Volume 2 Chapter 49: Hunter, I'm Coming
"Hu~... A humanoid Seaborn?"
In the Iberian Inquisition, an elderly Inquisitor took a slow puff from his pipe, his deep blue eyes thoughtful as he gazed at the young woman standing before him.
"Irene, was it Edmund who recognized it?"
"Y-Yes!"
Facing the old Inquisitor, the young Inquisitor was visibly nervous. How could she not be? Standing before her was Saint Carmen—the living legend of Iberia.
"Dario, what do you think?"
The old Inquisitor turned to the middle-aged Inquisitor beside him, his disciple.
Wearing a mask and a wide-brimmed black hat, the middle-aged Inquisitor calmly wiped his longsword as he spoke in an even tone:
"Edmund wouldn't be mistaken. He is an outstanding Inquisitor—past, present, always."
If Edmund had truly abandoned his duties and honor as an Inquisitor, then the moment he saw the Seaborn, he should have run. Instead, he had stood in front of Irene.
"But we still don't know why that Seaborn came ashore. Irene, you said it was looking for something?"
"Yes."
Although their contact had been brief, Irene was certain she had not been mistaken.
"It has already left Iberia. From yesterday evening until now, even the fastest courier couldn't have covered such a distance in less than half a day..."
The old Inquisitor fell silent.
Iberia had more advanced communication systems than any other nation on the continent, and he had just received word—someone had seen a red silhouette drifting past Iberia's border.
"It has already left Iberia."
If it were still within Iberian territory, the Inquisition would track it down no matter where it fled.
But now that it had crossed the border… the Inquisition could no longer extend its reach into another nation's lands.
"That doesn't mean we should have allowed it to roam freely within our borders."
The middle-aged Inquisitor removed his mask, secured his scripture and sigil, and placed his hand on the gunblade at his waist.
"At the very least, we need to know what it was searching for."
If he could not enter as an Inquisitor, then he would take on another identity—traveler, diplomat, missionary. There were many ways to cross borders.
"You won't be able to bring many people with you."
"I only need myself."
It was not arrogance, merely a statement of fact.
With a hand cannon capable of leveling a street and a scripture box containing explosives strong enough to destroy an entire district, he was confident that, one-on-one, he could eliminate any foe on this land.
Even at the cost of his life.
The old Inquisitor saw the resolve in his disciple's eyes.
Over the years, he had witnessed too many comrades, too many young Inquisitors, sacrifice themselves—laying down their blood to form Iberia's final line of defense.
Once, he had not stopped his old friends from giving their lives for Iberia.
Now, he would not stop his disciple from marching toward death.
Because he had no choice.
"If this is your judgment, I will respect it."
The deep blue in his eyes sharpened like a blade.
"But remember—no matter what you face, if you retreat to Iberian soil, I, the Inquisition, and the Penal Battalion will be behind you."
Irene could not interject in their conversation.
The old Inquisitor was Iberia's last Saint.
The middle-aged Inquisitor was one of Iberia's few remaining High Inquisitors.
And she…
She was merely a newly knighted Inquisitor.
She had no place to interrupt.
Yet, to Irene's surprise, despite how important this mission seemed, the old Inquisitor still mentioned her.
"Dario, take Irene with you. Let her learn something along the way."
"Lord Carmen!"
"Take her."
"...Understood. If that is your order."
The old Inquisitor could see the reluctance on the middle-aged Inquisitor's face. After all, no one wanted to be burdened with an inexperienced follower during a mission, even if that follower was their own disciple.
But this was his last bit of selfishness.
If his disciple was with him, as a teacher, he would always be a little more cautious.
The number of people he still recognized in this land was growing fewer and fewer.
The Seaborn were coming.
But why was it that only Iberia had to face them?
Perhaps...
They simply did not trust the nations around them.
If the neighboring countries learned of Iberia's weakness, they would not wait for the Seaborn to land. They would strike first.
Tearing Iberia apart.
He could not take that risk.
Iberia could not take that risk.
<+>
Prion Town.
A small town in the eastern region of Minos, near the trade capital Corinna, yet shockingly poor and underdeveloped.
There was only a single inn in the entire town—a four-story building standing in the very center, built atop a small vehicle.
Many settlements were constructed on old mobile city platforms so they could evacuate when catastrophes struck. Even if some platforms had aged beyond function, a temporary tow truck could always be hired.
But Prion Town was different.
It was built on small, outdated personal vehicles, giving the impression of stepping centuries back in time—back to when Originium engines were first invented.
Here, Garde ran into a problem.
He had no money!
More precisely, he had no usable currency for transactions.
When he left Trimounts, he had rushed off with only a Columbian bank card—not even a single Columbian Gold certificates.
A poor town like this had no international banks, not even a Minosian Federal Bank branch. The people here only used Minoan stater.
No money meant no inn, no clothes, and most importantly, no food.
As Garde hesitated, debating whether to head for a larger city, a voice called out from behind him.
"Sir, are you having trouble standing here like that?"
Garde turned around.
A purple-haired Forte girl stood behind him, carrying a large sword on her back and holding a small parcel in her hands.
"You're… from that caravan…"
"I was a freelance mercenary hired by the Tirna Trading Group. You can call me Sideroca… though, that's in the past now. I was just dismissed by the caravan leader."
"...I'm sorry."
Garde realized that it was his interference that had caused Sideroca to lose her job. He hadn't expected that the caravan leader would fire her this quickly, as soon as they reached a town.
"This isn't your fault, sir."
The Forte girl shook her head, forcing a weak smile.
"If not for you, the caravan would have lost far more cargo, and we could have suffered casualties fighting that bandit group."
Garde could tell—Sideroca genuinely did not blame him.
"But unfortunately, not everyone shares your perspective."
Garde spread his hands and looked around.
No one could consider every possibility, and he was no exception.
The caravan wasn't just made up of freelance mercenaries; there were also small mercenary groups. Once they arrived in town, the caravan leader wasted no time dismissing a group of mercenaries like Sideroca—those without any real backing.
Of course, they didn't receive their full payment—only a small portion. If they couldn't find new work soon, they would have to pay out of their own pockets just to hitch a ride back to the city.
Now, surrounding Garde and Sideroca were seven or eight mercenaries—all fired because of him.
Noticing the hostility on their faces, Sideroca quickly stepped forward.
"Everyone, this has nothing to do with this gentleman. If it weren't for him, we—"
"Who cares about that?!"
A Reproba mercenary interrupted impatiently, his expression dark.
"If it weren't for this guy, we wouldn't have been fired! So what if the caravan lost some cargo? That's not our problem—we did our job!"
"Step aside, girl," a Forte mercenary, the same species as Sideroca, said in a low voice.
They were all down on their luck together.
Right now, they just needed someone to take out their frustrations on. The caravan leader was off-limits, but a lone Adakrys?
So what if he was a little bigger?
They had eight people.
"No way!"
Gritting her teeth, Sideroca stood in front of Garde.
"We can't repay kindness with betrayal!"
As she spoke, she glanced at the Seaborn child perched on Garde's shoulder.
"A kid, too! Are you seriously going to attack someone with a child?!"
A child?
Garde followed her gaze to his shoulder.
Even though this Seaborn girl had just eaten a whole fish moments ago, she was already hungry again—now gnawing at his clothes.
Tapping her lightly on the head, Garde watched as the little one tried to bite his finger in response—only to nearly chip her own tooth.
"Hmph! We don't care about any child!" the Reproba mercenary scoffed.
"If he can cough up enough money to make up for our losses, we'll let him go. Otherwise, we're gonna teach him a lesson—show him what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong!"
The Reproba mercenary swung his fist, but just as he did, he saw something—
Garde raised his own hand.
A hand just like his.
Only three times bigger.
"A lesson?"
A voice suddenly echoed right beside his ear.
"Looks like you're still too young."
Before he even realized it, Garde was right in front of him.
Raising his massive fan-like hand, Garde slapped the mercenary across the face.
"Sticking your nose in someone else's business—"
Garde grabbed the Reproba mercenary by the face, lifting him like a helpless chick.
"—only works if you're strong enough."
With a casual flick, Garde threw the mercenary ten meters away—sending him rolling several times before finally stopping.
He was a reasonable man.
Yes, because of him, these mercenaries lost their jobs.
That was on him.
But he also saved them from the bandit group.
That made them even.
Besides—if the bandits had successfully robbed the caravan of all its cargo—
Did they really think they were still getting paid?
Garde hadn't hit them too hard—they wanted to teach him a lesson, so he simply returned the favor.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In less than five seconds, the mercenaries were all sprawled on the ground.
Sideroca hadn't even seen Garde's movements.
She had heard that the world was vast and that there were individuals capable of defeating an entire mercenary group alone, but this was the first time she had ever witnessed it herself.
However, she quickly noticed that instead of leaving, Garde crouched down and started rummaging through the fallen mercenaries' pockets.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
"Cleaning up the battlefield."
Garde didn't even look up as he replied.
"Oh, and don't call me 'sir.' My name is Garde—just call me that."
He was broke, but fortunately, these mercenaries had come at just the right time to solve his urgent problem.
Most mercenaries were dirt poor, blowing through their wages as soon as they got them, but luckily, these guys had just been paid and hadn't had a chance to spend it yet.
After taking half of their money, Garde gathered his haul—a total of 10,000 Minoan staters.
"Here."
The first thing he did was take half of that amount and place it in Sideroca's hands.
Sideroca froze for a second before quickly shaking her head.
"Sir, what are you doing? I already told you—you helped us! If anyone should be paying, it should be me!"
She reached into her pocket, ready to hand over the few Minoan staters she had left.
"Miss Sideroca, you misunderstood."
Garde shook his head and refused to take her money.
"This is payment for a job. You don't have a job right now, do you? In that case—would you be willing to work for me temporarily?"
Sideroca looked at him, confused.
"Sir, what exactly do you want me to do?"
"I want you to—"
"Mate"
"—Shut up!"
Garde smacked the Seaborn girl on his shoulder with a flick to the forehead, then lifted her up and held her out toward Sideroca.
"I'll be staying in this town for a while. During that time, if I'm not around, I want you to take care of this little thing."
Sideroca looked at the Seaborn child, then back at Garde.
Without hesitation, she nodded firmly.
"I understand!"
She spoke with determination.
"I'll take good care of this child!"
"Uh, actually, you don't have to put in that much effort. Just treat her like a pet—as long as she doesn't starve, it's fine."
"???"
Garde didn't explain further.
If Sideroca wasn't at least somewhat capable, he wouldn't have entrusted the Seaborn girl to her in the first place.
Don't be fooled by how harmless the Seaborn girl seemed when she was by his side—when she was with others, it was a different story. If someone wasn't careful, they might get eaten down to the bone.
"Forget it, I'll keep her with me for now. She may look like this, but she's actually pretty fierce."
Garde was just being cautious—he had a feeling things wouldn't stay peaceful for long.
After eating and drinking his fill, he bought a random set of clothes for the Seaborn girl and rented two rooms at the town's central inn.
He waited all day, but the Seaborn's god never appeared. Garde wasn't one to sit around doing nothing, so after reading for a bit, he lay down on the bed.
He had to say—the quality of beds in small inns was terrible. He seriously suspected that if he rolled over, the whole thing would collapse.
Closing his eyes, he thought about how he should deal with the Seaborn's god.
Even now, he didn't have a clear plan.
If the god really showed up, what could he do to send it back to the sea? And if it ended up staying with him—would that be dangerous?
As he pondered, he suddenly felt something squirming on top of him.
Reaching out, he grabbed the Seaborn girl and tossed her back onto the other bed.
"Go to sleep!"
Garde closed his eyes again.
After a while, he felt her climbing back onto him.
"Get back!"
He reached out, intending to throw her off again.
But this time, his hand didn't land.
Instead—it pressed against something soft.
"You really do like this kind of thing, don't you?"
A cold voice whispered in his ear.
The voice was so familiar—so familiar that, for a moment, Garde thought it was Skadi who had entered his room.
But how was that possible?
That girl was Laurentina's companion, an Abyssal Hunter, still out at sea, fighting against the Seaborn.
There was no way she would come looking for him.
Which meant—there was no doubt about who this was.
Dressed in a red dress, with long, beautiful silver-white hair, a white-haired, red-eyed girl sat on top of him, looking at him with a cold expression.
Their combined weight was too much.
The old bed finally couldn't take it anymore—
Crack
It collapsed.
"Hunter—I've come."
A gentle, motherly smile appeared on the girl's face as she sat on Garde, looking down at him.
Her voice was cold, yet somehow tender.
"Please mate with me."
<+>
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