WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 329: Song of Verdigris and Heatblast - 1

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Lord of Heat and Explosions. The Heatblast Lord. Even from the name alone, they sounded hot-blooded. Considering how one's innate arcane was subtly influenced by one's personality, I wondered if they might explode if someone so much as poked them.

Their temperament was one concern, but the fact that they carried bombs was another. Someone more dangerous than a hothead was a hothead who used bombs that resembled themself. The former killed themself. The latter killed other people.

I didn't care if someone killed themself, but once they started killing others, it became my business. Just as I, thoroughly frightened, was about to seal the tent and hunker down inside,

the commander flung open the tent flap and rushed out.

"Don't act rashly! We're up against the Heatblast Lord!"

Standing in the middle of the road, the commander shouted at the fleeing people.

"Every one of their direct subordinates has a Heatblast engine strapped to their back! You can't escape anyway. Resist here!"

Maybe that was the most rational response. Explosions were threatening and loud, but less dangerous than they seemed. An explosion dispersed its force in all directions. If you knew even a little aura manipulation, you could offset shrapnel and heat blasts to some extent through the principles of Projectile-Deflecting Energy Art.

The truly dangerous thing wasn't the rockets. It was the lunatics riding around on them. Against them, sticking together and fighting was several times better than fleeing separately and getting picked off.

People were only rational halfway, though.

"Don't be ridiculous! You fight them if you want. I'm leaving!"

If everyone worked together, they might have been able to fight the Heatblast Lord. But if I ran while everyone else resisted, I'd definitely be safe.

That dilemma made every jackal in the camp choose to flee. Thanks to that, the camp jackals were defeated before they even fought.

They had no one left to fight for them, and couldn't even secure their own safety.

"Everyone, head for the north gate!"

"Then why are you heading for the south gate? You're trying to use us as bait!"

"Shut up! Just leave through the closest gate!"

Their flashes of cleverness were used solely to deceive one another. The uproar turned into shouting directed at each other. Even so, they were impressively consistent about grabbing as much of their stuff as possible before running.

The alchemists who had set up stalls got a later start than the others. As they hurriedly packed their belongings to flee, the commander shouted at them.

"You idiots! Don't go! This is the safest place! There is..."

'The Verdigris Lord here! An alchemist's natural enemy!'

Fweeeew.

A rocket tore through the tent and landed right in front of the commander's nose. The alchemists scattered in panic.

The commander could have dodged, but Perru stood behind them. Planning to block it themself, they infused the tent with aura and stepped forward.

Then,

"...Before me."

The flame burning at the fuse died out.

That wasn't all. The igniter that created the flame, the brass cylinder, neither could maintain its shape any longer. They crumbled apart. The fire became ash and smoke, while the steel rusted, corroded, and scattered away.

As everyone stood agape at the sight, Perru pulled back the tent flap and stepped onto the street. Trampling the crumbled steel underfoot, Perru murmured quietly.

"...Nothing shines."

The rocket had shattered and rusted in an instant. The alchemists who saw it let out groans without realizing it.

"The Verdigris Lord?"

After Perru appeared, conflicting emotions crossed the faces of the alchemist merchants. One was relief that they had survived. The other was fear of permanent loss.

It wasn't instinctive fear, but fear reached through understanding. The alchemists hesitantly backed away, clutching their property.

The reason was simple.

The power of Perru, the Verdigris Lord, made an alchemist's wealth, valuable metals and objects, unusable.

In the Lesser States, "unusable" carried a different meaning. Since alchemy could freely transform objects, metal always had value equal to its weight. Once it was no longer needed, it could simply be refined again and used for something else.

But Perru erased even the value inherent in weight.

Leaving behind nothing but rustscale debris that could be used nowhere.

"W-we survived... but..."

"That... ability..."

Protect their lives, or protect the wealth that was practically their lives. Faced with that difficult choice, the company alchemists agonized again and again.

Seriously. They had it easy. Imagine putting your life and money on a scale and actually debating it. I'd give them the answer.

"Hey! You there! She helped us, and instead of praising her..."

I was about to rebuke them severely and drive them out to use as shields for myself. I was choosing what to say next.

My sleeve tore, and black fragments pattered down. They were the remains of square cards, charred as though they had been through a fire.

That pattern was... a diamond? Wait.

"Aaaaaah! My Diamond Cards!"

Oh no. Every Diamond Card was made of alchemical steel with transformation properties. They were extremely vulnerable to Perru's ability. They had crumbled just from being within range! It was even eating through my clothes!

The Clubs that held mana and the Hearts used to store medicine had relatively stable properties, so they remained for now, but even they didn't seem like they would last long. I tucked the cards hidden in my sleeve deeper inside and shouted.

"Stop your ability! At this rate, my cards will all disappear!"

"...Ah."

'...I broke things again. All that work for nothing.'

Perru bitterly looked at the fragments and withdrew her ability. But stopping the authority of corrosion didn't end it. Once metal began corroding, the process gradually accelerated until it quickly became unusable. With a bleeding heart, I sifted through the remnants of my Diamond Cards. It felt as if my heart were crumbling too.

Using my miserable cards as an example, the alchemists made their decision. One stepped forward as their representative and spoke.

"Verdigris Lord. Forgive our rudeness, but if you remain here, we have no choice but to leave as well."

It was incomprehensible by ordinary standards, but the Lesser States were ruled by a different kind of common sense. Perru, who possessed the Lesser States' common sense, understood them.

"...I know."

"However."

The alchemist continued.

"Your authority should work on Juggernauts as well. If you drive back the Heatblast Lord, we will reward you generously."

In other words, an ordinary alchemist was telling a Lesser States Lord to go out and fight because both their lives and money were too precious to lose. What gave them such confidence when dealing with an alchemist acknowledged by the Lord of Gold?

Still, surprisingly, that was possible in the Lesser States.

'The Verdigris Lord, Perru, has neither money nor influence. Her ability destroys and ruins everything, so she can't accumulate wealth or build a faction. Give her a few coins, and if things turn bad, run. She has no way to catch us anyway.'

This land was a country ruled by a strange economic system. Perru had no money, no influence, and no ability to build either, so she wasn't welcome. Everyone feared her ability, and everyone recognized its power.

But that alone wasn't enough to live in the Lesser States.

Despite the alchemists' transparent request, Perru did want to stop the Heatblast Lord. But...

"...I can't fight."

'...What Lords create is valuable property... If I fight, whether I win or lose...'

Value disappeared.

No matter how someone fought in the Lesser States, no matter what someone plundered, as long as it existed within the Lesser States, it would eventually be transformed into another object.

But merely using her ability ate away at the Lesser States' assets. She was the natural enemy of alchemy, of the Lesser States itself.

That was why Perru couldn't fight. Instead,

"...If you drive them away."

Perru spoke to me.

"...I'll cooperate. With anything."

Oh? The subcontracting had been subcontracted all the way down to me now. What a situation. I didn't enjoy being used.

Still, I could think of it as a small investment. Besides, even if no one asked us, it looked like the Heatblast Lord would be dealt with by our group anyway.

I took out one of my remaining Diamond Cards. Diamond 1, the skewer containing Tyr's true blood that I had made in the Abyss, remained intact even under Perru's authority. I transformed the card alchemically into a skewer, then spun it around in one hand.

"Understood. Hey, you alchemists. Have my payment ready. And don't even think about hiding your goods in advance because you think I'm an easy mark."

The alchemist who had been planning to hide goods flinched at my words and shouted.

"Who, who are you?"

"Me?"

If someone asked who I was, it was only proper to answer. I snapped the skewer into my grasp, struck a pose, and said,

"I'm an apostle of peace, dedicated to protecting peace in this world."

"Woof! Woof woof! Fire! Fire! Woof woof woof!"

Azzy came racing toward us from the distance. Judging by the soot all over her, she had gotten caught in an explosion. Barking loudly, Azzy ran straight toward me.

Good timing. My legs were a little slow, so perhaps I could borrow hers.

"For peace, I'll borrow this for a moment."

With that, I headed for an abandoned cart. Someone fleeing had apparently left the cart behind and taken only the horses. Climbing onto it, I tapped my foot and shouted.

"Azzy. Dog sled. I need your help!"

"Woof! Just this once!"

Azzy rushed over like the wind, landed with a crash in front of the cart, and bit down on the shaft. Even a heavy cart pulled by two horses seemed light to the King of Dogs, and its front wheels easily lifted into the air.

"Let's go!"

"Woof!"

At my signal, Azzy kicked off the ground.

Who said only hoofed animals could pull carts? Any animal that could pull a cart was a cart-pulling animal, and dogs were no exception. Humans pulled carts too, after all.

Then the King of Dogs in human form had to be better than anyone.

Crash. With the sensation of my body being thrown backward, the king of dog sleds raced through the streets of the Lesser States.

As I sped along at full speed, shocked voices rang out behind me.

"Is he insane? He's making a dog beastkin pull a sled!"

You all sound like the regressor. Is that really all you have to say? You're making the regressor look normal.

Tch. I'd deal with them when I got back.

Outside, the flight was in full swing.

More than several hundred jackals were scattering like a swarm of rats. True to their nature, they were all fairly fast, and it looked as though no one could catch even one of them alone.

"Whoo! Do you think you bastards can get away? First Wing, take the left! Second Wing, take the right! The rest of you, spread through the gaps!"

But first, they weren't alone.

"Hehehe! Do you crawling things think you can escape Lord Rowkett's Dragonhawk Corps? Everyone, ignite!"

And second, every one of them had a strange propulsion device attached to their back.

Once they ignited them, the shadows hidden in the night sky revealed themselves. People with enormous wings and rockets hanging from them glided through the night sky as though it belonged to them. They didn't flap their wings like birds, but

the Dragonhawk Corps tilted their wings and climbed. Reaching their peak, they straightened their bodies and shouted.

"Now! It's time to hunt! Tear them apart, cut them down, take everything!"

"Wheeeeeee!"

Dozens of flames bloomed in the sky. The Dragonhawk Corps members, carrying Heatblast engines, descended toward the ground together, their fire tails trailing long behind them.

The jackals were hunted indiscriminately in the organized hunt.

When a corps member spread their wings wide and swung a leg, the blade fixed to the tip of their foot ripped through a jackal's body. The jackal gave a single scream and rolled across the ground. There was no need to finish them off. The jackals had been riding at high speed, so being thrown from their mounts dealt a heavy impact.

Even if they recovered their senses, jackals who lost their mounts had no choice but to surrender. Without transportation in this wilderness, they would only be plundered.

One jackal evaded a Dragonhawk Corps attack with astonishing driving, but a maneuver that would become the jackal's lifelong boast was only one attempt to the corps. Even if they missed, the corps members left the target to a following comrade and searched for their next prey.

They rose again, then descended. Whenever waves of wings swept through, bloody foam burst into the air. The Dragonhawk Corps carried out a slaughter that more than lived up to their name.

"R-run!"

"Save me!"

The jackals were too disorganized to face the Dragonhawk Corps, who attacked from the sky with roaring engines. The jackals fled separately and fell without accomplishing anything. Those running with their heads covered spotted a gap in the encirclement and shouted.

"Look! There are none of them over there!"

The direction was south. No Dragonhawk Corps members could be seen in the direction of the military state. It was such an obvious lure that even a fool would recognize it.

But they had no other choice. The jackals desperately headed that way.

Rodri, the Wing leading the Third Wing, laughed wildly as they all fled at once.

"Hehehe! Yes! Run! Toward the military state! That's the only place you can live! Hahahahahaha!"

A Feather flew up beside Rodri, who was enjoying the hunt after so long. Rodri noticed the approach and slowed down. The Feather matched Rodri's speed by a hair and asked,

"Captain. They're pretending to go to the military state now, but won't they make a wide detour once they leave our range?"

"Hehe! Of course they might! But those things, running in such a hurry with barely any money or food, think they can run far enough to avoid us? It would be faster to cross the border and come back!"

Once the Heatblast Lord adopted such a hard-line stance, the jackals had only one option.

They would plunder the military state, then sell the steel protected by plunder guarantees.

A plunder guarantee wasn't certain to be honored one hundred percent of the time, but Lords with Juggernauts were different. If they didn't want the Lord of Gold's masterpieces, the Juggernauts, to be taken from them, they had to honor those guarantees and do everything they could to make them a reality.

The jackals knew that fact well. That was why they had no choice but to head for the military state.

Not to plunder the military state, but to preserve at least their own property.

And Rodri pointed that out.

"Our duty is only to crack the whip over those pig bastards! Come on, everyone! Let's give them the motivation to plunder!"

The Third Wing's captain flew ahead after shouting that. The other Dragonhawk Corps members, who understood the meaning a moment later, snickered and followed.

Those with full bellies were reluctant to hunt.

To make them commit to plundering with all their hearts, the corps would split open their bellies and shake every last coin out.

But they didn't know.

What was mixed into that pack of jackals.

Footnotes:

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