Otaku Translation: Lone Adventure V4C6

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Our journey through the underground mausoleum continued without major incident, though challenges remained. Communication barriers persisted, with occasional bursts of unintelligible battle cries like "I swear," "Damn it," "Baka," or even "Banana papaya" leaving us scratching our heads. But as time went on, a subtle yet undeniable rapport began to form among us. Thankfully, no one had fallen victim to miscommunication since those early days.

In a secluded corner deep within the tomb, we stumbled upon a fortunate discovery: one of Colonel Pekla’s scouts—a lone warrior sent to gather intelligence. This ordinary level-27 fighter baffled me. How had he managed to evade the vampires guarding the tomb and infiltrate this far alone? Without my companions’ help, I wouldn’t have even made it past the entrance. His feat highlighted my own inadequacy, which was both humbling and frustrating.

However, this brave soldier clearly couldn’t complete his mission now. During his escape from pursuing vampires, he sustained grievous wounds and was forced to hide here, awaiting rescue. He told us that when he set out, he carried a pouch of magical powder capable of teleporting him back to Valor Fortress. Unfortunately, the vampires had seized it during their skirmish, likely delivering it to a vampire count named Barkshire. He pleaded with us to retrieve the powder so he could return safely. According to him, Barkshire often patrolled the tomb, and the upcoming crypt hall would be part of his route.

Following the soldier’s directions, we arrived at the designated chamber. Soon enough, the figure of “Count Barkshire” appeared in the corridor leading into the hall.

The typical image of a vampire—tall, gaunt, pale-skinned, with slender fingers and crimson eyes—had been reinforced by our encounters thus far. But Count Barkshire shattered every convention about what a vampire should look like, leaving us utterly dumbfounded.

A bald head, a round belly, a neck nearly nonexistent, arms thicker than an average person’s thighs, and legs rivaling most people’s waistlines—all tightly wrapped in an evening gown so large it could double as a curtain for Valor Fortress’ gates. At first glance, it looked absurdly small, akin to the corsets worn by noblewomen.

“Hey, Long Triangle, isn’t that you? When did you turn into a vampire?” The dwarf priest quipped, slapping the orc rogue’s thigh playfully. His jest wasn’t entirely baseless; the resemblance between Barkshire and Long Triangle was uncanny. The eccentric vampire count resembled a colossal version of our orc companion.

“Nonsense! My physique is way better than his!” Long Triangle retorted indignantly.

“Physique?” I widened my eyes dramatically, feigning astonishment. “I fail to see how that word applies to you.”

Long Triangle shot me a glare before pointing emphatically at Barkshire’s abdomen. “Look closely! He only has one ab muscle, while I have two…”

With that declaration, he tightened his belt, already stretched to its limit, nearly snapping under the strain. Amidst our stunned expressions, he added confidently:

“…One on top, one below…”

Our first encounter with a count-level vampire began amidst uncontrollable laughter. As Barkshire charged toward us, shouting, “Turn these intruders into minced meat!” I was doubled over, unable to contain my amusement at Long Triangle’s crude joke about abs. Caught off guard, I was swatted aside in a single blow, my health bar plummeting to less than four-fifths full. Only then did my comrades recognize the formidable strength of this obese foe and rally for a counterattack.

Clado came to my aid when I faltered. Seeing me injured and sprawled on the ground, he quickly planted an “Anger Totem” opposite me. These totems dealt no damage to enemies nor granted allies any magical buffs. Their sole purpose was to provoke intense rage within foes, drawing their attention and making them prioritize the totem as a target. For this reason, shamans rarely relied on such tools in combat.

This time, however, the Anger Totem proved invaluable. Just as Barkshire prepared to pummel me further, he became fixated on the totem instead, roaring and charging toward it. Though fragile, the totem crumbled after enduring several brutal strikes—but the brief respite it provided allowed me to regain my footing and prepare for battle.

Once the Anger Totem shattered, three more totems materialized before Clado: a “Life Totem” to restore vitality, a “Guardian Totem” to bolster our defenses, and a “Binding Totem” to slow enemy movement.

Having never interacted with shamans prior, the title evoked images of cults, tradition, primitivism, and ignorance—hardly something I associated with valor. Yet in this moment, I realized how fortunate it was to have a shaman fighting alongside you.

Under the influence of his totems, each of us felt our muscles grow stronger, lifeblood coursing through our veins with renewed vigor. Unlike mages or priests, who could only buff one ally at a time, or bards limited to enhancing a single attribute, Clado simultaneously empowered us in multiple ways. Moreover, while his totems worked their magic, he wielded his battle axe relentlessly, dealing continuous damage to our massive opponent—a feat unmatched by any other class.

To become a mage, one must master control over surrounding magical elements, bending them to their will. Specializing in one element inevitably diminishes sensitivity to others. Black Aurora, a fire mage, was completely cut off from water-based magic and restricted to low-tier spells outside his specialization.

Take, for example, the basic wind spell: Gust Strike. While ineffective against heavily armored opponents like Barkshire, Black Aurora possessed a unique technique. By fusing his expertise in fire magic with Gust Strike, he created a hybrid spell capable of devastating results.

Now, holding a swirling vortex of air in one hand and chanting an intricate incantation, a radiant flame coalesced in the other, forming a blazing spear brimming with heat. Merging the two forces, the fiery spear enveloped by the cyclone spiraled violently toward Barkshire’s bloated midsection. Its piercing power amplified significantly, exploding in a gory burst above Barkshire’s head and draining nearly 200 points of his health.

Meanwhile, the potency of Long Triangle and Longbow Sunshot’s new weapons shone brightly. Under their coordinated assault, streams of blood continuously floated above Barkshire’s head. Whenever Long Triangle landed a critical hit, the damage rivaled Black Aurora’s strike—notably impressive given his high attack frequency.

Despite being a count-level vampire, Barkshire stood no chance against us. Compared to other vampires we’d faced, he merely boasted higher defense, stronger attacks, greater health, and a larger frame. Ironically, his bulkiness proved his greatest weakness, presenting an easy target while forcing him to contend with all of us simultaneously.

Before long, the lopsided battle concluded. From Barkshire’s corpse, we retrieved the magical powder and discovered a ring boosting vitality and physical damage. As thanks for aiding me earlier, I graciously offered the ring to Clado, the tauren shaman.

Though tiny, the ring somehow fit snugly onto Clado’s thick finger. Whether it pinched uncomfortably remained unknown.

Handing the magical powder to the wounded soldier, we completed our task, earning a modest sum of money, two potent healing potions, and some Soul Power. Before departing, the soldier informed us that descending the stairs in the third crypt ahead would lead to the Altar of Death on the second floor—the vampires’ headquarters, where their leader lay hidden.

Gazing at the dark staircase, a mix of tension and anticipation welled up inside me. What awaited us at the end of this adventure?

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