WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 156

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The Great Clash (2)

'This... this is dangerous!'

The merchant company's senior manager had jolted awake and fixed his face into a hard stare as he took in the scene.

Not good.

He'd run countless caravans over the years and crossed paths with more than a few bandits and mountain thieves along the way, so he could tell.

The orcs surrounding them, grinning ear to ear, weren't ordinary bandits.

A bandit wanted "goods," coveting wealth through violence or threats. But these orcs seemed interested in violence itself far more than gold or jewels.

Their eyes, reflecting the Light spell, gave off a bone-chilling gleam.

"Kill them all."

Whatever worry the manager had felt reached its peak the moment the one who looked like the leader of the orc bandit gang opened his mouth.

No negotiation at all. Straight to the order to attack.

He'd even spoken in the continental common tongue instead of Orcish, deliberately.

The intent was obvious. He wanted them to hear it, to understand, and to fall into fear and confusion.

Of course, he couldn't let that happen.

He stepped forward quickly and called out in a loud voice.

"Everyone, stop!"

A booming voice, surprisingly powerful for such a thin frame, filled the plain.

The orcs, who had been closing in with smug grins, froze in place for a moment.

The charisma of a merchant who'd spent decades crossing the northern continent had, for that instant, stolen the momentum right out from under them.

Of course, there was no guarantee they'd stay frozen for long.

The anxious manager pressed on quickly.

"We are the Marc Merchant Company, under the protection of Viscount Nubes! If even one of us is harmed, we vow to mobilize the company's funds and the viscount's forces alike for bloody vengeance!"

It was true.

Viscount Nubes wasn't a warlike man, but he was a man of loyalty, not the type to look away if his own merchant company were slaughtered.

His forces were considerable, too.

The manager widened his eyes, hoping Nubes's reputation carried weight with these orcs, hoping his heartfelt threat would land.

A fight had to be avoided at all costs.

No matter how much unexpected firepower they had on their side, Illia Lindsay included, taking on this many enemies would mean heavy losses. That much was certain.

"Skxorhdwk aksgdl tkfkdgowntpdy."

A moment later, Orcish words spilled from the bandit leader's mouth.

A language most of the company, who spoke the common tongue, couldn't understand.

But the experienced manager caught it immediately.

'Kill that bastard.'

The color drained from his face, and just as he tried to step back,

one of the orcs in the front row hurled a hand axe with an oily grin.

Whoosh, the blade came flying with a terrifying whistle, and the manager let out a silent scream, while the mercenaries behind him wore looks of shock.

That was when a silver-haired woman appeared in front of him in an instant and drew her sword.

Kchang!

Illia Lindsay deflected the hand axe with one clean motion.

She looked like she hadn't spent any effort at all doing it, and a few of the orcs looked visibly rattled, while a sigh of relief slipped out from the merchant side.

Still shaken, the manager forced calm into his voice.

"Thank you."

"Step back."

"Y, yes. Understood."

The manager obeyed without argument.

He'd realized this wasn't a place for him.

He staggered back into the ranks of the guards, and the mercenaries helped support him.

A heavy silence settled over the plain.

Neither the merchant side nor the bandits said a word for a while.

But the murderous mood hadn't lifted at all. The bandit leader's expression, in particular, looked dangerous.

His eyes gleaming with interest and curiosity, he looked over Illia, Airen, Brett, and Judith one by one.

Illia tensed inwardly, watching him pick out the strong ones with unnerving precision, and the orc leader flicked a finger.

"Come here."

"Spdspd."

The subordinate who'd thrown the hand axe answered in Orcish and stepped in front of the leader.

His expression was suddenly so respectful it seemed like a different person from the one who'd worn that oily grin a moment ago.

The bandit leader brought his fist down on that subordinate's head and burst it open.

Splat!

Flesh scattered in every direction, as if something had exploded.

The merchant company stood frozen in shock at the sight, completely unprepared for it, and the orc leader burst out laughing.

His men followed suit, laughing as though it were the funniest thing they'd ever seen.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha

Ohaha, oheh, ohehehe

Hihi, ohihihi, hrrrhi...

The smell of blood spread thick across the plain.

Laughter rose through it, and the bandit leader's eyes glistened with something dark.

After a moment, he stopped laughing and spoke again in the common tongue.

"Not bad, your side. I'll give you a chance."

"........."

"One on one. Beat the man I send out on your own, and we'll leave quietly."

Click!

The orc leader didn't bother stating what would happen if they lost. There was no need to.

He snapped his fingers, and one of the orcs dismounted and strode forward.

Solid, heavy build, like his whole body was packed with stone instead of muscle.

He carried a spiked iron club, and he held it like it weighed nothing at all.

Illia knew instantly.

'These aren't ordinary bandits.'

She could tell the moment she looked at him.

The one standing before her now was nowhere near below Expert rank.

Considering orc warriors carried more raw strength than humans to begin with, she guessed he could hold his own even against the elite duelists of the Proof Land.

Of course, she never doubted she'd win.

Even having lost her goal, lost her direction, she was still a Sword Master.

There was no version of her that lost to some small fry like this.

What worried her instead was...

"Move."

Just as Illia Lindsay was caught up in thought, Judith stepped up beside her, having closed the distance without a sound.

She stepped in front of Illia.

And spoke to the bandit leader.

"I'll take this loser."

"........."

"Well? Fine by you?"

"Heh, sure, go ahead."

The bandit leader nodded readily at Judith's provocative request, and the merchants watching grew visibly anxious.

They knew she was skilled, sure. But no matter how good she was, she couldn't measure up to Illia Lindsay, a Sword Master.

And the orc who'd stepped forward carried an unusual air about him, too.

"Ha ha..."

Fwoooosh!

His presence only grew stronger.

Whether he understood human speech or had simply sensed the situation, no one could say for sure.

But one thing was clear: that orc's fury reached all the way to the merchants standing far off.

Their tongues went dry with tension.

"Should I just get started?"

Whether Judith noticed the merchants' state of mind or not, she stayed calm the whole time.

Her eyes, composed to the point of feeling almost flat, fixed on the orc leader.

She looked at her opponent standing right in front of her as if he weren't even worth noticing.

The orc warrior snorted hard through his nose at her attitude, and then the leader's voice rang out.

"Wnrdufk."

An instant later, the massive iron club came crashing down toward Judith.

Fwooooom!

The onlookers couldn't even scream. There wasn't time to open their mouths.

Despite its enormous size, the speed of the strike was absurd.

Kalzen, Frederick, even the veteran mercenaries all pictured Judith's mangled corpse, upper body torn away.

That wasn't what happened.

Still wearing her flat expression, she moved.

Bang!

Slice!

Judith's form vanished like a will-o'-the-wisp flickering out, reappearing behind the orc warrior in a flash.

At the same moment, her sword thrust cut cleanly across his throat.

That wasn't the end.

Slice

Slice

Slice, slice, slice!

Faster, faster still, an explosive barrage of continuous strikes from Judith!

Each one tore through the orc warrior's body in turn.

Steel-hard bones, stone-hard muscle, and still she carried on the assault at ease, as if she felt no resistance at all.

Whoosh!

Judith sheathed her sword, flicked the blood from it, and turned to look at the bandits.

Behind her, chunks of the orc's body crumbled to the ground, and she spoke.

"Get lost."

"...!"

"...!"

Both sides, the bandits and the merchant company, watched the outcome with equal shock.

Judith's skill went far beyond what anyone had expected.

They'd seen her spar with Brett, but their eyes hadn't been sharp enough to gauge her true strength.

In the end, the only names burned into their minds were Illia Lindsay and, matching her step for step, Airen Farreira.

So when Judith showed such an overwhelming display, the merchants' morale shot straight up.

Tap!

Bang!

Of course, the fight wasn't over.

The orc leader dismounted and swung his fist again. Blood sprayed from the neck of a horse that lost its head and collapsed.

The oily fluid drenched his entire body, but he paid it no mind.

Actually, his face was already caked with the dried, strange markings of the blood of the subordinate he'd killed earlier.

"Forbidden Sorcery. Don't let your guard down."

A bloodstained rite most people assumed had died out by now.

A technique that vastly boosted the caster's physical abilities, at the cost of severe aftereffects.

Naturally, the effect was tremendous. Sorcery with a price always came down to something like a pact with a demon.

Wicked and unnatural, but in exchange, it granted power to match.

Kubharu explained this quickly, and Brett nodded.

Then, turning to Airen, he said,

"You're not planning on hesitating in a situation like this, are you."

There was a trace of worry in Brett's eyes.

No one knew Airen Farreira's character better than he did.

Sometimes Airen showed a will strong enough to be unbelievable, but in a moment like this, where he had to 'kill' someone, he might fall short of even an ordinary person.

"...I'm fine."

Fortunately, Airen Farreira's voice, when he answered, barely shook at all.

He adjusted his grip on the sword he'd already summoned and thought of one person.

'Ignet Crescentia.'

Her eyes, certain and unwavering, as she'd struck down Charlot and Victor in an instant when they'd been consumed by darkness.

He still couldn't do that. Not yet.

He would keep struggling, keep wandering, probably long after this was over too.

But one thing was clear.

'Now isn't the time to hesitate.'

Airen let out a hot breath. Resolve settled firmly into his expression.

Kubharu and Brett, watching him, felt relief wash over their faces.

Lulu darted over quickly and gently stroked the top of Airen's head.

Hmmmmm...

Meanwhile, the bandit leader's presence grew even more savage.

From the body of the orc whose head had been burst.

From the shredded remains of the club-wielding orc.

From the shattered corpse of the horse as well, blood kept seeping free.

The blood rose into the air and flew toward the leader's body, deepening the black-red of the tattoos covering his frame.

"........."

"........."

The four of them had stepped forward by now, along with Kubharu and the cat Sorcerer Lulu.

No small tension settled over their faces.

If this were a warrior using Aura, it wouldn't be like this.

But he was wielding some entirely unpredictable power, and there was no way to guess how strong the enemy really was.

That was when it happened.

Boom!

A massive hammer came flying out of nowhere and slammed into the bandit leader.

Kwakwakwakwakwa!

He went flying far off, carving a wide, deep gouge into the ground.

Hidden behind a towering cloud of dust, both the orcs and the merchant party wore looks of pure shock.

A moment later, as the dust settled, an orc emerged from within it.

Seeing the axe in his hand, forged entirely of metal from handle to blade, Airen's group guessed his identity at once.

One of the Continent's Ten Strongest.

Former chieftain of the massive Durkali tribe.

A warrior beyond compare, and a spirit mage beyond compare.

And finally...

'Kubharu's father.'

The orc Karakum.

His white hair streaming in the wind, his presence overwhelming beyond words, every soul on that plain held their breath.

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