How to Survive as a Dungeon Manager in Another World

36 – The White Fur Clan (2)

“If you value your life, hand it over now.”

She shot a gaze filled with pure animosity toward me.

If that gaze had a form, it would have pierced me through and caused me to spew blood, such was its chilling force.

Adina, who had somehow slipped behind me, was glancing around nervously, clearly ill at ease.

“Not only were you banished, but you dare to steal a treasure of the clan? There are limits to our leniency. Do not further tarnish the clan’s honor with your defiance. That is all I have to say.”

She looked from Adina to me, then back again, without a word.

But she didn’t give me even a passing glance; it seemed her business truly lay solely with Adina, just as she’d said.

‘Has she not spoken of me properly yet?’

Of course, Adina was the one who stole the rune that started it all, but it was I who ultimately swallowed it whole.

I received the rune as a condition for accepting Adina into my company.

Naturally, I thought she would, like a proper coward, speak my name first in this situation, but, to be honest, her showing some loyalty came as a slight surprise.

I interjected into the conversation, feigning nonchalance.

“Are you the head of the Baekmo Clan?”

My question caused her to frown, and she snapped back.

“This is a matter for the clan. The third party must withdraw. And…”

Her gaze slowly shifted to Arkan.

She spat out, her voice laced with a strange, suppressed intensity,

“Great Lord. What business brings you here? Surely you, an outsider, have no intention of interfering in clan affairs?”

“Huh? Why would I? Let them have their domestic dispute. As long as it doesn’t affect me, I have no intention of interfering.”

“Then I would appreciate it if you would leave. My only business is with this child.”

Just then, I sensed other presences approaching.

More members of the Baekmo Clan, who had been watching the situation from behind, now closed in.

As if they weren’t beastkin, I don’t know how many people they brought to catch just one.

Even at a glance, there seemed to be at least twenty. It looked as though they were about to start a battle.

Adina tugged at my sleeve, asking anxiously,

“U-um… what do we do?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure either.”

It didn’t seem like they would simply let this go, and their eyes burned with a fierce determination to achieve their goal, even if it meant war.

The aggressiveness attributed to the beastkin race does not apply to all clans. Rather, the more purebred and historically significant a clan’s lineage is, the more powerful is their pride and belligerence. And the Baekmo Clan stood at that apex.

That was only natural, for their ancestor was none other than the holy beast Baekmo Gumiho, the first to set foot upon the transcendent precipice.

As such, the history of the Baekmo Clan was so long-lived that it could be said to be intertwined with the entire history of the beastkin race, and the martial prowess of each and every member of the clan was not to be taken lightly.

The woman glaring at me now, in particular, was the current head of the Baekmo Clan, and she wouldn’t be outmatched in terms of martial prowess, even compared to the lords of the Lord’s Council.

“Eeek…!”

Knowing that, Adina must be shivering so.

Frankly, the only ones who can stop her here are Arkan, and…

‘Just me, then.’

My gaze drifted to Arkan.

She was watching us with a strange smile, her expression as if she’d found some long-awaited amusement.

I could sense it instinctively – expecting help from her would be in vain.

I swallowed a sigh and said calmly,

“…That’s enough.”

“Human, get out of the way.”

“That’s a bit difficult. As you can see, we’re together.”

“Together? A human?”

She glared at Adina, spitting out the words as if she were grinding them between her teeth.

“…So you really live with a human.”

“What problem is that?”

“Of course, it’s a problem. A member of the Baekmo Clan daring to mingle with humans? A dolt without a shred of honor smears the face of the clan with filth.”

“Honor? That petty, narrow-minded honor that casts out young members for being fearful?”

“…What?”

“The honor of the Baekmo Clan was to embrace its kin, especially the young, regardless of the reason. In that light, it’s you who’s smearing the face of the clan with filth, not this clueless one.”

I met her gaze.

It was obvious even with a glance that she was the leader here.

“So leave. Stop forcing your way into another’s territory.”

I warned her, rather forcefully.

Beastmen weren’t a race to be persuaded nicely, so I deliberately provoked her even more.

I could feel Adina looking at me with surprised eyes.

She probably never imagined I would openly take her side like this.

But I had no choice.

Having swallowed the rune, I couldn’t escape responsibility either.

“You’re crossing the line.”

The hostility that pricked my skin intensified.

The White Hair Tribe, silent observers until now, began to encircle us, a tightening noose.

Adina trembled, her face a sickly shade, as the atmosphere thickened with menace.

I glanced at Ludyne.

The corner of her mouth slowly curved upwards.

The heavy, viscous intent to kill that saturated the air seemed to ignite her.

Her crimson eyes, now fully opened, flashed with a stark, red light, and the aura of the Heavenly Star of Massacre that emanated from her soul began to slowly fill my senses.

“I’ll ask one last time. Where is the stolen sacred object?”

“Do I really need to answer?”

“Answer the question directly.”

I raised one side of my mouth in a smirk.

“That thing?”

I’d feigned ignorance moderately earlier, but with the situation having escalated to this point, it was no longer a problem I could avoid.

I knew from the very first moment I absorbed the Rune of Time that a situation like this would arise.

Since things had come this far anyway, it was better to be honest.

With Arkan watching from the side, trying to get out of the situation with lies wasn’t exactly a wise option either.

Therefore, I recited the prepared answer as is.

“I used it.”

“…What?”

“I said I used it. I, personally.”

What else could I do?

I had no choice but to play hardball.

That’s what I was intending to do.

“Ha.”

Wooom.

Above her right palm, a spiraling orb of a sharp, blue light – like a miniature star – materialized.

And.

“The price for nonsense is your life.”

Pajijijijik!!

The spiraling orb scattered into the open sky.

It pulsed with intense electrical waves as it floated in the air.

An endless spin, the acceleration mounting, the aftermath of its waves scything and swallowing the ground.

*KIEEEEEEEEEK!!*

Enduring an ear-splitting screech, a tinnitus that threatened to shatter my skull, I raised my head.

From the tip of a flashing cerulean light, dozens of beams of light condensed into a single point.

It compressed.

Tore through space.

Pierced through.

*KWaaaNG!!*

A deluge of azure bombardment swept the very spot where I stood.

*KWAGWAGWAGWANG!!*

Where the torrent of lightning struck, only a colossal scorch mark remained; all else swept away and annihilated by the high-voltage current.

The Chieftain of the White-Haired Tribe, Arkaban.

Naturally, she believed this was the end.

A bombardment unleashed with five fully activated White Rings – the unique tribal trait that amplified the potency of their magic.

Not only that, but…

*KWANG!! KWANG!! KWANG!!*

Following her strike, a chain reaction of bombardments from her kin rained down.

Though the thick dust obscured the view, it was self-evident that survival was impossible.

Adina, born with innate magical resistance, might have survived, but not otherwise.

Even if one deployed some peculiar defensive technique.

Because the source of all energy ultimately stemmed from magic, and the White-Haired Tribe’s magic possessed the predatory trait of devouring an opponent’s own.

The mightiest spear that pierced through any defense—that was the White-Haired Tribe’s pride.

Yes.

Surely, it had to be so.

“…What?”

A dark silhouette emerged from the dust cloud.

They stood perfectly intact, not a single thread of their garments disarrayed, as if untouched.

Before them, a scene unfolded as if time itself had frozen.

The flashing blue bombardment, which had been pouring down, remained suspended in mid-air, and the magic of the tribe members that followed was similarly halted.

The dust motes, sprung into the air, and the shimmer born of electric shock, all were frozen in place.

As if the very flow of time had solidified.

All things wrought of mana, suspended in the void, like specimens pinned for display.

Arkhaban, without conscious thought, could only gape.

Incomprehensible. A jolt straight to the core.

To hold mana-woven currents in the empty air, this was not mere deflection; the difference ran far too deep.

Through this uncanny tableau, the man before her slowly commenced to walk.

Thump-thump.

One step.

Another.

He stood before the stunned Arkhaban, gazing straight into the twin pools of her eyes.

“Didn’t I say?”

And, with languid deliberation, he parted his lips.

“That you are the one soiling the clan’s face.”

Beneath his right eye, the tattoo pulsed with a cerulean light.

The place where the rune of time was etched.