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Published at 20th of April 2023 09:52:24 AM


Chapter 152

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Gibil threw his head back and laughed hard before clutching his chest in pain. Once he found his breath, he said, “Jester of a young one, Frost Macaques come in rabid droves to protect their food. I do not question your bravery or your skills, but the reality is—”

“He speaks the truth, my dear,” Yusa said. “Part of it, I can vouch for. He saved me on his own from the Frost Macaques when I tried to gather Peelys. That’s why he’s my he—”

“You can ask every Hunter-Warrior in the village if anyone helped me,” I interrupted. “But they’re probably too busy fighting the Blighted in the tunnels to bother with questions.”

Gibil scratched his bandaged tusks. The part not covered by wrappings showed cracks. “Granted, it is possible to take the food of the Frost Macaques and come out of the forest unscathed, but killing their king? Young one, I have to see it to believe it.”

“I have proof!” I laid the loot dropped by the noisy monkeys on the table.

“An interesting fang you have here.” Gibil trained his four eyes on the sharp curved tooth he held between his fingers. “Not dried yet—it comes from a fresh kill. The shape is right for a Frost Macaque or its close relative, the Bludgeon Macaque, known for its hammer for a tail. This fang is fairly large compared to the other fangs you have here.”

“Because it’s from their king,” I said. “It was double the size of the normal ones. It’s not from this Bludgeon Macaque. Haven’t met any of that kind of monkey.”

“They live far from the village, on the ledges of the Karachos Cliffs. I believe you haven’t encountered one. Still, the fang alone is not evidence enough for your claims.” Gibil picked up one of the icicles that were the mane of the boss monkey and placed it next to tuffs of straight white hair. “But this! Frozen fur… this could only come from the Frost King Macaque!

“You could’ve led with that,” I muttered.

“Impressive that someone as young as you killed many Frost Macaques—for their king would only show itself if you did—and their leader as well! A great future lies ahead of you!”

“You are truly my hero!” Yusa gushed.

“I’m the hero of everyone,” I said, holding up my hands. “Let’s put it that way. I’m not being heroic for a specific person. And I certainly wasn’t trying to be a hero when I took down the Frost King Macaque.”

“Something eludes me about the Frost King Macaque…” Yusa down her knife, concentrating in deep thought. “I have heard about it before from somewhere.”

[ Hidden Achievement: One Against the Royal Army]

Eliminate five hundred Feral Frost Macaques and a
Frost King Macaque on your own.

“I knew it!” I raised a triumphant fist at the surprise notification. Well, I didn’t exactly know of the hidden achievement… but I felt in my balls that there was something more to the Frost Macaques than just stealing their food.

Kezodilla told me that many people used the Peely fruit quest to power level like I did, but usually went as a group or leeched off a high-level player. He was surprised I could survive alone. A player was meant to party with other players or Hunter-Warrior NPCs for Yusa’s quest. If not using a tank build, a player would need to be over-leveled to solo it.

Killing five hundred Frost Macaques was easy enough. Even discounting those Kezo had killed when he joined my party, I had reached that number severalfold.

But what about the Frost King Macaque? Did it show up every time, or were there specific triggers?

If I wasn’t mistaken, there was only one chance to kill it. If a player died during the attempt—and it was very likely that’d happen with the bullshit freezing skill—they’d revive in the village, and the king would be gone because the quest was over. The player already had the Peely fruits.

“I remember it now!” Yusa exclaimed, her eyes brightening. “I know someone who’ll be delighted you hunted a Frost King Macaque.”

“Who?” I asked. Information as a reward? Interesting. Could this be related to the [Kruos Ichor Sliver]?

“The village goat,” said Yusa, putting her extended index fingers next to her temples to mimic horns even though she had her own.

“The one with deep red, fluffy fur living in that hut full of musical instruments?”

“Yes! Is there any other goat here?”

“I suppose not. Were all the other goats wiped out during the Great Quake too?”

Yusa didn’t answer my question, continuing with her exposition about the hidden achievement. “Everyone knows that the best winemaker is the village goat. Its love for wine is second only to its love for music. I visit its hut now and again, either to buy Peely Fruit Wine for Gibil or to look at how it makes wine—I do a bit of cleaning as payment for its lessons. It is very dexterous with its hooves, especially when it slices fruits. Fascinating to witness.”

“I imagine so,” I replied, recalling how the goat could inexplicably play the lute.

“Over time, I earned its trust, and it imparted to me its winemaking secrets. It also tells me stories not often heard by others. In decades past, before the Great Quake, many goats lived in the village.”

“There really was more than one goat before?”

“They made wine not only for Kurghal but other tribes too, and they’d search far and wide for fruits and flowers. While foraging, they fought other creatures, including Frost Macaques. The goats are masters of music magic—”

“That’s something I never thought to hear when I woke up this morning.”

“—and could fend off even great beasts many times their size.”

“Before my grandfather took his place in the halls beyond,” Gibil chimed in, “he’d tell the youngling that I was stories of the Great Horns of old, playing their instruments as they charged into herds of Fulgurian Mammoths. My heart is heavy that I didn’t have the opportunity to witness their majesty.”

“Yes, only one goat now remains.” Yusa mournfully nodded. “The village provides it fruits, for it cannot gather on its own like the musical troupes of its ancestors. Too dangerous. The arrangement is well and good, but the goat wished to be like its ancestors, it told me. When it was younger, it sneaked out of the village—it doesn’t want the Hunter-Warriors to know it travels alone—and scoured the Golden Forest for fruit to make wine.

Many times the goat clashed with the Frost Macaques, relying on the healing songs and petrifying drums to keep itself safe even if outnumbered. But once, the Frost King Macaque showed itself and almost killed the goat. It was only luck that the goat managed to escape. Since then, the goat ventures no longer far from the village.”

“Goat versus monkey?” I said with an amused smile. “I’d pay a lot of Artas to see that match.”

“Show the goat this proof of the death of its enemy,” Yusa said. “It will give you great gifts. Perhaps you can ask for its prized aged wine. Many fragrant casks in the cavern beneath its hut date back from before the Great Quake, it had boasted to me. They have magical properties if you drink them.”

“Let’s rewind a bit. Healing songs, did I hear that right? Like the goat plays the guitar, and those who hear the music get healed?”

“That is so, young one,” answered Gibil before Yusa could speak. “Are you considering asking the village goat for the secrets of music magic? It’s hard to convince it to part with a drop of its ancient wine, more so the knowledge of goat music.”

I shrugged. “Worth a try. I’m shopping for heals and aura buffs, and it sounds like goat music has those. Also… a guitar. Is that counted as a weapon?” I took all the Frost Macaque loot on the table and dumped it back into my inventory. “Thanks for the info, Yusa. I’ll visit the goat some other time. For now, I have somewhere else—”

“A moment, heroic lad.” Gibil tentatively raised his hand.

“The wine is all for you,” I said. “You don’t need to share it with me.”

“I am curious about your triumph over the Frost King Macaque.”

I sat back down. “What about it?”

“Where did you kill it?”

“Near the Peely plants in the Golden Forest,” I replied. “Why? Are you going to look for it to check my story?”

He gestured at his heavily-bandaged body. “As you can see, that isn’t possible for me. I do not doubt your tale of bravery and martial prowess. However, I am curious about one thing. Did you find a peculiar crystal in the carcass of the Frost King Macaque?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

Pathfinder Gibil was talking about the [Kruos Ichor Sliver]. I didn’t mention it to him because I was unsure whether it was good or bad that I had it—a clump of dried blood from the giant beast that killed many of our people sounded like contraband. I didn’t want to make my situation more precarious.

Do not think like a box… More like, think like a criminal. Which I technically was. I didn’t have a close connection with Gibil compared with Gula or Bawu. Even those two, I didn’t completely trust.

By asking about it, Gibil indirectly confirmed that the [Kruos Ichor Sliver] was indeed valuable. He asked for its possible location instead of telling me about it. He might have thoughts of taking it for himself. I could be overthinking this, but I had to be careful whom I trusted.

“Is that so?” Gibil raised the bottle of [Peely Fruit Wine]. “Much gratitude for your gift again. Do tell us what comes of your visit to the goat.”

If he had volunteered the information, I would’ve admitted I had the item. I left Yusa’s house, heading to the Spirit Carvers to buy a Sigil Totem.

 

I materialized right next to a stone statue of a four-armed monster as tall as me, menacingly stretching its arms as if to grab those who passed. Beside the statue were a couple of Mardukryon guards flanking a small opening that descended into the ground.

As soon as I appeared, the guards swaggered close, flames bursting from the tips of their spears to coat the blades. Other than the burning spears and golden crystals lining the cave entrance, there was no other light source. The trees in this area grew lush, almost covering the sky, without the sicky bulbs caused by the golden crystals. There also wasn’t much snow here.

I wasn’t sure where this place was in relation to the village, but it must be quite far.

After all, this was the dungeon.

“Back to visit the traitor?” asked the guard to my right.

“She has healed my injuries before,” I said. “I’m repaying her kindness before I can hate her.”

“Make it quick,” said the other guard. He pressed his hands on the runes carved on the rocky wall. The air over the entrance shimmered. “You may go in.”

Temple

I had played an MMORPG before using a tank minstrel, singing buff/debuffs songs in the middle of a battle. It’ll be funny if one of Herald’s Ocadules is something like a bard. Very tanky, in the middle of the battlefield playing songs and not dying. I think we can work on that plot line in the next book. 

Fifteen advanced chapters on Patreon. Thanks to all patrons, especially Cidule tier Teeneet (aka Whale) 
Read my other story: REND - a psychological novel with an atypical protagonist 
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