Chapter 67
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Refreshingly, Clearly, Confidently
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I've never once thought of myself as a pitiful person.
Even when wracked with pain, I never sought sympathy or pity, let alone support or understanding.
Even after being dropped into this unfamiliar world, I don't see myself as some poor bastard.
I just hate the idea of anyone looking at me with those pitying eyes.
'But Silver Star is pitiful. The most pitiful existence I know.'
Silver Star is just a consciousness without a body.
I can't give it any experiences beyond what I go through myself.
Peeking at the world is its only joy, so I can't take that away from it.
'Isn't that the most meaningful thing I can do in this world?'
Living without a clear purpose feels empty.
What's the fun in just running away to survive?
Such thoughts suddenly crossed my mind.
I've given meaning to my second life by making promises.
Promises with this guy, that girl, everyone.
I have no choice but to stay alive to keep them.
Ah, I think I had thoughts like this before. Or did I? My head's all foggy, and I've been rushing around so much, it's hard to tell.
Anyway. I'll hold out here until Silver Star wakes up.
Piercing stars, slicing constellations, stripping the next ones bare.
By then, my divine power should build up nicely.
Of course, it's anyone's guess when I'll reach Silver realm, hit the wall, and challenge the Gold trial.
'My divine power's probably around mid-Bronze now. No idea how long it'll take to hit Silver. But the trial isn't urgent, so no worries.'
Once I decided to stick around for a while, my mind eased.
I felt a strange gaze on me.
Ibu was looking up at me with eyes that seemed to know something but not quite.
Clear eyes that pierced right through a person.
So pure and pristine they were frightening.
"Why are you staring like that?"
"Damn thing. A guy who keeps promises, muscles all split nice and fine—I like it a ton."
Good to know I please her, but it's vague which part exactly she likes.
I wish she'd stop stroking my forearm, too.
I pulled my cloak over my arm to cover it and continued my thoughts.
What should I tackle first while staying at the fortress?
'Once the knocked-out guys wake up, I need to brief them.'
I'd sketched out a rough blueprint in my mind.
'Making this a place where people can live comes first.'
I need to pave a road from Brad and Fiore to the fortress.
Put a wide, sturdy stone bridge over the gorge between the two countries, then lure in residents and merchants.
If that works, this fortress can function as a city.
'Yeah. Perfect plan for now.'
As I descended the stairs, Erakins—who'd heard my plan first—finally spoke up with difficulty.
"Boss, that'd cost a fortune, wouldn't it?"
"Damn thing. I got no money. If it needs a shit-ton, Ibu'll earn it. Then I'll raid Drauven, steal their cash. Snag pretty clothes and tasty meat too."
She's spouting total nonsense with that straight face; no clue how to respond.
"Ibu. I'm not some thug running around causing chaos."
"Damn thing. To do anything right, you gotta cause chaos. Old man said so. Can't build a house in a shithole. Can't build on top of a house. Can't build in a thicket of trees."
It was pretty serious advice, but Ibu was grinning like an idiot. Sigh, reeks of fool.
She looks like her head's messed up from too much of whatever "medicine" she's on.
"Damn thing. Listen up. You gotta plow it under, knock it down, chop it away, start from scratch to build a proper house. Old man's right, yeah? Say it."
"Sounds right."
The axe looked scary.
I nodded reluctantly.
It didn't sound wrong, really.
Erakins looked impressed.
As a house-builder, he must get her examples perfectly.
"That's some fine philosophy, Ibu."
"Hehe. Damn thing. Ibu hears 'fine' a whole lot."
Haa. A shallow sigh escaped me.
How'd the conversation go this far?
'If Silver Star were here, it'd point it out.'
Ah, money and chaos.
Say what I will, I ain't planning chaos. But for money, there's a lead.
"Heard there's a weird booze wizard near the eastern border city of Fiore. Two of these knocked-out guys owe that creep a debt."
Ibu's sleepy, half-lidded eyes snapped wide open like bam!
"Damn thing! I know him!"
If even Ibu knows him, that black magic user's a local celebrity.
"Damn thing. That fucker's super weird. Uses black magic; even Ibu let him slip once."
"You met Ibu too?"
"Damn thing. Yeah? Tried stealin' folks, got caught by me. Hehehe! I lopped off one arm with my axe, but it went poof like smoke! Super freaky."
Just like Fred said.
Turns into black smoke to escape, and that's how he recovered the severed arm too.
"Damn thing. See him again, I'll chop his head clean off!"
"Eek."
Ibu swung her axe with a beaming smile, and Erakins recoiled in horror.
'You say that with such a sunny grin...?'
I waited for Ibu to calm down and picked up where I left off.
"I thought about why that guy's stirring shit up. Combined what Requiya and Fred told me too."
"Damn thing. Takin' those two's yapping and mashin' it together—Kalluk's crazy smart. Ibu's got one brain, can't do that."
"...Yeah. Anyway, one of his goals is riches. Kidnaps people for ransom, brainwashes 'em with spells into monsters, makes 'em do bad shit like killing, arson, looting—like limbs of his. Probably traded black magic to nobles for kickbacks too. Bet he's got a pile stashed at his base."
"Damn thing. Then we steal that cash! Buy meat, buy clothes! Smash Drauven! Get married too!"
For the first time, I wished there was a spell to seal mouths.
She butts in choppily, voice getting louder—no stopping her.
I showed her my palms to calm her.
"Hey, don't get excited. Keep listening."
"Damn thing. If Kalluk says listen, I listen. Ibu's super calm."
Oh, sure you are.
"First, we gotta build up the fortress for people to live. Need laborers for that. Pay 'em wages, and whatever's left, we buy Ibu clothes and meat."
"Damn thing. Got it. But I chop that fucker's head. Lotsa villagers left 'cause of him. The guy who picked flowers for me, the sis who braided my hair—they married and left. Made me jealous."
...Was it really because of him?
Aah, talking to Ibu is seriously tough.
"Damn thing. Got it, Kalluk? Head's mine?"
"Yours."
Ibu grinned in satisfaction.
That smile's starting to look menacing.
Ah, speaking of chopping heads...
I stopped two steps from the bottom.
"Whoa, how'd I not think of this sooner?"
Ibu whipped her head around.
Ouch, her long hair lashed my face like a whip.
"Damn thing. What? Kalluk didn't think of somethin'? That's a big fat lie. Kalluk's smart as hell. No way you missed it."
She's talking logically for once, but listen close—it's empty words.
"Ibu's right? Say it."
Her eyes say it too.
She wants details.
"Hair's too long, it's annoying. Gotta cut it."
The wild woman's face bloomed bright as a white flower.
"Damn thing! Leave that to me!"
"I meant hair. Not head."
"Damn thing. I get it. Follow me. Ibu'll cut it super clean."
With that, Ibu strode ahead, cloak swishing excitedly.
Ibu halted where shattered rock chunks littered the ground.
"Damn thing. Here!"
She waved her logging axe wildly, calling me, while tapping a rock with her other hand.
'Should I...?'
She spat on her palm, gripped the axe, and grinned wide.
What the— she's scary.
Even the axe handle's all twisted weird.
I stepped back and said to the guy beside me.
"Erakins. You first."
"Suddenly? I like my long hair... I mean, this length suits me."
Erakins backed up two steps.
One more than me—hates it bad.
No choice; I stepped up.
'Blue Eye shows no danger signals. No intent to harm.'
Sheesh, activating Blue Eye for a haircut.
I sat on a big rock chunk like a chair in front of Ibu.
My hair bunched up, yanked somewhere—then my head jerked back roughly.
Crack. Crack. Crack-crack.
Chilling sounds as chunks of hair snapped off.
Not like sharp knife or scissors...
'This psycho! She's grinding it against the dull axe blade till it breaks!'
Shick-shack-shick. Crack. Crack-crack.
Moving might get me hurt, so I sat still.
"Hey, Ibu? You must have sharp knives—"
"Damn thing. Ibu likes axe."
Convenient excuse.
Perfect perpetrator logic.
Like saying others' pain or discomfort don't matter—only my tastes and fun do.
I'm a smart holy knight; I can analyze this.
Anyway, the haircut worked wonders.
Damn thing. My head felt light right away, rid of that heavy hair weight.
Almost done.
Erakins held up a mirror in front, lips pursed inward.
This punk.
"Funny? Huh?"
"No, sir. It suits you. Just... not used to the sudden short hair."
The two men facing each other held it in together.
Erakins stifled laughs; in the mirror, I fought back tears.
Not enlisting again or anything—why this?
Watching it shorten, that song comes to mind.
Leaving home, riding starlight to another world. Saluting the fire chief, stepping through death's gate.
No such song?
Didn't think so.
'Wore long hair as wished—no regrets. Short's better for fighting.'
I brushed off the deep golden strands from my clothes, regrets too.
"Hee-ya. Done."
Ibu smacked my head, grinning happily.
'Dull axe blade, yet this skill. Impressive. Damn thing.'
Not my favorite style, but short's fine for now.
No blood spilled—miracle enough.
"Damn thing. Ibu's turn now."
She handed me the axe and plopped down.
"Want me to cut?"
"Yeah. Ibu's hair too long. Saw Kalluk, got jealous. Short it is. Refreshingly, clearly, confidently."
This one's something.
Clouds parted; stars appeared.
Hellite's moon gazed down too.
What did that solemn, holy light say?
I blinked for advice; Luke nodded at me, raising his double-edged sword. Kim Jang-gun fighting!
Good.
"Damn thing. Whatcha waitin' for?"
Gotcha good.
Plans sorted, hair sorted.
Just finish revenge—perfect.
Day's end: refreshingly, clearly, confidently.