This World Needs a Hero

Chapter 152

Chapter 152

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With narrow eyes, Dorempa looked down at the landscape below.

Woo-woo-woo-woo-woong!

Clouds that seemed close enough to touch were crossing numerous peaks.

Rugged and rough rocky mountains.

Faint mist drifted below them.

Well, looks like theres more to report to the leader.

It was then, as the savage Hero, heavily painted for battle, thrust his face in front of him.

Dorempa remained silent, displeased with the excited demeanor.

But he didnt pay heed to the silence.

Well, am I quite competent, huh? Ive been stuck up north investigating the Stagnum prison break, got to know the local geography better than the natives.

Dorempa didnt respond, turning his gaze downwards again.

As the mist dispersed.

Buildings, appearing toy-like, came into view on the edge of vision.

Another northern factory.

If Ivar hadnt meticulously recorded the movements of the Demonic Church.

And if he couldnt fly.

Facilities so well-hidden that they could never have been discovered.

Dorempa finally spoke.

Like cockroaches.

Well, anything else to wait for? Lets sweep them away.

Kugugu-

Ivar rose slowly, trembling with excitement.

Dorempa watched him intently.

Encountering a human of similar stature was a first for him.

Ivar Waitanka, the giant god.

Known among tribes as the Roaring Wind.

But if someone saw Ivar for the first time, they would be more reminded of a rock than the wind.

Gigantic, solid, and rough as a rock.

The natives of the Great Mountain Range were different in physique from ordinary humans.

It would be more appropriate to consider them demi-human.

Much thicker skeletons and incredibly tough muscles.

Naturally, they possessed immense strength.

The secret to their survival in the Great Mountain Range, teeming with demons, for so long.

Even the non-combatants among them, children and the elderly, were stronger than ordinary imperial adult males.

And among them, Ivar was a leading Hero

Did they say that he was a powerful martial artist who could rival even the entire Knights of Dawn?

Dorempa felt a faint emotion stirring in his heart, something he had forgotten.

A sense of rivalry.

There had been a time when he couldnt control this intense and burning flame

But now, it didnt matter.

Chieftain, may I lead the charge?

?

I know youre angry because the demi-humans are being captured, but I also hate them in the same way.

How could a human who couldnt even fly lead the charge?

Dorempa pondered this question as he observed Ivar preparing for battle.

Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-

Somehow, a strange sound emanated from him.

That noise soon became a roar that echoed throughout the mountain peaks.

To the members of the Demonic Church on the ground, it would sound like the mountains were groaning under fierce winds.

No, in fact, a storm was engulfing Ivar.

Aaaah-!

With a rough gasp, Ivars body trembled uncontrollably with ferocity.

And then, in the next moment.

Ivar suddenly flew off the cliff.

Kwahng-!

Splash-!

With what powerful force he struck the ground, the rocky surface cracked.

Here we go!

His body, which had been hovering in the air for a moment, plummeted downwards like an arrow.

It was like the movements of a hawk targeting its prey.

Zzjjjick-!

As his body twisted, the wind and air surrounding him created a deafening noise, amplifying the sound of the tearing cloth hundreds of times over, echoing through the rocky mountains.

Ivars brave roar mingled in between.

The sky, sharp rocky mountains, mist, clouds, and enemies.

Everything in sight was mixed up in chaos.

At the moment when the chaos reached its peak.

The landing followed.

Kwaaaaaang-!

Like a meteor, Ivar landed squarely in the center of the factory.

The members of the Demonic Church, each wielding their weapons, were forming a siege.

Intruder!

Kill him!

While the factory was smaller in scale than what the Hero had previously subdued, there were more guards.

Probably because it was a location where people didnt usually come and go.

And the troops consisted not of undead led by necromancers but armed humans and tamed demons.

Enemies leaping towards the center of the crater.

The space was quickly filled with flying projectiles and the foul mouths of the demons.

But Ivar charged at them without hesitation, using his fists.

I will crush and destroy you all!

Strictly speaking, it wasnt just his fists.

The blurry shape of the wind swirled around his right arm.

The gale turned into blades, hammers, and literally crushed the enemies.

Dorempa watched the scene from several meters above.

It reminded him of his kin fighting with determination and instinct, but Ivars ferocity was of a much more savage kind.

Kwaaaaaak!

The overwhelming slaughter continued.

Ivar pierced through armor with his fingers, causing blood to spurt out, and with his fists, he halved the height of his opponents.

Most weapons were deflected by the wind protecting Ivars body, unable to even touch him.

The most surprising thing was that at some point, Ivar had taken out a video artifact.

From the beginning of the battle, he had been using only his right hand, while his left hand vividly recorded the battle.

It seemed as if he intended to show the footage to someone.

Jjuuru-

The surface of the video bead was gradually covered with splattering blood, sliding down.

But no matter how obscured, the image of Ivars raging form would be clearly captured.

So strong.

Dorempa protected the demi-human prisoners, who were terrified, with an ice wall, watching Ivars fierce movements.

Kwaaaaaang-!

As his resilient body shot the wind-encased fist forward several times, the bodies of the Demonic Church members and the demons who attacked them burst apart from the air pressure.

Without any further incident, the factory grounds fell silent.

Hoo, hoo.

Ivar stood still, his sweat-drenched upper body tinged with blood.

Dorempa slowly spoke up.

Do you hold a grudge?

Was there anyone who didnt, exist in this era?

Amidst the breaths pouring out from his lungs, a deep-seated hatred could be felt.

All my tribesmen were torn apart and killed. As the tribe chieftain, you would understand my feelings.

A self-deprecating smile.

Yellowed teeth peeked through thick lips.

But it was only for a moment.

Ivar returned to his cheerful demeanor from a few minutes ago.

So, how was it? Am I quite strong?

Dorempa naturally imagined the fight between himself and Ivar in his mind.

And he replied.

Youre weaker than me.

Ivar seemed disappointed, as if he hadnt expected such an answer.

I hope we can fight someday.

Well.

Before receiving baptism, it would have been a good match.

* * *

Two hours before opening, the extreme bar was showing its bustle.

Cash compensation worth ten times the sales offered by the president.

Due to the already fiery festival enthusiasm, it was pouring oil on the flames.

However, that wasnt the end of it.

This morning, an additional notice was posted.

During the five-day festival, the Unir (department) that showed the most remarkable performance (sales, awards in various competitions, etc.) would receive an extraordinary reward directly from the Principal.

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It was a reward officially recognized by Glendor.

As there was no doubt it wouldnt be anything ordinary, the childrens enthusiasm was reaching the realm of madness.

Well be number one in sales! We can do it!

However, there was one unfortunate flaw in that bright outlook.

How does it taste?

Umm.

Most of them were nobles and had never even attempted cooking.

How does it taste?

Leciel and Gerald, who were assigned as cooks for the first day by drawing lots, looked at the tasters with hopeful eyes.

Having made efforts such as searching for recipes in the library for the past few days, they were confident.

And a moment later.

Tak-

The taster set down his utensils on the table and uttered a brief critique.

Youve got potential.

Ohh.

Youve got talent for ruining food!

Surprisingly, even Cuculli, who had claimed to eat demon meat without hesitation, refused further tasting.

It was a shock to Leciel and Gerald.

Of course, Cuculli was also somewhat shocked.

Muttering with a sullen expression, twitching her horn.

How can you turn these delicious ingredients into such tasteless food? This is talent, talent!

Gerald, in frustration, burst out angrily.

Ugh, then you try it!

Ban stopped him as he rushed towards him.

Gerald, take a deep breath and count to ten.

Heh, he cant count past five.

Aaaaah!

The children bumped their heads together with serious expressions.

Even if they put forward pretty and handsome people to act as attractions, ultimately, what determined the taverns sales was the food.

With the quality of the food like this, they would be thoroughly trampled by the other Uniyr in terms of sales.

Is there anything edible?

Youre stammering after a long time, Ban.

After taking a bite of Leciels food, Ban made a face and then offered another opinion, but it was hard to trust.

Karen, who had been tearing her hair out (she was in charge of the tavern), eventually resigned herself and poked Lukes side.

Since its come to this, go enter the cross-dressing contest and earn some points.

?

Its a sacrifice for the greater good.

It was at the moment when Lukes terrible imagination unfolded that a savior that no one expected appeared.

Thunk-

Approaching the discouraged chefs like a ghost, she began to gently scold them.

Gerald, care to explain why you adjusted the fire like that?

Gerald confidently replied.

Its better to finish quickly with a strong fire than to grill for 10 minutes over low heat, isnt it?

Why did you think that?

What if the orders start piling up while were dilly-dallying?

Are you going to jump out of the window just because it takes longer to go down the stairs?

Umm.

Nyhill, who had convinced Gerald in one go, turned to face Leciel.

Leciel, with narrowed eyes, looked at the short-haired girl.

It was an unusual sight to see the usually silent girl suddenly stepping forward.

Whats the reason for cutting the avocado with seeds?

Because its easier to slice?

Everyone was momentarily speechless at the foolish remark typical of someone who only knows how to swing a sword.

But Nyhill spoke as gently as ever.

Dont do that next time. Got it?

Yeah.

Nyhill.

She received an inexplicable mission from the Hero a few days ago to enjoy the festival.

But watching over the childrens tavern preparations was torture for her.

She had lived in Harlem until she was ten years old, where every meal was precious and akin to a matter of life and death in poverty-stricken streets.

Moreover, since leaving Harlem, she had endured exhausting training from the ruthless instructors, who threw a piece of bread and asked her to fight for her life.

Nyhill naturally became sensitive to food wastage, and even with her agents restraint, it wasnt easy to suppress it.

Shall I show you?

Tadadadada-

With flashy movements, the dagger deftly trimmed various ingredients to their proper use.

Simple explanations of how to cook followed.

It was a very easy task for Nyhill, who had managed to solve meals in various tactical situations, but to the children, it seemed like magic, like a miracle.

Huh?

Cucullis eyes sparkled as she was taking a step back.

Her interested gaze lingered on the dagger Nyhill was holding.

Since Gerald had handled the kitchen knife so roughly that his teeth fell out, it was being used as a substitute.

Hmm, whats that?

It was a dagger into which Nubelmag had embedded a spirit stone.

Cucullis footsteps abruptly stopped as she tried to sneak closer to take a closer look.

She sensed someones presence at the entrance.

Oh, Professors here!

Before the other children could react, Cuculli grabbed a plate of food from the table and eagerly approached the Hero.

Professor! This is the food Leciel made, would you like to try it?

Hey, wait a minute!

The Hero, who had been gazing admiringly at Nyhill surrounded by the children, was taken aback by the sudden offer and shifted his gaze.

The plate of food held out before him.

Someone is offering him food.

In fact, it was a very special and rare event for the Hero.

Having wandered alone in the frontier for many years, he had always managed to scrape by for meals.

There was a reason why he vividly remembered Dorempa grilling rabbit meat (although he mostly ate it himself).

Furthermore, it was his disciples cooking.

There was no reason to refuse.

Ill eat it gladly.

The Hero willingly picked up the utensils.

Oh my goodness.

Halo, its an eclipse halo!

He almost lost his temper and used a salvation formula against his disciple.

.

.

.

And so, after the twists and turns of preparation, the long-awaited business hours began.

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