HB Translations

  The Great Zhou Dynasty. Bo Prefecture, Pingzhang Commandery, Heishan County. The county streets were empty and silent. Cobblestone roads stretched like winding rivers, flanked by old tiled houses casting jagged shadows. A chilling stillness filled the air, carrying a subtle aura of death. Autumn had arrived, bringing a sharp bite to the wind, and with the setting sun slipping below the horizon, the city felt even colder. Bathed in the dying glow of sunset, a constable clad in tattered official garments leaned against the doorway of a tiled house. Blood trickled from the back of his head, staining the ground beneath him crimson. The cold was unmistakable. The constable, sprawled on the threshold, suddenly shivered. His eyes fluttered open in a daze. “Hiss—” A sharp pain surged through his skull. Zheng Jun sucked in a breath, his head swimming. He cradled the bleeding back of his head and curled into a corner. At the same time, a flood of unfamiliar memories poured into his mind. “...

  While two demons were deciding to use their fellow generals to carry out a scheme that would benefit only themselves, their target—the young man known as the Hero—was facing a problem so trivial that the earnest would never dream of it. “Hey, Arist. How long are we going to keep doing this?” After teleporting from Samakai back to a cheap inn in Myuronba, the young man quickly tore off the adorable armor he’d been wearing—pink, decorated with sunflowers and cosmos. Scowling at it like it was filth, he spat out those words with contempt. The other two men, clad in similarly patterned armor now stained with blood, also stripped it off and echoed his complaint. “Seriously. People will think we’re some noble’s idiotic sons.” “No kidding. Even those peacocks obsessed with appearances wouldn’t be caught dead in this ridiculous armor—it’s the kind of costume a clown wears during a village festival.” As the youngest of them finished speaking, he kicked the armor he’d just t...

  The war council held before the demon king the day after the nightmare at Myuronba—an utter disaster for the demon army—was cloaked in an atmosphere heavier than usual. At the center of it stood General Butare. He was the one tasked with reporting the appalling results of the previous night. Of course, this daring operation to strike old human territories with small elite units—pioneered by Guarani—had in the past led to devastating losses, such as the near-annihilation of Jajou’s subordinates on that very same day. However, those were cases where the enemy held overwhelming advantages at the outset. This time, the conditions were not particularly unfavorable, and yet, against a team of merely five adventurers, over fifty warriors were annihilated in an instant—without even managing to injure a single foe. Such a complete defeat was unprecedented. Naturally, Butare had wanted to bury this disgrace in the shadows, keeping it hidden from the king and his fellow genera...

  The conversation of the Guarani that day, which had colored the path they were to follow with vivid hues, ended there. But if we were to append an answer-like explanation to the earlier part of their exchange, it would be that half their guesses were correct—and the other half, not. In short, the incident at Myuronba did indeed involve the Hero. However, the encounter with the demons was not a mere coincidence, as they had convincingly assumed. Though the expression might not be entirely accurate, the truth was that it had been deliberately orchestrated as a demon-hunting operation. This took place on a certain night in Myuronba, shortly before the event. "Faub, I understand how you feel, but surely you know that some things must be restrained," said a man about ten years older than the young man he was addressing. The young man—barely twenty, if that—was called Faub. But Faub’s face made it abundantly clear he wasn’t the least convinced by the older man's lectu...