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Anagin Chronicles Chapter 19

Novel: Anagin Chronicles Author: Jolynejoestar Updated:
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Now reading: Chapter 19 from Anagin Chronicles, a Action novel by Jolynejoestar.

Chapter 19. The Eternal Apprentice (3)

“Oh-ho! Doesn’t sound like a joke!”

The ponytail man chuckled as though he’d just heard a funny story.

But it wasn’t funny. He was startled.

Beat Periphetes to death?

Sensing sothing off, Anagin said,

“I don’t joke about things like that.”

“Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m saying—don’t do it. Not if you don’t want your life to get complicated.”

“So, he’s really that strong?”

Anagin’s tone implied he already suspected as much.

That Longbald from before… definitely not ordinary.

His condition, his gait, his presence—he was a seasoned fighter.

At least among all the people Anagin had t since leaving ho, he was the strongest.

“Strong? Of course. He’s an officer of the Forest Brotherhood.”

“Forest Brotherhood? What’s that?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“I don’t bother learning about things I’m not interested in. Though I’m interested now.”

“Good for you. Anyway, it’s a relief you’re showing so interest now. You don’t want to get on bad terms with them—it gets ssy.”

“What are they, a nation? Or a practitioner clan?”

Anagin asked, recalling his master's words.

Once you set out on a practitioner’s path, you’ll cross the territories of nations and clans alike. If you don’t want trouble, best not to clash with them. Unless, of course, you don’t mind the trouble.

“They’re not a nation, but even nations get headaches over them. They’re a bandit federation—one that spans all of Hellas.”

A bandit federation spanning the very center of the world, ruled by the gods, Hellas.

Anyone else would’ve been shocked by the scale. Anagin, however, fixated on one word—bandits.

“Bandits? I know what that is. Two-legged beasts that hide in mountains and rob travelers, right?”

“Not wrong, but you might wanna watch your mouth. Any bandit who hears that’ll take offense.”

“So they’re the type who get mad at the truth, huh?”

“The important part isn’t the truth. It’s that there are a lot of them. Most forests and mountains in Hellas are basically their front yard. Lately, they’ve even been expanding into Anapik. Know what that ans?”

“No.”

“It ans if you piss them off for no reason, you’ll regret it. You’re a practitioner, right? You’ll be wandering all over the place—don’t tell you wanna fight ard bandits every ti you step outside?”

The ponytail man was speaking plain common sense.

Practitioners—especially those from Gigant—were far stronger and more durable than ordinary people. But still, they were human.

Even Gigants had to eat, bathe, sleep, and occasionally rest.

So getting ambushed every ti they left a city? Not exactly pleasant.

That’s why most practitioners avoided open conflict with the Forest Brotherhood. If any did, it was on a small, local scale.

“The organization is huge and spread out like poison mushrooms—hard to uproot. Plus, so of their officers are really strong.”

“Like that Longbald from earlier?”

The ponytail man nodded.

“He’s Periphetes the Club. A fixer from the Forest Brotherhood, infamous for beating promising practitioners to death with his club. I don’t know why, but if you don’t wanna suffer, don’t fight him.”

He offered the advice sincerely. Their first eting hadn’t gone well, but Anagin was entertaining company—he didn’t want the guy dead so soon.

But Anagin’s attitude hadn’t changed at all.

“I don’t know. I don’t want trouble either, but if we et again, I’ll probably beat him to death.”

"Why, though, exactly?"

“Just a feeling. He looks like trouble.”

“…….”

"Maybe it's because he's too tall. I hate looking up at people... Or maybe it's because he's bald. I hate bald people."

The ponytail man was horrified by the madness of it.

Killing soone just because they're tall. Of course, killing them for being bald wasn't much better!

“Good thing I’m of average height. And my hair’s nice and full. Anyway, I’ll tell you this—you keep living like that, you won’t live long.”

“Ha!”

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s a stupid thing to say. If I wanted to live long, I wouldn’t have beco a practitioner.”

The ponytail man was montarily speechless.

He was right. Practitioners weren’t the kind of people who sought longevity. If they did, they’d have beco farrs.

A practitioner set a goal—and was willing to walk through fire to reach it.

For a practitioner, the road only led to two outcos: success or death.

Living long? That was, in a way, failure—sothing worse than death. It ant being a fraud, neither here nor there.

Still, the ponytail man found Anagin’s words striking. In these tis, such an attitude was rare.

It wasn’t that true practitioners didn’t exist anymore. It’s just that most people these days prefer to receive a modest blessing from a god, earn so comfort, wealth, and fa, and live easy lives.

Maybe that’s why?

The ponytail man suddenly found himself curious. Sothing he normally wouldn’t have cared about at all.

“What’s your goal, then?”

“Huh?”

“As a practitioner, I an. What’s your goal?”

“God.”

Anagin answered without a trace of hesitation.

“What?”

“I’m going to beco a god. That’s the goal I set for myself.”

“……”

The ponytail man was stunned into silence.

He’d never seen a practitioner say sothing like that so boldly.

It wasn’t bravado, nor so thoughtless remark. Those eyes… they truly belonged to soone aiming for godhood.

For the first ti in a long while, the ponytail man’s heart raced with excitent—like the reporter for Talaria Weekly he technically was.

Even if he was still an eternal apprentice, this was definitely sothing worth writing about.

* * *

After each of them gathered their spoils, Anagin returned to the Ruin Village with the ponytail man.

Ah—correction. More precisely, he returned to the place that had been the Ruin Village.

While Anagin had been away, quite a few people had already abandoned the ruined village and left.

People were still leaving even at that mont.

The innkeeper, the shopkeeper, the blacksmith, the traveling rchant couple, and so on.

The Ruin Village had been a makeshift traders’ town, and like that, it vanished in an instant.

“There’s nothing to be done. For rchants like us, ti is money.”

The short butcher who’d been watching the departing people ca up to Anagin.

He seed to be trying to justify himself, reading sothing in Anagin’s expression as he spoke.

“Right now, it’s in your best interest to leave as soon as possible. If word gets out that sothing happened here, every riffraff will swarm in like flies.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited advice. But you aren’t leaving? Still got business here, then?”

The ponytail man cut in.

“I’m staying to do business with you. You said so yourself.”

“That’s right.”

The short butcher admitted it and pointed to one side.

There were nurous graves there, and more were still being dug. They were the victims of the Monster rchant—kids and others with no one to bury them.

“As you requested, I buried them all. So now I want to talk about the monster carcasses you caught, as promised.”

“You say you want to talk, but you already seem to be at work?”

Anagin pointed to the riverbank below the graves and to a large new tent set up there.

Under that newly erected tent, butchers from the Ruin Village had gathered to process the monster carcasses.

Skinning them, removing the entrails, cutting them into parts—big work that reddened the river and filled the air with a foul tallic stench.

“I apologize for that. If we’d left the bodies as they were, they’d rot… If you don’t want to sell them, I’ll return the processed pieces to you.”

“Even the kids are working.”

Anagin said this as he walked around the tent and watched the kids running errands—those sa little ones who had been hawking by the riverbank.

“There’s a lot of work, so we need hands….”

“Sounds like an ulterior motive. Quoting you, I can hear the gears turning.”

The ponytail man teased, slipping in.

At that remark, the short butcher couldn’t deny it and ground his teeth.

That much proved the ponytail man had accurately read what was in the butcher’s heart.

The butcher swore quietly to himself and tried to think of how to talk his way out of it.

Then Anagin made an unexpected remark.

“If you say you’ll buy them, do you actually have the money to pay?”

“…To be honest, I don’t.”

Startled, the short butcher answered a beat late. For so reason—perhaps a hunch—he didn’t try to talk his way out and told the truth.

“It’s true we profited from the Ruin Village, but even so, I don’t have the funds to buy that much at once. If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be wandering around to begin with.”

“Then how do you expect to pay?”

The short butcher swallowed at the biggest deal of his life.

“On credit. I want to buy on credit.”

“On credit?”

"It ans paying the price for the goods later."

“I know what buying on credit ans. I know it’s risky.”

“Because there’s a chance of getting stiffed.”

"I won't deny what that annoying ponytail man says. Credit transactions are dangerous."

The short butcher pointed at the ponytail man and admitted it. He really wanted to hit him.

"And yet, you still want to proceed with credit?"

“I have no other option. Of course, I'm not just asking for it outright. I propose that I—”

“—All right. I’ll sell it on credit.”

“What?”

The short butcher asked again, surprised at Anagin’s words. Had he heard correctly?

“You heard . I’ll sell it on credit.”

“…Are you serious?”

“I bullshit, but I don't lie. However, there is a condition.”

Anagin pointed to the kids running errands at the butchery.

“You looked like you were keeping the kids around to curry favor. If you’re going to do it, do it properly. Then I’ll sell it on credit.”

“…….”

The short butcher stared at Anagin with his mouth open.

It was true he’d taken care of the kids, hoping that burying them would help negotiations—but he hadn’t expected the other side to bring this up first.

How to put it? It was beyond what he’d imagined. He was stunned.

"What? You don't want to?"

“No, it’s good. It’s a much more profitable deal.”

“That’s a relief.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised.”

“Surprised by what all of a sudden?”

“When I first saw you, I thought you were just so clueless practitioner, but you’re actually more heroic than I expected.”

“? ?”

Anagin frowned. The butcher nodded without caring.

“That’s right. There are practitioners who do small charitable acts just to seem heroic, but there aren’t many who’d just make a deal like this for orphaned kids.”

“Ah… I guess it might look like that. But no. I’m just doing it to feel better.”

“?”

“I might not have noticed if I hadn’t seen them. But seeing them and leaving them to die would make feel uneasy. That’s why I entrusted them to you instead of dealing with it myself. That way, I don’t have to feel bad.

Anagin had buried the people from his ho village for a similar reason. Not purely out of mourning, but because not burying them would make him uncomfortable.

Mourning and discomfort….

They didn’t look much different, but the subject was different. Is it about them, or about ? Anagin always placed himself at the center—his feelings.

“Huh—!”

Hearing the answer, the short butcher laughed out loud—an unpleasant laugh.

“What’s so funny? Makes want to hit you.”

“I understand. It’s been a while since I t a practitioner I like.”

“You’re getting short with your words again?”

“So you’re going to hit ?”

Anagin hesitated and shook his head.

He was already speaking casually; being struck just because the other spoke casually didn’t seem right.

“When you run a monster butchery, you et a lot of practitioners whether you want to or not.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Still, listen.”

“…….”

“Practitioners may look similar at a glance, but there are many kinds. Different temperants, different thods. So are greedy, so are possessed by strange senses of duty. Which do you think lasts longer?”

“I don’t care.”

“Greedy ones last longer. Those who think they’re sacrificing themselves don’t last, or they change strangely. From soone who trades like , greedy folks are preferable. Even if they’re unpleasant, you can keep trading with them longer. Even if they don’t make big deals…”

Anagin tilted his head, not understanding the last part.

They don’t make big deals? Did he an greedy people won’t make generous, big trades?

“In that sense, you’re starting to grow on . You’re plain and simple…. Fine, I’ll take responsibility and look after those kids. I’ll give them work and teach them a trade so they can stand on their own. We’re short-handed anyway!”

The short butcher declared loudly, then dragged Anagin over to the tent and cheerfully wrote up the credit receipt.

That wasn’t all.

“As thanks for your help, take this. I’m not the type to show gratitude with just words.”

The short butcher handed Anagin a thick, heavy-looking sword.

It was a longsword, slightly shorter than the butcher’s own height. The grip was wrapped in worn, smooth bandages, clearly old. Letters were etched into the gleaming blade:

「I strip the hides of beasts, carve their flesh, and cleave their bones.」

“A magic weapon.”

The ponytail man remarked, eyeing the sword.

“Beast Cleaver. It’s a magic sword imbued with Yeom, which makes it easier to carve through monsters and beasts. Take it.”

Anagin accepted it without hesitation.

It was tily—his old sword, scavenged from Bender, had broken not long ago.

The butcher added.

“It’s a magic sword, sure, but don’t expect it to slice through every monster like cheese. It just makes cutting a little easier.”

“That’s enough.”

Anagin examined the longsword and replied. Whether it was truly enchanted or not, he felt confident it would handle monsters well.

“You’ll be leaving soon, too, right? Where to?”

Anagin moistened his finger with saliva and held it up slightly.

“That way. Because that’s where the wind’s blowing.”

“If you ever stop by a town and need help, show that sword to the local City Lord. He knows .”

Anagin, who had accepted the sword without hesitation, paused for a mont.

The butcher hadn’t just given him a good weapon—he had provided a form of identity guarantee.

“Are you serious?”

Anagin asked, knowing that even soone from the wilderness like him couldn’t easily have his identity vouched for.

In fact, living out in the wilderness made him understand it better—because when trouble arose, the one who vouched for you usually paid the price.

“Think of it as an investnt, pay back when you make it big.”

It wasn’t unheard of.

Sotis a promising practitioner who’d saved a town would be treated lavishly—or even offered a daughter for a night.

If they actually beca soone important later, the patron would reap the fa. So, as gambles went, it wasn’t a bad one.

Anagin looked over the sword once more and fastened it to his waist.

“I’ll do as I please.”

“As you please.”

Anagin nodded, then turned and started walking in the direction the wind blew.

“You’re leaving already?”

“The job’s done. No reason to stay.”

He said it simply—and left without hesitation.

No farewells to the ponytail man or the short butcher.

The two just stood there in silence, watching Anagin’s back as he disappeared from sight.

* * *

Not only that.

Soon after Anagin left, swarms of scavengers began to show up at the Ruin Village.

Like flies and beasts that gather where corpses lie, they ca to see if there was anything to pick over.

In truth, there was plenty to eat.

The huge pile of monster carcasses Anagin left behind was a pri target.

But most of them went away empty-handed.

The butchers, rallied around the short butcher, had set up a makeshift fort and were prepared for this; they’d seen this sort of thing before and had everything ready. Most of the scavengers had to leave with nothing.

“Aren’t you going to leave, then?”

After a long spell of work, the short butcher ca out to rest and called to the ponytail man, who was lazing about nearby.

He was still camped there even after Anagin had gone.

“Ah, what’s the matter? I told you I’m waiting for soone. You already paid —don’t be so stingy.”

The short butcher looked puzzled. Who on earth was he waiting for? Was he planning to steal sothing? That didn’t quite fit either.

“Hey! More riffraff have co!”

As the ponytail man and the short butcher talked, a butcher on watch ca running up to report.

He looked tense—this group of raiders wasn’t the usual petty sort.

When the short butcher went to see for himself, it was obvious the man was right.

Unlike the other scavengers who ca for scraps, these raiders looked like they ant business.

There were dozens of them, and their armant was quite decent.

They were the kind who had properly caught the scent of money. There might even be a Gigant among them.

“You don’t an those are who you’re waiting for, do you?”

Seeing the organized raiders, the short butcher glanced at the ponytail man with suspicion.

The ponytail man shook his head calmly.

“I didn’t call those kinds. If you want sothing, steal it—why go and pillage like savages?”

Saying that so blithely sohow lent it credibility.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, the other butchers also stopped their work and rushed out.

Monster butchers were all tough individuals who had to protect their own bodies from monsters, but these newcors were clearly not to be ignored.

“Oi!”

The man who looked like their leader stepped forward.

He wore thick armor from head to toe.

"I heard there was chaos here. Is everyone safe?"

“We’re fine. Until you lot showed up! What business do you have here?!"

“We’ve co to share your haul!!”

The raider shouted brazenly.

"I hear there's a large amount of monster carcasses here?"

“And if there is?”

“Too much wealth brings trouble! We’ll take half! Sell us half of that load! We won’t be unfair about it!!”

They weren’t ordinary thieves. They weren’t asking—they were demanding. They’d clearly done this before.

But the short butcher had dealt with this sort of brazen behavior many tis.

He hefted his great sword onto his shoulder, stepped forward, and shouted.

“Cut the crap! We’ll decide what’s ours and what’s not! Either back off quietly or drop the act and show your true colors!!”

If they’d been ordinary raiders, they might have faltered under that roar. But these ones just smiled, as if they’d co fully prepared.

“If that’s how you want it, so be it! But rember—you started this fight!!”

Just as the leader and his n began to move forward—

“Excuse .”

A light breeze passed through, and a woman appeared right between the butchers and the raiders.

“……”

“……”

Both sides froze at the sudden sight of her.

She wore the winged shoes ‘Talaria’ and the winged hat ‘Petasos,’ the very symbols of Talaria Weekly, which explained their reaction.”

A journalist of Talaria Weekly.

A person blessed and protected by Hers himself.

To those who lived with their feet on the ground, she was a rare being from the heavenly realm. Her sudden appearance froze two groups that only monts ago seed ready to clash.

“Before you fight, does anyone here know what happened?”

Silence fell.

Then one man, with a lazy grin, raised his hand.

“! I do!”

It was the ponytail man.

“You…”

The woman’s eyes widened—she recognized him. Of course she did. The ponytail man was also a reporter of Talaria Weekly, one of those blessed by Hers.

Though, to be exact, an eternal apprentice, still stuck at the bottom due to sheer lack of motivation.

“Long ti no see, sis.”

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

Her surprise was genuine. To think that the man who squandered the god’s blessing on thievery, scams, and womanizing was actually here, of all places—it was shocking.

Even inside Talaria Weekly, there were rumors asking why he hadn’t been fired yet.

“I can’t slack off forever, can I?”

“So you really know what happened here?”

“Yeah. A Monster rchant built a fake Ruin and tried to devour everyone.”

"Oh dear."

“This is Anapik, right? The borderland between barbarism and civilization. Crazy things happen here. But he failed—thanks to a practitioner who hasn’t even earned a single Star.”

“Really?!”

The woman’s eyes lit up. Stars mark a practitioner’s rank, awarded according to their ability.

A practitioner with no Star—soone not even chosen by the gods—had taken down a notorious Monster rchant?

That was headline material.

“Of course it’s true. You think I’d be hanging around this dull place if I were making it up?”

“Who was it?”

“Anagin. A practitioner who seeks to beco a god by his own power. What do you think? Exciting, right?”

__________________

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(T/N): Damn, what a long chapter lol

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