◈ REAPER SCANS ◈
Translator: Regressed Translator
Editor: leef
Discord: https://dsc.gg/reapercomics
◈ Return of the Disaster-Class Young Lord ◈
Chapter 35 | Hunting Festival (3)
───────────────
For an awakener, class and rank are everything.
How high a class they acquire,
What rare traits they awaken
Even a one-rank difference can reshape their entire life.
Low-level awakeners often end up treated as mere tools, while high-level awakeners stand just shy of nobility. However, a low-level awakener isn’t necessarily doomed to stay that way forever, whether by fortune or misfortune.
Occasionally, an awakener whose class reaches the level of Master sees their rank promoted.
Of course, not every Master experiences a “rank-up,” but there has long been a rumor that the younger and lower-ranked one is, the higher their chances. That’s why nobles devour magic stones from an early age, hoping to develop their classes as quickly as possible.
The problem lies in two areas.
First, this method is only feasible for aristocrats or those overflowing with wealth.
Second, there’s mana corruption to consider.
Magic stones, the power source of monsters, are essentially lumps of raw mana. Even if purified with healing water, overconsumption in a short period has repeatedly been proven to end in ruin.
Thus, even nobles flush with cash can’t skip the time required for safe growth.
Nevertheless, those lacking both money and time devised a desperate measure to speed up their progress: the Hunting Festival.
Rooted in the ancient era of the Old Kingdom— where lords would drive beaters ahead of them on hunts—the entire domain ventures through the labyrinth, hunting monsters as they go.
The idea is simple: absorb a large amount of mana cheaply and quickly.
But the labyrinth is monstrous and inhuman. Unlike a typical hunting ground where one needs to be cautious of wild beasts or assassins, there’s no guarantee of safety here.
Death among participants—or people mutating due to mana overload—is common.
Sometimes, entire domains vanish.
Even so, from commoners eager to awaken to those already awakened seeking to elevate their status, to nobles excluded from succession—participants in these Hunting Festivals never cease.
In the Centuriate Cities, power is everything. Countless people would rather risk their lives for a chance to grow stronger than remain forever oppressed and dispossessed.
“In about an hour, we’ll be hunting the 1-star monster, Charging Boars. Please gear up and gather in the lobby if you wish to participate. We estimate around thirty of these monsters. Important notes…”
By that measure, it’s obvious why the Hunting Festival at Devil’s Tree Manor is so popular.
A kobold “leader” clan, naturally born into the 1-star Shepherd class, commands hundreds of beastly mounts.
Among these are Forest Spiders, top-tier among 1-star monsters, which excel at capturing prey alive.
Thus, participants of this Hunting Festival don’t even have to fight. They only need to sever the necks of web-bound monsters.
Perfectly safe and incredibly convenient.
That’s why the Devil’s Tree Manor’s Hunting Festival is considered the ideal hunt.
“Tch, another round finished without getting a single kill.”
“For how much I paid in entry fees, why are we only going after these small monster dens?”
“One of those nobles managed to kill three, damn it… Figures nobles get all the perks no matter where you go.”
But nothing is ever perfect. No matter how smoothly or safely this festival proceeds.
However, the “safer” it goes, the more the participants grumble.
They joined, paying an enormous fee, to become stronger…
Perhaps even to awaken.
Only to secure a meager one or two monster kills apiece.
Though the hunts target many monster packs, with over a hundred participants total, it’s nowhere near enough to go around.
“Can’t we aim for a bigger nest?”
“We have the Disaster Bride on our side anyway. Going a bit deeper into the labyrinth shouldn’t be a big deal!”
“If you’re taking our money, deliver the goods!”
It was inevitable that participants banded together to complain. Some nobles even brazenly flaunted their family prestige to demand more aggressive hunts.
Yet there’s always an exception.
Not every participant is desperate to kill monsters.
“...Will you simply watch again today, my lord?”
“Hmm, I admit I’m getting a bit bored of just watching.”
“Then—”
“Maybe I’ll gather the slaves for a card tournament. If I offer a vacation as the prize, I bet they’ll give it their all.”
The dark elf beside him remained silent.
“Ah, or perhaps Pandora will invite me to tea again today.”
The manor’s top-floor dining hall boasted the best view.
There, a boy wearing a white mask sipped his juice by the window, drawing exasperated looks from other patrons.
On the first day, the sight of the masked young lord skipping the hunt was mocked as noble vanity.
But three days had passed.
Most participants had slain monsters over ten times, yet he had yet to hunt even once, letting his slaves rest all the while.
They were all at a loss for words.
“How filthy rich is he…?”
“If he doesn’t even plan to hunt, why bring so many slaves?”
“He’s nothing but a coward who can’t stomach a real fight.”
Undeterred by their scorn, Dion casually chatted with Arsha, planning how to pass the day, when someone spoke—
“White Masked Young Lord, may I have a word?”
Everyone in the dining hall was startled.
The speaker was an elderly kobold of the leader clan, leaning on a staff—none other than Las Hara, Devil’s Tree Manor's lord.
◈ REAPER SCANS ◈
Translator: Regressed Translator
Editor: leef
◈ Join our discord for updates on releases! https://dsc.gg/reapercomics ◈
“Why?” Dion asked.
“If you don’t mind, I have a few questions.”
“And what do you want to know?”
Though the visit was abrupt, Dion remained unruffled, granting permission to speak.
Las asked quietly, “I was curious why you’ve yet to participate in any hunts. May I hear your reason?”
“You want the reason?”
“Yes. If it’s a matter of dissatisfaction with our preparations, I—”
“It’s nothing like that. Just personal reasons.”
“...I see.”
Las wondered what “personal reasons” could possibly justify paying a fortune in fees only to spectate from the sidelines. But he did not pry further. Instead, he posed his next question.
“If the current hunting grounds don’t interest you, we could push deeper.”
“Deeper?”
“Near the 2-star Hunter’s Forest.”
“Hmm... Going that far in sounds dangerous.”
Dion tilted his head.
The difference in danger between a 1-star and 2-star labyrinth was massive. Even wandering near it would mean encountering stronger, more numerous monsters.
Las’s ensuing words made Dion tilt his head the other way.
“For that reason, I wanted to check something beforehand. If worst comes to worst, can we rely on the power of the Disaster Bride?”
Dion narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why are you asking me?”
“Aren’t you on good terms with her?”
“We’re neighbors, so we’re not exactly strangers, but it’s not as if I can speak on her behalf.”
“So you’re just neighbors?”
“For now, yes.”
Someday, they might grow closer, but right now, they were merely acquaintances at best.
Hearing Dion’s casual reply, Las’s expression turned peculiar. His gaze flickered to Arsha, her veil concealing her face, then to Orr Kai, who was happily feasting behind her with the other slaves. After a moment, he slowly nodded.
“I see. It seems I misunderstood you.”
Dion arched a brow. “What did you misunderstand?”
“A trivial thing you need not concern yourself with.”
“Alright.”
“If you need anything, please ask. To apologize for my misunderstanding, I’ll fulfill whatever I can.”
With that, Las Hara inclined his head in courtesy and left.
Watching him go, amusement flickered in Dion’s eyes. “Interesting, isn’t it, Arsha?”
“Do you refer to the fact that the manor lord was watching your reactions?”
“Precisely. But to be exact, it’s not ‘me’ he was watching. It’s ‘us.’ And he wasn’t just watching. He was wary.”
Arsha frowned. “Yet I see no reason for him to be wary of us.”
“Perhaps not me,” Dion mused. “But there may be someone else he’s wary of.”
Arsha paused, then realization dawned. “You mean the Disaster Bride.”
“Correct.”
“Then the reason she’s invited you to tea each day since we arrived at Devil’s Tree Manor…”
“It’s suspicious, isn’t it?”
Despite being neighbors, Pandora had never once visited them back in their own domain. But now, she was inviting Dion to tea daily.
Dion sipped his juice, pointing out how even a simple social event could turn into a political tool in a domain full of schemes, just as a labyrinth is full of monsters.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Pandora is quite the fun one.”
Arsha remained silent, watching him carefully. Eventually, she spoke. “My lord, may I ask something impertinent?”
“Go ahead.”
“Even knowing the Disaster Bride’s intentions, is there a particular reason you keep accepting her invitations?”
“No special reason.”
“Really?”
“Well, if I had to say something, meeting Pandora is the reason.”
Arsha tilted her head.
“Because Pandora will be my second wife.”
Arsha’s expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes.
“Maybe not yet,” Dion continued, “but someday she will be. So extending her a small courtesy now wouldn’t hurt.”
He reached out and patted Orr Kai’s head as she served him a large piece of meat. Arsha merely bowed in silent acknowledgment.
Perhaps it was the easing of a misunderstanding.
Or perhaps the participants’ protests had simply grown too loud.
Shortly after, the manor moved its hunting grounds closer to Hunter’s Forest.
The monsters they encountered became both greater in number and stronger. More of the mounts were lost with each hunt.
Yet, the participants welcomed the increase in prey, and the Hara family of Devil’s Tree Manor hardly minded losing a few Forest Spiders. After all, a few dozen lost this year could be replenished by next year.
And so, most everyone was satisfied. The Hunting Festival at Devil’s Tree Manor seemed destined for success.
…Or it would have, until—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
“L-Lord Dion! Something terrible has happened!”
It was early dawn on the fifth day after four nights had passed.
A pale-faced Naru pounded on Dion’s door, breathless with urgent news.
“Last night, the manor lord was found murdered!”
The door swung open. Arsha stood there, clad in pajamas and a robe, her eyes wide in shock.
“Who... Who in the world would commit such an act?”
Naru swallowed hard. “W-well, the Disaster Bride was found at the crime scene…”
Arsha’s mind went blank.
The notion that someone—Pandora, of all people—had murdered the lord in his own domain was unthinkable.
But a graver realization struck her a moment later:
“Wait… if Lord Hara is dead, that means there’s no longer a driver here?”
“Uh, yes…?”
“And we’re in the middle of the labyrinth...?”
Naru opened and closed his mouth like a fish, finally grasping what that implied.
On the bed, Dion stirred, stretching with a lazy yawn. A languid smile played on his lips.
“So it begins.”
◈ Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/reapercomics ◈
