Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 73: Gotta Eat to Survive (1)

Abyss Beetle.

Among these cold regions, they were insects that only inhabited icy cliffs that faced the wind head-on.

Their entire bodies had white camouflage, and they were known for containing toxic bodily fluids.

Back when I was still Varlach, I had hunted these things countless times during my travels through cold regions, so I remembered them clearly.

Medeia asked,

“Are you seriously… planning to use these as food?”

Her face was filled with disappointment.

Hardin shrugged and answered.

“Come on, do I look like an idiot? Do you think I’d say something that ridiculous?”

…Idiot?

Medeia’s body trembled.

“Then what do you plan to do with those bugs?”

“I’m going to make meat out of them.”

“……”

No, that sounds even more ridiculous, brother.

Medeia looked at Malion, whose face had turned awkward.

Srrring!

Medeia drew her sword and glared at Hardin as if she was about to kill him.

“This is exactly why I said I’d keep an eye on you.”

“Ugh, you’re so impatient. I’m telling you, you really can make meat out of these. Just trust me a little. I swear on the name of Varlach Daphne.”

“That’s depraved.”

“…What?”

“Lord Varlach, watching from the heavens, would be saddened.”

“…No, I mean—”

That Varlach is standing right in front of you, you bastard.

Hardin pounded his chest in frustration.

At that moment, Malion quickly stepped in with an awkward smile.

“Haha, uh, anyway, it looks like Brother has a plan. Could you please trust him just this once and wait, Princess Medeia?”

Sweat beaded on his forehead.

His face was like that of a pleading baby squirrel, filled with desperation.

His teary eyes made it look like he might start crying any second.

Medeia gave Malion a frosty glance before sheathed her sword.

“Fine. I’ll cooperate. Cutting off your head… can wait until I see the results.”

“That still sounds like you’re planning to behead me in the end.”

“That’s just your misunderstanding.”

Crack! Crackle!

A subtle lightning seemed to arc between the gazes of Hardin and Princess Medeia.

And then—

‘Forget it. What good does it do to argue with a kid?’

Hardin let out a deep sigh, then casually tossed the Abyss Beetle in his hand.

“Hey, Beryl. Keep this safe.”

Thunk!

The beetle-like Abyss Beetle flew through the air and smacked right onto Beryl’s forehead with a thud.

In that instant, Beryl’s face twisted up.

“Kyaaaaaagh!”

With a bizarre shriek, he started flailing wildly on the spot.

“A-a-are you okay, Brother Beryl?!”

“What’s wrong with him?”

As Hardin widened his eyes, Mikkelsen quickly turned his head and shouted,

“B-Brother Beryl… is scared of bugs.”

“Yes! He absolutely hates them!”

Tadadak! Tadadadak!

In the meantime, thanks to Beryl’s intense dance-like spasms (?), the Abyss Beetle fell to the ground.

“Uwaaaaaaah!”

With a palm the size of a pot lid, Beryl crushed the creature on the spot.

Hardin’s brow furrowed sharply.

‘Seriously, the guy looks like he’d munch on live maggots, and now this…’

My precious Abyss Beetle…

Hardin let out a sigh and asked,

“Beryl, you really can’t handle bugs?”

“I can’t. Absolutely not! Just kill me instead!”

“It’s just a bug, man. You just grab it and toss it in a bag. That’s it.”

“Uuuuuh…”

Beryl curled up like a pill bug, trembling all over.

‘Damn it…’

He had picked the one who seemed the most useful, so why was he like this?

Hardin let out a sigh of embarrassment.

Well, what could he do? If you don’t have teeth, use your gums.

If Beryl couldn’t help, the others would have to make up for it.

“Mikkelsen, Malion.”

“Yes?”

“Get up there. Make up for Beryl’s share too.”

“……”

The two of them slowly lifted their heads.

A steep cliff they couldn’t even fully see, with a blizzard raging above and winds sharp enough to slice skin.

You want us… to climb that?

“That seems a little dangerous.”

“Brother… I can’t do this.”

Then Hardin shook his head firmly and said,

“You can do it.”

“I’m telling you, we can’t. If we fall, it’s not just a scratch we’ll be dealing with—”

“I’ll catch you.”

“…What?”

“If you fall, I’ll catch you. So don’t worry and get climbing.”

“Then… what about you, Brother?”

“I’m not feeling well.”

Hardin answered while tapping his lower back with his fist.

Mikkelsen and Malion’s eyes both narrowed.

‘Is that even a person…?’

‘Is he serious?’

How could anyone be like that?

“Go. Now.”

“…What if we say no?”

“Well, then I guess we’ll have to have a heartfelt conversation.”

Hardin squatted down and thumped the snowy ground with his fist.

His scrunched brow and pouting lips made him look exactly like a thug from the back alleys.

“……”

Despair spread across Mikkelsen and Malion’s faces.

Thunk!

“Brother Beryl, let’s go together.”

“You… You want me to catch bugs?”

“This is a chance to grow. You need to overcome it.”

Mikkelsen pulled Beryl to his feet with an encouraging—no, a shoving gesture.

“Brother Hardin, I think I’ve developed a phobia of bugs too.”

Malion, with an unnecessarily serious expression, blurted nonsense.

“Then what, do I need to give you some physical therapy…?”

Of course, Hardin’s attitude remained unchanged.

While the Daphne crew were exchanging their bizarre banter—

Thud! Thud!

Something fell onto Beryl’s head.

Beryl reached up, grabbed it, and checked what it was.

“Eeeeeek!”

He saw two beetles clutched in both hands.

In that instant, Beryl’s eyes rolled back.

“Bu… Bugs…”

Thud!

He collapsed backward just like that.

“B-Brotheeer?!”

“Are you okay, Beryl?”

Hardin looked up toward the top of the cliff.

“Geez, so impatient, aren’t they.”

Before anyone noticed, Princess Medeia and her aide Benjamin were clinging to the cliffside, tossing beetles down to the ground.

“Are you just going to watch?!”

“Y-Yes, yes. We're on it!”

Well, no reason to refuse help.

Hardin scratched his crown, then started climbing the cliff himself.

---

After that, a grueling process of gathering Abyss Beetles began.

“I-It’s so cold!”

“My arm’s going to fall off, Young Master!”

“Stop whining.”

“This isn’t whining!”

Malion and Mikkelsen, who were on relatively lower parts of the cliff, were painstakingly tossing beetles down to the ground.

“Lady Medeia, are you all right? Perhaps a short break…”

“There’s no time. Let’s finish as quickly as we can.”

“…Understood.”

Medeia and Benjamin were catching and tossing beetles from the higher section.

As the five of them tossed beetles down—

“Uuuuuh… Please don’t move… pleaaase…”

Beryl, trembling like an aspen tree, stuffed the beetles into leather pouches.

The problem was, the process wasn’t going all that smoothly.

Crack! Snap!

“Aaaaagh! I’m falling!”

As the section Malion had been holding broke off, he plummeted downward—

Thunk!

“What are you doing?”

Hardin, who was collecting below, stretched out his arm and caught him.

“I-I just lost strength in my arms…”

“Quit yapping and climb back up. I’m dying here too, you know.”

That’s when—

“Aaaaaaah!”

Another scream from above—Hardin looked up to see Mikkelsen now plummeting down in his direction.

He instinctively stretched out his other arm and caught Mikkelsen.

“Goddamn it.”

It was only then that Hardin realized both his arms had left the cliff.

Whooooosh—thud!

“Aaaaagh!”

“A-Are you okay, Young Master?”

Mikkelsen and Malion sat with lumps the size of fists on their heads.

And then—

“You dumb bastards! Can’t you be more careful?!”

Hardin sprang up between them, practically breathing fire from his mouth.

“But what can we do if our arms give out?”

“Then climb down before they do, idiot!”

“But you told us to hang in there earlier!”

“That was then!”

The shouting match resumed.

“If we hadn’t followed, this wouldn’t be over even by dawn.”

“Lady Medeia, are you sure we can really rely on these men?”

As voices came from the side, Hardin turned his head to see Princess Medeia and her aide Benjamin staring at him with expressions full of disdain.

The way her lips curled at the corner made her sneer obvious.

Crack!

A vein bulged blue on Hardin’s forehead.

“Hey, get moving already!”

“W-We really are doing our best!”

“We fell because you told us to hurry up!”

Uh… Did I?

Hardin, who had clenched his fists tightly, flinched and froze for a moment.

Then, Princess Medeia added a jab.

“A truly disgraceful descendant to Lord Varlach’s name. You don’t even know your subordinates’ capabilities…”

“Princess, wouldn’t it be more helpful to catch one more bug instead of criticizing?”

“You have no shame. I’d say we caught at least seventy percent of them.”

“……”

Every time she opened her mouth, Hardin found himself speechless.

‘Damn iiiiiit… This little brat…’

But what could he do?

She was a princess. A royal. And the granddaughter of Linian, no less.

Grinding his teeth, Hardin twisted his body this way and that, trying to swallow his rage.

---

Inside a shabby tent tucked into a corner of Ruslan Fortress—

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Hardin and the Daphne crew crouched around, pounding Abyss Beetles in a mortar.

White liquid splattered out, and a horrendous stench spread throughout the tent.

“Ughhh! Gagghh!”

“T-The smell is terrible, Young Master!”

“I think I’m going to die…”

Seeing their dying expressions, Hardin furrowed his brow sharply.

“Oh, quit whining already. No one’s gonna die from this.”

…Even though he had stuffed fabric plugs made from torn cloth into both nostrils.

Hardin stared into the mortar filled with bug corpses.

The Abyss Beetles—specifically the unique white bodily fluid inside them—emitted a stench that was almost unholy.

It was like someone had mixed a sewer with an outhouse.

Apparently, they used this smell to protect themselves from predators or whatever.

Anyway, despite looking utterly useless, these bugs were the only viable solution when all they had were potatoes to eat.

‘They don’t understand the greatness of my vision.’

Hardin sighed deeply and pounded the mortar with irritation.

Then Mikkelsen pointed sideways and spoke up.

“Young Master, I’m telling you, Beryl really looks like he’s gonna die. Look at his condition!”

“No one’s dying. Quit spouting—”

Hardin turned his head.

“Bu-Bugs… Bu-Bugs… Hiiiiiiek!”

Beryl was foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolled back.

Anyone could see he looked like he could drop dead any second.

“……”

A single bead of sweat rolled down Hardin’s cheek as an awkward expression crept across his face.

“That’s not just from the smell.”

“Does that even matter right now? Are you just going to leave him like that?”

“…Take him out for some air.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just as Mikkelsen twitched the corner of his lips and began to get up—

“Hold on.”

“Huh? Why?”

Malion slowly stood up and pushed Mikkelsen aside as he spoke.

His face had gone pale yellow—he didn’t look so good either.

“I’ll take Beryl out. Mikkelsen, you… keep working.”

“I’m fine. I’d like to go.”

“No, no, something like this… I should do it. Ha ha…”

“But it’s cold outside. Why go out in this weather?”

Mikkelsen and Malion kept pushing each other’s bodies, tugging Beryl back and forth.

“Uuuugh! Blegh!”

Meanwhile, Beryl continued to wither away.

…Damn it. These are my subordinates?

Hardin scowled and shouted.

“Just hurry up and go if you’re going!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Ah! Damn it!”

Taah!

Mikkelsen quickly hoisted Beryl over his shoulder and darted out of the tent.

‘Damn it…’

Mikkelsen stretched his arms out, then hunched his shoulders in defeat.

Hardin, watching this, snorted and shouted again.

“Move it! Move! We’re short on time, so just grit your teeth and power through it!”

His arms sped up as he ground the mortar.

‘Why the hell am I doing this?’

‘Such a damn boomer…’

The Maw mercenaries all continued their task with faces full of resentment.

A few hours passed since the start of this vile task.

Inside the tent, five vials filled with a white liquid were neatly lined up.

They had crushed over a hundred Abyss Beetles to produce this extract.

The price they paid for it had been brutal.

“S-Save meee…”

“My body… smells… the stench…”

The Maw mercenaries, faces pale and yellow, were strewn across the tent.

“Please… just kill me…”

Damn it all. What kind of hellish suffering was this…?

Hardin Daphne himself was sprawled flat on his back, tears of clear liquid pouring from his eyes.