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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Leaving Kardi was easy.
Just like entering, all they had to do was observe the guards’ patrol patterns and slip through the gaps in their surveillance. And even that wasn’t a problem, thanks to Angie.
Angie, the vestige of the Old Gods, with a Strength stat of 7, could easily carry two people on her shoulders.
And a bit of extra weight, like backpacks and supplies, didn’t slow her down. They slipped out of Kardi without a hitch.
They scaled the city walls while the guards were elsewhere, landing silently on the other side and heading into the desert.
They nearly ran into several patrols, but the guards were in such a hurry, their patrols so infrequent, that they remained undetected.
Just as the rumors suggested, the guards were on edge, their patrols rushed and infrequent.
Thanks to their haste, Aslan and his companions reached the desert without incident.
He had been confident they wouldn’t encounter any problems, and so far, he had been right.
If they encountered wraiths, he could handle them. And if they ran into monsters, they could hunt them for food and experience. In fact, hunting monsters would be good practice for Ereta, helping her readjust to life without divine powers.
They had plenty of food, water, and camping supplies, so he had no reason to worry.
His only concern was the possibility of encountering something other than wraiths.
Aslan, his hands raised slightly in a gesture of surrender, frowned, the desert sun beating down on them, the sparse, withered trees casting long, claw-like shadows across the parched earth.
He wasn’t the only one in this posture of submission.
Ereta, her face creased with a mixture of discomfort and annoyance, also had her hands raised. Angie, however, looked openly hostile, her arms crossed over her head.
And surrounding them, a group of Giants.
The Giants were an unusual sight, neither fully human nor monstrous.
Their facial features – mouths, eyes, the overall shape of their faces – resembled those of humans, but their heads were disproportionately large, their legs short compared to their long, gangly arms.
Their arms, long enough to drag on the ground, were held aloft, clutching crude weapons or resting on their shoulders.
The Giants’ weapons were mostly simple stone implements, crudely fashioned axes and the occasional pickaxe or spear.
Their attire was equally primitive, animal hides draped over their massive frames in a vaguely Grecian style.
Scales and fur adorned their bodies, and they snarled, their large teeth gnashing together.
–Khhhr!
One of the Giants let out a guttural sound, spraying saliva. Aslan sidestepped, avoiding the droplets.
“Human! Tell us the truth!”
“Yes! Tell us! Where did you come from?!”
“As I said, from Kardi…”
“Don’t lie! Tell us the truth!”
–Thud!
A Giant slammed its stone axe into the ground, sending a shower of sand into the air. Judging by the force of the blow, the Giant’s strength was considerable.
It was a shame their intelligence didn’t match their strength. Aslan sighed inwardly, glancing at his companions.
Unlike Aslan, who was simply annoyed, Angie looked furious. While he was trying to find a way out of this situation, she seemed eager to start a fight.
Ereta, unlike Angie, was relatively calm, but a dangerous glint flickered in her narrowed eyes.
If she still had her powers as a High Priest, she would have attacked by now.
‘I would have too, in her position.’
Aslan’s patience was wearing thin, standing there in the scorching sun, subjected to their pointless interrogation.
And the questions themselves were… less than intelligent.
“You human! You friend of the wraith-summoning mage!”
“Yes, human bad! Didn’t help us!”
“…I told you I came to help you. That I came from Kardi to…”
“Liar! We asked our lord for help! You not our lord! You weak! You friend of the bad mage!”
Their childish logic, their insistence that he was somehow connected to a mage, was infuriating.
Aslan sighed, the pointless accusations grating on his nerves.
“I could be here for other reasons. What if I was sent by your lord?”
“No! We are Giants!”
“I can see that.”
“Giants important! Strong! Our lord would come himself!”
Aslan frowned, exasperated by their stupidity. Fortunately, the Giants didn’t seem to notice, or care about, his expression.
“So you friend of mage! Tell us where mage lives!”
–Thud.
The stone axe slammed down again, closer this time. The shower of sand sprayed closer to Aslan. While their reasoning was childish, their strength was real.
Even Angie, in her current state, wouldn’t be a match for them. Their threats were legitimate.
“…Ha…”
Aslan exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. The air was thick with the Giants’ hot, heavy breaths, a pungent, animalistic scent.
The atmosphere was growing tense. The Giants were getting frustrated by his lack of cooperation.
They shifted their stances, their weapons raised, ready to strike.
“Tell us, human, or you die!”
Aslan blinked slowly, his eyes narrowing.
He hadn’t attacked them because they hadn’t directly threatened his life.
But now, they were openly threatening to kill him.
And if they attacked, he would have to follow his rule.
He killed anything that threatened him.
“I wanted to resolve this peacefully…”
“What?! Human, speak louder! We can’t hear you!”
Aslan lowered his raised hands, his face grim as he reached for the axe at his back.
“If you try to kill me… I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”
He drew the axe, holding it loosely in one hand, his expression cold and menacing as he spoke.
The chilling intent in his voice, the sudden shift in his demeanor, triggered the Giants’ survival instincts. They hesitated, a flicker of fear in their eyes.
But their dull minds quickly rationalized away the fear, and they roared again,
“Human, if you don’t tell us…!”
“Aaaaagh!”
A scream, louder than their roars, cut them off.
Aslan frowned, confused. He hadn’t done anything. Even the Giant who had been interrogating him looked startled. They turned towards the source of the scream.
One of the Giants, the one who had been holding a stone axe, had dropped his weapon and was running, his face contorted in terror.
–Thump! Thump! Thump!
His heavy footsteps sent plumes of sand into the air. The other Giants stared, their faces creased with confusion.
“Wraith! Wraith!”
“Run!”
They were looking past the fleeing Giant, their eyes wide with fear.
A translucent figure, its form a shimmering white and blue.
It looked like an ordinary wraith, but its size… it was as large as a Giant, its features identical to theirs. The giant wraith held a stone axe and was shouting, its voice inaudible.
“Don’t run, cowards! Fight!”
The Giant who had been interrogating Aslan shouted at the fleeing Giants, but they ignored him, their fear overriding their loyalty. As they ran, kicking up clouds of sand, the Giant turned and charged at the wraith.
–ROAR!
He swung his stone axe, a two-handed blow that sent a geyser of sand into the air.
A powerful attack, one no human could withstand, an attack even a priest would struggle to block. The sheer force of the blow was terrifying.
The problem was,
“Gah!”
…wraiths weren’t affected by physical attacks.
The wraith reached out, its hand passing through the swirling sand, and grabbed the Giant by the throat. If it had been a normal-sized wraith, it wouldn’t have been able to do that. But this wraith was as large as the Giant.
The Giant struggled, his legs kicking feebly in the air. His face turned blue as his airway was constricted.
Aslan watched the scene unfold, his confusion growing.
It wasn’t just the wraith’s immunity to physical attacks, or its sudden appearance.
It was something more fundamental, more unsettling.
‘Giant wraiths… don’t exist.’
The creature before him shouldn’t exist.
Wraiths were formed from the spirits of humans blessed by the Old Gods. They shouldn’t be able to manifest from demi-humans like Giants.
And yet, here it was, a giant wraith, real and undeniably dangerous, choking the life out of a Giant. Aslan, baffled by the sight, hesitated, then saw an opportunity.
An opportunity to offer undeniable proof.
He remembered a skill he hadn’t used since acquiring its new function, drawing the single-edged sword from his belt.
The activation method was the same as the other skills. He simply had to whisper its name.
‘Purity.’
As the word echoed in his mind, the sword glowed, its blade blazing with a pure white light, a beacon even in the bright desert sun.
Aslan gripped the sword with both hands, his legs spread wide, his stance solid.
He needed only three steps.
One.
He reinforced his legs with mana, his muscles coiling, ready to spring.
Two.
He raised the glowing sword, its blade humming with power, aiming it at the wraith.
Three.
He channeled the power of the sky, the raw energy of a thunderstorm, into his legs, whispering the name of the skill.
‘Call Lightning.’
–Crackle!
His body surged forward, his feet kicking up sand, his form a blur.
–Swish!
The blade sliced cleanly through the wraith’s neck. The severed head flew through the air, spinning, before landing on the ground.
A wraith’s head, not solid matter, yet severed like a human’s, rolling across the sand, silent.
The wraith’s body, its head gone, dissipated, its form dissolving as if it were a living being exhaling its last breath. The Giant, released from its grip, collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.
–Screech!
The wraith’s dying scream echoed through the clearing. Aslan, landing lightly on his feet, turned.
“Uh… wha…?”
His eyes met those of the Giant who had been interrogating him. As the Giant stared, his face a mask of confusion, one of the fleeing Giants turned back, witnessing the scene.
The wraith, screaming and dissolving, the human with the glowing sword, his fellow Giant coughing and sputtering on the ground.
The scene was clear.
The conclusion, however, was not.
“Lord! Our lord killed the wraith!”
The Giant shouted, his voice filled with awe, and the other fleeing Giants, hearing his words, stopped and turned, their eyes widening as they saw the vanished wraith. They exchanged glances.
“…What?”
As Aslan, baffled by their reaction – ‘Lord? Where did they get that idea?’ – watched, the Giants came running back, their voices filled with joy.
“Our lord came to save us!”
“L-lord?”
Even the Giant who had been interrogating him was now touching his own neck, a look of understanding dawning on his face.
Aslan finally understood.
The leader of the Giants had to be the strongest among them. And that strongest Giant, their leader, received the title of “Chieftain” from the Baron Werebeast.
Strength was power, and power was leadership. To the Giants, with their simple minds, they assumed the same was true for humans – the strongest among them must be their leader.
So they had seen Aslan’s display of power and assumed he was their lord.
Aslan, understanding their logic, but seeing the Giants surrounding him, their faces beaming with joy, their voices raised in cheers, thought to himself,
Impersonating a noble was a serious crime.
While he didn’t understand why, it was considered a serious offense in most countries.
And he wasn’t a noble, let alone a lord. He couldn’t just accept their adulation, couldn’t claim to be their lord.
The newly appointed Baron Werebeast would eventually arrive to deal with the Giant problem, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t reveal his true identity.
Being arrested for impersonating a noble wasn’t part of his plan.
“Wait. I’m not your lord.”
He raised his hands, stopping the cheering Giants. Their faces fell, confusion replacing their earlier joy.
“I am Aslan, the Master of Battle. Haven’t you heard of me?”
While they likely hadn’t, it wasn’t a lie. He was a Great One. It was better for them to call him that, if they had to call him anything.
The Giants, having never heard of him, looked at each other, scratching their heads, rubbing their chins, patting their bellies.
Then, the Giant who had been interrogating him, the one who had tried to fight the wraith, shouted,
“Great One! The Great One has come to help us!”
“Great One! Great One! He will save us!”
“He’s here to kill the wraiths!”
They clearly didn’t understand what a Great One was, but Aslan decided it was good enough. He sighed, relieved.
Ereta and Angie, still confused, approached cautiously. The Giants, seeing them, spoke.
“Great One, we take you to Chieftain! Talk to Chieftain! Help us!”
Their hostility was gone, replaced by a friendly enthusiasm. They beamed at him, their faces open and welcoming.
Aslan, seeing their simple, unchanging nature, both in the game and in reality, smiled wryly. At least they wouldn’t betray him.
“Alright, lead the way.”
He agreed, and the Giants, without hesitation, hoisted him and his companions onto their shoulders and heads, and set off at a loping run across the desert.
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