Chapter 130: Chapter 129 – Dust Storm and Booze Headache 

A dirt covered young man with dark brown hair, almost pitch black, coughed as a gust of wind blew more dust into his eyes and mouth. The winds were strong today, limiting visibility and causing the travel across the rural dirt roads to be a painful affair. Farmland was all that he could see from left to right, and he realized that he was quite far removed from civilization. 

But Devon persisted. With a tenacious stride, he trekked down the windy and dusty roads while shielding his face from the brunt of the dust storm with his second knapsack, an item he took from the village earlier. He needed it more than whoever the owner was, for sure. All the villagers left their houses and had already fled by the time he woke up, right under the shadow of a behemoth. 

Speaking of the behemoth, it took off in a completely unrelated direction out of the blue. Devon could’ve sworn that he saw the fur on the behemoth’s back spike up in fear right before it fled, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. 

…

The reason why the beast fled was not too far from Devon, a fiery magenta haired businesswoman with half moon spectacles and a bombshell body, her skin oscillating between a healthy peachy color and a strangely purple tone that looked quite reminiscent of the underworld. 

She strut-ran down the street with a hardened devil’s tail shaped caned whip in her hand, her breasts nearly popping out of her ragged white shirt’s bosom, an infuriated look on her face. How dare one of the thirteen clan lords send one of their warbeasts to a mortal world without filling out the proper paperwork first and receiving consent from her manager? To do such a thing was an act of insubordination at best, and a declaration of rebellion against Hades’s authority himself at worst. 

Whoever deployed the ancient behemoth must have thought themselves to be sneaky, and that Hecate would not find out about this particular breaking of the underworld’s law. But Hecate was just coincidentally deployed to this mortal world to contact Devon, and so it was an unfortunate coincidence for whoever it was that she discovered the behemoth. 

Tch. She wondered how many of the clan lords maneuvered clandestinely like this, under her manager’s nose. She had a lot of disciplining to do in the future, it looked like. 

Hecate wet her glossy pink lips in anticipation of dishing out some divine punishment on these naughty clan lords. It wasn’t every day that she could find an excuse to torture those pompous asses. 

But first, she had to catch this behemoth before it caused any more trouble in this mortal world. Her mission with Devon could wait. 

It was a game of cat and mouse, where the giant ancient demonic being was the timid mouse, and a human sized magenta haired girl was the cat on the prowl for its prey, far contrary to what conventional logic would dictate. 

The purplish-matte furred behemoth was fast, though. With its massive size, its stride length allowed it to clear entire towns in several bounds. 

A mythical encounter between an enraged goddess and an ancient warbeast of the underworld devolved into a childish game of tag. The irony of the situation was not lost to either party. 

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*Glug, glug.*

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Devon could barely find any water within the tavern, so he ended up bringing only a single waterskin and several canteens of beer. He made sure not to bring the hallucinogenic beer that he drank on that fateful day, and instead brought several clear ales with him on his journey down the dirt road.

Having any liquid to quench his thirst was a godsend, but he constantly had to pee due to the beer, and alcohol in and of itself was a dehydrating agent. Thankfully, Devon chose the lightest colored ale that he could find, so there was a good amount of water content within the booze to hold him over until he found the next town. 

Traveling on foot was a real pain, and the headache from his booze didn’t really help his case. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought so many damned coins, the gold coins were weighing him down and making the trip just that much more arduous. 

Sores began to open on his feet, but they were healed after some time from his regenerative passive. Devon felt gaunt and fatigued, his face sallow and the skin beginning to hang a bit from the constant onslaught of the dust storm and the copious volume of beer that he used to down his miseries. 

He trekked down the dusty roads only to be greeted with more neverending farmland, as far as the eye could– 

Devon’s eyes shot open. 

Trees! There was a forest in the distance! 

With renewed vigor, Devon lugged his belongings off the dusty road and onto a grassy plain, where a dust storm swirled around the forest. He could see movement from the edges of the forest. Humans? Or perhaps, more of the strange and wonderful beast races that coexisted in this world?

He squinted his eyes further, and noticed that some of them had stout bodies, trunk-like bodies. Dwarves.

But there was more. Standing near the dwarves, in an animated conversation with them, were a pair of large yet busty women. By earth standards, they were similar to Amazonians, beautiful curvy women holding spears, dressed in tribal garb. 

The dwarves and the amazonians seemed to be discussing something important, the two sides using lots of arm gestures while communicating. 

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