Chapter 186
Chapter 186
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 186
Chapter Title: Uninhabited Island
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It was an uninhabited island blanketed in cedars.
Rain lay sprawled on the white sand beach, staring vacantly at the mercilessly clear blue sky overhead.
But then, in the corner of his vision, something bright red suddenly popped up.
"Aki hungwy."
Seeing her cheerful smile as she sat on his chest, he couldn't even scold her. All that escaped him was a silly sigh.
"I'm tellin' you, I can't live with you around. Can't live, I say. For real."
When he grabbed her cheeks and stretched them out wide, Aki giggled away, not even knowing what she'd done wrong.
"Sigh."
Last night, the fourth strike of the Cremation Blood Thunder had been fully charged at maximum output. A blast powerful enough to incinerate every mortal being on this land and then some.
He was certain it would have turned the Giant Slayer and Mage Slayer into charred husks in one shot.
Of course, that was if this voice hadn't come from the other side of the deck at that moment.
- Abrat!
Aki... what are you doing here?
Before Valensidis could even grab her, had she used some lightness skill or footwork? Or transformed into her dragon form and flown over...?
He was confident his flames wouldn't harm him, but what about Aki? He'd never tested it.
- Tch!
That realization had instantly dialed back the Cremation Blood Thunder's power to less than half.
He released his grip on the Mage Slayer and dashed toward Aki, pulling her into a tight embrace.
At the same moment, the Giant Slayer seemed to shield the Mage Slayer for a split second...
- Fifth strike, sixth strike, seventh strike!
Originally, he planned to use the remaining three thunderbolts to whip up a massive tidal wave and head toward land. But could Aki survive drowning in that wave?
With that judgment in mind, he had leaped into the sea with Aki in his arms while unleashing all three blasts at the enemy.
The ship had disintegrated into ashes on the ocean surface, and it was certainly powerful enough to obliterate those two. But somehow, the result felt off.
"What're we gonna do about this mess, huh...?"
He'd clung to a plank and drifted for half a day before washing up on this uninhabited island, but now he had no clue what to do next.
"Hey, try calling some whales with dragon tongue. We'll ride on a whale's back and go."
When he abruptly sat up, Aki tilted her head.
"How ya call whales?"
"There's dragon tongue for it. Dragonkin are absolute lifeforms—they can command all living beings."
"?"
"???"
"Don't know what yer talkin' 'bout! Aki hungwy. Gimme food!"
Yeah, whatever... as long as she's healthy. Just being unhurt from this mess is something to be grateful for.
Who cares if she's a little lacking.
He ignored the tears overflowing from his eyes.
"Wanna have some grilled fish, Aki? I'll stuff you till you burst."
From deep in the water, he summoned a single intense pillar of flame, and countless half-cooked fish washed up on the beach.
"Yay yay yay! Gimme yay! Yay yay!"
While the fish sizzled deliciously over the bonfire, Aki danced around the flames with wild abandon, her pee-pee dance full of spirit!
* * *
"What in the world is the problem here?"
Sharon, vice-director of the "Golden Children," asked because she simply couldn't comprehend it.
It was because of the ferrymen who had rowed them all the way here.
At first, when they said they wanted to go to Ringkland Island, the men showed near-hysterical fear and kept repeating the same thing.
"You can't go to that island right now. No permission, no entry."
"Whose permission?"
"Th-that... the m-mayor, sir."
"We got the mayor's permission on the way here."
"If you're here to pray to Demon Slayer, go to the central cathedral... It's been moved there ages ago."
Originally, up until ten years ago, Ringkland had been a booming tourist spot.
Because Demon Slayer, the hero of the Dragonkin War era, had lived there and was buried on that land.
But at some point, the tourist traffic had dried up completely.
The <Karsiko> city council had relocated Kasel Linkan's bones to the central cathedral in the city.
And Ringkland Island itself had been closed off due to detected volcanic anomalies.
The <Karsiko> mayor had announced it first, and reports from the Magic Alliance's special task force, the Witch Association, and even the previous "Golden Children" investigation had confirmed it.
But recently, an anonymous tip had come in, and the Papal Office's College of Cardinals had dispatched the "Golden Children" again to investigate.
"We're the Papal Office 'Golden Children.' We have business on Ringkland. We need to go there."
The ferrymen seemed like they might muster the courage, but the moment the boats reached Ringkland's dock, they clutched their heads and trembled violently.
And no matter how much Sharon pressed for the reason, they wouldn't answer.
Sharon sighed and turned to Director Ocelot.
"Director, why are these people acting like this?"
"Something's up, isn't there? Time to find out."
The four squads of "Golden Children" disembarked from the four rowboats onto the pier.
Their golden armor emblazoned with the Light Dragon Haraderiman's crest gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. Each carried a large rectangular shield and a mace.
The standard uniform of the famous Holy Warriors, the "Golden Children."
But no sooner had they stepped onto the pier than a chilling fog enveloped the island.
"If you old folks wanna live long enough to end up in your precious gods' embrace, you'd best turn tail and head back where you came from."
And from somewhere in that fog, a voice echoed.
A sweet voice.
A chillingly sweet voice, and the smoke it carried was even sweeter.
"Poison!"
Sharon realized in an instant that it was poisonous fumes... and immediately deployed a divine barrier over her body. The other Holy Warriors did the same.
It was then that someone emerged from the fog.
"Brothers and sisters, they say the ghost of an old Slayer haunts this island. It drags people off into the mist."
She wore a nun's habit, clutching a holy book demurely to her chest. A slender beauty with a gentle face, but something was off...
There were three reasons.
The Republic was land where witches preached the dragons' teachings—no place for an Imperial nun, no matter how you sliced it.
"Dangerous place, so please turn back."
And that worn habit... it was centuries old.
You couldn't find one like it anywhere now unless it was custom-made.
But the strangest thing was the massive coffin strapped to her back. What was that? Why carry a coffin around?
"Ghost?"
Sharon menacingly raised her mace and shouted.
"Cut the nonsense. There are no such things as ghosts in this world. If you'd even read the holy book once, you'd know everyone goes to heaven or hell after death. Who are you?"
The nun's lips curled into a creepy smile as she pressed her hands together in prayer.
"That's weird. Then what am I?"
"...?"
"I'm the ghost you're talking to right now! Dur-Morris, Priest Slayer. Death to all priests."
Priest Slayer.
That blasphemous name...
The nun burst into mad laughter as she hoisted the coffin. A large groove in its side revealed a long handle being pulled out.
"Ahahahaha! Alright then, time to send you all to the gods' embrace!"
It transformed in an instant into a hammer... one of enormous weight and size.
"She's mad!"
"Fight back!"
The Holy Warriors rushed to engage, but their bodies grew heavy, their movements slowing for a moment.
"...?!"
An invisible force had gripped their wrists and ankles.
"This... telekinesis?"
One Holy Warrior muttered it, but it was hard to believe.
Telekinesis this strong?
The sweet voice echoed from the fog again.
"Dur-Morris, Witch Slayer. Death to all witches. I told you to leave if you wanna live long."
At that moment, Sharon was struck by the Priest Slayer's coffin-hammer and sent tumbling across the ground.
Her divinely reinforced shield shattered, her breastplate crumpled grotesquely.
"V-Vice Director!"
"Find it! The one using telekinesis!"
The Holy Warriors scrambled to form ranks, but the telekinesis made them frustratingly slow.
A quagmire.
Just like sinking into an invisible swamp...
"Ahahahahaha! So fun, this blood! This blood is the gods' greatest gift!"
As Holy Warriors up front were smashed one by one into the sand by the Priest Slayer's hammer, those in the rear began collapsing too.
A lithe, lightly armored swordswoman was binding their bodies with iron chains and forcing them to their knees.
The swordswoman didn't give the Slayer salute. If she had, she would have declared herself "Goblin Slayer."
The massacre took less than five minutes.
"Hey, if you wreck 'em this bad, what then?"
The fog cleared in an instant, revealing a black witch.
Witch Slayer, Spiela.
Spiela chanted healing spells over the barely alive Holy Warriors.
"Just teaching them the gods' love. Love is pain! True love is realized in suffering."
The Priest Slayer, Lucia, drenched in blood over her nun's robes, recited healing sacraments over the wounded and replied.
"You're still out of your mind as ever."
And... no way.
"Golden Children" Director Ocelot began performing healing miracles on his subordinates too.
He acted like he knew the Slayers, and they weren't hostile to each other.
"Ocelot, you bastard. What's going on? Why show up without any heads-up?"
"The Cardinal read the letter himself and issued the order. Immediate execution. No choice."
Goblin Slayer Miria watched the scene with eyes filled with despair.
The "Golden Children" hadn't lost a single member. They'd all survive and return.
And they'd report that there was nothing wrong with that land. Just like always, and forevermore.
"Oho, still as clean and sharp as ever."
All thanks to this man.
A man wielding a spine spear of grotesque proportions in one hand with effortless grace.
No telling when he'd appeared, but he was gazing down at the Holy Warriors Miria had bound.
"Oho, oho, oho."
And perched on his shoulder, the sun parrot mimicking its master's words: Beast Slayer.
"Lucia, you told her to take after Miria. All that gold—smashing it up like this is such a waste. Poor Ocelot's gotta write reports now."
He wore dragonscale armor forged from dragon hide.
Even in such heavy plate, how did he appear without a sound?
Even Lucia and Spiela only noticed his arrival upon hearing his voice, greeting him warmly.
"Ahh, big bro!"
"What, when'd you get here?"
The man's name was Dragon Slayer, Arthur Brius.
The world called him the greatest mercenary in history. A living legend who had once reached the adamantite rank of supreme.
Vice Director Sharon, sprawled face-down in the sand, spat blood as she glared at Ocelot.
"D-Director... what the hell..."
"Don't glare at Ocelot like that. He's just following orders."
"Ocelot, h-how... You swore to serve the gods... the gods and dragonkin...!"
Arthur knelt on one knee before Sharon and gently lifted her chin.
"No, no. It's about serving power. That guy, you too. And Ocelot realized my power is greater."
"...?"
"Why are gods called gods? Why are dragonkin called absolute lifeforms? Because they're noble? Cool? Nah. Purely because they're strong. We serve the strong, follow the strong. That's the law of nature."
"How dare you blaspheme the gods with that irreverent mouth—"
Sharon couldn't finish.
Arthur had removed his helmet, revealing his face.
Beneath translucent golden hair like topaz, features of unearthly beauty.
But it wasn't the beauty that silenced her—it was his eyes.
Those eyes...
Like the great dragons'... no, exactly like...
Possessing the same overwhelming intimidation and allure...
"You'll follow that law too, right?"
"F-Fol-Fol-Follow."
A golden light flashed briefly in Sharon's irises.
The life slowly drained from her eyes—dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon—until she sprang up with a blissful expression, raising her arms triumphantly.
"Yes! Of course! Long live Arthur Brius! Long live the Slayers!"
The other Holy Warriors, too, fell to the eerie power of those dragon eyes—dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon dragon—and mimicked Sharon's behavior.
"Long live the Slayers! Long live Arthur Brius! Long live the Slayers!"
Their memories of this place altered, they'd return to the Papal Office and report no issues.
No help was coming from anywhere.
As Miria closed her eyes with a sigh, Ocelot led his Holy Warriors back to the rowboats.
"I'll wrap this up clean. Though with your personal brainwashing, no issues anyway."
"Yeah~ Take care."
"Farewell, brother Ocelot! Let's dine together next time!"
The ferrymen rowed away with the same despairing expressions as Miria, vanishing into the distance.
Watching them go, Arthur suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder.
"So, when're you joining us? Assassin Slayer? You feel more rogue than warrior, so Thief Slayer?"
"Get lost."
Just looking at his face, hearing his voice made her want to vomit.
Her father's enemy.
Her sister's enemy.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably. If only she had a bit more power...
Witch Slayer Spiela spoke up.
"Why keep pushing that insolent bitch for Arc Slayer promotion?"
"She's cute and skilled. Hard to find a woman like that anywhere. Especially among sword wielders."
"Skilled my ass. And even if, she stinks of goblin filth."
"My eyes ever wrong? Smell washes off. Hey, Spiela's drooling—want me to wash ya?"
"I said get lost."
"What a bitch."
The reason Miria was waiting on these vomit-inducing bastards was her failed betrayal plot last time.
The Slayers seemed intent on using her inside the archipelago now rather than kicking her out. As their front.
Miria glared at Arthur.
He resembled that guy in many ways. Wielding dragon power, carrying a sun parrot...
But aside from that, he was the polar opposite. From personality to his entire worldview.
Spiela stroked Beast Slayer affectionately and said.
"But why'd you come early? Said you were heading to the Wastes to loosen up."
"Zernix showed up, ordered me to kill someone. Sounded like an order, but he was practically begging."
"Directly to you, big bro? That insolent warlock's lost it."
"Nah. Means he's that strong, I guess. Sounds fun. Heh, might be my twelfth dragon hunt."
"Dragon hunt? Whew~ Already pumped. But Zernix feels like he's just using us. Total slime."
Arthur slammed his spine spear into the sand.
Unbelievable, but the impact made Miria feel her body lift briefly into the air.
Impossible to gauge its weight. How did he wield it one-handed?
"What do I always say, Spiela? Trust is key for mercenaries. Finish the job clean, no matter what. Even if the next day you get hired to cut the client's throat."
Arthur tapped his dragonscale breastplate and said.
"Zernix spared us, helped plenty over ten years. Got our gear back too. Time to pay up."
"You're saying we're just being used. Can't even say that?"
"I'm no idiot; I know. With my power returning, he probably plans to use us as shields and ditch before we slip control."
"Makes sense—if it was someone we really had to kill, he'd come himself. Not dump it on us."
"Ahh, what a scummy guy, disposable pawns and all. Yes, the gods won't forgive him."
"Hmph, do whatever. Our plan's at the final stage now. This archipelago becomes our kingdom. He said even true dragons are stretched thin just guarding their turf."
"Hahat, then any cities or kingdoms that won't accept us come charging? All legal to kill, right?"
As Spiela giggled excitedly, Arthur—holding Lucia in one arm—nodded with anticipation.
"Of course. Not like five hundred years ago. Both continents become our playground."
Then a rowboat appeared, and a Master-rank Slayer disembarked at the pier.
"You've arrived, Grand Commander."
"Onya, who skipped the Slayer salute?"
"Dur-Morris, Gladiator Slayer. Death to all gladiators. You need to head to <Karsiko> urgently."
"Why the grave tone? Spit it out."
"Another escapee. Mage Slayer took her direct pirate crew out, but it's this bitch's friend."
Gladiator Slayer glanced at Miria.
Escapee?
My friend? Cora?
Whoever it was, she hoped they were safe. But with family held hostage on the island, why run? She couldn't understand.
Arthur slung his spine spear over his shoulder with a sigh.
"Trust level's in the toilet. Even friends bolting—what can ya do."
"Do, do, escapee, punish, punish."
"But mercenary world's skill-based; you'd get respect quick. Rest up. Gotta make this punishment stick."
As Arthur turned to go, Spiela passed Miria with a nasty smirk.
"See ya. Got time now—wash off some of that goblin stink."
As those pondering how to kill her friend vanished over the horizon, Miria could only tremble her fists powerlessly.
"Damn it..."
All she could do was tremble her fists.
Ten years ago, and now.
A single tear trickled from her tightly shut eyes into her mouth, leaving a salty taste on her tongue.
"Damn it all..."
* * *
Some people watched intently from afar as the Golden Children returned to the southwestern pier of <Karsiko>.
Merchants who traded spices loaded from across the sea for <Karsiko>'s specialty fruits.
But they weren't ordinary merchants—the magical auras hidden in their clothes were anything but ordinary.
"Just like the intel. How long were they even there? Not enough time to check a single island."
When the woman with flowing hair reported, the old man fanning himself leisurely smiled faintly.
"Something's definitely going down in there. Knew it smelled fishy."
Without his disguised beard and bizarre bone-twisting transformation magic, any Imperial mage would recognize him.
His name was Doran Slade.
One of the new generation greats leading the Empire's Magic Alliance special task force.
"Shall we see what dirty little secrets they're hiding?"