Chapter 29

Chapter 29
## Chapter: 29

### Chapter Title: Twin Canyon (2)

—

The tavern was a gruesome tableau of carnage and lifeless forms.

“Ugh… h-heuk… h-heuk…”

A lone mercenary sobbed, his frame racked with violent shivers. His companions had been dead for a significant length of time. His gaze, saturated with pure dread, remained fixed on the imposing figure pacing toward him.

The man was a titan. More accurately, he was a demon wearing a human mask. Killing nearly a dozen seasoned fighters alone in under thirty minutes was an impossible feat. The mercenary had heard rumors of legendary warriors who surpassed the limits of mortal men, but he never expected to encounter such a nightmare in a desolate outpost like this.

Death was certain. He knew it.

Standing before the barbarian, the club in the mercenary’s hand felt as inconsequential as a splinter. Desperate, his eyes darted around the room. They snagged on a heavy axe buried deep in a comrade’s skull, having sliced through the metal helm with terrifying ease.

He was no master of arms, but even a novice could tell that axe was a weapon of extraordinary quality.

‘That blade… it hit with the force of a falling mountain… it carved through iron like it was wet parchment… If I can just land one lucky throw, I might actually drop this freak…’

The mercenary gulped. Seizing the haft, he wrenched it free with a wet, sucking sound, the blade slick with gore. He forced his shaking limbs to steady, channeled every bit of adrenaline left in his system, and launched the weapon.

It was a pathetic effort; the axe traced a weak, wobbling arc through the air, trailing off like a dying flame.

Whoosh… clatter, thud-thud…

The edge hit the floor with a dull ring and rolled uselessly, a far cry from the lethal, predatory flight it had displayed earlier. The barbarian looked down at the weapon resting at his feet and shook his head in disappointment.

“That isn’t how you hurl an axe.”

“H-heuk… h-heuk…”

“You have to lock your grip, coil the power in your forearm, snap the wrist with a fluid motion, and let your fingertips provide the final rotation—like this.”

Whirr-whirr-crack!

The mercenary was granted one final, perfect demonstration of the technique.

Splat-crunch!

The price of his education was his existence. His panicked expression was cleaved perfectly down the center, and his body slumped heavily onto the floorboards.

“That’s how it’s done.”

Kadim spoke the words softly as he stepped forward to reclaim the tool. He wiped the filth from the metal, draped it over the back of a chair, and took a seat.

“Where’s that drink, tavern keep? The entertainment is finished.”

The owner of the inn, who had been cowering behind the service counter, peeked out. His reply was thin, trembling with a fear that bordered on a total breakdown.

“Y-yes…?! R-right away! I’ll serve you immediately!”

For rare celebrations, the innkeeper had a secret stash of mead—and today, it was poured as a peace offering.

He filled a tankard to the brim and swallowed it in great gulps.

The brew lacked sweetness and possessed a fierce burn. However, its heavy, viscous body, layered with notes of deep honey and wild fruit, made it deceptively easy to consume.

It didn’t provide the crisp relief of a cold ale, but it was hearty enough. Kadim emptied three mugs in rapid succession and remarked,

“This is excellent. What did you use to flavor the honey?”

Since receiving a 1,000-Luden gold coin, the innkeeper’s grim expression had softened slightly, though serving the barbarian still made his hands shake.

“R-rowan berries, forest apples, and wild strawberries, my lord. I am honored you find it to your liking.”

“Do you have more in the back? I could finish another bottle before I depart.”

“P-pardon me?”

“What? You’d all sleep better once I’ve moved on, wouldn’t you?”

The innkeeper looked caught off guard, fumbling for a response. He stammered something about retrieving more spirits and retreated to the cellar.

The task of dragging the mercenaries’ remains away fell to Duncan and the locals. At first, Duncan was hauling them out alone, but eventually, the villagers watching from outside began to trickle in, offering their assistance with hesitant movements.

The younger men worked together to move the corpses. The women appeared with pails and brushes to scrub the crimson stains from the wood. A cart was brought around, and the entire cleanup operation began to move with practiced efficiency.

Because of their help, the tavern was restored to a semblance of order quickly. Duncan walked up to Kadim, looking somewhat shell-shocked.

“Everyone is terrified, but they don’t seem particularly upset that those men are dead. Were they really that much of a plague on this town…?”

“Take a drink, Duncan. You did well with the cleanup.”

“Th-thank you, sir!”

“Another bottle is coming. We’ll finish it and then we’re off.”

“Pardon?”

He asked the question out of habit, but he knew there was no other choice but to follow.

Regardless of whether the mercenaries were criminals, the slaughter of ten men wouldn’t be ignored. If word reached the regional governor, soldiers would be sent, and things would get complicated.

It was frustrating, but necessary. He had looked forward to a night in a real bed for once, but it was back to the wilderness. Still, it was preferable to rotting in a cell for murder.

He exhaled a soft sigh and took another pull of the drink. The alcohol—his first taste in a long time—rushed to his head. Urp. He turned aside to vent a burp. Duncan surveyed the room cautiously before leaning in to whisper,

“Sir… did you consume the blood of that monster—that demon—again this time?”

“No. That blood is still tucked away in your pack, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes. I’m just stunned. I knew your strength was incredible, but you fought just as fiercely today without even using it…”

“…”

Now that he thought about it, it was true.

This physical form had been robust from the beginning, but only within the bounds of a normal human. A simple kick shattering a man’s leg? That wasn’t possible before.

‘Is this body evolving on its own…?’

It was the same pattern as his first life.

A body that began as merely athletic became something transcendent after he hunted down countless beasts and entities. Back then, he needed demon blood to challenge the high-ranking lords of the abyss—but against standard creatures, he could fight with his bare hands.

Unlike the physical limits of the real world, it seemed the game’s progression mechanics were functioning here. If he needed the blood less often, that was a development he welcomed.

He finished the second bottle of mead the innkeeper provided. Duncan was starting to sway from the alcohol, but Kadim remained perfectly clear-headed. The iron-clad metabolism of a barbarian could process even the strongest spirits without losing focus.

As he prepared to leave, an elderly man shuffled toward the table.

“Forgive the interruption, master mercenary. Might this humble servant of the village have a moment of your time?”

Kadim felt a twinge of irritation. Nevertheless, he didn’t dismiss the man immediately.

“You’re the head of this village, I take it.”

“Indeed, I hold that responsibility, as unworthy as I am.”

“My apologies for the mess. Burying ten men is a lot of labor.”

“No, no—you shouldn’t apologize, sir. Those scoundrels simply encountered a nest of vipers, that is all.”

Kadim lifted an eyebrow.

The elder gave a subtle, knowing grin. That was the official story they were going with.

“They claimed they were here to protect this place—what’s the real story?”

“Nothing but lies. They styled themselves as mercenaries, but they were bandits through and through. They ran a protection racket here and made life a misery for everyone.”

“Then why were they heading into those woods?”

“Not to save us—they were hunting serpents to brew tonic. They heard it improved a man’s vitality and thought they’d make a fortune.”

“…”

“We were all living in fear of the next time they’d get drunk and go after the local girls… Because of you, that fear is gone. As the village head, and as a father and grandfather—on behalf of us all—I thank you.”

“Save your gratitude for the vipers, old man.”

The elder smiled thinly and nodded. Mercenaries go hunting snakes, get bitten, and die. A clean, simple narrative—everyone wins except the deceased.

However, one detail bothered him. Kadim folded his arms and leaned back.

“How is the Free City Alliance managed? Who holds the authority in these districts? I assume it’s not like the empire with its lords and monarchs.”

The elder stroked his grey beard. It wasn’t the kind of question he expected from a wandering barbarian.

“The councils of the Great Cities rule the central territories directly. Fringe regions like ours are overseen by council envoys and their staff from hubs like the Dellutana Council.”

“Then why didn’t you call for the envoy to remove those thugs? Surely the staff has guards or mages?”

“They do, sir—they have the council guard and even high-ranking sorcerers among them, but…”

The elder trailed off. He stole a glance at Kadim before proceeding.

“To be honest, that is why I have approached you. It feels shameful to ask for more after everything, but… we are truly cornered.”

Aha, there it was.

There was no such thing as a free cover-up from the villagers. They had been flattering him to set up a request. Kadim realized the old man was quite cunning for a frontier leader.

Still, if the task sounded tedious, he’d decline. He gestured for the man to speak. The elder bowed and laid out the problem.

“As I mentioned, Eckl is under the jurisdiction of the Dellutana envoy. We have lived peacefully by paying our dues—he took care of us.

He couldn’t do anything about the ‘Forest You Can’t Return From,’ but that didn’t matter much. It only bordered one side of us, and we simply stayed away.

But the situation has shifted.

“The envoy resides in the nearby city of Remtana. To reach it, one must pass through the Twin Canyon to the northeast. But recently, a terrifying beast has claimed the pass.”

For some reason, the envoy had failed to act for months. Villagers who tried to navigate the canyon were nearly killed. To the east are impassable peaks, and to the west is the forest—there is no other way out.

Eckl was essentially a prison.

That was why the mercenaries were able to do as they pleased. Without the law being able to reach them, more bandits would eventually arrive. They could grow their own food, but they couldn’t get salt or supplies without trade.

To survive, they needed that monster dead.

“I heard you killed a massive predator in the forest. I thought it was just tavern talk, but after seeing you fight… would you consider helping us one more time, sir?”

Kadim remained silent, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

The barbarian wasn’t concerned with the plight of the villagers. He seemed to be searching his memory, then he signaled Duncan to reveal a map.

“Elder, is this ‘Twin Canyon’ the place you’re talking about?”

“Y-yes, that’s it.”

“Then the thing blocking the path has to be that bastard.”

“…Which one?”

“…”

The elder’s eyes went wide with alarm at Kadim’s implication.

“How could you know? Have you traveled through there before?”

“Yeah. A very long time ago.”

Probably before your grandfather was even born.

Kadim didn’t elaborate; he just stood and stretched his muscles. He had the information he needed—now it was time to talk business.

He didn’t work for free unless he was hunting demons. He leaned in and looked the elder in the eye. The old man understood the look immediately and whispered,

“We are a poor village—we cannot offer much. But since our lives depend on this, we’ve scraped together everything we could…”

“What’s the figure?”

“…10,000 Luden.”

“Double it.”

The elder nearly choked.

20,000 Luden? For a monster that even professional mercenaries couldn’t handle, it was a fair price, but it was a staggering amount for the village.

Kadim wasn’t just being greedy. He had a specific reason for the price hike. If 10,000 was their starting offer, 20,000 was actually a bargain.

He lowered his voice and spoke with grim certainty.

“About that canyon monster.”

“…”

“It’s not one beast. It’s two.”

That was why they called it Twin Canyon.

The elder could only stare back at Kadim with a hollow, stunned expression.