Chapter 15: Surabar (1)

The monster wreaking havoc at the Tishinos River, forcing vital ships to halt, was none other than a colossal electric eel.

The moment I saw it, my breath caught in my throat.

Can you even call this an eel?

Its size was staggering, but that wasn’t the worst part—it could shoot electricity in all directions.

What the hell? How are mercenaries like us supposed to catch this thing? And for such a measly reward?

“Brute strength alone won’t take it down,” Surabar said, swallowing hard as he watched the creature leap from the river, swallowing a flock of migratory birds whole.

“It’s massive… Look at those floating fish. Touch that, and we’re done for. No chance to even scream,” Perdual said.

“It’s not something humans can handle,” Tenok added.

Neither Surabar nor I said anything, but we felt the same.

One glance told us this was a job thrown out in desperation, with notices scattered everywhere.

“Kuoong~”

Crackle! The eel unleashed electricity, and fish and crabs hidden deep in the river floated up, bellies exposed. This is insane.

“Boss, this is ridiculous,” I said.

“We can’t go back empty-handed,” Surabar replied.

He had no intention of backing down, even faced with that.

“This isn’t a job for mercenaries—it’s for an army!”

“Paramir, I get it, but we’re broke.”

Damn it. Our thin finances were holding us hostage.

“So, we’ve got to catch it?”

“Yeah.”

There was only one answer. No money meant we had to kill or haul that “eel” out of the river, one way or another.

Going back empty-handed wasn’t an option.

The neighboring lord who issued this job to mercenaries was absurd, and Maximilian, passing it to us, was just as bad.

I take back wanting to treat Maximilian better.

“Hey, Paramir, can’t you use your aura? One slash, and no matter how big it is, it’s done, right? You’re a swordmaster.”

“It’d work… but then everyone would know I’m a swordmaster.”

“Damn it, then how do we hunt that monster?”

Perdual’s question left me scratching my head. No clear solution came to mind.

A sharp mind makes life easier, but sadly, I’m not that bright.

What do we do? The boss says we’re broke, and he means it. If we don’t solve this, we’ll starve or take menial jobs. There aren’t many places that’d hire us… This is bad.

As Perdual said, an aura slash would end it quickly. But then what?

The Human Empire would pull every trick to recruit a new swordmaster. Regardless of my wish to stay with the Black Tails, they wouldn’t leave me alone.

And it wouldn’t just be me—those highborns’ shady schemes would target the whole group.

Using aura to cut down the eel frolicking in the river was a last, last resort.

“Not having a solution now doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Observe—every monster has a weakness. If anyone has an idea, speak up immediately,” Surabar said.

We all fell silent.

Yeah, when have we ever had easy jobs? When has monster hunting ever been simple?

It was business as usual, so despite the oversized electric eel, we quickly rallied our spirits.

Monsters are living creatures.

Like humans, they have weaknesses.

Find it, strike it, and end them.

Even before I joined, the Black Tails had hunted countless ferocious, near-impossible monsters. They were elite monster slayers.

When it came to hunting, nothing was impossible for Surabar and the Black Tails.

As I watched the eel swim “peacefully” in the river, an idea struck.

It thrives in water and rarely leaves it.

The river is its habitat, its natural shield. So, what if we drained the river?

Its size isn’t the issue—it’s the water making it hard to hunt. Drain it, and we can kill it without aura.

I had a plan.

“Boss.”

I shared my idea with Surabar.

“Not bad.”

For an oversized monster, an unconventional approach wasn’t a bad call.

The others were skeptical but agreed to try.

Lower the water level to choke it out. But first, we needed to negotiate with someone.

***

We sought out the person in charge.

A weasel-like clerk, furious that “tailed” mercenaries (not me, but still) barged into his office without permission, exploded.

“Tailed scum daring to enter without approval…”

“We didn’t have time to request permission, Lord Kaldor’s deputy. The monster in the Tishinos River is causing massive losses, isn’t it? We’re just acting swiftly on your request,” I said.

“…Fine. Let’s hear it.”

Barely containing his rage, the clerk listened.

I stepped forward.

“First, a word.”

I pointed out, one by one, how the contract’s details grossly misrepresented the monster.

“The creature described in the contract is far from reality.”

“So what? Slight discrepancies in a monster’s appearance or traits are standard in hunting contracts, aren’t they?”

“There’s a limit to ‘slight.’”

He was shameless, but I hadn’t planned to let it slide anyway. I abandoned any thought of accepting the meager reward “fairly.”

“In monster-hunting contracts, if the creature’s appearance or abilities are significantly misrepresented, the contract can be voided for the mercenaries’ safety and rights. It’s rare, but this case qualifies. We’ve won disputes like this in Mosul multiple times, just so you know.”

“What’s this…”

Ignoring his anger, I calmly and meticulously explained the discrepancies, as if to a child.

The size difference between the contract’s description and the monster dominating the Tishinos River. The unmentioned ability to shoot electricity in water. Its ability to breathe out of water for extended periods (unlike a purely aquatic monster).

He knew it wasn’t a minor oversight, but the clerk only flushed, unable to counter effectively.

At least he had a shred of conscience—those truly shameless wouldn’t even flinch.

“So what? The contract’s wrong, so you’ll walk away?”

“That’s not it.”

I shook my head.

Jasmine usually handled contract renegotiations.

I mentally patted myself on the back for observing her closely. I wasn’t perfect, but I could manage.

“Listen, Clerk. We all want that monstrous beast out of the river ASAP, don’t we?”

Grudging nod. He permitted me to continue.

“We need one thing from you.”

Our request was simple.

Close the upstream dam and artificially lower the river’s water level.

Once it’s low enough, we’d deal with the eel flopping on the riverbed.

“Close the dam? Do you know the manpower and cost involved? The price of mages!”

“Still better than ships stuck in port.”

I didn’t back down.

The days of mages costing a fortune were long gone.

Even we mercenaries knew that Violet Tower graduates now worked in towns, earning modest salaries.

Not war mages, but those trained in practical magic and basic alchemy for profit.

His excuse about costs was likely just pride—he didn’t want to bow to mages for this.

“Think carefully, Clerk.”

I reminded him of reality.

Your territory isn’t an autonomous domain like the Border Count’s. Your soldiers are just human guards for maintaining order.

To defeat that monster without adjusting the water level, you’d need a rare swordmaster or master-grade war mage. How long would it take to secure such talent?

Meanwhile, the ships, contracts, insurance, and penalties pile up exponentially daily. Who’s going to cover that? You?

Faced with these realities, the clerk paled and raised the white flag.

“Is there a better way?”

Grind… The clerk gritted his teeth at Surabar’s words.

“Do you know how absurd that is? Opening and closing the dam isn’t as simple as you think! The cost of those dam operators!”

“Ships can’t move because of that thing. Better to cut the water and kill it quickly. Unless you have an easier, faster way to hunt it?”

“Grr…!”

“If you don’t approve, we’re out of options.”

Surabar drove the point home.

If the clerk, in a fit of rage, told us to quit, we’d have no choice but to return to Mosul empty-handed.

“Do it! Do whatever you want! But mark my words, you tailed bastards… If you close the dam and still can’t kill that monster, you’ll pay!”

“Understood.”

“Get out!”

The clerk, refusing to look at us, waved us out.

But one thing remained.

Surabar pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it over.

“What’s this?”

“A revised contract. We were told it was a 100-meter eel, not a 300-meter electric monster. That’s a serious breach. We won’t proceed without a pay increase.”

“Damn it… Signed! Get out and tell the mages to cut the water! Do whatever these tailed scum want!”

At the clerk’s furious shout, officials scrambled toward the dam.

Surabar and I checked the increased payment and grinned. At least we wouldn’t return to Mosul with empty pockets.

***

The half-open dam gate slowly began to close.

Blocking the Tishinos River’s flow from north to south wasn’t too difficult.

The mages (fewer than ten, by my count) scurried around, panting, closing the dam gates.

It seemed they had to cast spells near the gates to operate them—no convenient button system yet.

“Quite a sight.”

Watching the water level drop as the dam closed was a rare spectacle.

Climbing to the hillside of some nameless mountain was worth it.

The hunt was tomorrow.

This wasn’t the only dam.

With multiple dams feeding the Tishinos, even with mages moving quickly, it’d take over a day to close them all.

Mana shortages slowed things further.

“Here you are.”

“Boss?”

I thought it was a woodcutter or herb gatherer, but it was Surabar, holding his massive war hammer.

Why’s he carrying that already? The eel hunt’s tomorrow.

“It’s quiet here, no people. You always liked secluded, peaceful places.”

What’s he getting at? Feeling uneasy, I stood.

Thud. Surabar set down his war hammer, causing the ground to sink slightly with a tremor.

Nicknamed the “war hammer,” it was huge, heavy, and perfect for crushing monstrous beasts beyond human limits.

He’d brought it for the forest troll hunt, though he didn’t use it.

Surabar was a freak among beastmen.

There’s a reason no one in the group dares challenge him.

A natural-born titan, like a tiger or lion.

Being a tiger beastman, it’s not just a metaphor—it’s fact.

“The water won’t fully drain until tomorrow. Until then, help me get stronger, Paramir.”

I was dumbfounded. What did he just say?