Chapter 223

Chapter 223

HEL SCANS

[Translator Peptobismol]

[Proofreader Demon God]

So

This is clearly an insult to the Poison Dragon, Lord Drahavier!

Even though he didnt know who was speaking, the voice was loud and clear. For a moment, the three of them stared at each other. Ronan let out a deep sigh.

What the hell is it now.

A feeling of impending trouble washed over him. Adeshan, who hadnt heard the response, bit her lower lip anxiously. Dydicans face hardened.

Drahavier? Did you just say Drahavier?

It seems so. Why, do you know him?

This is bad news. The delivery hasnt been prepared yet.

Muttering to himself, Dydican dashed back the way he came. His hurried footsteps indicated a more urgent situation than expected. Ronan spoke up.

It definitely said Poison Dragon.

Yeah, I heard that.

A dragon that uses poison? Dealing with dragons always complicates things Ugh.

He grumbled as he headed into the corridor. Adeshan quickly followed him. Not knowing what was going on, he felt it wasnt his style to just stand by and watch.

The noise grew louder as they descended the stairs. The incident was unfolding in the central hall they had seen when they first arrived. The hall, which had given off a neat impression, was now completely chaotic.

Are we a joke to you? Huh?!

Th-thats not true! Please calm down!

At the center of the chaos were two large figures and a young man. Ronan raised an eyebrow. The young man, smelling of inexperience, was the one who had recently helped them put their griffin in the stable.

He was being held by the scruff of his neck by a woman who seemed to be about 2 meters tall. It was pitiful to see him with legs dangling like a puppet. The woman brought her face closer to his and snarled again.

Say it again. We clearly paid and waited for a month. Why arent the weapons ready yet?

I-I told you. The New Beastmen Alliance kidnapped the blacksmiths, causing the delays. Moreover, we mentioned that it would take at least three months

Nonsense! I distinctly heard one month. Isnt that right?

The woman smirked and glanced at her companion beside her, a large man with a goatee nodded at her.

One month. Absolutely.

See? Is my colleague lying then?

Th-thats impossible!

The young man exclaimed. The blacksmiths circled around them, their feet shuffling nervously.

The only one seemingly relaxed in this situation was the black-clad man sitting in the corner, staring at a box. Ronan had thought hed left already, but apparently not. Spotting Dydican at the front, Ronan approached him.n0ve(l)bi(n.)co/m

Hey, Dydican.

You came. Shameful.

Whats going on? I thought this place wasnt a low-profile spot where troublemakers could come and cause a scene.

Something akin to a small-town blacksmiths shop drama was unfolding. The sight of them being unable to resist and just watching the scene unfold was similar. Dydican lowered his head in embarrassment.

Thats true. But the opponent isnt favorable. The Poison Dragons subordinates have arrived.

What kind of person is Drahavier?

Hes a dragon residing in the City of Dragons, Adren. He is also the leader of a criminal organization called Green Fang. A month ago, he randomly placed an order for five hundred sets of Aurora imbued weapons. Its an absurd demand.

He explained that the blacksmiths didnt know what to do now. With just the people here, they couldnt handle the repercussions of facing Drahaviers entourage.

Hmm.

As Ronan listened to the story, he let out a bitter laugh. It was indeed a rare case to hear of a dragon, of all beings, forming a criminal organization.

A dragon forming a criminal organization? Why would such a distinguished race?

I have no idea. Originally, their main activity was in the Pashanti Kingdom, but theyve gradually expanded their influence to the continent. The Dragon King of Adren could have sanctioned them, but

Dydicans explanation continued. Most members of the Green Fang were mortal races such as humans or beastmen. They pledged allegiance to Drahavier, receiving rewards such as gold or the imprint of a dragon.

Imprint?

Yeah. Dragons share their power. Its similar to how vampires expand their lineage. Those tattoos are evidence of that.

Dydican pointed his finger at the bulky figures. The elongated silhouette of a dragon was engraved on their necks and forearms. It was a special privilege given only to the higher-ups of the Green Fang. From the dragons perspective, even a minimal share of power was enough to have a significant effect, making it a very cost-effective reward.

Suddenly, the words spoken by the black-clad man flashed through Ronans mind. He had definitely mentioned something about an imprint from the Primordial Fame. By Primordial Fame, it likely refered to Navardose.

Would this also be considered an imprint?

Ronan twisted his lips. The power gap was too significant to engage in a physical brawl. If he wanted to handle this safely, hed need a sword capable of cutting flesh or something similar.

Now die! Because of you, this forge will be ruined!

Ugh, how annoying.

The grinning woman raised her arm. Ronan picked up a piece of glass that had fallen to the ground. Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed, sounding as if someones guts were being ripped out.

Aaaaaargggh!!

What?

Both the woman and Ronan froze simultaneously. It was a scream that could only be made when ones intestines were being torn out. Peoples attention shifted towards the source of the sound. The goatee man, who had been the womans companion, was kneeling, screaming in agony.

P-please, spare me! Please, I beg you!!

That!

Ronans eyebrows raised. The black-clad man, who had stood up unnoticed, was gripping his face with his left hand. The pupils in his crimson eyes were glaring with rage.

To handle that hulk with one hand!

Th-thats the black man, right? The one who didnt show up even when the chaos was going on.

Why is he suddenly angry?

The crowd began to murmur. They couldnt understand why the man who remained silent even during the great commotion was now angry.

Why is he suddenly acting like this? As Ronan pondered the question, his gaze shifted to the large box behind him.

Surely not.

The vile spawn of a dragon dares to stain it with its filthy blood

The black-clad man muttered. Ronan chuckled incredulously, sensing he might know why the man had intervened. On the surface of the luxurious box, there were faint bloodstains smaller than a finger.

Y-You?

The womans eyes widened, seemingly recognizing him. The veins in the mans hand gripping his face bulged. Crack! The sound of facial bones breaking reverberated through the hall.

Aaargh! My my face!

The goatee woman thrashed about, even foaming at the mouth. His desperate screams snapped her back to reality. She staggered towards him.

Let go of her hand immediately!

Despite her massive size, she moved unbelievably fast. The distance between her and the man closed in an instant. The black-clad man, glancing at the woman, exerted more pressure on the hand gripping the face. Pop! The goatee womans head burst like a water balloon, blood and brain matter splattering everywhere.

G-Graham!

The horrified woman exclaimed. It seemed that Graham was the mans name. Flames of vengeance flickered in her eyes as she lost her companion. The woman let out an angry roar and curled her body.

How dare you!!

Her scaled body swelled as if it were about to burst. It seemed she was preparing to charge while spreading her body like a spring.

In the end, she seemed intent on breaking something. Just as the woman completed her preparatory motion to rush forward, the black-clad mans hand blurred and then returned to its original state.

Huh?

Ronans eyes widened. In an instant, he had missed a move. Just as the woman was about to charge, there was a sound as if the wind was escaping her mouth.

Kraah

Ronan turned his head. An ornate candlestick made of silver broke through the back of the womans head and fell out. The candlestick, deeply embedded in her gaping mouth, was of the same kind as the one she had thrown at Adeshan.

What the

Thud! The womans body, which had been tilting slowly, collapsed to the ground. The black-clad man, who had been watching the two corpses, growled lowly.

Bugs.

A silence fell. He took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and began wiping his bloodied hands. Ronan raised an eyebrow. For a moment, a sensation similar to what he had felt in Katans workshop surfaced and then disappeared.

Ugh

That was really too much.

Sounds of retching could be heard here and there. The black-clad man wiped his hands clean and opened then closed the box. There was no further fuss over its contents. Ronan, who had coincidentally encountered him, spoke up.

Youre a dragon, right?

Youve piqued my interest. Remember that.

What?

Ronan asked, but there was no response. The black-clad man walked away, leaving the people behind.

Cold silence prevailed until he exited the Aurora Skar. Thud! Only after the entrance closed, the voices of horror and fear began to echo from various corners.

HEL SCANS

[Translator Peptobismol]

[Proofreader Demon God]

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