Gluttony Demon King with the Swampman ~A Man with No Magic Power Who Dreamed of Magic, Wielding Knowledge from His Past Life Through Steady Research and Hard Work to Become the Most Vicious Final Boss~ - Chapter 16: Omen - The Black Ink Writhes

Chapter 16: Omen – The Black Ink Writhes

What on earth is happening up on that mountain?

The coachman swallowed hard and stared up at the peak.

Far away, thunderous roars echoed again and again, and each time a huge flock of birds scattered into the sky.

He had passed countless monsters fleeing down the mountain more than once.

The young lady called Noiche had cast a concealment spell that hid the man, the horses, and the carriage from the monsters, but even so, he didn’t feel alive.

Hiding behind a big boulder, the coachman occasionally peeked out and looked toward the mountain.

What should he do? Maybe he should just run away alone—right when he was thinking that, he saw figures coming down the mountain.

There were three of them.

The same three he had brought here.

Twin-like young ladies and, sandwiched between them, a white-haired boy.

The coachman started to wave at them as they walked closer—and then,

“Hm…?”

He suddenly tilted his head.

For some reason, the twin ladies seemed to be looking at him with cold expressions.

Right after that, one of them—Noiche—reached out toward the coachman from a short distance away.

“Sleep, little rabbit, in your cradle, let the dream-filled sky descend.”

—Spell chanting?

Before the coachman’s mind could catch up, the magic was released.

A shadow crawling along the ground, or perhaps night-colored magic power slithering like a snake.

It reached the coachman’s feet in an instant, and his body crumpled with a thud.

“Hii! Th-this is binding magic…? What the hell did I even do!?”

His legs suddenly lost all strength.

He collapsed forward, and even the arms that caught him on the shadow went limp.

With all four limbs dangling uselessly, the coachman fell face-down.

Eventually the three of them walked over at a leisurely pace.

Twirling a lock of rose-colored hair around her finger, Zaria looked down at the coachman with ice-cold eyes.

“What did you do, huh…? Then let’s do a baggage check.”

“Eek!?”

Zaria grabbed the helpless coachman by the collar, yanked him up, then threw him back to the ground.

While the man groaned in pain, Zaria rummaged through his pouch and pulled out exactly what she was looking for.

It was a small cylinder the size of a pebble.

Made from processed beast finger bone, with tiny holes all over it.

The coachman’s face stiffened.

That was the undeniable proof of his crime.

“Found it. A wolf-calling whistle. You used this yesterday to call the wolves, didn’t you?”

“You’re also the one who snitched to Kujack that we were heading up the mountain.”

You really did it—the sisters glared at him.

Cold sweat poured down the coachman’s face as he gulped.

They were exactly right. Everything the ladies said was true.

This coachman had been approached by Kujack three days earlier.

Along with a generous upfront payment, he was told: if he ever gave these twin ladies a ride, blow this whistle near the mountain, and if anything strange happened, release the finch to send word.

“P-please forgive me! They offered me money! I only did what they told me to…!”

Zaria sighed in exasperation at the man crying and begging, claiming he never thought the whistle would actually summon monsters.

Noiche didn’t move a single muscle in her face as she pointed the tip of her knife at him.

“H-hii…!?”

While pressing the blade to his throat, Noiche spoke calmly.

“You will take us to the city of Dura for free.

You will guarantee Haro’s passage permit in the name of the trading company.

There will be no next time. Understood?”

“Y-yes ma’am! With pleasure!”

The man nodded furiously.

“Alright, Haro, that good with you?”

Zaria turned around to check with the remaining person.

The white-haired boy who until now had shown zero interest in the coachman.

Only when Zaria asked did he finally answer briefly, “Yeah, anything’s fine.”

Then he continued.

“More importantly, Noiche, what was that binding spell just now?”

“A spell that puts only the extremities of the body to sleep. It keeps the mind awake while sealing movement, so it’s perfect for interrogation. The night sky also has properties that invite sleep.”

“Oh, very practical.”

The boy’s interest was clearly directed only at the magic.

At any rate, thanks to that whole affair, they were finally able to resume their journey.

Their first destination was the city of Dura—the closest fortified city from here, a massive trade hub, and above all, a city of adventurers that housed a branch of the Adventurers’ Guild.

*

Glurp—it trembled with its liquid body.

It was inside a glass bottle.

An extremely ordinary monster commonly known as a “slime.”

Thanks to repeated doses of medicine, it now had a smooth, black-ink-like body and the ability to draw magic circles on its own.

Because of that ability, its master had given it the very straightforward name “Ink.”

No one had yet noticed the strange change beginning to appear in Ink.

The trigger for that change was an original spell Haro had created—“Whale Transform.”

The effect of the spell was: when another liquid is poured into Ink, instead of digesting and absorbing it, Ink assimilates the liquid while keeping its original properties intact.

To cancel the mirror-image magic power disorder that afflicted Noiche and Zaria, Haro had used this spell.

It was a necessary process to make Ink take in flume spirit silver, the magic metal that reflects magical power.

But there was one other thing—

Another liquid that Ink had taken in.

Dragon blood.

Right after incorporating the flume spirit silver, while the effect of Whale Transform still lingered, Ink had sliced through the ice dragon’s carotid artery.

An enormous amount of dragon blood had flowed in.

An amount no human body could ever withstand—Ink, a magical life-form, gulped it down greedily.

It shuddered with its liquid body.

Trembling at the overwhelming supply of magical power that raised its rank as a magical creature.

Having taken in dragon blood—an extraordinarily high-quality magical catalyst—Ink’s body was,

right now,

about to leap up the stairs of evolution, skipping countless steps at once.

It was waiting, not far in the future.