Kagyu BLADE & BASTARD: Wireframe Dungeon & Dragon with Red Dead Volume 2

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-1-7183-9350-9
Verlag: J-Novel Club
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, Band 2, 250 Seiten

Reihe: BLADE & BASTARD

Scorch marks blacken the wireframe dungeon, and the smell of burnt meat hangs in the air. Iarumas's party stumbles upon a corpse, more charcoal than flesh, and Raraja insists on dragging it out. Murmur-Chant-Pray-Invoke. A large-framed girl named Berkanan gulps the fresh air of her second chance at life. Her confidence is low and her skills as a fledgling mage are inadequate, but despite all that, she has a serious goal-kill the red dragon that burned her party alive. This dragon, an interloper from the lower levels of the dungeon, has become so notorious that even the most seasoned parties refuse to engage. Even so, Garbage and Raraja agree to aid Berkanan, and Iarumas lends his support. The chances of failure are high, but in the dungeon, immolation is not a permanent end...as long as someone is willing to pay. Can Iarumas's party douse the flames of the dragon, or will they all succumb to a menacing red death?

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kagyu, Kumo

Weitere Mitwirkende

So-Bin

McCann, Sean

Leseproben

She was a big girl.

Tall, with big eyes. Big muscles, big boobs, and a big butt too.

But more than all of that, what drew the crowd’s eyes was just how she was. She stood six-and-a-half feet tall. Large enough that people had to look up at her.

Her hair, which swayed behind her like a tail, was black, yet her timid eyes shone a brilliant gold. She walked like a ghost—slowly, hunched over, as if attempting to hide her great size in what little way she could. However, she seemed unaware that this posture naturally caused her bountiful bosom to stick out in front of her.

Here, in the crowded reception area of the training grounds, she wasn’t managing to make herself any less noticeable.

“Now, write your name.”

“O-Okay...!”

The guard peered up at the girl. She shrunk down pitifully and wrote her name on the register.

the guard thought idly, his eyes following her scrawl. Although he heard the names of foreign lands every day, he could never distinguish one from another. Still, there was a country in the east, where the sands spread out far and wide, and he was pretty sure it was called Almarl.

That nation had come to mind because of the provocative outfit the girl wore. During nights out drinking, he’d heard all about the dances that Almari girls performed in those revealing costumes.

From her attire, he could tell she was foreign, and presumably also a mage. She carried a staff, one suited to her size. In anyone else’s hands, it would’ve practically been a club.

Yet, what really drew the eye wasn’t her large body, or even her unusual clothing—no, it was her beautiful face. Her alluring countenance was the very essence of that foreign land beyond the sands to the east. There was something sensual about it.

But the girl was timid. She looked around the area hesitantly, as if frightened. Each time she turned, her braided hair swayed, as did her ample bosom. On a smaller woman, these gestures would have been less noticeable; however, the motion required for her to look around was magnified by her large figure.

“You may pass.”

“Th-Thank you so much...!”

“Whoa!” The guard had to quickly dodge her club—actually a staff—as her bow sent it plunging down toward him.

The training grounds.

Built after the dungeon’s discovery in response to the growing number of adventurers, this facility was becoming a shell of its former self. There was no way to truly manage adventurers—the gap between those who had delved into the dungeon and those who had not was insurmountable.

thought the guard. If all he wanted was to make a living, then he was paid well enough to just stand at his post. He was far better off than a brave hero, a descendant of some legendary figure, or one of the monsters of the dungeon.

So, who were the training grounds for, then?

the guard had concluded. These know-nothing newcomers came to sign their names on the register, and in exchange, the veterans looking for shields got their mitts on some fresh meat.

That was all this place was for.

“Okay, I’m... I’m gonna do my best!”

The girl worked up her courage and stepped forward. Her name, as recorded in the register, was Berkanan. The guard had little inclination to remember it. In all likelihood, he’d never see her again.

Few adventurers ever left Scale.

None of the dead did, of course—but it was rare even for those who were still alive.

§

“Whoa?!”

“Arf!”

Raraja thought he was going to die, but Garbage was the very epitome of high spirits. Her eager barks echoed through the dungeon as her broadsword roared, dealing death to their enemies. Blows with such mass and speed behind them might not decapitate the enemy, but the damage was sure to be critical. However, skilled though she might have been, a single swing from a fighter’s blade could never slay a whole mob of enemies.

Raraja raised his dagger to parry a foe that came flying at him.

“BUZZZZZZZZ!”

“Wh-What’s with these bugs?!”

Raraja grimaced as the beetle chittered around his blade, which was caught in its mandibles. It felt like the insect could chew through anything...perhaps even the equipment they had purchased in Catlob’s store. If Raraja had still been using the shoddy weapon he’d once relied on, he wouldn’t have been able to stand looking at the bug’s face.

Boring beetles.

He couldn’t help but laugh at how odd and silly the name had sounded when he’d first learned it. Were they really that ? From what he’d heard, these giant insects inhabited the shallow levels of the dungeon. They could roll their bodies up into balls and shoot off.

Maybe they were actually bowling beetles, or balling beetles, he thought, but no...

“It’s going to bore through you,” warned the black-clad mage, Iarumas, who was standing in the rear with his arms crossed.

“Woodhead sux!” spat Raraja. No one even remembered the origin of that curse, but he nonetheless threw it in Iarumas’s direction. Though the boy might swear, he wouldn’t complain—he knew all too well how fortunate he was to be in his current situation.

Sparks flew across the dusky burial chamber, and Raraja swung his dagger free as their lingering light seared the darkness. Even if their foe’s defenses were thick (though Iarumas had inexplicably said they were thin), there were ways to deal with them.

Raraja shot straight forward and took three stabs at the beetle. One strike sank into a gap in its carapace.

“BUZZZZZZZZ?!”

“Die...!”

Raraja planted a boot on the insect as it flailed its legs around, spurting filthy bug juice everywhere, and kicked it away, freeing his blade. Wiping the weapon clean, Raraja found that his pale blade was intact, without so much as a chip. He let out a sigh of relief. But, it wasn’t long before he scowled again. He could sense Iarumas’s eyes on him, although the man didn’t say anything.

“Woof!”

He turned to see the scrawny, redheaded girl swinging her greatsword around, full of life.

Garbage was facing what was basically a huge spider.

The creature had fine hairs all over its body, eight cold eyes, fangs dripping with slime, and it jumped around as it attacked. Even just one of those features would have been enough to strike terror into Raraja, but apparently, such was not true for Garbage.

“Yap! Yap!!!”

She slammed her broadsword into its bulbous body like a rambunctious child smashing a watermelon with a stick. And, lacking the carapace of a boring beetle, the spider was probably a softer target. Each of Garbage’s strikes was followed by a shower of ichor.

“Watch yourselves. There’s a lot of them.”

“Arf!”

The tone of both Iarumas’s warning and Garbage’s bark were so relaxed—did she really comprehend his words?

Whether she understood or not, Raraja did. All too well.

“Don’t get too far ahead!”

He desperately chased after the girl as she loped onward, swinging again and again. Garbage knocked away the spiders, which were as numerous as Iarumas had said, and deflected the beetles that flew at her.

Surely, spiders ate beetles. And when the beetles were of this size, they could probably eat spiders too. Raraja pondered their strange alliance, and for an instant, he found it similar to his own odd party.

The boy’s eyes met a pair of blue ones.

“Arf.”

Garbage glanced at him as she ran across a pile of dead spiders, snorting as if to say,

It was frustrating, but at the moment, she was certainly the one who was clearing the path for them. He’d mentally curse at her, but he wouldn’t complain. He knew all too well how lucky he was to be here right now.

Yes, he was blessed.

He now had a routine: wake at the inn, prepare equipment, delve into the dungeon, fight monsters, gain riches, and return to town. Eventually, their party would move on to the next floor. To prepare for that, Raraja trained. Raised his level.

Letting Garbage drag him around as they beat up bugs was just another step toward that.

In short, he was adventuring.

§

“Arf.”

“Don’t go kicking them every time! It’s dangerous, okay?!”

After giving the treasure chest a good hard boot, Garbage looked down at him. Those blue eyes, like clear lakes, seemed to say,

Feeling restless under her gaze, Raraja kept moving his hands. The burial chamber was filled with a mountain of spider and beetle carcasses, wet with sticky juices that could be mucus or some other unidentified bodily fluid. Kneeling, surrounded by...