Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Kin of the Fangs 4
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The monstrous ogre, lugging around a massive obsidian axe and tearing beasts apart alive to devour them, made everyone lose their will to fight and tremble in fear.
Azadin had gouged out one eye from each of them, but even that single remaining eyeball brimmed with resentment at the horrific scene unfolding before them now.
They tried desperately to twist their way out through the gaps in the meat box trapping them, but that plan changed when they saw the goblins scurrying below, straining to gobble up the blood and flesh protruding from those cracks.
Escaping here would just mean falling to those goblins.
That was when the ogre halted.
“Human village. Big. Strong fortress. Lots of meat.”
The ogre said this while slapping his belly.
“Boss. What do we do?”
“What?”
Everyone was stunned.
Normally, bands of ogres, hobgoblins, and goblins were led by the ogre. Yet this ogre was clearly addressing one of the goblins as "boss."
One of the goblins then stood up. Not even a man-sized hobgoblin—this was a goblin about the size of a human child, its body covered in tattoos inked with dark blue pigment, clutching a wand adorned with beast bones.
“The Great King of Fangs desires the Scripture of the New King. That village has the Scripture of the New King, so… that belongs to… the Great King of Fangs… grrrraaah!”
The goblin, who had been speaking almost like a human, suddenly raked its claws across its own face. It mutilated itself until blood sprayed and chunks of flesh tore free, then its eyes gleamed wildly.
“Scripture of the New King! That’s mine! Mine! King of Fangs!? I’ll claim the Scripture of the New King and become the King of Fangs! Eat shit! The King of Fangs is far away, but I’m right here! The Scripture of the New King…”
The goblin raised its bone-adorned wand. An eerie yellow flame bloomed atop it, flickering its tail toward one direction—the village—even without a breath of wind.
“I’ll claim the Scripture of the New King! Let’s go! Gordu!”
The goblin barked this order at the ogre.
“Gordu saves meat. Doesn’t eat it all at once—stores it to eat for a long, long time. Gordu’s a smart ogre who invests for crises.”
The ogre slapped his belly again and advanced alongside the other goblins. Soon, the gate lit by torchlight loomed before their eyes.
*********
The village militia stood atop the watchtower, gazing at the approaching ogre horde.
“…Damn it.”
“There’s a ton of them.”
One ogre with three hobgoblins, and each hobgoblin trailed by over ten goblins—all clad in outfits emblazoned with clan markings.
These weren’t mere wandering monsters; they were regulars from a proper clan, likely an advance guard or scouts.
“It’s fine. Our gate is sturdy…”
That was when the hunter spoke.
-Whoosh!
A massive boulder hurtled through the air and smashed into the gate wall. The ogre had hefted it up and flung it.
The gate held, but the bolt sprang loose with a crack, and dust and wood splinters rained from cracks all over.
“Eek?!”
“Shit!”
“Fire!”
At the hunter’s command, the archers loosed arrows. But with the ogre pushing forward a meat box crudely assembled from tree trunks strapped together, the arrows merely thudded into it and dropped.
“Hup!”
The ogre grabbed another boulder. The hobgoblins advanced on the gate with shields raised, the goblins charging in their wake.
“Gah!”
Focusing their first volley on the ogre had been a mistake. The second and third salvos took down some goblins, but now the enemy was clinging to the base of the gate wall.
The hobgoblins held shields overhead like umbrellas, while goblins gnawed savagely at the gate with saw-like weapons in the gaps.
“Hup!”
The ogre hurled another boulder. This one sailed over the wall toward a militiaman firing his bow.
“Argh!”
“Whoa!”
Suddenly, a hand shot up from below the wall, seized the militiaman by his belt, and yanked him back to safety. The boulder whistled just over his head and embedded itself in a nearby building’s tower.
“Eek?!”
“W-What the—who are you?”
“Huh?”
Everyone was shocked. A man wearing a hawk mask clung to the gate wall, one hand gripping the militiaman’s belt, the other clutching the stone.
Incredible strength.
Lifting a man one-handed was feat enough, yet his other hand supported the combined weight of two.
And that bird mask on his face?
“Can you get down?”
He lowered the man to the base of the wall and climbed atop it himself.
“I’ll join the gate’s defense.”
“Who are you?”
“A passing… Emperor’s Herald.”
With that, he unslung the bow from his waist and strung it.
Normally, stringing a bow required wedging the limbs between your legs and bending it with your full body weight. But this man strung it effortlessly with one hand, as if it were a child’s toy.
“Emperor’s Herald?”
“One of the Herald Clan?!”
“That’s right. Herald Clan.”
The sudden arrival declared himself of the Herald Clan and snatched up an archer’s quiver from the ground.
*********
“Please be careful.”
A lantern-bearing woman cautiously lit the path, worrying over Azadin.
Among the refugees—elderly, children, and women—the sturdier young women held lanterns to guide the way. Two of them had been assigned to the trio Azadin, Midiam, and Ismail, whom they’d never seen before.
“We’re fine.”
Azadin was grateful for their kindness in allotting two precious lanterns to them.
“Pathetic.”
Midiam clicked her tongue.
“What is?”
“A knight, paid by the people, abandoning them like this. Hardly elegant. Utterly ugly.”
“Then you must think protecting Hubris’s people is more beautiful than casting them aside.”
“…Ah.”
The Herald Clan, the people of Aragasa, held varied views on their future here.
Among them was how to interact with the natives of this continent, the folk of Hubris. Opinions were divided.
They persecute us, so we must hate them in return.
They’re inferior to us, so our superior kind must rule them.
To the long-persecuted Aragasa folk, Hubris’s people were repulsive weaklings who dared challenge them without knowing their place.
But…
Even so, Midiam was saying it: A knight abandoning the people was craven.
The Aragasa folk had endured ages of persecution and oppression, hating Hubrisians—yet she claimed protecting them was the noble path.
“Fair point. Isn’t it strange for an Aragasa like me to feel pity for Hubris’s people?”
“Doesn’t matter. I think the same.”
Azadin said this and pulled a mask from his bosom.
“Pretending to be blind makes people too nice, though.”
*********
Pretending to be blind often drew kindness.
As one of the Aragasa folk persecuted by Hubris’s people, it’d be easy to hate them all.
But after such kindness, hating everyone grew hard.
Sure, some who pitied the blind would hurl stones upon learning he was Herald Clan—but with the King’s Church dominating minds, that was inevitable.
[Protecting the people, are you?]
The Emperor’s voice cried out as Azadin climbed the mountain path back to the gate village.
[Well done, my Herald!]
“So that’s worth one gold coin?”
[No, not that. Still, well done. My praise is the Emperor’s praise—aren’t you honored?]
“All talk, no coin…”
Grumbling, Azadin scaled the path alone and returned to the gate village first.
He flipped his pilgrim robes inside out to change his look, straightened his hunched posture, altered his expression, donned the mask, infiltrated the village, saved a man about to be sacrificed, and climbed the gate.
“Herald Clan?”
“The Gold Devil?”
“That soulless heathen… why?”
As the people wondered, Azadin toed the quiver of the archer he’d saved, kicking arrows skyward.
He snatched them midair and loosed at the ogre.
-Screeeee!
“No way…”
Arrows had already been fired, but the ogre’s chest box blocked them, and its thick fat blunted hits elsewhere.
Yet…
-Thunk!
Two arrows pierced both the ogre’s eyes simultaneously.
“Gwaaaaaah!”
The ogre shrieked and toppled backward, spilling people from the box on its chest.
“Gasp?!”
“W-What’s that?”
Like magic.
The Twinshot, the Herald Clan’s specialty—firing two arrows to strike almost simultaneously. Without it, even if the first hit an eye, the recoiling ogre would’ve guarded the second.
But Azadin unleashed the Twinshot, robbing both eyes before the ogre could react.
“Gaaah! My eyes! It hurts!”
Enraged, the ogre swung its obsidian axe wildly but couldn’t even walk straight without eyes.
It tripped on rocks, stumbled down slopes—trampling its own nearby goblins instead.
“A-Amazing!”
The tide turned in an instant. With the mightiest ogre neutralized, they could defend from the wall.
But…
As the militiamen gaped, the Herald who’d taken both ogre eyes in one go leaped down toward the goblin horde below the gate.
“No!?”
“Insane…”
Suicide.
In the pitch-black night, a godlike archer who’d hit the ogre’s eyes from afar had no reason to abandon the wall’s advantage.
Long-range archery and diving into melee were worlds apart. As if mocking their fears, a thunderous boom rang out.
-Clang!
Azadin dropped to the wall’s base.
“Huh?”
He landed atop a shield-bearing hobgoblin.
A stomp. Like crushing an ant, Azadin simply crushed the hobgoblin shield and all, standing tall and surveying the goblin swarm.
That arrogant, mighty, unflinching poise… It stole the gaze of Hubris’s people—even the militiamen who viewed the Emperor’s Herald as foe.
“Amazing.”
The admiration slipped out unbidden.