Chapter 21: I will purge the shield-bugs from this world! Every last one of them! (gritting teeth)

Every muscle in his body tensed, strength coiling like a taut steel wire, converging into a single point.

One strike, two strikes, three strikes!

The buildup of power reached its limit, and with the force of wanting to snap the handle in his grasp, Oran shouted and swung down his iron pickaxe.

“Clang!”

The pickaxe’s pointed tip struck the rock face, and the massive recoil sent it bouncing high into the air.

Oran clenched his hands desperately to prevent the pickaxe from slipping free, yet the force transmitted back through the handle still staggered him several steps backward, nearly twisting his waist.

Seagi looked at him with a face full of disbelief. “What are you doing, meow?”

Oran set the pickaxe down and shook out his hands, numb and aching from the shock. “Just practicing a charged strike along the way.”

Seagi glanced at the pickaxe propped against the ground, its tip already slightly bent. “Are you crazy, meow? How many pickaxes did you bring, meow? If you keep using them like this, they’ll be broken before you even finish collecting the ores you want, meow!”

“…True.”

Oran looked at the damaged pickaxe in his hand, then at the exposed mineral veins in the rock face.

It proved that compared to normal pickaxe swings, smashing down with a charged strike offered no real advantage. The mineral seams barely opened, and it wasted energy, strained his joints, and wore down the pickaxe.

He had no choice but to abandon his self-devised “training method” and obediently resumed swinging the pickaxe with regular force.

“Clang! Clang! Clang!”

“Hm, to conserve effort, the rhythm of swinging the pickaxe is key. Isn’t this somewhat similar to a deadly combo?” Oran paused, musing aloud.

Seagi couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped up to kick Oran’s thigh. “Focus on mining, meow! If you disrespect the pickaxe and the ore, they won’t reward you with anything good, meow! Save the training for the arena back in town, meow!”

“…Alright.”

Under Seagi’s stern glare, Oran forcefully pushed aside his chaotic thoughts and concentrated fully on the mineral veins before him.

The crisp, rhythmic tapping resumed.

Soon, a fist-sized piece of sparrowstone tumbled down along with many tiny stone fragments. Seagi crouched to carefully gather them.

It didn’t miss the small pieces containing metallic minerals either. Large, high-grade ore was rare, but collecting enough mineral shards would still allow the workshop to help with smelting.

“See, meow! Focus brings results, meow!” Seagi proudly held up a deep blue stone to Oran.

Oran nodded and continued with the steady clinking sounds.

In this open-air mineral vein, they collected two pieces of sparrowstone, several iron ores, and some scattered earth crystals—a decent haul.

If they found three or four more similar veins, their main objective for this trip would be basically complete.

After organizing their finds, the pair set off to seek the next suitable mining spot.

As they walked, Seagi suddenly stopped, tugging on Oran’s shirt to signal him to halt.

“Did you see something?” Oran crouched immediately, whispering.

“Look over there, meow!” Seagi pointed to a shadowed area on the shaded side of a rock face some dozens of meters away. Two dull yellow creatures lay silently against the vertical wall, seemingly asleep.

They measured about two meters long (officially 295 cm), bodies flat and elongated like stretched shields.

Their thick, robust armor shells faintly reflected a metallic sheen, the mere sight of which conveyed their hardness.

These were the targets of their current hunt—Shieldbugs, a very peculiar species of small monster.

Though not especially fierce or dangerous, they were a notorious nuisance that vexed hunters endlessly.

Their tough carapace boasted astonishing defense; not only his hunter’s dagger, even high-level weapons struggled to pierce it at first strike.

Besides slashing with the pair of semicircular pincers on their heads, they could curl their bodies into a ball and roll to ram opponents.

This rolling attack was swift and quiet, usually easy enough to dodge.

But imagine you’re locked in battle with a large monster, and at a critical moment, a Shieldbug with no grudge suddenly rolls out from some corner and crashes into your lower back…

Countless hunters had suffered grievous injuries, defeats, or even death due to this.

Sometimes they climbed onto other monsters and stayed still, turning those creatures into walking fortresses from the hunters’ perspective, sharply increasing the difficulty of the hunt.

What troubled the guild most was that Shieldbugs had no natural predators. The only known creatures to feed on them were giant birds.

But giant birds also ate worms, insects, fish, crustaceans, and weren’t specialized Shieldbug predators.

Moreover, the desert area around Lokrak had no giant birds. To prevent Shieldbug overpopulation, the guild periodically issued quests recruiting hunters to clear them out—a typical pest control task.

The only saving grace was that with the right method, handling these small monsters was not difficult. Even a novice like Oran could deal with them easily.

“Seagi, keep watch around us.”

“Okay, meow.”

Though intelligence reports indicated no large monster activity nearby, caution never hurt. With that, Oran strode toward the two Shieldbugs resting on the rock wall.

He made no effort to conceal himself. The two Shieldbugs likely noticed him but did not leave their resting spot.

For countless generations, natural selection had taught them that lying still was the best defense.

This time, however, it was clearly a miscalculation.

Oran approached one Shieldbug closely but did not draw his weapon. Instead, he picked up the pickaxe and inserted its pointed tip into the narrow gap between the Shieldbug’s shell and the rock face, then pried forcefully.

The Shieldbug was levered off the wall and tumbled helplessly onto the ground, writhing.

Its back armor was extraordinarily tough, but its belly was fragile and soft. Oran drew his hunter’s dagger and stabbed straight in.

“Squelch—”

Greenish fluid oozed from the wound, and the Shieldbug twitched before falling still, a strangely satisfying sight.

“Next is the second one.” Oran sheathed his dagger and picked up the pickaxe again.

As a beetle species, Shieldbugs were not very intelligent, but the screams and scent of blood from their kin alerted them to danger.

It loosened its limbs, dropped from the wall, and curled into a tight ball at top speed. By the time it hit the ground, it had formed a perfect sphere about sixty to seventy centimeters in diameter, impenetrable from any angle.

Oran smirked, put away the pickaxe, and kicked the curled Shieldbug.

Enraged, it started rolling, spinning quickly as it charged at him.

“Watch out, meow!” Seagi called out. “Getting flattened by one of those really hurts, meow!”

How it knew that, no one knew.

If this had happened amid a battle with other monsters, the rolling Shieldbug would be a real nuisance, but now, as the only opponent, there was nothing much to say.

At the moment the Shieldbug rolled close, just about to strike, Oran braced himself and collided with it head-on, halting the rolling ball.

The Shieldbug seemed stunned, its curled body loosening somewhat.

Without giving it a chance to curl again, Oran dashed forward and thrust his hunter’s dagger into the gap between its loosened shell plates, twisting the hilt with force.

Severely wounded, the Shieldbug could no longer maintain its curled form and stretched out its body.

Oran casually followed with a finishing stab, putting it down.