Chapter 54: Dark Magic "Grim Reaper" and the Summoner's Badge
The Stepstones, Cutthroat Isle, Dock Market
"Lemon, you and Hank check that warehouse ahead. It's been abandoned for years, but someone could be hiding inside."
At this moment, the Dock Market was filled with the figures of the Chainbreakers' warriors. Because of the assassination attempt on Jon, every man among them was simmering with restrained fury.
Lemon and Hank were no different. Though their squad had been assigned to a relatively remote section of the market, the ten of them carried out their search with diligence.
Beneath the flickering glow of fish-oil torches, Lemon and Hank moved one after the other down a narrow path. The flames wavered in the sea wind, so Lemon angled his torch to shield it.
Both boys looked about fifteen or sixteen. They had come from Gulltown, leaving home because there were too many mouths to feed and too little bread to share.
"Hey, Hank! Do you think those shadowbinders Lord Jon mentioned really exist?"
Compared with the steady and earnest Hank, Lemon was restless and talkative—the "little trumpet" of their squad, always chattering.
Carrying his torch, Hank scratched his head awkwardly.
"Sorry, Lemon. I've never heard of shadowbinders before. But if something like that could wound Lord Jon, it must be powerful. We'd best stay careful."
"Lord Jon can summon dragons," Lemon scoffed. "I don't think there's much in this world that could defeat him."
In Lemon's eyes, Jon was near invincible. On the surface at least, he hadn't seemed gravely injured.
"Well… not necessarily," Hank replied honestly. "I heard the septons at the Great Sept of the Seven in Gulltown say that several dragons of House Targaryen were slain by common folk during the Storming of the Dragonpit. They said it was the judgment of the Seven, that the gods allowed mortals to strike down dragons…"
Hank spoke plainly, repeating what he had been taught by the Faith of the Seven.
"Bah… septons lie," Lemon muttered. "My father told me dragons are the mightiest creatures alive. The ones you're talking about died because they were chained. Lord Jon isn't some chained beast. And don't forget—he knows magic."
Unlike Hank, Lemon held little love for the Faith. One of his sisters had been deceived by a septon and, after losing her maidenhood, had been forced to join the Silent Sisters, spending her days among the dead.
The two continued talking as they walked, eventually arriving at the abandoned warehouse near the coast.
It had once stored whale oil for pirates. Years ago, a careless guard had fallen asleep and sparked a fire that consumed the entire structure, killing two pirates in the blaze.
Since then, the building had remained deserted.
Whale oil was rare in these southern waters. It came mainly from Ibbenese whalers sailing down from the Shivering Sea, and they appeared only once every few years.
Located at the fringe of the Dock Market and near the expanding harbor works, the warehouse seldom saw visitors.
Most of Lemon's squad had been searching among the foreign laborers near the port construction site, which was why Lemon and Hank had drawn this lonely assignment.
The warehouse stood blackened and decayed. Oily residue still gleamed faintly on its scorched walls.
Sea winds had gnawed at the structure for years. Gray-white bricks showed through cracked mortar. The wooden door, riddled with insects, hung half open and creaked mournfully.
The already poor windows were shattered. Some panes had melted and warped in the old blaze, while jagged shards glinted like teeth in the torchlight.
When gusts of sea wind blew through, the broken frames howled like ghosts from ancient tales.
As Lemon and Hank stepped inside, the gloom seemed to swallow them whole.
The air was thick with mold and damp rot, mixed with the scent of rusted metal and charred timber.
Broken shelves and debris lay strewn about like a labyrinth. Ash and dust coated the floor.
"Eh!?"
Scanning opposite sides of the interior, Lemon noticed something unusual. He nudged Hank and pointed.
Because no one had entered in years, the dust lay undisturbed—save for a set of strange footprints.
Rats sometimes scurried through such ruins…
…but these prints were too deliberate.
A chill crept down Lemon's spine. He felt as though something unspeakable watched them from the darkness.
Hank followed Lemon's gaze. He raised his free hand and signed silently.
They were scouts trained under Garo, familiar with silent signals.
"Danger?" Hank gestured.
"Retreat," Lemon signaled back, then pointed to a nearby support pillar.
The pillar beside Lemon stood barely a meter away. Hank's was three meters distant.
Years of neglect had left the beams unstable.
A spark of inspiration flashed through Lemon's mind. If they toppled the beams, they could collapse the structure—escaping and sounding the alarm at once.
"One, two, three—break!"
They shouted together and smashed loose timbers against the weakened supports.
Rumble… rumble…
At first, splinters and crossbeams fell. Then larger sections crashed down.
Without hesitation, the two boys bolted for the exit.
Crash!
The warehouse collapsed in a cloud of dust.
As Lemon fled, he glanced back.
That glance nearly froze his heart.
Through the haze, a pair of blood-red eyes stared at them.
The creature's lower body resembled a monstrous octopus. Splinters of wood jutted from its flesh like thorns. Its upper body was vaguely feminine, though twisted and inhuman.
Hair the color of fresh blood streamed behind it. Crimson eyes gleamed like polished garnets. Scaled plates covered its torso.
"Monster—!"
Hiss… hiss…
Lemon's terrified shout gave away their position.
The creature shrieked and lunged forward.
It moved like an octopus, thrusting its forward limbs ahead, dragging the rest of its bulk after.
Back at the Dock Market, Jon felt a sudden disturbance and turned toward the warehouse district.
"Descended Creature: Twisted Devotee, Level 10. Affiliated with anomalous lifeforms code-named 'Ancient Outer Gods.' Carrying items: Grim Reaper, Summoner's Badge."
(Wait… what is happening lately? Did the system start handing out rewards? I just mastered Moonlight, and now it's sending me Grim Reaper? Hah… System, I could almost love you.)
Once he fully understood the system's message, Jon's heart leapt with excitement.
Though the enemy was Level 10, Jon commanded a large force of soldiers and several system-class warriors. He also possessed the spells Moonlight and Blizzard.
He was confident the creature could be destroyed.
What thrilled him most, however, was the Summoner's Badge.
In the game of his former life, the Summoner had been a legendary class.
Though he did not yet know how the system would translate that class into this world, Jon's thoughts were consumed by the promise of those two items.
Everything else could wait.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics