Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Suspiciously Clean Traces
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"Keruk! Of course I have it. Well, it's not a guaranteed success, but it's at least a much safer path."
In response to Ian's question, Regulus nodded readily.
Swipe!
Regulus pointed toward the end of Aura, a spot hidden from the village's view.
"Once you reach the end of my territory, don't keep following that massive river. That's the domain of the Six-Tailed One, Septimus."
"Then?"
Regulus's finger shifted to the right.
"Keruk! On the right side of the border where Septimus's territory overlaps with mine, there's a small stream. Turn that way."
As Ian gathered his aura in his eyes to peer at the spot Regulus indicated, sure enough, there was a tiny tributary so faint it was nearly invisible without close scrutiny.
"You mean that one?"
"Yes, the Fourteenth Branch of Takryu. Just like the Twenty-Seventh Branch you investigated, it's a sub-tributary hugging Septimus's territory. It'll take about half a day longer because it winds around, but... better than rushing ahead and running into Septimus. He probably won't head that way himself."
According to Regulus, the Fourteenth was another area where the river waters were completely polluted, much like the Twenty-Seventh.
It was no wonder the other Four Lords, already displeased with Regulus's actions, blamed him—and the humans he allied with—for the contamination linked to Aura.
That was why Regulus had considered sacrificing Western Heaven as a scapegoat in the worst case, to buy time for the future.
"The Fourteenth, huh... Thanks for the good intel."
Without Regulus, they might have blundered straight into a brutal fight with the lizardman lord Septimus. This warranted gratitude.
"Kerukruk! No big deal. In this situation, neither of us wants pointless scraps with your martial clan, so don't worry about it."
Regulus waved it off lightly.
"Anyway, we should get moving soon too. If we linger here too long, Lady Rasna might suspect something's off."
The seventeenth tributary, where Duke, captain of the Seventeenth Branch, had staked his life to block Olga's assault.
Time had passed, erasing the scars of battle, leaving only faint traces where lizardman corpses had burned.
A tragedy's remnants in a tiny stream abandoned by all its lizardmen defenders.
...Rustle!
The undergrowth at the stream's edge stirred cautiously, devoid of any lizardmen.
"......"
Slither!
After confirming no presence multiple times, a shadow moved like a ghost, stealthily approaching the nearest trace.
Standing before a rock now marked only by scorch marks, the shadow formed hand seals with both hands and murmured softly.
"...Water, cleanse the filthy soot before me."
Shhh!
As the incantation ended, gentle water rose from the shadow's hands, washing away the ash clinging to the rock.
"Hoo, damn it. Burned a hell of a lot. That troll bastard."
Sighing at the scattered remnants, the shadow meticulously erased each one.
And finally, toward the swamp.
"...No way. A survivor?"
Crunch...!!
The shadow—Aelion—ground his teeth until his jaw ached.
"Olga, you fucking idiot...!!"
He'd stressed cleanup so many times!
He never imagined not just sloppy burning of bodies, but leaving a survivor—a massive screw-up.
"You worthless shit... Not even worth the air you breathe...!"
While his mouth spewed curses at Olga, Aelion cooled his head like entering an ice cave and calmly examined the swamp marks.
The swamp showed long trails toward the forest, mingled with deep, large footprints.
Olga must have returned per his orders, found the survivor late, and rampaged.
These prints were likely trolls scrambling in panic at Olga's fury.
But then... for some reason, they all perished while pursuing the survivor.
'Olga dying is unavoidable, that thick-skulled moron.'
What mattered was whether the survivor Olga chased was still alive.
If the survivor died fleeing and Olga unluckily followed, no big variables.
But if someone rescued the survivor, took them away, and killed Olga... worst-case scenario.
"...Damn, good thing I came to wipe traces."
If the survivor had influence and any sign of Grand Alliance intervention surfaced from their testimony, the whole plan would collapse.
Shhh!
Water guided by Aelion's spirit hands slowly erased the dried swamp trails and troll prints.
'...Hope the others are handling their spots well.'
Were they running into the ones who took the survivor...?
Shake, shake!
Aelion shook his head violently, banishing the ominous thought.
No matter how tangled things got, no lunatics would revisit a finished scene right now.
Unless the gods themselves schemed against the Grand Alliance.
Things wouldn't snag further.
Roooar!!
While Rasna freshened up, Ian's group took Regulus's tip and ended their brief rest.
Goreland, Regulus's ship carrying them, swiftly resumed north up the Amatres River.
Vast as an open sea, even this wide tributary eventually neared its end.
"Keruk, Lady Rasna! That's the end of our Fifth Branch, Aura's domain."
A crewman shouted to Rasna, drawing Ian to Goreland's deck to survey the surroundings.
As Regulus said, a broad river basin rivaling his stretched before them.
This must be the Sixth Branch, ruled by Six-Tails Septimus.
'In that case...'
Swipe!
Ian turned right to confirm again.
He'd spotted it from Regulus's village, but seeing the terrain up close was different.
Easy to miss—he scanned right meticulously.
There, not far from Goreland, a slender stream dwarfed by the main channel caught his eye.
Invisible without focus, lost amid the Six Paths—this was the Fourteenth Branch.
Ian spoke to Rasna without hesitation.
"Rasna, veer from the Sixth Branch to that one. Regulus recommended it."
Unbriefed, Rasna blinked wide-eyed.
"Huh? Straight ahead is Uncle Septimus's turf. Wider path, faster too—why squeeze into narrow Fourteenth?"
Rasna was sharp enough to survive alone to Aura.
But still a child, sheltered in Haspel, protected by all Takryu folk—she couldn't grasp the Four Dragons' and Four Lords' internal strife.
And Ian saw no need to burden her with it.
Call it a small token of thanks to Regulus for the easier, milder path.
"...Regulus mentioned back at the village that stream's polluted too. More evidence backing your claim before meeting the Sea King the better."
"...Keruk... Ah..."
Rasna's face visibly darkened at Ian's words.
Not as close as Duke's Seventeenth, but Fourteenth was among Haspel's nearest tributaries.
A familiar spot she visited often.
Dreading its horror soured her mood.
"Keruk... Alright, then."
Deeming Ian's reasoning sound, Rasna ordered the crew rightward.
"Keruk! Head to the Fourteenth on the right!!"
Roooar!
With the shout, Goreland slowly turned right.
Reaching the Fourteenth, Rasna couldn't hide her unease.
Seeing its collapsed state would reopen the bitter, heavy feelings from the Seventeenth.
"...Keruk, dock there."
At her command, lizardman crew eased the ship ashore.
"...Something's off."
Ian's voice reached Rasna as she stepped down sadly.
"Keruk, what do you mean?"
She turned, but Ian's eyes stayed fixed on the Fourteenth, unwavering.
"...The traces are too clean."
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
No signs of battle deaths.
No marks of destruction from clashes.
Just stagnant, rotten waters rippling quietly.
'Doesn't make sense.'
A clash between Takryu and the Grand Alliance should leave traces, however tiny.
But the Fourteenth held zero clues.
As if someone deliberately erased them.
Then.
...Rustle!
"!!"
A leaf crunched behind nearby trees ringing the Fourteenth.
No crew reacted.
Sound too faint, too subtle.
Thwack!
No time to explain—Ian leaped from the deck.
"Wha—hey? Captain!! Where?!"
Confused crew shouted after his sudden move.
Ian ignored, drawing his greatsword instead.
Riiiing!
Weaving through dense trees like a living serpent—uncanny speed.
Splurt!
"...Ngh!"
Impact feedback hit, followed by a stifled groan from the brush.
Proving Ian's senses right.
Shhh!
Ian reeled in his catch without delay.
...Thud!
"What the—?!"
Late-arriving crew gawked, eyes bulging.
The figure snagged on Ian's sword was utterly unexpected here.
Long ears, flawless black skin like polished obsidian.
Contrasting silver-white shimmering hair.
Beauty evoking a fairy.
Great Cataclysm birthed myriad races, but this look belonged to one in Agena.
"A dark elf...!!"
Unlike orcs or trolls joining outside forces, dark elves pledged to one alone.
Their home: only Great Cataclysm's far north.
"What were you doing here?"
Shhh!
Ian tightened the greatsword for interrogation, but the elf just bit her lip in fury.
"...Kill me."
"Can't do that."
Riiiing!
Disengaged blades constricted; edges bit her delicate flesh, blood seeping.
"Ugh...!!"
"Talk. Why no traces here, and what were you doing?"
"......"
The dark elf bit her lower lip, turning away.
Clear defiance: not a word.
"...Keruk, evidence tampering, maybe."
"What do you mean?"
Rasna voiced her thought softly; Ian asked back.
"Keruk, if they're with those troll trackers after me... they'd worry about exposure. So they're erasing all signs. Can't hit the Grand Alliance without proof—they're no pushovers."
"......!!"
Ian eyed the dark elf at Rasna's guess.
No affirmation or denial, but her eyes churned with new turmoil.
"No time to dawdle."
Swipe!
"Full speed to Haspel. They might cut and run."
"Captain, what about this dark elf?"
Ryu An asked about the still-bound captive; Ian replied instantly.
"Take her. If all evidence is gone... she's our only proof."