Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Focal Point
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‘The defenses are tight.’
A crude but towering wall.
Watchtowers positioned at regular intervals.
Monster troops patrolling without respite.
‘No gaps in sight.’
It was no different from a human fortress.
No, perhaps even more formidable.
Monsters with their wild instincts were guarding it.
"This way."
Kanna whispered softly.
Her gaze fixed on a section of the wall.
"There, where the giant tree’s shadow falls."
A particularly dark spot, surveillance lax.
‘That spot.’
It looked promising.
The moment he made that judgment.
Rumble...!
A massive tremor shook the earth.
At the same time, a heavy metallic clang echoed.
Screeech... Bang!
The forward base’s massive gate swung open.
And from within, something poured out.
"......!"
Damian and Kanna, watching from afar.
Their eyes widened round.
It was a shocking spectacle.
‘An army.’
It was unmistakably an army.
Organized, systematic, overwhelming in scale—a monster legion.
“Groooar!”
Leading the charge: heavily armored orc cavalry.
Riding well-trained wolves, they surged ahead.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Following: troll and ogre heavy infantry.
Monsters clad in crude steel armor and weapons.
‘Even elite specimens mixed in.’
Higher-grade individuals serving as officers, like in a human army.
At this point, it wasn’t just a monster wave.
A clear army-versus-army clash.
War.
“Those bastards......”
Kanna muttered in astonishment.
“They’re heading for Lament’s Spine.”
A blatant advance.
A massive assault on Sobkov Territory.
A night raid cloaked in darkness.
"Then those are the vanguard."
Damian calmly assessed the situation.
They charge ahead, link up with other forest monsters.
Forming a colossal wave.
‘Of course, Lady Elena’s defensive line is solid, but......’
Worry gnawed at him.
That scale wouldn’t be easy.
‘They’ll hold.’
They had to.
Damian refocused.
What mattered now was elsewhere.
‘Opportunity.’
With that vast army marching out.
The base’s surveillance would be relatively thin.
"Now. Let’s move."
Damian said curtly.
Kanna nodded.
"I’ll go first."
Damian unfastened the rope and hook from his waist.
"Huuuuh...!"
Then he charged the wall.
What was he planning?
Whoosh!
His first move was straightforward.
Scaling the wall surface directly.
He reached half the height in seconds.
‘Strength-climbing ends here.’
Of course, that alone wouldn’t conquer the towering wall.
Soon, Damian’s momentum faltered.
Power waning—he teetered on the brink of falling.
‘Now!’
Damian hurled the rope with all his might.
The hook sliced through the air.
‘Rope Throwing.’
The skill pilfered from Black Hand thugs.
It shone in this pivotal moment.
Clank!
The hook snagged perfectly on a structure atop the wall.
Taut, it arrested Damian’s fall.
‘Got it.’
Damian hauled himself up immediately.
Scanned the surroundings, then lowered the rope.
Grab and climb.
"Hup!"
Kanna snatched it without hesitation.
She ascended in a flash.
"Now, I’ll call the others."
The wooden flute used all operation long.
Kanna blew it deftly.
Pweee...
Indistinguishable from a bird call.
Sobkov Territory’s signature signal.
"Here they come."
Moments later.
The full suicide squad assembled atop the wall.
"Any peculiarities?"
Lord Mikhail asked.
"A large army just marched toward Lament’s Spine."
"No need to worry. Elena will handle it."
The lord’s faith in his daughter was unshakable.
The others nodded.
"Rather, it’s an opportunity."
Major forces depleted from the base.
"Move."
The squad crept stealthily along the wall.
Eyes avoiding patrols—how much farther?
Soon, their gazes turned inward to the fortress.
And that instant.
“......!”
Every face in the squad hardened.
A sight far exceeding expectations.
‘......A forge?’
No, factory scale.
Dozens of smithies belching crimson smoke.
Clang! Clang! Claaang!
Hammers ringing ceaselessly.
Weapons and armor being forged.
Custom gear for hulking brutes.
‘Systematic.’
Orc, troll, tauren smiths.
Overseen by barbarian technicians.
Division of labor, efficient lines.
No different from human industry.
“Look over there.”
Twin knight Arsen pointed to one area.
More shocking than the forges.
‘Siege weapons.’
Catapults, ballistae.
Engines from human wars.
Even those under construction.
"Insane. Utterly mad."
Adnan chuckled hollowly.
Unbelievable, even eyewitnessed.
"These bastards were truly gearing for war."
Beyond waves—total war.
Undeniable proof laid bare.
"Now it’s certain."
Mikhail spoke calmly.
His eyes sharper than ever.
"He’s definitely inside the fortress."
Conviction laced his voice.
"The instigator of all these changes."
The ambition driving barbarians and monsters toward new civilization.
They had to find that focal point.
"Find him. Or traces at least."
As the lord’s order hung.
"......No need to hunt around."
Damian murmured low.
His gaze locked on the siege workshop.
‘That’s the one.’
Instinct screamed it.
Ominous barbarian, plainly unnatural.
‘Shaman.’
Grotesque helmet of beast skull and fur.
Sinister mana pulsing from the birch staff.
Dozens of troll berserkers as escort.
“That man......”
Kanna recognized him.
His status, precisely.
“Looks like the Shaman King of the Bone Wolf Tribe—one of the Great Jungle’s three great tribes.”
Bone Wolf Tribe.
Mighty even among jungle powers.
Their Shaman King, no less.
“So that bastard’s the culprit?”
Mikhail asked.
“Can’t swear to it, but his rank’s no trifle.”
Kanna’s cautious reply.
"From what we’ve seen, at least forward base commander level."
"Hmm, I see."
Behind all this chaos.
Or the base chief.
‘In war, forward bases are the army’s heart. A commander there wouldn’t be low-rank, as Kanna says.’
Mikhail pondered.
Then decided.
"......If that Shaman King is the mastermind, or if we can uncover the true puppetmaster through him."
His voice dropped low.
"This is our chance. To resolve much at the squad level."
Assassinate.
Torture intel out.
Grasp the foe fully, needless to say.
Shatter command, sow chaos.
Opportunity.
"What say you? Worth staking our lives?"
A gambit to potentially shatter the endless monster wave curse.
Valuable. Perilous.
“We’ve come this far—gotta see it through, right?”
Balrog intoned heavily.
“What’s a suicide squad for if not this? Risk life once. Live or die, heaven’s call.”
Adnan chimed in.
Trollbane brothers nodded.
Resolve ignited in every eye.
"Damian Winter, you?"
The question turned to him.
Honestly, he wavered.
No desire to bet his life.
‘Unlike them, I’m no Sobkov native—just a merc.’
No deep ties.
Here solely to devour prime skills.
‘But.’
That sharpened his purpose.
Not vague honor or loyalty.
Pure self-interest.
‘If I finish that Shaman King myself......’
Prey beyond solo reach.
Claiming his dying breath?
What skills to devour?
Anticipation dwarfed the fear.
"I’m in."
"Knew you would."
The lord nodded, pleased.
Then commanded Kanna.
"Kanna."
"Yes, my lord."
"Return to the territory at once. Deliver all intel gathered, and one of Damian Winter’s two maps to Elena."
"Any specific words or orders?"
"None. She’ll judge wisely."
"Understood. Good hunting."
Alone, escaping enemy core.
Wave just departed.
Life on the line, like the rest.
Yet no demur—she moved.
"Keep moving."
Target: Shaman King.
Moment he strays or isolates.
The six strike.
The soundless hunt began.
Silent.
And still.
“You’ve arrived, Master.”
Heart of the vast tent.
A young shaman knelt there.
Naktum, Bone Wolf Tribe’s rising star.
“Indeed.”
The man before him.
Bone Wolf Tribe’s Shaman King.
Kaldram nodded gravely.
"Heard the vanguard depart."
"See? Blind yet you sense it."
Kaldram took the throne.
Chair of countless wolf bones.
Deep rage in his eyes.
‘Prison.’
He’d always seen it so.
This vast jungle—a cage.
“Master, some worry?”
“Worry......”
Kaldram scoffed.
“How could there be none?”
His gaze pierced beyond the tent.
“Caged like beasts.”
Prison.
Naktum looked puzzled.
“Prison? This is our soil, Mother Earth’s bosom.”
“Who decreed it?”
Kaldram’s tone weighed heavy.
“Who claimed this our land—and locked us in?”
A thrust to the core.
Naktum fell silent.
“Those haughty civilized folk.”
Kaldram rose.
Eyes aflame with fury.
“They drew lines at whim, branded us barbarians, scorned us.”
Hundreds of years.
Or longer.
Jungle tribes endured so.
Shrouded in civilization’s shadow.
“We’re no barbarians.”
Never once believed it.
“We’re free folk.”
Freedom.
The value Shaman King Kaldram chased lifelong.
“Devoted my life to it. Escaping this prison. Finding the path.”
Decades probing.
Civilized tongue, lore, craft.
Even mightier shamanism.
Via pilfered tomes, captives from beyond the jungle.
“Then one day, enlightenment struck.”
Sudden revelation.
Mighty spirit magic’s awakening.
And grand design.
“The sole escape from this prison.”
Spirit power bent monsters to will.
Uniting the Great Jungle.
Tribes by the hundreds—monsters too.
“We’re nearly there.”
Cruel smile curled his lips.
“The moment to burst forth, seize true freedom.”
Gaze westward.
Sobkov Territory’s bearing.
“Sobkov begins it.”
Long suppressors of jungle liberty.
"Their arrogant civilized blood and flesh for a new age......!"
Kaldram’s madness swelled.
As curses flew at civilization.
Boom!
The tent’s flimsy wall shattered.
"Suicide Squad!"
Six shadows lunged from all sides at Kaldram.
Sobkov’s infiltrators, over the wall into the fort.
"Engage!"
Rumble...!
The tent floor quaked.
Something erupted from the earth.
‘Earth Spirit.’
A titan of boulder and soil.
The supernatural colossus swung its fist.
Toward the nearest: shield knight Balrog Gardner.
Booom!