed his bleary eyes. Early dawn still, the deep blue sky slowly brightening from the far east.
Gazing at the distant wilderness horizon, Fernandez dry-washed his face. An unpleasant dream he wanted to shake off.
“Awake?”
“···Sleep well?”
“No, didn’t sleep.”
Half-lifting the blanket, Abel smiled at Fernandez. With each rustle of lukewarm breeze, her golden locks swayed.
Abel soon turned to the sky. The desert night was beautiful. White, red, yellow, blue. Stars of every hue sparkled like pearls.
“This night sky’s like a jewel box—new every time. How could one sleep through this?”
“Ah, dragons like jewels···.”
“Why’s that nonsense so widespread?”
Abel chuckled and stroked her hair.
“Who in this world hates jewels? Humans love gold, prefer meat, savor strong spices, fear nocturnal beasts. Good summary of humans?”
“···No words.”
“And I just like beautiful things. Fernandez. Preferably living, burning ones.”
Abel met Fernandez’s eyes clearly, smiling deeply. She turned to the horizon behind him.
Dawn’s desert gleamed silver. Moonlight and starlight poured, blazing in the rising glow far off, radiant. Abel poked the dying campfire with kindling, coaxing flames anew.
Black smoke wafted upward.
“So, does the kid remember right? I can’t find my way in this vast land.”
“Seems she led us true, luckily.”
Fernandez smiled warmly at the huddled, snoring Kirhas. He pulled the blanket up to her ears.
Kirhas groaned, flailed briefly, then sank back into sleep. Abel eyed her swishing tail.
“···Poor thing. Not easy returning where her family died.”
“I know. She remembers the spot so precisely—it must burn deep.”
Fernandez gazed at the blazing east. Far off, like a desert corner crudely cut and patched with another image. Starkly alien.
Amid the sands, lush thickets thrived. Imagining the ancient temple beyond, Fernandez spoke slowly.
“She’ll rise from it.”
Not wind or promise—certainty. Fernandez knew what she’d become. Even now, just a whimpering beastkin maiden in the chill night breeze, she’d stand firm.
Shield of the Western Great Wilderness. Undefeated hero of the Beastkin Tiger Clan Alliance, Kirhas Hearttaker of the Kalani Clan.