Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Salamander Subjugated
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The strength of Stone Scales is proportional to the time and mana invested.
While Paruzan went berserk fending off the salamander, Damian focused all his concentration on black magic—Stone Scales.
‘What’s that?'
Damian had already hunted an adult salamander. Right before his regression, alongside Paruzan.
—Salamanders are most dangerous when the flames on their bodies vanish. That’s when they spew all their fire at once.
Most young salamanders fall prey to monster hunters. Paruzan’s tip only applied to adults, so few knew it.
Paruzan at this time apparently didn’t. And unluckily, this salamander was a near-adult juvenile.
But Damian’s Stone Scales pierced it faster than it could unleash its fiery breath.
The strongest Stone Scales Damian could currently muster. A juvenile’s flesh was like paper to it.
Spurt! A jagged rock erupted from the salamander’s underbelly, shredding its guts and shooting straight up to its jaw.
The flames gathered in its throat burned wildly without direction, and with its head skewered, the salamander flipped its eyes back and died instantly.
As Damian climbed atop the salamander’s corpse, Paruzan—who was still bundled tightly in her fur cloak—stared at him with a mix of surprise and irritation.
Even so, she didn’t charge at him like she had with the sandworm. No matter how feral she was, she clearly knew he’d saved her life.
Damian didn’t rub it in. Acting like it was the natural thing to do would make her more receptive going forward.
‘She’s still young, huh.’
Her skills aside, her actions were too impulsive.
In her prime, even without knowing the salamander’s traits, she would’ve pulled back and calmly assessed the situation at the first sign of odd behavior.
Damian could now see why Dudek never sent her out alone.
This probably wasn’t a one-off. Yet her survival attested to her skill.
“…Male. You strong.”
Paruzan said curtly, then stood.
This hunt was a test to evaluate Damian from the start. Since he’d saved her life, there was no need to judge pass or fail.
“I’ll head up and signal Dudek.”
He’d left a letter just in case, but by now, Paruzan’s tribe and Skelt’s caravan were probably in an uproar. Their two key fighters had vanished.
Of course, Dudek couldn’t lay a hand on Paruzan like last time. This was a near-adult salamander. Selling its parts would keep the tribe fed for half a year at least.
“No need to help with dismantling. Male, you rest. And….”
She couldn’t bring herself to say thanks for saving her life. More precisely, she couldn’t stomach her own frustration.
No words were needed. Her expression showed the change in her. Though unspoken, she was truly grateful to Damian.
‘She’ll need some training, one way or another.’
Paruzan nimbly climbed back up the ravine.
Damian stepped down from the corpse too. His work here wasn’t done.
He headed deeper into the ravine.
Before his regression, there’d been no salamander here on his visit. It hadn’t been hunted—likely grown fully and left for a new lair.
Few knew it, but this ravine wasn’t natural. It was man-made.
Long ago, in the Empire’s nascent days, a knight and black mage had clashed here in a duel to the death.
‘Here it is.’
One corner of the ravine had stone of a different texture. Damian pierced it with Stone Scales, revealing a narrow tunnel inside.
At its end lay a corpse in a purple robe. The desert’s dry climate had mummified it perfectly.
A fellow black mage like Damian. No camaraderie stirred. He rummaged through the robe’s inner pocket.
‘Found it.’
Decarabia’s eye—the offering he sought. It looked like a glossy glass orb, but strange energies swirled inexplicably within.
With his memories of black magic and demons erased, showing it to anyone else would just seem like an ominous magic tool.
Whoosh. Damian conjured Hellfire on the corpse. No good could come from anyone else finding it.
“…”
Staring at the burning body, Damian fell into thought.
He didn’t know its name, but it was a skilled black mage contracted to Hell’s lord, Decarabia.
Yet even he couldn’t overcome the Empire.
Villain or saint, to the Empire, anyone drawing power from demons was the epitome of evil.
He, wielding similar power, would claim the throne. The thought alone made him chuckle. It was the ultimate revenge.
“Huh…”
Returning to the salamander’s corpse, Damian found Dudek and Skelt with their mouths agape, along with the nomads who’d followed.
“Did you two hunt this together?”
Paruzan silently stared at Damian.
She’d bought time, letting Damian skewer the salamander’s head in one strike. But she couldn’t claim it as a joint hunt.
Damian just shrugged in response. Dudek and Skelt’s jaws dropped further.
He’d planned to chew them out for vanishing with just a letter, but the results changed his mind.
“Eric, if I may ask something delicate… are you from the Mage Tower by chance?”
Eric Hilton was a registered adventurer, a wandering mage with no affiliation.
But witnessing his skill firsthand, it didn’t add up.
The Mage Tower naturally came to mind. Not just a tower—it was the Empire’s bustling hub of cutting-edge magic, alongside the capital.
Tower mages sometimes hid their identities to adventure and test spells, Skelt figured Damian might be one.
“No.”
It wasn’t true, so he answered honestly.
Skelt shrugged it off. Either way, he’d hired a skilled mage on the cheap.
They left dismantling to the others and headed to the oasis with Dudek and Skelt.
Camels made the return trip unnecessary for a sand sled via Stone Scales.
“This is…”
Dudek sighed. Not because of the hunt, but because Damian and Paruzan rode double on one camel.
Paruzan was wary. It had taken years to warm even to Dudek, like a foster father.
“Anything happen out there?”
At Dudek’s question, Paruzan poked Damian’s side lightly.
She was asking him not to mention her mistake. Half not wanting to worry Dudek more, half embarrassment.
Whether vigilance or payback, since the salamander, Paruzan stuck to Damian’s side.
The feral girl suddenly acting tame drew odd looks from those around.
* * *
After the sandstorm, Dudek’s tribe and Skelt’s caravan headed to Kerzhit together.
No major issues en route. Except Paruzan stubbornly claimed the seat beside Damian.
Later, when asked why.
“Must remember scent. Makes fighting together better.”
It related to her aura, Pursuit.
He hadn’t heard of it pre-regression. Maybe her Pursuit was underdeveloped then.
Luckily, she didn’t crawl into his sleeping bag, so Damian let it slide.
Days later, they reached Kerzhit. The vibe resembled Byzantine, but buildings were shorter overall.
“Ugh…”
They tethered camels outside and entered the city. Paruzan’s shoulders twitched.
Cages lined the streets, filled with young monsters.
Wealthy eccentrics often fancied raising them. These captives were for such buyers.
Even juveniles were monsters—one kick could kill several men. So legs bound, muzzles gagged.
“Here. Bad feeling.”
“Not again. Don’t even think about rampaging in the city like last time. Remember how much I had to clean up?”
Dudek brushed off Paruzan’s reaction.
She was so hyper, no need to overreact to every quirk.
Other tribesmen felt the same.
Festival time meant selling monster parts—no spare attention for Paruzan.
“Calm down.”
Damian gently placed a hand on Paruzan’s still-trembling shoulder. She eased a bit and turned her head slightly.
“Male, Eric Hilton. Bad feeling here. Something, something there.”
“Trust me. So calm down.”
Paruzan’s nostrils twitched. Her aura, Pursuit, detected lies. She knew Damian meant it.
Her shaking stopped, and the group moved on.
Then Damian’s gaze shifted to an alley. Someone scouting there hastily hid.
* * *
Kerzhit’s abandoned building. In its basement, a group in thick robes knelt, murmuring unintelligibly.
The only light: a central candle. Long shadows cast an eerie pall.
“Brothers and sisters.”
A woman rose, arms outstretched. The kneeling followed suit.
“Today, we offer the tribute He desires. The blood spilled here will grant us greater power.”
They were Telocan’s Seeds, demon worshippers. They planned a massive incident in Kerzhit at dawn.
Preparations complete. They’d tampered with the monster cages—a little drug would set them loose.
The rampage would bring bloodshed to Kerzhit. Their lord, Hell’s absolute sovereign Telocan, would bestow greater power in delight.
“Now, let us pray once more. To our master, Lord Telocan… Ah, no!!”
A scream cut the priestess short. The bowed peeked up cautiously.
A thick stone spike impaled a follower, blood pouring from his gut as he slumped.
“Air this place out, you lot.”
A voice emerged from the dark. Realizing the threat, worshippers leaped up battle-ready.
Some drew curved swords, auras flaring; others clasped hands for instant spells.
Demon worship was punished as harshly as rebellion in the Empire.
Their tracks hidden till now, but ready to fight the Empire anytime.
Yet only one foe appeared. Knightly build, but that strike suggested mage.
“Attack!”
At the priestess’s cry, dozens charged the intruder.
Aura energies filled the cramped space; rearguards shielded vanguards with barriers.
Well-trained, systematic. Pity they wasted it on nonexistent demons.
Damian sneered openly, conjuring another Stone Scales spike.
Kyakyakya!! It clashed with mana barriers, blue sparks flying. Soon barriers shattered, gutting the worshippers behind.
Yet facing comrades’ corpses, they pressed on undeterred.
Rear ones, ecstatic, ignored casualties and unleashed fire and lightning.
Demon worshippers were mad by nature. Why beg demons for power otherwise?
Even among them, rational and irrational sects existed—Telocan’s Seeds were the latter.
In the original timeline, their Kerzhit scheme wiped out Dudek’s tribe. Paruzan, losing her hard-found home, survived alone until meeting Damian.
She never spoke of it. But never forgot.
Damian still recalled her stifled tears during their brief Kerzhit stay.
No need for a repeat.