Volume 5, Chapter 20 – The Dragon-Slaying Adventurer

The air was filled with the scorched smell of fire. The cries of the elderly and children mixed with the crude curses of soldiers, flooding the eardrums. The palpable fear in the air made Rabir frown. Using the bright light from the burning houses, he looked at the old, weak, sick, and disabled who had been gathered in the village square.

Compared to ferocious and clever monsters, these Snake-folk villagers were easier to deal with than slimes. Slimes had no intelligence and felt no fear; even if you killed most of their companions, the remaining ones would still crawl forward out of instinct. But with these villagers, you only had to grab one person, and the rest would obediently submit for his safety.

It was a dull and low-class job. If it weren’t for the money, he wouldn’t have come. Only by fighting the strong could one improve, especially in a life or death battle. The thrill of walking on a knife’s edge, where a moment’s carelessness meant death—just thinking about it sent a tingling numbness from the base of his spine all the way up his back.

Better get this over with and go back. He had heard that the Cold Night had declared war on Silvar. As long as he continued to be a mercenary for them, he would sooner or later be able to fight Silvar’s soldiers… no, the legendary and noble magic casters of Silvar’s Elf Tower. Just how much power could those madmen immersed in magic display? It was truly something to look forward to.

At this thought, a fierce light appeared in Rabir’s eyes. Like a true villain, he shouted at the people gathered in the village square.

“Who’s the leader? Step forward!”

“I… I am!”

As soon as Rabir’s voice fell, a young man of about twenty stood up from among the crouching villagers. In that instant, Rabir caught the look of surprise and astonishment in the other villagers’ eyes. His brow furrowed even tighter, and he nodded his head at a Lionfolk soldier beside him.

“Drag him out and kill him.”

“Yes!”

“W-wait, my lord! I’m the village chief!”

Seeing two Lionfolk soldiers with greatswords seize the young man, another old man hidden in the crowd tremblingly raised his hand, his cloudy eyes filled with both fear and a plea for mercy.

Only then did Rabir sneer.

“That’s more like it.”

There were only two abilities an adventurer valued most: sufficient strength, and outstanding judgment and adaptability. The former ensured they could complete their missions alive, while the latter allowed them to get more pay from their clients. This was the nature of being a contractor; communication skills were as important as technical skills.

And in his forty-plus years as an adventurer, Rabir had accumulated a wealth of experience in dealing with people. He could tell at a glance that the young man from before was by no means the village chief. Among humans and beastfolk, only someone with high prestige could become a village chief, and prestige often took time to accumulate. Therefore, most village chiefs were over forty years old. This was an unwritten rule.

Rabir waved his hand at the Lionfolk who were dragging the young man away, signaling them to stop. He then had the old man stand before him and deliberately toyed with a small knife to intimidate him.

“I’ll ask you, where is Tilulu? I’m just here for the money. I don’t want to get involved in the conflict between the royal family and you. As long as you give me an answer, I won’t bother you any further.”

“T-Tilulu? I don’t know her.”

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“Hmph, the people from the neighboring village already told me that Tilulu and a group of beastfolk came to your village, yet you say you haven’t seen them?”

To force the old man to confess, Rabir unceremoniously grabbed his collar and pulled him close. Beastfolk were like this; they responded to force, not softness. You had to get tough with them before they would obey.

The old man’s expression instantly turned to panic. Fear made him tremble as he hastily pointed a shaky hand towards Silvar.

“They went this way… this way!”

“So they fled to Silvar after all. If you had just told me earlier, there wouldn’t have been so much trouble. Let’s go!”

Rabir let go of the old man and immediately started to run in the direction he had pointed. But he had only taken one step forward when another man, who had been silent until now, suddenly grabbed his shoulder and shook his head.

“That’s the elves’ territory. Silvar is not like the Cold Night. Acting recklessly there will get you killed.”

“With several of us at the Fifth and Sixth Tiers, what are we afraid of? At worst, we grab the person and leave. Are they going to send several Sixth-Tier magic casters to hunt us across the continent?”

“Don’t forget that Elf King who hanged a Demon General on the city wall for decades. That pervert is at the Eighth Tier.”

“Can a king just run to this tiny border whenever he feels like it?”

“Send someone in to scout first. It’s never wrong to be cautious.”

The taciturn man frowned. Having been with him for many years, Rabir knew that he was already thinking of retreating. But for the reward offered by the King of the Cold Night, Rabir had to shout.

“Being too cautious will only delay the opportunity! Don’t forget the reward for bringing that girl back!”

“If you want to go, you go. I’m not going.”

“Fine, I’ll go myself!”

Saying this, Rabir walked directly in the direction the old man had pointed. His companions, as if used to it, did not step out to stop him. These two men were the strongest in the team, both at the Sixth Tier. Their personalities were complete opposites, and they often argued like this.

Taking advantage of Rabir’s departure, the quiet man took command and began to order the dozens of Lionfolk soldiers surrounding the village.

“Kill them.”

“Stop!” Rabir, who had only taken two steps, immediately turned around, his eyes already filled with anger. “You know I mean what I say. He has already told us the girl’s whereabouts. If you kill him, you’ll make me go back on my word.”

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“It’s our job to tie up loose ends for the employer. If this group of people spreads the word that the Lionfolk are still hunting down the former royal family, do you think we can still make a living in the Cold Night in the future?”

“What’s there to be afraid of? He didn’t pay us extra for our silence.”

“We will absolutely never speak of what happened today, absolutely not! My lords, I swear!”

Following Rabir’s words, the village chief knelt down and begged, his face on the verge of tears, not forgetting to kowtow repeatedly to Rabir. This made Rabir’s dissatisfaction with the cold man even greater. He had his principles. Although being an adventurer was a despised profession, among adventurers, some teams had good reputations, and some had bad. He didn’t want his team to be branded with the infamy of treachery.

He took a step forward and roughly pushed the cold man aside.

“Get out of the way! Today, no one will touch them without my order!”

“Are you crazy? What’s there to sympathize with a bunch of beastfolk for? Besides, you promised that you wouldn’t bother them. What does that have to do with me?”

“Don’t play word games with me. This has nothing to do with sympathy. A promise is a promise. Why do you think our team has survived to this day? Don’t push me. I’m serious.”

Rabir’s expression became incredibly stern. In the firelight, his sharp-featured face was intimidating.

However, the cold man did not back down. He drew his longsword, taking a stance as if he would start killing at any moment.

“Rabir, this is the one time I can’t let you have your way. The commissions in the Cold Night pay double what they do elsewhere. If word of this mission gets out, we can forget about making money here in the future. Stand down!”

“You dare!”

Before Rabir could draw his weapon, the cold man had already swung his longsword at the village chief’s head. At that critical moment, the burly Rabir chose to shove the man aside. But in that instant, an intense coldness invaded his entire body. He felt as if he were standing naked in an extremely cold land, the pain from the cold reaching the depths of his brain, causing a shudder to run through him from the bottom of his heart.

Countless experiences of struggling on the line between life and death told him that this sudden cold was by no means a natural phenomenon.

It’s an enemy attack.

[Thick Earth Barrier]

While leaping to the side, Rabir deployed a deep yellow magic barrier. A layer of hard, light-yellow scales also covered his body. This was [Ancestral Spirit’s Blessing], a spell he had mastered from a Holy Son’s ruin he had explored. It looked like only a thin layer, but its actual defensive performance far surpassed the Fourth-Tier [Thick Earth Barrier]. It was because of this defensive spell that he had the qualification to fight a dragon head-on.

However, today, even after using [Ancestral Spirit’s Blessing], the unease in his heart did not diminish in the slightest. A strong sense of crisis still gripped his heart, to the point that for the first time in a year or two, the thought of fleeing arose in his mind. This feeling was like the first time he encountered a gray wolf as a child; the stench of beast and blood that filled his nostrils went straight to his head, completely robbing him of the courage to fight.

Then, before he could think further, a warm stream splattered onto his face. He was very familiar with this warmth—it was the blood that sprayed onto a person after a limb had been severed by a sharp weapon. He subconsciously thought he had been injured—perhaps his hand had been cut off—but he did not feel his defensive magic being broken. He didn’t dare to linger, quickly retreating to see what had happened where he had just been standing.

It’s probably the village chief’s blood.

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Although the chief’s death meant breaking his promise, Rabir couldn’t care less now. The sudden fear had shattered his composure. There was an unwritten rule among adventurers: your own life was more important than anything else. Only adventurers who abided by this rule could come back alive from dangerous situations. He hoped this blood was the result of his companion killing the chief, but in his heart, he had a nagging feeling that the answer was the complete opposite.

“Ah… AHHHH!!!”

Before he could open his blood-stained eyes, he heard his companion’s scream. The cold man from before was clutching his bleeding right shoulder and stumbling back. His arm, still holding the longsword, had fallen to the ground, and the sword clattered noisily as it rolled.

As for the village chief, he was sitting dazedly on the spot, his blank look clearly showing he hadn’t understood what had just happened.

Run.

Although he hadn’t seen the enemy, Rabir’s subconscious was already telling him that he and his opponent were not in the same league. An enemy who could disable a Sixth-Tier powerhouse in an instant was definitely not someone to be trifled with.

However, before he could chant [High-Speed Flight], a cold female voice made him stop in his tracks, as if death would descend upon him the moment he began to chant.

“Is bullying the weak so much fun?”

Rabir subconsciously looked over and saw an elf in a black formal dress and shoes, with her white hair tied into a side ponytail, standing gracefully in the air. Her enchanted blade dripped with blood. The girl looked to be only fourteen or fifteen, but her features already had the makings of a nation-toppling beauty. The coldness in her bright red eyes made people not dare to approach, as if she were a doll made for death.

“Wh-who are you!”

The man with the cold expression gritted his teeth through the pain, took a potion from his storage item, and poured it on his wound. He could feel the difference in strength just as Rabir could, which was why he hadn’t counterattacked immediately, but instead chose to buy time for his partners to gather.

“We are adventurers commissioned by King Chazo Lian of the Cold Night. We have never met you before. Why do you attack us!”

If he just mentions the king’s name, this monster in a little girl’s body should show some courtesy, right? Rabir breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn’t think for a moment that this was an elf. An undead that had borrowed an elf’s body was the correct answer. Many undead that developed intelligence would borrow the corpses of others to walk in the world of the living. It was impossible to judge their strength by their appearance.

However, to Rabir’s surprise, the white-haired girl holding the enchanted blade did not lower her hostility, but only let out an interested hum.

“Trying to scare me with the name of the King of the Cold Night? If you knew my name, you would regret it so much you’d want to sew your mouths shut.”

“You are…”

The white-haired girl in mid-air raised her chin slightly.

“Dofilia Alexia Yushir, the Eldest Princess of Silvar.”

Like missing a step on the stairs, Rabir’s heart sank.

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Of all people, it had to be the Eldest Princess of Silvar! This creature isn’t an undead wearing a living person’s skin!

Rabir’s face instantly turned ashen. As the number one power on the northern continent, anyone who had lived in the countries surrounding Silvar would know the name of its Eldest Princess. She had reached the Seventh Tier at a young age, a once in a generation genius.

Now that the Cold Night had declared war on Silvar, and they had just admitted to being on the Cold Night’s side, this grim reaper-like Eldest Princess had every reason to kill them. They had pushed themselves into a dead end.

“Hah!”

While Rabir was still thinking about how to salvage the situation, the cold man with only one arm had already used magic on Fia. Three slowly floating, blue-purple trick-mines drifted towards her from three directions, their unstable flashing lightning containing a terrifying amount of magic.

At the same time, Rabir’s other companions also unleashed their magic at Fia. Everyone knew the elf princess was a magic caster. If they didn’t give her a chance to chant and attacked with the fastest and most intense barrage of spells, there was still a chance of victory.

Spells of all colors instantly lit up the night sky. Lightning, fire, ice blades, and even piercing spears were thrown out as if they cost no magic. One after another, plumes of smoke exploded around Fia. However, no one saw any splattering blood or fragmented limbs. It was as if all the hastily cast spells had hit empty air; nothing had happened.

It’s over. It’s all over.

Rabir let out a pained groan in his heart.

He had wanted to negotiate to save his companions’ lives, but now they had lost that chance. Since the princess, a magic caster, dared to appear here alone, she must have had help. In such a short time, his companions couldn’t have used any powerful spells. These spells must have been blocked in advance by her helper. Just as the princess had suddenly appeared by his side using invisibility magic, her helper must have the same kind of magic.

Oh, White Night Goddess, I did want to spar with the strong, but I never wanted to fight an opponent of this level!

Groaning aside, at this point, he had no choice but to move forward. Rabir also picked up his greatsword, preparing to gain an advantage in close combat. But with a strong blast of air that washed over him, he watched helplessly as his companions collapsed one after another like harvested wheat. Some were foaming at the mouth, while others had lost consciousness directly.

The victor was decided in an instant.

He had never seen an opponent of this level.

What in the world am I fighting? Is this really the strength an elf can display? Rabir was certain that even against a dragon, his companions would not have been so utterly defeated. Yet, in front of this elf princess, they were crushed like ants. This feeling of defeat and weakness, of death arriving without a chance to breathe, was even more tragic than when facing the Demon General of Absolute Death…

Before Rabir could react, a cold, murderous aura descended upon him. Goosebumps covering his entire body, Rabir didn’t even think, but held his greatsword horizontally above his head. Then, with a light clash, Fia’s enchanted blade tapped on his greatsword—because of this man’s earlier actions, Fia had not intended to kill him.

With some approval in her eyes, Fia nodded lightly.

“A good reaction. Tell me your name, then take your companions who aren’t dead yet and leave—don’t even think about taking the soldiers with you. I have other plans for them.”

Translator Note

white hair dabest!