Chapter 17: Surabar (3)

The colossal electric eel monster.

Even draining the Tishinos River wouldn’t make killing it easy.

The best-case scenario would be the creature gasping, unable to breathe, and dying as the river dried up.

But that was impossible. We’d already seen it basking on the riverbank under the noon sun.

It could survive out of water for hours, a fact that worked against us.

“Where’d a monster like that come from?”

“Said it just appeared in the river one day after waking up.”

“What, a dimensional rift?”

“What else? Fell from the sky? Crawled from the earth?”

“Ugh.”

Tenok and I traded idle chatter while observing the beast.

Let’s review the target’s traits:

[Size: It’s massive—around 300 meters from head to tail.]

[Electricity: It emits electricity in all directions. In water, this makes hunting it with boats or ships near impossible. We noticed it generates electricity from long, whisker-like tendrils. After discussion, Surabar and I decided I’d discreetly cut them off to avoid notice. The clerk and Lord Kaldor would be far away during the hunt anyway—nobles always prioritize their safety.]

[Breathing: It can breathe out of water, albeit with limits. We confirmed it uses its nose or mouth, not gills, even sunbathing like some oversized cat.]

Once the dam is closed and the water level drops, the real hunt begins.

We’d use pre-prepared poisoned spears and harpoons to sap its strength, engaging in a grueling battle of attrition.

It’s a chaotic, brute-force plan, but it’s the most reliable.

Monster hunting isn’t complicated—stab, crush, and pummel the vital spots until it dies.

If all goes well, it’ll be tough, and a few of us might break bones or get injured. Still, it’s a manageable hunt.

At least we have a plan.

“Damn.”

“To the boss!”

“Got it. I’ll take out the whiskers first.”

“Do it!”

Less than a day after fully closing the dam, our target was already thrashing, trying to climb out despite the water level barely dropping by half.

“This wasn’t in the plan.”

“How could we predict a monster’s thoughts? Move!”

Surabar, ready to hunt in an instant, responded to my muttering. I infused aura into a throwing spear and hurled it at the creature’s flank.

“Kwoooar!” Its roar echoed as it tumbled back into the river, buying us time.

“Need more time?”

“This is enough. Just handle the whiskers.”

“Got it.”

Its head thrashed wildly as it fell.

The other members hadn’t arrived yet—unlike Surabar, they needed to grab their weapons.

With Perdual and Tenok absent, now was my chance.

As it roared, raising its head above the water, I fired a small, condensed aura at its whiskers.

“Kwoooar!”

“Crazy! Why’s it freaking out already?”

“Move, move!”

The Black Tails arrived, scrambling in a panic.

Nearby people fled, and secured ships and boats were smashed to splinters.

Seeing the wreckage, I could only imagine the tears of the owners and their business partners.

Phew, glad it’s not my investment. I’d have fainted if my wealth went up in smoke like that.

“Paramir.”

“Yes, yes.”

The black-scaled electric eel stared at us with oddly cute, round eyes, looking almost thoughtless.

“Kwoooo!”

“It’s pissed.”

“Of course—its prized whiskers are gone.”

“Fair point.”

Surabar and I bantered lightly, gripping the harpoons Lord Kaldor graciously provided.

This was trouble.

Its massive size could crush towns, injure, or kill people if it moved toward the city.

I’m a mercenary, and while my job is monster hunting, I don’t enjoy seeing innocents caught in the crossfire.

“Sorry!”

I threw a harpoon.

Its dumb, fish-like eyes stared down at me. The spear struck its left eye like an arrow.

An incomprehensible, earsplitting scream echoed across the Tishinos riverbank.

“One more! …Missed.”

“That’s enough.”

Tap, tap. Surabar patted my shoulder and raised his war hammer.

A thunderous shout erupted beside me, and suddenly, Surabar was soaring high above.

Insane.

He’s the real monster here.

At this point, it’s hard to tell who’s the beast and who’s human.

“Follow the boss!”

“Ooh!”

“Let’s go!”

At Perdual’s cry, the Black Tails, like madmen desperate to die (not entirely untrue), launched themselves at the creature now out of the water.

I hurried after Surabar.

Leaping slightly lower than him, I stabbed the eel’s belly—or back, or side, who knows—with my spear, climbing upward.

“Kwooo…” Its thrashing was ferocious.

“Argh!”

“Damn it! Perdual fell!”

“Don’t mind me, kill it!”

“You heard him! Do it!”

“Ooh!”

“You bastards! Not one of you’s gonna save me?!”

Perdual’s ghost seemed to urge us to fight on.

Sad, but I couldn’t go down.

Splash! Perdual’s “corpse” hit the river and bobbed up.

With tears in my eyes, I shouted, “We can’t let Perdual’s sacrifice be in vain! Charge!”

“I’m not dead…”

“Raaargh!”

Ignoring our comrade’s “sacrifice,” we went berserk.

Stab, slash, pierce, strike—endlessly.

Some, having lost weapons, clawed and bit with nails and teeth.

“Kwoooo!”

“It’s losing balance! Push harder!”

“Ooh!”

With fewer than twenty mercenaries, each strike drew blood, fluid, or oil—whatever it was—pouring out.

If America existed here, they’d invade for this thing’s oil! Lucky this world has no America, so we can hunt in peace.

“Paramir! Up!”

“Yes! On it!”

At Surabar’s shout, I stopped stabbing the creature’s ambiguous side and climbed higher.

Surabar was already at its head, or rather its slimy crown, preparing to smash it with his war hammer.

Boom! The impact, like an earthquake, nearly sent me falling like Perdual.

“The boss is striking! Hold tight!”

“Say that before you hit, Paramir!”

“I’m falling!”

No one’s watching, right? Time for some aura.

Surabar’s headshot sent half the clinging mercenaries tumbling. Perdual’s got company now.

“It’s tough up here—hit from below!”

“Stab! Just stab!”

Everyone was too busy to notice.

As long as I wasn’t seen, it was fine.

No one’s looking, right?

I checked the nearby members.

Surabar, higher up, was slamming his war hammer into the creature’s head with all his might.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound was like battering a fortress wall.

His skill at repeatedly striking the same spot on the slippery head was uncanny.

“Argh! I’m falling!”

“Come on down! Let’s gut it!”

More mercenaries fell from the creature’s thrashing than from Surabar’s blows.

Tenok, true to his cat beastman nature, clung on with bizarre balance.

“Stick to it, you bastards!”

“Raaargh!”

“What the…?”

Below, the fallen, like Perdual, shouted, “We hear you, Paramir!” while hacking at the creature’s sides and belly with heavy axes.

Nice. This is it.

This is the Black Tail Mercenaries—vibrant, fearless, lively monster hunters.

That’s us.

“Surabar, you tailed bastards! The port’s ruined! Stop it!”

“Oh, the clerk and lord brought soldiers to ‘help’?”

“Time to finish this.”

Behind us, the lord and clerk stood with useless human soldiers, watching helplessly.

Perfect timing—showing up when the hunt’s nearly done.

The ships were unrecognizable wrecks, the port crushed. The eel, trying to head toward the city, bled green, sticky fluid from its one eye, rampaging wildly.

“My port… my domain!”

“Hey, Lord!”

“Gurgle.”

The black eel of the Tishinos River met its end before the city walls, as did the lord watching the destruction.

A pity.

This poor creature didn’t choose to appear here… At least, I’d like to believe that.

“Still, no one got hurt, so it ended well.”

“Another great hunt, Boss.”

“Hm.”

We shook off the fluid, mud, river water, seaweed, and small crabs inexplicably stuck to us.

Mullets dragged to the walls flopped about.

***

“I didn’t hear that, Your Excellency.”

Maximilian faced the Border Count of Mosul in his office.

A loyal knight guarding the count drew his sword slightly, ready to act.

“Stop.”

At the count’s word, the knight sheathed his blade but kept his hand ready.

“I didn’t catch that, Branch Leader Maximilian. What did I just hear?”

“…My answer won’t change, Your Excellency. As the branch leader appointed by you, I’m responsible for managing, overseeing, and protecting the mercenaries under my care. It’s my sacred duty, one I cannot defy, even at your command.”

“Yes, you’re that kind of man. That’s why I appointed you. Despite the meager pay, you were the only one fit for this troublesome role… I’d forgotten.”

The count leaned back on the worn, shabby sofa, neck tilted.

The mercenary guild’s stained ceiling, with exposed wood and brick, was worlds apart from the castle’s grandeur.

“A noble family, yet you serve the empire in such a humble place… You’re a model for arrogant nobles. Your decision now is almost regrettable.”

“…”

“One last time. Bring it here.”

“…I refuse.”

The office fell silent, not even a breath audible.

The Border Count of Mosul was a man who’d eliminate even allies without hesitation if needed.

Sweat beaded on Maximilian’s armrest-gripping hand.

“Branch Leader. As of now, I relieve you of your position. Until a replacement is found, I assume all authority.”

“Your Excellency, Elon watches. Please—”

“Dear former Branch Leader, I serve a greater power than Elon. Keep your charity for the dogs.”

Elon, please…

Maximilian saw armed knights blocking the office door and hands in gauntlets approaching to restrain him.

No time to hesitate.

The former branch leader of Mosul’s mercenary guild smashed through the second-floor office window and leaped out.

Crash!

“Kyaa!”

“What’s happening?!”

“Ugh…”

Blood flowed, and screams erupted from below.

If I’d trained my stamina… Regret came too late, as always.

Maximilian staggered, gritting his teeth, and fled into a dark alley like a wounded beast.

“Pursue. If he resists, kill him,” the count ordered, watching.