Reincarnated As A Dragon With A Godly Inheritance
Chapter 37: Funeral

Chapter 37: Funeral

Kaedros watched as the healer opened her mouth to speak, only for her words to be lost forever.

She collapsed, a monster’s leg lodged through her skull, blood spraying across her nearest companion.

The White steel stared in mute horror, paralyzed by the suddenness of Marr’s death. But Han snapped out of it first. His body trembled, and faint red wisps of energy coiled around him like smoke.

"Who did that!" he roared, voice cracked with rage.

His axe glowed, a deep molten red, and as he stepped forward, the ground cracked beneath his boots. "Who dares?!"

A giggle answered him, a grotesque sound like a grown man imitating a baby’s laugh. It came from the forest where the projectile had flown from.

And then it rose.

The monster.

Eighteen feet tall, it was an oversized version of the small one Ben had scolded earlier. Dark fur covered its body. Its two horns curled forward like ram’s horns, and its mouth, lined with finger-length fangs, opened wide as it giggled again, louder, uglier.

"So it was you," Han laughed, a broken, drunken sound, like a man who’d just lost everything at the gambling table. "Thank you for showing yourself."

"Dark fur Maulgig," Thandor said, calm despite the tension thickening the air. He glanced at Han, who was stalking forward steadily. "Rank one. He should be able to handle it."

"Dark fur?" Kaedros asked, narrowing his eyes.

Eldric responded without prompting. "There’s an advanced variant, darker fur. It uses mana cultivation."

Taria’s grip on her spear tightened. She had known they’d face monsters stronger than anything she’d fought before, but this... Her joints locked, trembling under invisible pressure radiating from the beast.

And there’s one stronger than this? One that uses mana?

Coming here had truly been a death wish. She thought to herself.

A hand settled gently on her shoulder, and she flinched. When she looked up, Kaedros was smiling down at her, more than she’d ever seen him smile. His blue eyes gleamed, lit from within like stars.

"See there, Taria," he said, pointing toward the scene. "Look at the monster. Look at the man. Study their power. Don’t fear it... yearn for it. Because soon, you’ll fight like this."

It was as if the monster accepted the challenge. It didn’t attack, it waited.

Han advanced, each step amplifying the red aura around him until it flared like an angry inferno.

"You’re too weak to cause me pain," Han said once he stood face to face with the beast.

The Maulgig swiped at him with a hand the size of a tree trunk.

He didn’t move until the very last second. Then, with a subtle bend, he slashed upward between the monster’s legs.

The swing looked casual.

But it wasn’t.

A blast of crimson exploded from his axe. A massive projection of the weapon, formed entirely of red energy, manifested in mid-air and cleaved the Maulgig cleanly in two, from groin to skull.

The corpse crashed backward through the trees, splitting trunks and shaking the ground.

Taria’s eyes widened as the red energy faded, revealing Han’s regular axe once more. "That... that was one strike..."

"That’s the difference in power," Kaedros said softly. "The difference in ranks."

Han wiped blood from his face and spat on the monster’s corpse. Then he returned to his team, who were already kneeling beside Marr’s body, beginning preparations for grave.

The rest of the raid group respectfully stepped back to give them space.

"Good technique for dealing with big things," Thandor muttered, arms crossed, eyes still on the Maulgig’s ruined body.

"Is that why you brought him?" Rauk asked, pale.

The rapid string of events had clearly shaken him. He’d known the raid was dangerous, but he’d believed that by following a safe route through the wilderness, they’d avoid true danger until reaching the forbidden zone.

"Exactly. His team’s one of the best in their ranks. And that technique of his? He’s famous for it, his mana cultivation method. Makes short work of monsters like that." Thandor looked toward Marr’s burial preparations. His expression turned grim. "A shame, though. A good healer to die just like that."

Only now did it begin to sink in for Taria.

Someone had died.

Someone far stronger than her.

A healer, dead in an instant.

From nothing more than a monster’s foot.

Kaedros placed a hand gently on her shoulder again. "You’re my warrior," he said quietly. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

Rauk, who stood nearby, overheard him. He couldn’t help but glance at Kaedros in mild disbelief. A stage five rank one talking about protecting a stage two? Against a stage eight monster?

It sounded ridiculous.

"Good healer or not," Vexa cut in coldly, her voice like steel. "She was our only healer. And now she’s dead. We’re worse off than when we started."

’..that much was true..’ Kaedros thought. And the way it had happened... it didn’t feel like an accident.

Marr had been targeted. With the healer gone, the group had lost its safety net.

Something wasn’t right.

"Ahem," Rauk cleared his throat, raising the hand that wore his ring. "I have some healing potions."

Refiner Thandor narrowed his eyes. "And why didn’t you mention that at the start of the journey?"

Rauk held his stare, unflinching, until Thandor looked away. His voice came quiet and sharp. "Because I didn’t have to. And they’re for minor wounds. Nothing serious."

A heavy silence settled over the camp.

Then Han and his team returned.

The silence deepened, no longer heavy, but awkward, uncomfortable. No one knew what to say.

Rauk opened his mouth, but the Mage, cut him off. "Don’t. None of us know each other, and we’re here for a job. I know you’re all sorry... so, thank you. That’s enough."

Kaedros nodded. It was reasonable.

Han’s eyes, dark and hollow, met Taria’s as he passed, and she instinctively leaned closer to Kaedros. The man’s presence radiated fury and mourning, barely restrained as if it could be unleashed at anything at any time.

"Let’s go," Thandor muttered. His tone implied he was leaving the lead to the White steel now.

They had barely taken three steps when something small flew through the air and thunked softly off the back of Han’s head, almost playfully.

Everyone froze.

The object rolled gently along the ground, stopping against a stone.

It was Marr’s head.