Chapter 173
Chapter 173
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: Bellisor, the Great River
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The great river Bellisor splits the continent in two at the violet city <Aurelinopl>.
The branch flowing southwest reaches the Yellow Sea at the navy-blue city <Aristapo>, while the branch cutting southeast merges with the South Sea at the blue city <Terbenopl>.
Thanks to this geography, <Aurelinopl> had become the central trading hub of the northern Republic as a natural canal.
In that bustling trading city, alive with riverboats climbing the waters since dawn and seafaring vessels heading to other great cities, Valensidis moved with purpose.
“Got it. I’ll discuss it with the others.”
After meeting with over a dozen captains to inquire about river conditions and fares, Valensidis returned, tilting his head in puzzlement.
“Aki.”
“Abut.”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Rain was pinching the bridge of his nose as if his head throbbed, while Aki, plastered to his leg, trembled in apparent terror.
The creature basking in the glory of both the Dragon Guardian’s protection and the True Dragon’s gaze was none other than a turtle.
“I’m not asking for much. I’m not expecting you to go toe-to-toe with guys like Shar’kas or Nariaduk right away.”
“Fight, fight, fight.”
“But listen… even if it’s a spirit, isn’t pecking at a turtle a bit much? It’s an absolute lifeform, isn’t it? Not even a sea turtle or alligator snapper—this is just a river turtle! How cute is it!”
At that, Aki gritted her lips as if steeling her resolve and crept toward the turtle.
Had she instinctively sensed a threat to her life from the True Dragon’s overwhelming vitality and presence?
The poor turtle, scared out of its wits, retreated into its shell. Seeing that, Aki panicked and scurried back behind Rain’s leg.
“Aki, s-s-s-scary-y-y.”
No sooner had Aki fled than the turtle waddled away into the river.
The young man sighed toward the heavens.
If Alakish saw this, she might scold him for what the hell this was after entrusting her daughter to him.
“A True Dragon scared of a turtle—passing slimes wouldn’t even laugh. They’d burst at the seams and die.”
Valensidis smirked with his signature cynicism, and Pipi cackled madly.
“Burst, burst, burst, seams, blood, blood, Pipipipit!”
Insulted, Aki made Rain’s face burn hotter than if he’d been the target himself—though truth be told, no insult had ever fazed him before.
“This won’t do. After this incident, I realized Aki needs self-defense skills. At least enough to protect herself from those bastards.”
“Hmm. And how? She can’t even add or subtract properly yet, let alone cast spells.”
Teaching her shamanism was out of the question too.
Shamanism was a lesser form of Dragon Tongue, essentially just Dragon Tongue expanded into human language.
Forcing it on Aki, who had just started speaking human words—and spoke Dragon Tongue better than human ones? Absurd.
“Why not teach her Dragon Tongue yourself? You’ve mastered most of the Dragon Scripture, haven’t you?”
“I learned from translations. To teach proper Dragon Tongue, we’d need a shrine maiden. Only they can read the original Dragon Scripture.”
Asking Yulianna, swamped with cleanup from this mess? That’d be heartless.
And Aki had aided Valensidis with Dragon Tongue in battle without any teaching.
So maybe she’d grow in that on her own. But they couldn’t wait for full maturity.
‘Best to get her to the Crimson Mountains fast. She can learn Dragon Tongue systematically from the other dragons.’
Stroking Aki’s head with a bitter sigh born of helplessness, she let out a pleased “aboo,” thinking she was forgiven despite the scolding.
“How about martial arts?”
“Martial arts?”
“Red Dragons outstrip the other two dragonkin in physical prowess. She’ll wield the Heart—Manaheart—hundreds of times stronger than any human, drawing power from her body’s tier.”
Without a second thought, he smacked his palm with his fist at the idea.
Martial arts.
While the Holy Human Empire reigned as the land of weapons, boasting its Seven Swords and Three Bows, the Dragonkin Republic—emphasizing raw body conditioning—saw its martial sects dominate.
“Then our destination’s set. We take the southeast river route to the blue city. We can hire a wandering ronin as her instructor there.”
Irrefutable logic.
<Terbenopl> was the City of Heaven’s Sun, the holy site of Terbel, the greatest among the Republic’s seven great cities in scale and prestige.
Many reasons, but chief among them was the martial holy ground, the Sky Arena ‘Palaseiom.’
“Right. And Palaseiom hosts the world’s top martial arts tournament.”
“Mid-April every year. Still a ways off.”
“But disciples from the six great sects or mid-tier sects will be there looking for work or students.”
Valensidis waggled his brows playfully, as if to say that was his reasoning too, and Rain nodded in satisfaction.
“Perfect. Learn martial arts there, then grab a ship and cross the continent. Let’s go.”
Soon, Valensidis found a captain at the dockside inn with his chin beard dyed bright yellow.
Loaded with pine nuts, honey, and furs, bound for <Terbenopl>.
In such lifestyles, he had years on Rain. Traveling together would make the journey far smoother.
“We’ll be there quick. Fastest around. My Takrang-ho has two sails and oars too. The rowers paddle like demons.”
“Serf laborers, right.”
“Any issue? This honest free citizen Smanrang pays fair. The rowers love working for me so much they won’t leave.”
Smanrang boasted of his ship’s speed at length, then offered them free passage.
“You know Lake Beltino on the Great River? Underwater beasts are rampant lately. Even the witches can’t clear ’em out.”
“Protect the ship there?”
“Exactly. As expected of imperial mages—refined speech and sharp minds.”
Just merchant flattery.
Long under dragon rule, the Republic’s people—from defense to arts—harbored subtle disdain for imperials despite their golden age.
Mid-conversation, something sharp and chilling brushed his nape.
‘Killing intent.’
Valensidis, leaning on the stone wall sipping wine with one arm, sensed it too.
He set his glass down softly on the table and mouthed,
‘I’ll handle it. Keep talking.’
‘No, feels aimed at me. Aki, stay with Valensidis.’
As he rose leisurely from the table… a massive crack split the inn’s outer wall, flames roaring through the gap.
Flames…?
They melted the wall like butter. Amid the collapsing inferno, debris, and dust, a shadow burst forth.
“……!”
By the time people registered it, the shadow’s owner was charging straight at Rain.
Dodging back, a fist swirling with condensed flames grazed past his eyes.
Tableside dishes and glasses shattered in the fiery vortex, throwing the inn into chaos.
“Argh!”
“Mad ronin!”
“Call the guards, guards!”
Opposite him, Smanrang and his sailors froze like statues, while Rain summoned his stone staff and assumed a seasoned stance.
‘Who is it?’
The attacker wore a ronin’s typical loose-fitting daoist robes with wide sleeves, his deep ivory hair disheveled wildly.
His gaunt face was skeletal, but his eyes gleamed with ferocious sharpness.
Valensidis, grasping the same details, felt a strange shiver in his mind.
“Rain, don’t kill him!”
“What the hell? He struck first!”
The ronin recovered his stance with startling speed from his extended punch.
Whirling his body for centrifugal force, he swung his arm to smash Rain’s face; Rain raised his staff to block…
Not just magic—superb physical prowess too.
Rain’s feet skidded back in the brutal clash of power.
“Who are you? Why attack me?”
Then, the ronin’s unfocused eyes and ragged breaths spat words that froze him.
“I’ll end you, Tureina…!”
That emotional rampage stemmed solely from incalculable rage and hatred…
‘This worn straw hat made him mistake me for Tureina?’
He knew it well.
Knew, yet struggled to accept… so despite multiple killing openings, he couldn’t strike.
Valensidis’s eyes narrowed.
‘Not controlled… then could it be?’
Valensidis swung Kashasur. A razor-sharp vacuum wind blade tore the inn’s outer wall apart.
And there it was.
Perched on the dock railing, a puppet munching crisply on an apple from some mountain village.
“Well, if it isn’t Valensidis, the insolent fool who quit before me.”
Jernix…!
In that instant, myriad emotions chilled in Rain’s mind. The moment he turned, erecting a magic barrier…
“Your opponent’s me…!”
Flames vortexed fiercely from the fist impaled on the staff, exploding.
“──!”
Releasing the staff reflexively, Rain vaulted over a table backward, landing opposite.
“Can’t use your magic if I keep you close, mage…!”
Instantly, a flaming sigil appeared above the table.
‘Sigil?’
The ronin channeled Heart power into his shoulder. Twisting waist and ankle, he thrust his fist at the sigil.
“……!”
The sigil amplified the force into explosive flames, scorching the floor, incinerating tables and drinks, engulfing Rain.
“Hah, true ronin. Bane of half-baked mages and witches.”
The puppet chewed its apple appreciatively as Valensidis spread Kashasur before him.
“What scheme now, Jernix?”
“Look at this brat—quit and already forgotten manners.”
The puppet spat an apple seed into the river, weaving four magic circles on its palm in a flash.
“No scheme. Just told him Tureina and her disciple were eating here.”
“……!”
“Hey, dragon brat. That woman’s the last survivor of Cheonhwa Sect, wiped out by Tureina. What’ll you do?”
Ronin wield Heart mana threads.
Six Heart usages—over half melee-focused—common knowledge.
Even skilled mages avoid close quarters due to matchup. Problem: Rain wasn’t ordinary.
Trained in staff arts by a hero, faced absolutes twice with it.
“I’ll end this──!”
Kicking off the charred ground, charging the explosion-shrouded Rain—the ronin’s eyes widened.
“──?!”
Pushing aside the flaming fist… wasn’t that the dropped staff?
Realizing it, Rain spun, slamming the staff’s base into the ronin’s gut precisely.
Direct hit to the stomach, yet only gastric juices and saliva—no vomit. How many days unfed?
Rain’s eyes narrowed.
‘Incredible skill. Yet so desperate his moves are obvious. What’s the rush?’
Bell Quirius.
Eyes blazing red, he read the ronin’s staggering ability framework in an instant.
As suspected…
‘Like possession spirit? But different…’
A blood-clot parasite straight out of nightmares writhed in the ronin’s heart.
Body wrecked beyond mana emission, yet it forcibly pumped mana through him.
Doomed to fight valiantly until qi deviation death…
“With this, it’ll end…!”
Forcing his crumbling body up, condensing death-throe mana into his fist.
Leave him, he dies.
Before the fist connected, before its flames scorched his face, 0100010001—Oblivion Flame turned the parasite to meaningless digits.
“Ah…?”
Puppet strings cut, the ronin froze, mana dissipating.
Nearly shattering his nose, but the body slumped powerlessly onto Rain’s shoulder.
A faint whimper and tremor, then total collapse into unconsciousness.
“Damn, what a letdown! Came hoping he’d kill Tureina, but if this drags…”
Grumbling irritably, the puppet swapped a 4th-circle water spell’s formula rune with forbidden Orvios.
“Still so pathetic in spirit, never tapped Bell Quirius’s true power, you childless fool!”
Over a dozen soap bubbles turned to corrosive acid, melting wood and stone as they surged at Rain.
Valensidis stepped between, blocking Rain and puppet.
“Open, Kashasur.”
Fan snapped open crisply; spacetime rift yawned before him, sucking in the bubbles.
Nariaduk’s space interference mimicked via Valensidis’s magic, shamanism, and black magic knowledge—humble replication.
Activates only via Kashasur catalyst; short range and duration limits.
Still, human wielding transcendent power—remarkable.
“Wow, not a technique for the likes of you, Valensidis. Sacred relic’s power is something.”
Jernix whistled knowingly as darkness gripped his throat.
From the severed left arm stump rose a hand—shamanism and black magic construct, four times normal strength.
Crushing the neck vertebrae slowly, Valensidis’s voice was icy as frost.
“4th-circle spell drains you dry… low-grade puppet. Lost most combat puppets on Aktrad continent, huh, Jernix.”
“Heh heh heh heh, no need. Could make you one anytime. You know it.”
Valensidis’s arm prickled knowing it was true.
Puppet’s eyes bulged from internal pressure, gaze shifting to Rain—who rushed over supporting the ronin.
“So that’s where I saw the sun parrot. Hmm, that staff too… intriguing. Some secret I don’t know?”
“Quit the puppet bullshit and show your ugly mug! I’ll smash it. Scared?”
“Think you can beat me one-on-one? Then come to Adrion continent, yellow city <Raftas>. This senior’ll show you real magic.”
The puppet withered abruptly, melting with foul stench.
To spare the docks, Valensidis tore space and hurled it through.
By the time he sealed the rift, chaos reigned—not ended—as lord’s serf soldiers swarmed in.
‘Jernix, you damned bastard…’
Rain bit his lip.
As Aki and her guardian Pipi approached, the youth gazed at the unconscious ronin on his shoulder.
One who’d called his old disciple’s name in hatred… How could he abandon him?
What Jernix called pathetic spirit’s fruit—this incident sparked the bond leading to the ‘Aki Punch.’