Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: Wendigo 5
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“Die. Servants of Yaegas!”
Walter grabbed his staff, trying to weave hand seals with it to cast a spell, but Azadin’s blade pierced his throat first.
“Gurk. Heh heh heh.”
Walter died with a satisfied look on his face. He hadn’t expected to counterattack in that instant and do anything to Azadin. The reason he was smiling was his belief that Azadin, the other servants of Yaegas, and the humans would suffer devastating losses at the Wendigo’s hands.
“…Unlike some, he was an orc brimming with pride.”
Shati offered that assessment as she watched.
“A fool. The Kurt Pantheon isn’t worth that kind of loyalty.”
Scott, an orc himself, gave a scathing review of the Kurt deities. That only provoked Shati further.
“What? How dare you!”
Scott chimed in beside the furious Shati.
“Heir to the great orc bloodline, yet wallowing at the level of snake-heads. Religion and customs are terrifying things. Even the clever ones bow to them. Otherwise, orcs could never sink to the nagas’ level.”
All the while, the Wendigo kept pouring frigid air into the chamber. It launched no more direct assaults, but it seemed intent on freezing the entire underground sewer—spewing icy breath nonstop to let the cold build up inside.
“A-are you all right, madam?”
Brock hurried to Lady Liz’s side as she lay collapsed.
“Hmm. Not at all.”
Lady Liz grimaced and held up her arm. She must have landed wrong when the impact hurled her onto the ice—her wrist dangled limply, broken.
*Oh dear. This man…*
Azadin eyed Sir Brock, who had recklessly provoked the orc to save his wife and forced a resolution, then rummaged through the orc’s corpse.
One copy of the King’s Scripture had lost its glow, while another still held some light. Even the dimmed copy shimmered faintly along its edges, marking it as no ordinary artifact.
“Here, madam. You have a copy of the King’s Scripture? Hand it over.”
“What? No thanks?”
“…….”
Ice shattered around Azadin in that moment.
“Not in the mood for jokes. You have a copy of the King’s Scripture?”
“So you’re after the King’s Scripture. Your archery gave it away too—you’re Herald Clan?”
Lady Liz drew a copy of the King’s Scripture from her bosom. It too had exhausted its power, leaving only afterglow.
“Messing around with the Herald Clan while holding something like this would be a disaster. Here.”
“Thank you.”
Azadin took the King’s Scripture from Lady Liz as well.
“Tch. Our Naga Empire worked so hard to gather them.”
“To be precise, you’re part of the Kurt Pantheon alliance. Don’t act like nagas did all the work.”
“Shut up, traitor.”
“Anyway, what do we do about that thing?”
“We’re not safe yet. It’s still getting colder!”
Sir Brock spoke up, then removed his cloak and draped it over Lady Liz. His behavior alone made him seem like the picture of devotion.
*Why is someone like him such a mess?*
Azadin watched him with pity.
“We’re holding it back for now.”
If they stayed put in the sewer junction, the cold would keep building until they froze solid. To counter that, Sir Zevec and Sir Brand had advanced into the connecting passages, picking off the Wendigos that spewed chill without closing in—reducing the flow of cold air.
“But the temperature’s dropping outside too. Every time the Wendigo’s true body flickers into our world, it unleashes massive blasts of cold here as well.”
Sir Zevec shuddered at the sense of doom closing in.
“We have to banish it soon, or a catastrophe will engulf the whole area. Or maybe…”
Sir Zevec held his tongue. But everyone knew what he meant. With the King’s Church, the nobles, and the Yaegas deities all corrupted, could they even stop a monster like that? And if they couldn’t?
“…….”
Lady Liz trembled from the cold and the agony of her dislocated wrist as she pressed against her husband, Sir Brock, lips sealed tight.
*She knows something. But she’ll dodge if I ask straight out.*
Azadin turned to Scott instead.
“Any way to stop it?”
“Wendigos from the Nether only manifest here because something linking it to the Wendigo exists somewhere in our world. The Kurt Pantheon and their gods claimed they sealed away Nether monsters, but really, they just sealed their divine relics.”
“Then the Naga Empire must have hauled that relic here to unleash the Wendigo.”
“Exactly. We need to figure out how they awakened it—and where it is now.”
Scott jabbed a finger at Lady Liz.
“This woman took part in the ritual that summoned the Wendigo. She’ll know where it is.”
“Tch.”
Lady Liz produced something from her bosom. A dagger carved from bone. No telling whose, but black malice pulsed from it fiercely.
“They say Nether relics hold such irresistible allure for mages that anyone who possesses one falls under their spell.”
“This is the Kin-Eater Dagger. A Nether relic no present-world power or spell can destroy. Like that orc said, its pull is overwhelming. Just holding it floods you with power, and sweet whispers keep murmuring inside you.”
That explained why Lady Liz had stayed silent—she didn’t want to surrender the relic.
“You’ll freeze too at this rate?”
“This cold’s perfect. Dulls the pain.”
She thrust out her dislocated wrist.
“Mediam.”
“Yes.”
Mediam stepped up, gripped her wrist, and snapped it back into place.
“Kyaaak!”
The scream echoed with the gruesome pop of bone. In the same motion, Mediam smoothly plucked the Kin-Eater Dagger from her grasp and delivered it to Azadin.
Azadin accepted it, then asked Lady Liz,
“How did you awaken the Wendigo?”
“There’s a kin-slaying altar at the deepest point of these sewers. Place someone of the caster’s own race on it, stab them dead, and devour them—the Wendigo grants its blessing.”
“Did you eat it?”
“Just drew some blood and sipped it. No killing. To goad the Wendigo. That was the plan, but the Kurt Pantheon…”
Lady Liz scowled.
“Oh my god.”
Sir Brock, Guillaume Balt, and Sir Zevec groaned at the revelation.
The rite of kin-eating. Hadn’t she just confessed to that vile atrocity?
“It wasn’t what I wanted! I only meant to siphon a bit of power from the slumbering Wendigo. But those Kurt Pantheon alliance fools…”
“So where’s the altar?”
Azadin put dealing with the Wendigo ahead of judging Lady Liz.
“Follow the water flow downward—it’ll be at the bottom. But good luck getting there. A hell beyond anything here awaits around the altar.”
“What’s that mean?”
“A bunch from the Kurt Pantheon alliance and Naga Empire died down there. Turned into Wendigos. Easier to turn every copy of the King’s Scripture to King’s Radiance right here… Ah, but that’s out now. That orc drained the charged energy.”
Walter the orc mage had grinned in death for just that reason. By burning through the white mana stored in the King’s Scripture, he was certain the humans who slew him would perish to the Wendigo.
*True, I still have plenty of charged copies…*
But Azadin couldn’t abide losing even one.
*I need to preserve the King’s Scriptures and resolve this somehow.*
To end the crisis without sacrificing the King’s Scripture copies, they’d have to plunge into the depths teeming with Wendigos—once powerhouses of the Kurt Pantheon alliance.
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Meanwhile, Sir Brock defended his wife before Guillaume Balt, who had proclaimed himself acting Count Lantaric.
“Sir Guillaume Balt. My wife was under the sway of that wicked Nether relic. It was never her true will.”
“…….”
Guillaume Balt found himself at a loss for words at Sir Brock’s defense of his wife.
No matter how charitably one viewed Lady Liz’s deeds, only her claim of ‘no intent to unleash the Wendigo’ rang true—the rest was fabrication.
No, not fabrication exactly, but crimes warranting the stake a dozen times over. And her husband stepped up to defend them?
*But this guy cheats on her?*
Nobles keeping three wives and four concubines was commonplace, but Sir Brock’s situation cut differently.
“Let’s find that altar first. But…”
Azadin frowned. The deeper they went, the more the cold pooled—temperatures plummeting.
“We’ll die charging down blind. Time to reorganize.”
“Reorganize?”
Mediam blinked in confusion.
“Yeah.”
Azadin reclaimed the axe from Sir Guillaume Balt, smashed the ice, and fished out timber lodged in the water. He started gathering sewer flotsam fit for kindling.
“Scott! Fire.”
“Used a ton of mana today.”
Scott grumbled but magicked the wood alight.
“Ugh. Soaked through—such a pain to ignite.”
“…….”
Even so, the flames brought some relief from the chill.
“Splendid.”
Sir Zevec murmured without thinking.
Scott had proven his worth today. Without his necromancy, repelling the Wendigo onslaught would’ve cost lives.
Spells for glowstones, igniting wet wood—his versatility shone. Enough to overlook his sharp tongue. But Sir Zevec’s stance as a holy knight grew awkward.
*Can’t endorse necromancy…*
Yet Scott’s skill and contributions were undeniable.
“Better now.”
Azadin had the fire going, then herded Guillaume, Brock, and the wounded Lady Liz close to it.
“You lot—cloaks and blankets. Hand them over.”
“Ah.”
No combat prowess expected from them. Azadin stripped their cold-weather gear to equip the fighters.
Ordering knights like Guillaume and Brock to shed cloaks and under-blankets now was tantamount to declaring them too weak for the depths. Prideful knights would normally bristle…
“We’ll do it!”
Awed by the skill gap they’d witnessed, they promptly stripped off cloaks and blankets and passed them to Azadin’s group.
“Mediam, stay by the fire.”
“Eh?”
Mediam’s eyes went wide. Azadin leaned in and whispered,
“…Keep an eye on Lady Liz.”
“Ah.”
Someone trustworthy had to watch the mage.
“I’ll stay too. Hate the cold.”
Shati opted for the fire.
Mediam swallowed. Lady Liz was injured and ignorant of Mediam’s power, but Shati knew her well.
Now the surveillance of those two weighed on her shoulders.