Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: The White-Scaled Fugitive
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‘Hah... hah. These vicious bastards...!! To think they’d chase me all the way here...’
Swimming desperately through the swamps to evade the trolls as she fled toward the Twenty-Seventh Tributary, she shook with fury at their obsessive pursuit, as if they were possessed by some demon.
The Twenty-Seventh Tributary lay near the border between the Great Flood and the Aslan Kingdom.
As such, the Takryu rarely stationed excessive forces there unless absolutely necessary.
Provoking the Lichtenauer Martial Clan could spark a massive conflict in itself.
The clan felt the same way, so their unspoken rule was to limit actions to mutual deterrence without escalating further.
Yet the trolls from the Great Veil charged after her recklessly, as if such rules meant nothing.
As she seethed, she felt the weight on her shoulders grow even heavier.
It meant the truth she knew was a critical variable in the Great Veil’s plans.
Something they had to silence her for, no matter the cost.
“Hah... hah...!”
Gasping for breath as she pressed on, she finally reached her physical limit and came to a halt.
She had barely made it to the edge of the Twenty-Seventh Tributary... but over the past month, she had advanced slowly toward Regulus’s territory under constant extreme tension.
Not content with that, for the last three days, she had fled without eating a thing due to the pursuing trolls from the Great Veil.
For someone raised delicately along the main river, enduring this far was beyond praiseworthy—it bordered on miraculous.
‘Just a bit... just a short rest...’
The Twenty-Seventh Tributary was so thoroughly polluted that finding signs of life along the water’s edge was nigh impossible.
She couldn’t forage for food herself, but neither could the trolls track her scent.
Forced to spread out widely and search blindly, that was her chance.
She needed to rest, even if just for a moment—however brief.
‘If only there was something, anything to eat...’
It would spark a glimmer of hope in this hellish escape.
Even surviving on the swamp’s tiny bugs and plants had reached its limit.
Such meager fare couldn’t sustain a lizardman’s massive body.
Without proper sustenance to keep fleeing... she’d collapse from exhaustion before the trolls even caught her.
...Gulp!
“......?”
At that moment, a faint ripple stirred the swamp’s surface.
“......!!”
Her dull, lifeless eyes sharpened with focus in an instant.
A deer!!
Fresh deer—delicious raw or roasted!
Kurruk!
Strength surging from who-knows-where, she thrashed her tail and legs furiously, shooting toward the surface where the deer floated.
...Chiririririt!
As she swam powerfully, something pierced the deer’s head with a faint sound.
But the swamp’s murk obscured her view, so she didn’t notice.
Splash!
Bursting from the surface, she snatched the deer in her jaws and dragged it straight back underwater.
Unlike riverbank lizardmen, deer were land animals.
They couldn’t move freely in the swamp.
No matter how exhausted she was, dealing with a single deer—especially in the swamp—was no challenge.
First, cut off its air to stop its struggles, then eat safely...
‘...Huh?’
She sensed something off mere moments after dragging it down.
The deer’s body reeked of blood, which made sense.
Her teeth had torn its flesh, so blood seeping out was normal.
But.
She had bitten the body, not the head.
So.
‘...What’s that wound on its head?’
Her thoughts reached that point when...
...Chiriririririt!
Something wrapped tightly around her body as she submerged.
“...Got her!!”
Ian, who had brazenly lost the deer to the lizardman, extended a long fishing line deep into the swamp upon arriving with Ryu An.
He spread it wide like a net, gradually contracting the space to restrict her movements.
His efforts paid off—the line reached the creature hiding below.
“Ryu An, grab my waist tight!”
“You got it, trust me!”
Like fishermen hauling in a massive catch, Ian gripped the line’s handle with both hands, bracing with his legs, while Ryu An held his waist.
The two warriors yanked the taut line hard, and bubbles erupted from the surface as the deer-mouthed lizardman was dragged into the air.
“Kerrrruk!”
The line’s blades dug into her skin, eliciting a pained groan.
“Caught you, you deer thief... no, the key to this incident!”
Thud, thud!
The lizardman fell from the air to the ground, rolling several times.
Whether from time spent underwater or the pain, she was caked in mud... and dropped the deer from her mouth.
The deer rolled across the ground alongside her.
“Kerrrruk...”
“...Whew, damn. That’s not edible anymore.”
Ryu An rushed to the deer, frowning and clicking his tongue.
The pristine deer Ian had carefully speared through the head was gone, replaced by a mangled chunk ruined by lizardman teeth marks and mud.
Ian approached the culprit(?)—or rather, potential key to the situation—and demanded in a heavy voice.
“Who are you? Oro Captain Regulus said no lizardmen remained in his tributary branches. Why were you here alone?”
Among lizardmen, Regulus’s name carried immense weight.
He was one of the eight ruling the Takryu’s heights, second only to the Sea King.
Ian invoked Regulus to pressure the unknown lizardman, but.
“Keruk... Regu... lus...?”
As if mocking him, the pain-dazed lizardman perked up happily at the name.
“You... guys... what’s your relation... to Uncle Regulus...?”
“...Uncle?”
Ian and Ryu An were the ones flustered by her response.
As one of the Four Dragon Kings, Regulus wasn’t some minor lizardman to be casually called “Uncle.”
Yet here was one boldly doing so.
That word pierced the veil of anger over their lost deer and mud, revealing details they’d overlooked.
Prod, prod!
“Captain, look there...”
Ryu An nudged Ian’s side, pointing subtly at the lizardman.
The faint gleam of scales peeking through wounds and mud.
Distinct from other lizardmen, Ian blurted out unconsciously.
“...White?”
Pure white scales, utterly unlike the dark, murky ones of swamp and river lizardmen.
To Ian’s knowledge, only one lizardman bore such scales.
The Sea King, Zakura.
The pinnacle of the Takryu, freely traversing fresh and salt waters.
“Wait... no way?”
White scales like Zakura’s, casually calling Regulus “Uncle”... The mismatched pieces formed an unbelievable conclusion.
Ian and Ryu An’s eyes widened in unison as Ryu An hastily grabbed the dropped deer meat and offered it carefully.
“You dropped the meat... Want some?”
It seemed they’d hooked not just a deer thief, but a monumental prize.
Ralph approached the three quietly, halberd raised.
Step, step!
His pace quickened slightly at some point.
“...Hm?”
Perhaps due to the growing footsteps.
Sylvia, lost in experiments poisoning stream water, slowly looked up.
“Ralph...?”
What filled her vision was Ralph, face twisted like a ghost, halberd in hand.
“What’s—”
Whoosh!
Sylvia’s question about his sudden action was drowned by the halberd savagely ripping through the air.
...Clang!
The halberd grazed her head by a paper’s width, deflecting a handaxe aimed at her from afar.
“Wh-what?!”
“Ralph, what’s going on?!”
Dane and Helena finally looked up at the commotion, prompting Ralph’s furious shout.
“What are you idiots doing?! Trolls appeared on the opposite bank!! Even if you’re focused on me handling watch, how do you miss a handaxe flying right at you?!”
Frustrated by their delayed reaction, Ralph grumbled incessantly.
Now grasping the situation, the three scanned their surroundings.
“Krruk! Tasting the enemy’s blood makes my dear friend even happier!”
Keeeng!
Across the tributary.
Voodoo-skilled trolls chanted bleeding curses on their handaxes en masse, hurling them straight at the Latent Dragon Squad.
Whoosh, whoosh!
Trolls hidden in the opposite reeds emerged, flinging handaxes wildly at the squad.
“Wh-what?!”
“Kyaaak! Ralph, you were supposed to be on watch—what were you doing?!”
Helena shrieked, dodging a handaxe, as Ralph protested indignantly.
“I shouted, you brat! From that end to here, I yelled till my throat bled! Where’d you leave your brains?!”
His face flushed redder than the sun from sheer injustice, he bellowed.
Of course, the flush wasn’t solely from injustice... as Ralph himself knew best.
‘Universal panacea, history-making hero, my ass... You think I’d sell out these guys for that crap? You misjudged me, Manus.’
Ralph’s sour expression stemmed from shame.
Shame that, even briefly, he’d wavered under Manus’s serpentine tongue.
He couldn’t face the squad.
Worse, realizing they all genuinely worried for his pathetic self made him feel utterly exposed.
And so, he vowed to himself in secret.
‘...Even if I rot as a mediocre warrior, so be it.’
The captain went without saying, but these guys too.
They’d squeeze him harder for slacking, never abandoning him for lagging.
They wouldn’t let him fall behind in the first place.
Squads like this were one of a kind.
Letting such great guys die, betraying the trusting captain Ian to claw upward... What kind of “great man” would that make him?
His martial realm might rise, but as a person? Third-rate—no, irredeemable trash.
Just like Manus, whom he despised most.
He couldn’t forgive himself for wavering, even briefly, during that week back at the Kalia barracks.
Grip!
“Everyone, battle stations!”
Clutching his halberd, Ralph stepped forward.
“I’ll hold the front—no matter what!”
Recalling his failure at Shurton that left Dane and Helena vulnerable, steeling his unshakeable resolve.
This time... he absolutely wouldn’t repeat that mistake.
As if sensing his ironclad determination.
Helena retorted to his resolve.
“No, if you shouted, own it! Why’re you yelling at us?!”
Her brazen shout cracked Ralph’s rock-solid determination.
‘...Ah, damn. Should I have just gone with Manus’s offer?’
He could still back out now.
The thought flickered—maybe change course?—but he smirked and shouted anew.
“Incoming!”