Volume 4 Chapter 23 To Cyclops Island
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After feeding Rou, Kian had him wash the grime from his body in the bathhouse. Once he was finished, Kian assigned him a modest room on the first floor—both a bed and a place to rest while the paperwork dragged on.
Rou explained that during the raid on their ship, a comrade named Leprobus had pushed him off in a small boat. It began to flood midway, forcing him to swim for his life until the sea currents carried him to an uninhabited island in Crete’s domain.
”After that, I was rescued by one of Lord Balinars’ patrol ships,” Rou said, finishing his tale while Kian fussed over the corners of the thin quilt.
Kian glanced back at the Eastern youth. “Did the others manage to escape?”
”I don’t know. Leprobus drew his sword and returned to the deck to protect the others. There were no boats left. It must have been nearly impossible to flee. Still, he has giant blood in him—he might have forced his way to another island.”
”Giant blood?” Kian asked.
Rou nodded. “Yes. A throwback. His spirit blood is strong. His hair burns red—unlike any human’s. You would notice him instantly.”
Kian hummed, unimpressed. “Which means if he survived, word of it would travel quickly. And if even he couldn’t reach land, then the others are likely lost. You’re alive only because you managed to steer close enough to that deserted island.”
Rou bowed his head. “That’s correct.”
”Then rest. I’ll wake you come nightfall. Eat, wash again, and sleep. Your gatekeeping duties begin at eight tomorrow morning.”
”Thank you, Chairman Kian.”
Kian pointed at the freshly made bed. “Enjoy.” He slipped out of the room without another word.
* * *
‘About preparations for Cyclops Island—should we take the small boat? If we use Mrs. Camilla’s flying golem, pirates might notice us.’
(We’ll ride the flying beasts partway, then take the boat. We’ll use the one Captain Skeleton gave us. Ms. Aliona left it for us.)
‘Very well.’
Kian stepped out onto the private beach. Two pterosaur-shaped golems—named Chin-chin and Man-man—rested in the sand, wings folded, beaks pointed at the sea.
T/N: pun on chin-chin—Japanese childish slang for penis.
He caught himself wondering if their ancient, living counterparts had once stood like that on some long-forgotten shore, scanning for prey.
‘That beak of theirs had a purpose.’
”I’ll bring blast bombs and poisons to Cyclops Island,” Kian said aloud. “If we fight pirates, we’ll need every weapon we can muster.”
‘Do we have the materials?’
”I have the poison bases. The bomb ingredients are in the villa’s underground storehouse. I doubt this place was Ms. Priscilla’s to begin with. More likely Guy or Renaud stocked it with smithing supplies.”
The fact that the Crete government had left the villa untouched for so long only strengthened the likelihood of Renaud’s ownership. A retired man, hidden away, conveniently overlooked.
‘Are you sure it’s all right to use?’
”No doubt. If Priscilla minded, she would have said so. It’s no different than the water jugs left in the guest rooms.”
Talia fell silent, clearly conflicted. Kian ignored her muttered, “You really do have a convenient nature,” and set about hauling barrels of ingredients up from the cellar.
Talia directed a sparrow-shaped golem to collect herbs from the hills for the poisons.
In four months Kian had absorbed Rufna’s lessons in toxins and explosives. Though the knowledge had originated with Umar, knowledge was knowledge. If it could be used, he would make it his own.
The afternoon passed undisturbed by visitors. Immersed in work, he forged twenty barrels of blast bombs, a set of poisoned arrows, and throwing knives steeped in hallucinogenic fumes—just in time for Rou to emerge.
* * *
Rou stepped onto the beach, freshly shaved, dressed in pristine white Azrael-style clothing. The western sun had already left the sand in shadow.
Kian, with his vampiric senses, checked the man’s pulse. No irregular tremors. His worry was needless.
”Here,” Kian said, tossing him a small vial from the Wraith’s pack. “Painkillers, hemostatic ointment—use them if you need.”
”My thanks.” Rou’s narrow eyes slid to the neat line of barrels, blades, and poisoned weapons stacked by Kian’s side.
”As soon as the client arrives, I leave,” Kian said.
Rou asked quietly, “Will you return the day after tomorrow?”
”That’s the hope. No guarantees.”
”Understood.”
Kian flipped him a key. “Use the food as you like, but don’t touch the large crate in the cellar.” Inside lay frozen Minotaur meat and its severed head, preserved like grim trophies.
That evening they dined together under the violet sky. Rou devoured the seafood, while Kian gnawed absentmindedly on strips of Minotaur jerky. The firelight flickered, the sea whispered, and the scent of charred fish and salt clung to the night.
The guildmaster’s fine wine moistened their throats, and with that, the grand barbecue came to an end.
”Sorry, but could you handle the dishes and put out the fire?” Kian said.
He had felt a ripple—someone teleporting at the docks—right as he sipped. Slinging a backpack and pouch packed in advance with his adventuring gear, he rose.
”Star’s Song,” Talia whispered. Magic surged through her hands as she activated Chin-chin, the slumbering drake golem by the waves. A rope tied around its neck led to a small boat drawn up on the sand. When Chin-chin lurched forward, the boat skimmed with it into the sea.
”Well then, I’m off. Hold the fort for me,” Kian said.
”Safe travels, Chairman Kian,” Rou replied. He bowed, clasping one fist in the style of a warrior monk.
Though the gesture unsettled him, Kian’s heart swelled. Relief—he had escaped the dreary role of watchman—and exhilaration both surged within him. The familiar night sea breeze stung his face, but tonight it felt like a herald: an omen of adventure.
He found the detour to the main gate tiresome. Instead, he bounded like a boulder flung from a catapult, vaulting up the black rocky ridge that split the private beach.
* * *
He sprinted toward the fishing village, when a flash of azure lightning split the opposite sky. He glanced up—it was a clear night, stars glittering—and in that same instant a deafening crack announced Guria’s arrival. She slammed into the sand before him, scattering grit in a spray, halting like a sled digging to a stop on ice.
Kian’s reflexes brought forth a Wall. Without it, he’d have been buried in sand. He silently thanked Sarah, who four months earlier had made him confront his own lack of strength. With steadier breath, he walked toward the young woman.
Behind her, the beach bore gouges and charred streaks like dragon’s claws.
”Hi, Kian! Right on time!” she called.
”I don’t recall setting an exact time,” he said.
”You said, ‘See you at night,’ didn’t you? Well—it’s night!” she countered.
She wore the same white dress as when they had first met, calves strapped in sandals bound with cords, a rattling pack strapped across her back.
”What’s in the pack?” Kian asked.
”Chains! Ropes! Even shackles!”
She swung it down, spilling out black leather restraints that looked more suited to forbidden play than adventuring.
”Took them straight from Mother’s room,” she grinned.
”She has… unusual hobbies, I take it.”
”Yeah. I doubt the world would understand her tastes. Anyway—help me put the cuffs on? I can’t manage alone.”
”Best not right now,” Kian said, holding up both hands. “If we end up tossed into the sea, you’d sink straight down. Look—the night ocean is pitch black. You wouldn’t even know which way was up.”
”You’re right. Hmm, and the boat… Wait—whoa! Look at that! A giant bird? A golem!?”
She leapt theatrically, staring at the massive drake hovering beside the crescent moon.
”That’s Chin-chin. In the eastern script it’s written as ‘珍珍’—pun intended.”
T/N: pun on chin—slang for “penis.” Joke about size.
”Wow, so big!”
”A big Chin-chin indeed. That’s our ride to Cyclops Island—the beginning of a skybound journey.”
”I thought we’d be rowing! Kian, you’re amazing!”
”Credit goes to my engineers. Chin-chin, descend!”
The winged golem lowered, the little boat scraping ashore.
Kian commanded, “Bow your head!” but when Talia halted the golem instead, he corrected himself sheepishly: “Please let us board.”
They mounted the drake’s back, setting off from Grass Island. Chin-chin flew low, towing the boat. Safe from spray, yet still within reach of lurking leviathans.
Bathed in moonlight, Kian’s senses sharpened. He felt sure he could sense an enemy’s approach as keenly as Isthbaran himself.
At first, Guria thrilled at Chin-chin’s speed, but soon she folded beside him, gripping the rail and staring straight ahead at the stars.
Her hair gleamed golden-brown, heavy and lustrous where Aliona’s had been light. From his seat, Kian studied her profile: bold brows, eyes like blades, a proud nose, pale lips, all cut with striking precision.
The white dress clung to her generous curves, waist and hips taut with youthful strength. The smooth calves beneath her skirt shone faintly with a healthy sheen—not dirt, but the heat of life itself.
Unlike Aliona’s quiet grace, Guria radiated a raw, vivid youth.
”Whoever marries you will be lucky indeed,” Kian said.
She lowered her gaze, a faint smile tugging her lips. “You think so? I doubt it.”
”When will you marry?”
”Hmm… soon after New Year. I can’t say the exact day.”
”Leaving the country?”
”No. Crete. More like he’s being summoned here. Why?”
”You once said you had to reclaim the Blade of Dust before you lost the ability to walk—or even your life. I wondered if that was your way of saying you’d be leaving for good.”
She laughed. “Hardly. I’ll never leave Crete.”
”But you studied abroad, didn’t you? At Azrael’s school?” he asked.
”Oh… right. That’s true. But once I marry, I won’t be a student anymore.”
”I see.”
”I really did go there. Didn’t think it’d be my last trip abroad, though.”
”I won’t pry. An adventurer doesn’t probe their client,” Kian said.
”Exactly—don’t snoop.”
Guria echoed her tone in mocking imitation, flashing teeth so white they gleamed even in the murk.
”Sound familiar? At first I thought you were the flashy type, Kian, but maybe you’re more of a craftsman?” she teased.
”When I fix on something, I can’t see anything else,” he admitted.
”And you came so well-prepared today.” She craned her neck toward the pack strapped across his back.
The motion twisted her waist, making the white dress cling and reveal the shape beneath. Her figure was lean like a hunting cat, not soft like Aliona or Priscilla’s, but the curve of her hips and the weight of her chest left no impression of frailty. She was, simply put, a woman at her prime.
”Do you have a plan once we arrive?” she asked.
Kian’s eyes flicked sidelong, tracing the line of her breasts and hips. Desire pressed at him, but his mind stayed sharp, as lucid as the moonlight spilling across the sea.
”No plan. Just physical enhancement and a sprint. The real question is whether you can keep up. You look heavy-footed. And this Chin-chin won’t serve for travel. Faster than a salamander, sure, but useless once we land.”
”Daylight’s too dangerous. At night, in uninhabited stretches, there’s less risk of anyone spotting a flying shadow—but it’s never safe,” he said.
”Then I’ll buy you a horse. My treat.”
”Let me show off my speed first. Then you can decide.”
He remembered the dash to the Great Forest with Sarah, Serena, Rean, and Ninini—keeping pace with horses easily. Now, after absorbing Talia’s blood, his strength surged even higher. He carried dried minotaur meat and bread for fuel; this was the perfect chance to consume it all.
”There—see it? I think that’s Cyclops Island!” Guria cried, pointing.
They had flown two hours southwest from Grass Island when land suddenly surfaced along the horizon.
The island loomed closer, thanks to Chin-chin’s breathtaking speed—outpacing even Winged Cain. Lights blazed around the perimeter, so many they glittered from over ten kilometers away. Bonfires, perhaps. But with the cranes jutting high and the fortresslike impression, it resembled a military harbor more than a fishing port.
Patrol boats prowled the waters ahead. Guria frowned.
”North is Crete. Whoever controls this island takes guarding seriously.”
(Talia, veil us in mist.)
’Understood.‘
Talia drank greedily from the Spiritual Vein. Guria’s eyes narrowed at Kian’s right arm but she said nothing, shouldering her own pack of restraints.
Warm air rushed across the sea; beneath them, cold currents welled up. Fog blossomed, thick and heavy, wrapping them in a drifting shroud.
The island, now four or five kilometers away, glowed faintly beyond the veil. Kian’s vampiric senses caught the confusion aboard the patrol ships—hurried steps, frantic voices, men running across decks.
”…Kian, forgive me if I’m wrong, but… are you the hero of Ramsey?” Guria whispered.
”Who? The hero of Ramsey—Lord Oswald?”
”No, no! Forget I asked. Tonight is a secret field trip. Once our list is done, we’re strangers again.”
”That suits me,” Kian said. “You’re quick to grasp things. I like that.”
The fog tore apart as Chin-chin banked hard right, bypassing the densest knot of patrol craft. The map Guria had conjured with water magic lingered in his mind—rough, inaccurate, but enough to steer toward a dark stretch of rocks where fewer fires burned.
They dropped lower, then abandoned their mount for a small boat, rowing the last distance. By the time they tied off at a rocky outcrop and lulled Chin-chin to rest, it was past two in the morning.
Talia’s mist still clung to the land. The initial surge of magic had been vast, but the drifting fog now masked them like a natural phenomenon. Any trace of magical power was hidden.
Kian withheld his own energy, slipping into concealment. Guria, boasting of her talent, matched his restraint.
”As a child, I often slipped past tutors to sneak outside,” she whispered as they pushed into brush.
”That’s how I learned hiding came naturally.”
”Quiet.”
Kian covered her mouth, drawing her close into the shadow of a palm. Beyond the grass and windbreak trees, a road stretched toward the fortress they had glimpsed from the air. And from that direction came a sound.
A strange rhythm.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
Like cattle pawing the earth—yet lighter, sharper, too many legs.
”Mmm—mmph!” Guria tried to speak, but Kian hushed her.
”They’re here,” he breathed.
Her resistance stilled. She heard it too now.
The distance to their pursuers was about a hundred meters.
Because it was night, the sound of footsteps carried sharply toward them.
(Now, what could those mysterious footsteps belong to—)
Guria shrank against him, while Kian leaned out from behind the palm tree’s shadow. With his vampire’s dark-vision, he caught sight of a shifting silhouette approaching from the left.
”――!”
The source of the noise wasn’t human at all—it was an insect.
But not a mere insect.
It was a monstrous creature, like an oversized pill bug with countless legs and a hardened carapace.
Strapped to its back was a saddle, and hitched behind that, a wagon. A war chariot. Not drawn by horses or oxen, but dragged forward by the beast itself.
The chariot’s roof and walls had been stripped away, leaving the crew’s bodies exposed. Three men rode it, two holding magic-stone lanterns that cast beams across the grassy roadside.
In the thick fog, their light sources formed eerie, perfect circles.
If one stood in front of it, the monster’s face would have seemed to charge directly at them.
”Azrael’s war-beast,” Guria whispered from within Kian’s arms. Her hair smelled intoxicating. The same sweet-and-sour fragrance he sometimes caught when holding Natra lingered behind her ear and along her neck. It was a battle not to lose himself entirely.
”Azrael’s? Soldiers from the Malc Family?” Kian asked, still watching the fading footsteps.
”I don’t know. Pirates are often just armed merchants. Wealthy traders could easily split the cost to buy a beast from Lord Jibril…”
”Looks like they’ve passed.”
”Yes. …Kian? Pardon me, but could you let me go?”
”Oh.”
Kian looked down at Guria’s prim, sulking expression and chuckled.
”My mistake.”
”Minus ten points.”
”And what kind of score is that supposed to be?” he asked.
”Mmm. I’ll tell you once the list is full.”
With that, she slipped out of his grasp.
’Kian, be careful. These aren’t ordinary pirates. Their magic feels… delicious.‘
Talia’s voice curled through his mind. Delicious—to her, meaning rich, meaty prey. She would never waste such praise on a mere merchant’s hired guards.
(Send out the birds.)
’Understood.‘
Five tiny bird-shaped golems burst from Kian’s pack. Each one housed a magic stone. They had the same function Aliona once used—to cast light—but this time, they flew above him unlit, shadows in the mist.
”What about shackles? Should we put them on?” Guria asked.
”We’ll save the slave act for when we’re cornered. For now, speed matters most. Straight to the Gorgon Temple.”
”Got it.”
Blue lightning wrapped around her body, crackling. She crouched low, then in a single bound floated gracefully over the chariot’s path.
(Unusual technique… her magic control is smooth, her movements refined. Far superior to Balinars’ men.)
Whether that spoke to the caliber of the Lightning Knights, or simply Guria herself, it didn’t matter now.
Kian launched himself from the shadows without using his own Leap or Physical Enhancement, slipping beside her like mist.
”Uweh!?”
”What’s wrong? Don’t tell me—that was your top speed?” he teased.
Her face darkened in a pout.
”Impertinent, aren’t you? No one’s dared say that to me in ages.”
”If I go all out, I’m probably faster and stronger by far. I’ll match your pace. You run as you wish.”
”S-sure…”
Her lip twitched, then blue sparks flared across her skin again. Without so much as a word, she sprang forward over the rough terrain.
”Huh. Slower than Linca,” Kian murmured.
’Of course. Kian, what exactly do you think of Linca?‘
”Hmm…”
Linca was skilled and powerful, but when it came to speed, she lost to Natra, Sarah, Isthbaran—or Kian himself. Against him or Isthbaran, the difference was overwhelming. Yet her blows carried crushing weight; even Natra with her magic blade struggled to keep up. In pure combat, Linca was probably stronger than Sarah.
Kian loosened the limits on his vampiric body and invoked the warrior monk’s technique, Domain.
An advanced form of Leap, it allowed the rewriting of physical laws within his reach. In one instant he overtook Guria, then dismissed the Domain before the interference from her magic could destabilize it, switching back to a simple Leap.
Her lips formed the words—”Whaaat? So fast! Kian, what are you!?”—though he only caught the shape, not the sound.
The Gorgon Temple lay just over twenty kilometers from the rocky shore where they had washed up. Treacherous cliffs awaited further inland, Guria had warned, but until then, they could sprint flat out.
Kian studied Guria’s expression closely, ensuring she wasn’t straining herself, while he kept perfectly abreast, only inches away.
How she took that, he couldn’t tell. But when they stopped at the foot of the Gorgon mountains, Guria turned her face away in a huff and refused to speak to him for some time.
Notes:
• Camilla – A woman; the subject of the chapter; her body was used to seal Erynys’ soul.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
• Serena – Wolfmen Girl
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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