VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 23

VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 23

Even the sharpest blade dulls when swung without pause.

After killing the Black Salamander, Lark decided to rest for a few days before traveling to the Dukedom of Mauko.

“Hahahaha! It’s a festival, you hear me? A festival!”

The Beast King knew how many lives had just been saved after Lark killed the adult Black Salamander.

If that thing had crossed over the Iron Mountains and reached Talverton Stronghold, it would have taken them thousands—maybe tens of thousands of lives—to subdue it.

Looking at it from this angle, the Beast King decisively opened the granaries, smokehouses, and alcohol cellars, distributing food to everyone.

“Stop working, you fools! Today until tomorrow, we eat and drink until we drop!”

“Woooaah!”

“Woooaah!”

The Beast King’s voice, infused with mana, reverberated throughout the stronghold. Upon hearing his announcement, all forms of work halted immediately, and even the construction of the new primary defense line of Talverton came to a pause.

The usually stern stronghold became almost unrecognizable that night.

Bonfires roared in every corner, casting shadows from the beastmen dancing around them. Warriors and non-combatants alike danced to a tune, and the laughter and chatter of the spectators combined into a cacophony of noise.

Drums thundered through the night, their rhythm echoing in the region previously ravaged by constant monster attacks.

The tables overflowed with so much food, particularly meat, that even the beastmen’s voracious appetites would have a hard time clearing them.

A month’s worth of supplies had been taken out of the storehouses for this two-day festival, after all.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen so much meat!”

“Gyahahaha!”

“His Majesty, the Beast King, is the best!”

“Long live the Beast King!”

“Long live the Alliance!”

The Beast King looked at his men with pride as they clawed their way into the roasted game sitting on massive platters, not caring about etiquette or manners.

The air was thick with laughter, shouts, and the constant rhythm of fists pounding against the wooden table in exultation.

And when a particular dish came out, the entire stronghold erupted into further celebration.

“Woooahh!”

“God damn!”

“Look at that!”

“Who’s the prey now, huh?!”

Like a party of heroes parading in their victory celebration, a group of cooks pushed several iron carts toward the center of the makeshift plaza.

On top of the carts was the steaming meat of a certain colossal monster.

The Black Salamander hunted by Lark had been skillfully butchered by the beastmen, stripped of its scales, spikes, and claws.

It was a well-known story that the Beast King had eaten the flesh of the Black Salamander he had hunted decades ago.

There were rumors that its meat, when cooked properly, was so tender it practically melted in the mouth, and its bones were so savory that one would suck on them for hours.

The Black Salamander, which had been terrorizing not only the Wasteland but also the United Grakas Alliance, had been turned into a smoked delicacy for the warriors of the stronghold.

Lark looked at the scene in amazement.

Judging by the drooling expressions of those around him, the Black Salamander seemed edible despite being a monster.

“Is that another one of the exemptions?” said Lark to the Beast King.

The Beast King, his arms crossed, nodded happily. “Of course! It’s edible! I still remember the first time I tasted Black Salamander meat. You see, my friend, after killing a legendary beast, it’s only natural to want to taste its flesh!”

That logic was probably applicable only to the beastmen race, but Lark didn’t comment on it further.

Honestly, he could understand their culture completely. He’d done the same thing before during his younger years as Evander Alaester.

As shameful as it sounded, he’d even eaten Dragon and Gryphon meat when he was still a member of the Black Mages.

The Lightning Dragon he’d cooked over the fire back then tasted disgusting, but the Elder Gryphon was edible enough for his palate.

Thinking of it now, he had really been adventurous back then—immature even.

It was only after failing in the Ritual of the Immortal that he started to mature as an individual.

After being handed a large platter filled with Black Salamander meat, Lark immediately took a bite.

He muttered, “Wow.”

The first bite revealed its true nature.

The texture was dense and sinewy, yet surprisingly tender once chewed, releasing juices that carried a rich, almost metallic savor, like venison steeped in iron and spice. A lingering heat spread across the tongue, not from the cook’s seasoning, but from the creature itself, as though the Salamander’s rage still clung to its flesh.

Although it didn’t melt on the tongue like the rumors said, its exquisite flavor was quite unforgettable.

It tasted disgusting at first, but after chewing it thoroughly, an indescribable flavor that made one want more spread across the mouth.

The Beast King and Lark sat near a bonfire, listening to the laughter and drums around them.

Nearby, a brawl between two beastmen suddenly started. But instead of mediating, the warriors at the scene cheered and bet on which side would win.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Anyone else want to bet?”

“Hahaha! This is fun!”

“I’ve bet all my money on you, wolf! Don’t you dare lose, you bastard!”

Like unrestrained savages, the drunken brawl proceeded with the illicit approval of the military officers nearby. Cheers erupted with each drop of blood spilled. As though on cue, flares shot upward and lit up the night sky.

Since the Beast King’s tent was situated on top of a massive mound, Lark and the White Lion could see the brawl from where they sat.

“How lively,” said Lark.

“Do you not hold festivals in your kingdom?” said the Beast King.

“We do,” said Lark. “But this… it’s a bit different from how humans do it.”

Compared to the festivals held in the Kingdom of Lukas—how should Lark describe this one?

“This festival,” said Lark. “It feels more primal. In a good way, of course.”

Noticing the hint of amazement in Lark’s voice, the Beast King smirked.

“You should see the ones held in Magna City. Compared to this, the festival after the end of the War of the Three Gods is far grander and longer.”

Lark had seen Magna City and the massive coliseum inside it, albeit a short time before. If he was not mistaken, Hatch and Van Bucky were the last winners of that competition.

“Maybe I should visit Magna City again during the competition.”

“You can come anytime. I’ll arrange special seats for you. Although we would probably have to cancel the next competition.”

Even without the Beast King telling him, Lark understood the reason behind it.

The War of the Three Gods was the biggest event in the entire United Grakas Alliance. Naturally, such an event would warrant a proportional number of resources.

With the war against the demons looming closer, they couldn’t afford to recklessly proceed with the competition.

“Gaorux,” said Lark.

“Hm?”

“Tell me what you know about the Dukedom.”

The White Lion swallowed the Black Salamander meat in his mouth. After chugging down his alcohol, he muttered, “The Dukedom of Mauko, huh?”

The Beast King paused, pondering the best description he could give about that nation.

“Well, if I were to describe them in a few words, they’re a bunch of unfortunate bastards.”

Lark didn’t expect the Beast King to describe the Dukedom in that manner.

Before coming here, he had ordered Mokuva to give him all of the information they had about the Dukedom of Mauko—from their leaders down to their nation’s current situation.

Of course, due to the distance, the information they had regarding the Dukedom was quite limited. That’s why Lark wanted to learn more about Mauko from the Beast King himself.

Surely, as someone who had interacted frequently with them through the Mauko Plains, the United Grakas Alliance would know more about them.

“Unfortunate?”

“That’s right. You told me before, didn’t you? That they’re demanding Ashenveld from us.”

The United Grakas Alliance called the disputed territory Ashenveld, while the Dukedom called it Mauko Plains.

“Yes.”

“Hmph! Well, there’s a reason why they’re so desperate. That plains isn’t even suitable for crops, but my friend—a starving mouth bites at anything.”

The Beast King then proceeded to tell Lark the things he knew regarding the Dukedom.

According to the Beast King, the Dukedom had concluded its succession war ten years ago. Although a decade may seem like a long time, the number of soldiers and skilled officials they had lost during the civil war had taken its toll on the nation.

Moreover, they had also been struck by the Black Famine, just like the other nations throughout the continent.

It was only after Lark Marcus revealed the method to cull the swarm that they managed to somewhat recover.

Although years had passed since the succession war and the Black Famine, the Dukedom still hadn’t recovered completely.

This was probably the reason why they never waged war past the Mauko Plains.

Although the Maukans believed that the plains were rightfully theirs, they were afraid of triggering a massive war with the United Grakas Alliance. All they could do right now was assert their right to the plains, treading on a thin line.

“Their army is shit,” said the Beast King. “As I’ve said before, I can probably invade their capital on my own and crush the head of their leader without suffering significant injuries. They should be grateful that Vaungur kept telling me not to invade their country despite their numerous attempts at taking over Ashenveld.”

Hearing this, Lark thought that the word ‘unfortunate’ was an apt description for the Dukedom.

They were a small and weak country that hadn’t fully recovered from their civil war a decade ago.

And as though that wasn’t enough, their adjacent nation was a hostile colossus capable of standing its ground even against the Empire.

It was no wonder they wanted Lark to mediate on their behalf in exchange for joining the Coalition.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” scoffed the Beast King. “They shamelessly made that demand despite knowing that it won’t really make much difference whether or not they join the Coalition.”

The Dukedom was already struggling on its own.

Surely, they wouldn’t be able to send much force to aid the Coalition during the war with the demons.

Lark knew this, too, but it wasn’t enough reason for him to exclude them.

He planned on keeping his promise to protect the members of the Coalition army, no matter how small or big their armies were.

“That’s not true,” said Lark. “Gaorux, every force will have its contribution during the upcoming war with the demons.”

“That will work only in an ideal world,” said the Beast King. “But real life is different. Believe me, you’ll just be wasting time trying to get those bastards to your side. If they also bordered the Wasteland, they would have been turned into ruins long ago. Even the Black Salamander you hunted is probably enough to destroy their entire nation.”

After that, Lark asked about the people currently leading the Dukedom. But since the Beast King didn’t know much regarding that topic, Lark ended up talking to his right-hand, Vaungur, instead.

Vaungur was very knowledgeable regarding the matter. From the current leader down to the relationship between him and his vassals, he divulged everything to Lark.

Of course, there was no way of knowing if this information was accurate, but it was still far more comprehensive than the one given to him by Mokuva.

“Vaungur,” said Lark.

“King Lark?” said Vaungur.

“I heard from Gaorux,” said Lark. “You’ve always asked him not to wage war with the Dukedom. May I know the reason for that?”

Vaungur fell silent for a while. His answer was completely unexpected, and it caught even Lark off guard.

“The Dukedom is weak, and it would be easy for us to crush them if we wanted to,” said Vaungur. “But…”

The former chief of the Lion Tribe stared at the flames of the bonfire. He then looked at the White Lion, who had been silently drinking alcohol from his mug.

“…I feel that if we attack them,” said Vaungur. “If we conquer them…”

Vaungur looked up to the night sky.

“…There will be no turning back. Once the Dukedom falls to our hands, it will no longer be possible for us to maintain friendly relations with the humans.”

Lark’s eyes widened.

They were really wise words he had never expected.

So, the reason why Vaungur was adamant about not waging full war with the Dukedom was because of this.

Indeed, if they stained their hands with the lives of hundreds of thousands of humans, they would be crossing that line.

Once the beastmen started slaughtering the humans, repairing the sour relationship with the other human nations—particularly the Kingdom of Lukas—would become nothing but a pipe dream.

The United Grakas Alliance may be strong, but in the end, they were the only beastman nation in the world.

Sure, there were some nations that accepted beastmen as their citizens, but the United Grakas Alliance was the only true safe haven for the beastmen.

If they slaughtered the Dukedom and conquered that small country, the blood on their hands would forever be engraved in history.

“Gaorux is lucky to have you by his side,” said Lark, smiling.

Vaungur embarrassedly rubbed his snout. Like whenever the Beast King felt uncomfortable with praise, he also faked a cough.

“Kuhum… of course.”

“Haaah? Lucky? You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lark,” spat the Beast King. “You’ve never heard Vaungur nag before. He’s even worse than my late mother. Believe me, there was even a time I felt my ears melt after he lectured me for hours.”

“Your Majesty, if you weren’t so reckless with your decisions all the time, there wouldn’t be any need for me to lecture you.”

“Hmph! I’m not reckless!”

“Hahaha!” Lark laughed. “He’s like Irene, huh?”

“Irene?” said the Beast King.

“My royal secretary. Now that I think of it, maybe she has delivered her child by now.”

“A child. Perhaps… is it your kid?”

Lark shook his head. “No, Gaorux. She’s my disciple’s wife.”

For some strange reason, the Beast King seemed disappointed.

After probing about it, Lark learned that the Beast King had been hoping the child was his. If it was a son, the Beast King would personally teach him martial arts.

“If I have a daughter, I would have asked her to be your wife,” said the Beast King. “But I don’t have any children, that’s why I should settle with just being the teacher once you have a son. Ahem… With your permission, of course.”

Lark smiled. “That would be an honor.”

The expression of the Beast King visibly brightened after receiving Lark’s approval.

“Then, that settles it! Once you have a son, I’ll personally teach him! I know you are stronger than me, Lark, but I dare say I wouldn’t lose to you in martial arts!”

Lark also believed the same.

Just like how Mikael Garios was superior to him in swordsmanship, the Beast King was also better than him in physical battle.

The battle senses honed by the White Lion throughout the decades would definitely be invaluable to anyone he taught.

“You should get married soon!” said the Beast King excitedly. “Surround yourself with lots of women and make lots of children! One, two, seven—no matter how many sons you have, I’ll willingly teach all of them! Hahaha!”

The Beast King was really enthusiastic about the idea. He even felt invigorated, as though he had suddenly found another purpose in life.

Vaungur palmed his face in frustration. “Your Majesty, please don’t make bold promises.”

“Bold promises? Are you nagging at me again, Vaungur?”

“No, that’s not it. You know it, don’t you? Any disciple taken by the Beast King would have the privilege to become the next ruler of the Alliance. Your Majesty… we can’t have a human as the Beast King.”

“So what?” said the Beast King. “Then I’ll just step down before taking Lark’s son as my disciple. Problem solved! Hahaha!”

Vaungur groaned.

The right-hand of the White Lion and Lark locked eyes with each other.

Lark gave a sympathetic smile, while Vaungur sighed in resignation. The Beast King was really hopeless.

The festival continued until the next day.

Finally, the time for Lark to leave came.

After adequately resting, Lark bade goodbye to the Beast King and Vaungur.

A significant portion of his mana replenished, he flew east, toward the Dukedom of Mauko.

His journey until he reached the nearest city, which also acted as the capital of the nation, was uneventful.

‘Gaorux is right.’

Upon reaching the capital of the Dukedom, Lark realized that the White Lion wasn’t lying when he said that he alone would be capable of infiltrating the capital of Mauko and killing its leader.

The walls of the capital of the Dukedom hardly reached fifteen meters in height, and the stone towers connected to a garrison near the entrance looked shabby—dilapidated even.

It was no wonder the Dukedom started encountering problems the moment the Rabbit Tribe had been replaced by a stronger beastman tribe in the Mauko Plains.

Composed of only two cities and three towns, it was amazing that the Dukedom hadn’t been conquered by its neighboring countries until now.

Although Vaungur had been preventing the United Grakas Alliance from invading it, there should be no reason for the Kingdom of Thornforge to leave such a tasty prey alone.

Did the Dukedom make a deal with Thornforge?

‘No matter. I’ll find out soon.’

First, Lark decided to meet with the Dukedom’s leader and hear his side of the story.

Of course, since the Beast King didn’t agree on conceding the plains to the Dukedom, that part of the negotiation was off the table already.