The Academy’s Barbarian

Chapter 66.2 - Let The Hunt Begin (3)

Chapter 66.2 - Let The Hunt Begin (3)

Some time thereafter, the rain that had been gradually tapering off finally ceased completely as evening descended. In response, Rameel Birman, an agent affiliated with the Special Operations Unit, resumed his patrol on the outskirts.

Rameel Birman was an intermediate-level mage, specializing in wind-based magic. For this mission, he was tasked with traveling through the forest at the speed of the wind, scanning for any potential threats with the speed and grace of the wind itself.

"Damn, what a cursed weather," he muttered, akin to the tropical rainforests in the east.

The incessant rain had ceased, but the humidity had risen to an uncomfortable level. Curses involuntarily escaped his lips. Just then, a gust of wind swept through.

Saaaaaaah!

Suddenly, he felt mana, a spell cast by Walter, a Advanced-level mage and the leader of their squad.

Eastern perimeter patrol is concluded.

The northern perimeter as well.

Voices of his companion reached him shortly. Walter then inquired of Rameel.

Rameell, how are you doing?

"Yay, it's nearly finished here too," he replied, although he had only just begun the patrol. Since they couldn't precisely determine his positions, Rameel blurted out.

After that round of reporting, Wilter asked again.

What about Dilia Arpen?

Camilla has her under surveillance.

Dilia Arpen.

The name made Rameel furrow his brow because she was the reason the Special Operations Unit had been assigned this escort mission.

To be precise, it was a directive from Dean Deflyn. She ordered observation and protection for Dilia Arpen.

"The Dean is truly overprotective."

The forest was adjacent to the academy, and only monsters of 2-star or lower inhabited the area. Why, then, deploy a squad of five for a mission here? Moreover, she was Blessed by Mana, an unprecedented powerhouse transcending even advanced mages in magical prowess.

As he grumbled about this, another order was issued.

Alright, then. Let's regroup at the temporary base in 30 minutes, precisely at 8 PM. I'll readjust the rotation and standby orders.

Camilla, understood.

Yuan, confirmed.

With the summon order given, Rameel confirmed, stopping in his tracks. After confirming the release of Walter's magic, he mumbled with a disgruntled expression, "It'll be the same no matter how much we go around."

He should probably get back. What could possibly go wrong?

Just As he was about to turn around with a complacent thought, Rameel's shoulders twitched and shook for an instant.

...the scent of blood.

Not monster blood, but human blood.

He stiffened and looked around, trying to find the source. Suddenly, he spotted something unusual in the distance.

That's.......

A blurry human figure.

Upon closer inspection, it appeared like a man wrapped in ashen robes. Narrowing his eyes, Rameel shifted his feet slightly, trying not to look alarmed.

No, he was going to.

However, in that moment

"Fresh ingredients have found their way to me."

an eerie voice echoed from above; a voice akin to a knife scraping across a griddle.

Along with the unpleasant voice, five shadows closed in, encircling him.

'How did they...!'

He hadn't sensed their presence at all.

As Rameel's face stiffened, the ashen-robed figure he'd first seen was now within sight.

The moment he removed his hood

Rameel's eyes widened.

"......!?"

He was a grotesque creature; his skin was bloodlessly pale, and his gnarled teeth were lined with rotting flesh. And where the eyes should have been, there were only empty sockets. The most shocking were the human eyeballs dangling from a necklace around the figure's neck.

The moment he concluded his detailed observation, Rameel sensed the true identity of his adversary.

"......The Abyss Worshipper!"

Crazy mages who had forsaken their humanity. Their common characteristic was the grotesque and horrifying appearance, much like the man before Rameel now.

Feeling a shiver run down his spine, Rameel hastily stepped back. Theres no chance of winning like this! He was outgunned and outnumbered.

The immediate course of action was to retreat and face them alongside his companions. With that decision made, he immediately activated a Haste spell. To run away from the spot.

But nothing happened.

The mana solidified like a rock, unmoving, and the spell formula was incomplete. Bewildered, Rameel exclaimed, "Huh, why doesn't the magic......!"

"Not working?"

That's when the Worshipper leaned in; He laughed, bouncing the eyeballs on his necklace around, "That's because you met my eyes."

He didn't know the details, but those eyeballs were probably what interfered with the magic. Rameel's face grew paler and paler.

At that instant, the Worshipper grabbed Rameel's face.

Squelch! Squaaak!

A vicious grip.

As a scream escaped his lips, the whisper of the Worshipper reached his ears.

"By the way, your eyes are so pretty, too. Radiant like the sea. I like them a lot."

"Now, wait! You can't possibly"

"I'll take them for myself."

With a mocking announcement, he plucked Rameel's eyeballs right out of his eye socket.

Both of them.

"Aaah! Aaargh!"

The excruciating pain of having his eyes gouged out while he was alive.

Unable to endure, Rameel screamed, and as a signal

the other Worshippers crept closer; with sharpened knives.

"Well then, the finger is mine."

"Tongue, tongue, tongue! I'll cut it off!"

"Leave the heart. It's good to leave it while it's still beating."

With these chilling words

his body was soon torn into pieces; the screams of agony transformed into the final throes of death, and Rameel's breath ceased shortly thereafter.

Around the time his body was in tatters

the Worshiper who had gouged out Rameel's eyes grabbed his head, which lay there, and then inserted his sharp finger into his brain. He opened his lips, which had been tightly closed. It seems there are children in the forest, he said.

The Worshiper had read Rameel's memories. Meanwhile, the other worshipers showed interest.

"Children? How old do they look?"

About five years old would be good. They would be good as materials, and they would also be good to offer to the Abyss.

"No, they're not that young. They must be students at the Academy."

"The Academy? Could it be Arsene?"

Ugh, then let's just ignore them. I hate getting involved in noisy affairs.

The Arsene Academy.

At that word, the Worshippers shook their heads. It was understandable. Speaking of Arsene's students, half of them were children of noble families. There was no point in bothering with them; it would only lead to unnecessary fatigue.

However, the one who had been reading memories had a different opinion.

No, we must capture them.

"......what?"

We must capture them at all costs.

The Worshiper's voice was filled with power. His response was a laughter tinged with amusement, as if he had discovered a gold nugget in an unexpected place,The Abyss is looking for this sacrifice.

"What?"

That means...!

"Yes."

His lips curled up into a long smile, tearing smile. He breathed out the words with glee, "Blessed by Mana."

"......!?"

The moment he spoke these words, everyone's gaze changed. The indifferent reactions were gone, and strong feelings of greed and obsession filled their eyes.

"If you can make an offering, it's a considerable gain. Perhaps we might receive the Abyss's grace much sooner than anticipated."

As soon as he had extracted all memories, the Worshipers erupted in exclamations.

"L-let's go! Right now!"

"Good. Then it's worth the risk."

"Now that it's come to this, let's capture other students too."

"It's better if there are no witnesses."

The consensus was unanimous.

It was a moment when a new objective was decided.

"Alright, Let the hunt begin."

The Worshiper threw Rameel's head.

It rolled in a heap and soon emitted a puff of smoke before dissolving into nothingness.

And with that signal

the Abyss Worshipers all concealed their presence.

The forest once again fell into silence, as if no one had been there from the beginning.

(End of Chapter. . . . . . . .Thanks for Reading. . . . . . . . . )

Translator's Notes:-

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