novelraw Chapter 102 : We’ll Hit That Monster Too
Chapter 102 : We’ll Hit That Monster Too
Chapter 102: We’ll Hit That Monster Too
He slashed his sword toward Potato’s foot, but nothing had changed from before.
Sigbard’s fists also failed to inflict a fatal wound.
Around dusk, Emily called the two of them.
“Today ends here!”
While climbing the cliff, their nerves had been on edge.
If Potato moved even a little, there would have been no way to respond.
That fear almost became reality.
The moment Robin and Sigbard set foot on the ground, Potato moved.
“Phew… That was almost disastrous…….”
Emily’s sigh sharpened their sense of danger.
If they had been any later, they could not have guaranteed their lives.
When they returned to the shelter, Burt was sitting in front of the campfire.
A long rod lay beside him, and dinner had been prepared.
Emily spoke fussily.
“Did you prepare this, Mr. Burt? I could’ve done it.”
“Eat.”
The stew boiling in the pot smelled fragrant.
He ladled it into a bowl and took a spoonful, and the warmth heated his insides.
Emily also served stew to Sigbard, but he could not focus, barely even looking at it.
Sigbard’s eyes were fixed on the rod.
Burt held the rod out toward Sigbard.
“Gunrad’s weapon. Think you can lift it?”
Sigbard received it with both hands.
“Ghk……!”
Anyone could see how heavy it was.
“I… can.”
His arms trembled as he lifted it over his head and stared straight at Burt.
Burt spoke while spooning up stew.
“Alright, put it down.”
Sigbard seemed unable to endure any longer and threw it behind him.
Robin braced himself for a massive impact, but there was no need.
Thud.
It landed as lightly as a single sheet of parchment, without any effect.
Robin stood up and examined it closely.
It was an ordinary rod.
“May I try lifting it?”
“You can’t lift it.”
Burt’s words stirred a bit of stubbornness in him.
When he looked to Sigbard for permission, he answered with a nod.
He grabbed the rod and put strength into his arms, but it did not budge at all.
Sigbard wore a slightly smug expression.
“How did you lift this with one hand, Boss Burt?”
“The weapon remembers me. If you keep it long enough, Sigbard, you’ll be acknowledged too.”
“You’re talking as if the weapon has a self.”
“Even if not a self, there’s will dwelling in it.”
“…….”
‘Let’s stop being surprised.’
Sigbard seemed to know already.
‘Because it’s his father’s weapon, is that natural?’
Even Emily remained calm.
She glanced more at Burt than the rod before opening her mouth.
“Mr. Burt, um… if you’re leaving tomorrow, I think you should depart then to avoid being late…….”
“I know.”
“Then I’ll pack the luggage in advance.”
“No need. I’ll be leaving everything here.”
“What?”
“Robin, Sigbard. A gift.”
The tent, camping tools, daily necessities, and food supplies.
Burt had no intention of taking any of it.
Emily’s expression brightened.
On the return trip, the reduced weight eased the burden.
It was good news for Emily, but Robin felt at a loss.
Without Burt, he could not imagine the two of them facing Potato alone.
“If you just keep doing the two things I told you, you’ll be strong enough.”
“Not using tricks, and continuously dealing damage to Potato?”
Burt nodded and spoke to Sigbard.
“Sigbard, when you have time, spar with Robin.”
“Understood.”
“And the monsters’ attacks will continue. They might even attack every day.”
“That’s unwelcome news.”
“They’re coming.”
The sound of footsteps crunching on snow approached.
Sigbard stood up to grab the rod, but Burt stopped him.
Robin set down his bowl and drew his sword.
The crackling campfire cast Robin’s shadow long.
Following that shadow, he walked toward the monsters.
When he had gone far enough that the firelight no longer reached, they lunged.
Robin closed his eyes.
Sharpening his senses, he threw his body toward them.
They ate, then dealt with the monster corpses.
Having done it once before, it went smoothly.
Around the time they finished cleaning up, Burt stood up first.
When they arrived at the cliff and looked down, Potato was swinging its forelegs.
“How long do you think it’ll take to take that thing down?”
“Let alone taking it down, we should be grateful if we don’t get trampled to death.”
“At the end of the day, Potato is still Potato. Porter, go provoke that thing.”
On the day of departure, Emily’s face, which had been beaming, stiffened.
She tried to retort but stopped herself.
“If you say provoke… to what extent……?”
“Enough to carve a scar.”
Emily resigned herself and drew her dagger.
Tadadadot.
She leapt straight down the cliff and drove the dagger into Potato’s nape.
Somehow, she carved a wound far deeper than the dagger’s length.
“Graaaargh!”
Startled by the sudden attack, Potato let out a roar.
Blood spurted like a fountain, soaking the ground.
Emily dodged the attacks and climbed back up, forcing a smile.
“Will this be enough……?”
“Well done.”
Bang! Bang!
Potato’s attacks grew fiercer.
“Robin, Sigbard. Go down.”
“…Now?”
“We’ll instill fear into it. If you’re nearby at that moment, it won’t attack rashly afterward either.”
Robin understood Emily’s feelings.
But Sigbard followed Burt’s words at once.
Potato’s foot narrowly missed Sigbard as he clung to the cliff with his bare body.
“No one here is sane…….”
Even as she spat out those words, Robin also headed down.
He gauged the timing right beside Sigbard.
Whooooom.
The moment it attacked with full force.
Robin and Sigbard kicked off the cliff at the same time.
As they drew arcs and landed on its head, Potato went even more berserk.
Goooom.
The raging Potato froze in that state.
When he lifted his head, Burt was glaring at Potato.
‘What is it?’
Potato trembled, its body stiff.
It was as if a puppy had touched its own tail.
Before anyone realized it, Sigbard had landed on the ground and was kicking Potato.
As Robin fell off Potato in confusion, Emily came down.
“Burt-nim’s help ends here. I’ll be rooting for both of you to achieve what you want.”
“Are you leaving now?”
“Yes. To be honest, it’s quite tight.”
Emily put on a distressed expression.
“How can I meet you again, Emily?”
“Hmm. It might be better not to.”
“Then at least answer this. Are you my enemy?”
“Well. I suppose that depends on what kind of choice you make, Robin-nim?”
‘As expected. She’s not an unconditional enemy.’
Leaving behind those ambiguous words, Emily floated upward.
In an instant, Emily climbed up the cliff and waved her hand.
Thud. Thump.
Only the sound of Sigbard beating Potato remained around them.
After Burt and Emily left, a single barbarian came to visit.
He asked Sigbard whether he could try lifting the rod, and Sigbard readily gave permission.
He strained with all his might until his face turned beet red, but he could not lift the rod.
Saying he would come back after building more strength, he returned to the village.
[Monster Subjugation Request]
[Participation Reward Settlement]
[List of Bastards Who Dined and Ditched]
.
.
.
The journal of the Mercenary King Harold was in surprisingly good condition.
Unlike its worn exterior, it was clean overall.
Being a journal, Robin wondered if it might contain records of legendary tales, but it was closer to a diary.
The writing, focused mainly on personal impressions, caught Robin’s interest.
Grrrr.
When night fell, monster attacks came every single day.
Facing monsters without using accelerated thinking was not easy.
Wounds accumulated on his body one by one, and what helped at such times were the items Burt had left behind.
If he had tried to obtain medicinal herbs and treatment tools himself, it would have taken quite a lot of effort, but they saved him time.
The same day repeated itself for a full month.
Though he could not know the news of the outside world, Robin believed that Emily would have delivered letters.
Believing that at least his survival would have been made known, Robin focused on his training.
The barbarian who had visited Sigbard before appeared again.
Once again, he failed to lift the rod.
He asked about Potato, and Sigbard suggested going together.
After some deliberation, the barbarian shook his head and returned.
Three months passed.
On the snow-covered mountains with no change of seasons, it was difficult to sense the passage of time.
Five barbarians came and said they wanted to try lifting the rod.
All of them failed.
The one change was that they wanted to see Sigbard deal with Potato.
Leaving the watching barbarians behind, Robin and Sigbard cut and struck at Potato’s legs.
When a year had passed, Robin let out a hollow laugh.
He had not missed a single day of training, yet he could not bring Potato down.
His fighting spirit had increased, but the speed of his growth was slow.
Facing monsters without accelerated thinking had become familiar.
Potato did not attack Robin or Sigbard.
Fortunately, it seemed the fear Burt had planted still remained.
What helped the most recently was sparring with Sigbard.
Amazingly, Sigbard knocked away Robin’s sword with his bare hands.
Spurring each other on, neither of them stopped training.
“We’ll hit that monster too.”
One barbarian said, pushing aside his fear.
The number of barbarians watching Robin and Sigbard exceeded ten.
It wasn’t that no barbarian had tried to go down the cliff in the meantime.
Potato could not assert itself against Robin and Sigbard, but it was different with others.
Previously, a barbarian had nearly been trampled to death by Potato the moment he came down.
After that, the barbarians who had remained mere spectators underwent a change of heart.
Sigbard replied with a smile.
“Of course.”
Sigbard went down first, and Robin descended the cliff together with the barbarians.
When Robin was nearby, Potato did not attack.
Only one person a day joined in beating Potato, but that alone was enough.
The suppressed battle instincts in the hearts of the barbarians were ignited.
When two years had passed.
More than a dozen barbarians harassed Potato at the same time.
They were not overwhelming it.
Nor were they fighting on equal footing.
They simply landed a single blow and then ran around, risking their lives.
Between you and me lies a gap that cannot be filled.
Even so, they landed a hit.
That fact stirred the barbarians.
Sigbard did his utmost to ensure that none of his kin died.
His fists grew even tougher, to the point where he could endure being stepped on by Potato.
Robin, too, broke free from his plateau.
He felt he was beginning to understand, at least a little, what it meant to build one’s own sword.
Thanks to the exploits of Robin and Sigbard, the barbarians were able to survive even while prepared to die.
“Sigbard, Robin.”
The barbarians who had shared life and death frequently came to visit the hut.
Facing Potato during daylight hours should have been exhausting, yet a smile spread across Sigbard’s face.
He was glad to have escaped a life of long-standing ostracism.
Robin watched this with satisfaction.
‘I think I could use the technique the Captain wrote about too…….’
He had read Harold’s journal thoroughly more than twenty times.
Now, what kind of person the one called the Mercenary King was felt vividly within his grasp.
He became confident that he could face Potato even if its fear was gone.
Even so, he did not finish it.
Because he had grown fond of the process of building his own sword.
Even with the same swordsmanship, depending on interpretation, it could branch into dozens of different movements.
Reading the journal, he saw how Harold had completed his sword.
‘Just a little more refinement.’
After three years passed, Sigbard became able to handle the rod as if it were his own.
The barbarian warriors now followed Sigbard down the cliff every single day.
“Robin, are you leaving?”
Though Sigbard’s Imperial language still retained a rough accent, there was no problem communicating.
He had acquired the language simply by talking with Robin.
“Yes. I think it’s okay to go down now.”
“I’ve grown attached to Potato, so it’s a shame.”
“I know. It’s too big to be a companion monster, but it’s time to let it go.”
At Robin’s joke, Sigbard burst into hearty laughter.
The veins on the back of the hand gripping the rod bulged out.
“In fact, that monster has another name.”
“What is it?”
Sigbard stopped opening his mouth and shook his head.
“Come to think of it, it’s not important to us.”
“What is it? You’re making me curious.”
“That thing is just Potato. Ugly, something you trip over, and chew and eat—Potato.”
“The tasty, nutritious Potato, you mean.”
“Hahaha! That’s right. Potato you steam, stir-fry, and roast. A name that suits that thing perfectly.”
Shrring.
Two swords were drawn from Robin’s waist.
The barbarian warriors behind him let out excited snorts of breath.
“One who has walked a life worse than a pebble on the street…….”
Robin recited calmly.
As if reenacting the miracle shown by the one-eyed mercenary captain, fighting spirit gathered on Robin’s sword.