Chapter 86

The black land.

Beyond the horizon, the wilderness was completely dyed in pitch black, with only thick fog rising.

Not a single living creature remained.

The insects had suffocated from the miasma and lost their lives, and every plant had withered and crumbled away.

Not even a single blade of grass was left.

In the screen, the only thing moving was a blond boy gripping a greatsword.

…A contaminated zone, huh? Quite a harsh setting.

The precursor and traces of monsters, the miasma, corrodes the world.

Until it becomes a barren land where no life can be born.

That’s why it’s customary for a priest capable of performing purification miracles to always accompany monster extermination missions.

Unlike insects or plants, humans can endure in contaminated zones for a while, but… if they stay too long, they’ll eventually be corroded by the miasma and lose their lives.

Therefore, to fight monsters, one must either bring enough priests or possess the skill to end the battle quickly.

Damien’s complexion was also slightly paler than usual.

Of course. With every breath, the acrid miasma must be seeping into his lungs.

And then, the fog gathered in one place.

Like a drain opening underground, a black spiral swirled and descended.

Finally, the miasma collided with the ground and exploded outward in all directions.

A black storm raged.

Damien covered his face with his left arm.

And then…

– Grrrrrr…!

It rose to its feet.

About 2 meters tall. A figure resembling a human, but clearly not human.

A monster made of skeletal remains, with rotten entrails as tendons and clinging miasma as muscles.

Its legs were oddly bent, perhaps horse bones.

Where the pelvis should be, a human skull was placed.

A spine and ribs connected to the skull trailed behind like a tail.

Its forward-curved backbone had small horns sprouting from each joint, and instead of ribs, six pairs of human arm bones with fingers wriggled incessantly.

A half-rotten horse skull, where the head should be, glowed with blue light and rattled.

From its shoulders, entrails hung like tentacles instead of arms.

At the ends of the entrails, rusted swords were tangled.

A Corpses Raised by Magic, huh? Disgustingly creepy.

Milia, watching the screen, swallowed hard.

“Everyone, pay attention. That is a monster. A Corpses Raised by Magic, ‘Mixed Remains.’ A small monster that mainly appears in old battlefields.”

Kal-lain continued his explanation calmly.

“Since it’s a small type, five or six knights should be enough to subdue it… but due to the nature of Corpses Raised by Magic, it won’t be easy without a priest’s assistance or proper preparation.”

Damien currently has no such means.

…He’s not going to win. Of all things, a Corpses Raised by Magic. If it were a Hybrid Beast, it might’ve been manageable.

Or was it chosen deliberately? To emphasize the danger of monsters?

Whatever it is, well, it’s entertaining to watch.

I finally gazed with interest at the fully formed monster.

“Graaaaaah!”

The remains roared.

The human hands forming its ribs reached toward the sky as if in prayer.

The boy gripping the greatsword charged at the monster.

—-

You must know the technique called variation.

A musical piece that endlessly repeats the same melody with slight variations.

That was being played.

Using bone fragments, entrails, blood, and screams as musical notes.

– Crash!

Damien dodged the whip-like strike of the sword.

The rusted sword, striking the ground, bounced back elastically and chased after him.

“Tch…!”

Blocking with the flat of his sword, Damien swung his greatsword again.

The entrail arm was severed in one blow, splattering black fluid.

And then, it continued.

Black smoke rose from the severed part, regenerating the lost arm.

Just like before.

“Grrrr…”

The rusted whip swung again.

They say the tip of a whip can exceed the speed of sound when swung by a human.

After blocking several times, Damien was flung back, rolling on the ground.

He sprang up and charged again.

The right choice. He had to maintain close range.

If the monster’s attack pattern was swinging its arm like a whip, then the inside would be the safest place.

Ducking under the tentacle aiming for his head, he planted his hand on the ground and dove in like a swallow.

The tentacle caught on the greatsword was severed, creating a brief opening.

“Haaaah!”

Damien brought the greatsword down vertically, aiming for the monster’s head—the half-rotten horse skull.

And it was blocked.

– Crunch!

Like the sound of shoveling gravel.

With the overlapping crushing sound, the greatsword’s movement stopped.

The twelve arms lined up like ribs had grabbed Damien’s sword.

Ten arms shattered like crackers, but the last two arms held firm as the sword’s force finally gave out.

And then, it regenerated.

The twelve arms tightly gripped the sword.

“Let… go!”

Damien released the hilt and kicked the greatsword with his weight.

The blade, propelled by the recoil, shattered the entangled bones and broke free.

He grabbed the greatsword again and swung for the neck. The horse head flew into the air.

Ah, that’s a misjudgment.

It’s not like a troll.

The next moment, the headless monster slammed into Damien.

With a single groan, Damien was knocked down.

Right. Trolls are living creatures, so…

If you cut off their necks, they can’t regenerate and will soon lose their lives.

However, the Corpses Raised by Magic are already dead beings. Their necks aren’t particularly a weak point for them.

Without any means to stop their regeneration, the only way to kill the Corpses Raised by Magic is to smash them over and over until they can’t regenerate anymore.

At least they’re not ghost types. That would’ve been a nightmare since attacks wouldn’t even work on them.

The battle continues.

Damien’s longsword shatters the monster’s leg bone, and the monster’s tail slams into Damien. The monster regenerates, and Damien gets back up.

His body is gradually accumulating more wounds. Cuts from a rusty sword, no, torn-off gashes. Bruises from being hit by bone clubs. Even abrasions from rolling on the ground.

His appearance is also stained with black fluid and dark energy, looking all blotchy.

“Damien…”

Milia muttered with pity. Well, even if it’s an illusion, seeing someone struggle like that would make anyone worried. Though she didn’t react much when other students got their heads ripped off.

“As you can see, engaging in combat against Corpses Raised by Magic without suitable means… even with sufficient skill, it’s easy to end up in a dire situation.”

Professor Kal-lain calmly continued his explanation. The students watched Damien’s struggle without blinking. Watch closely. That’s your future.

Damien, who had suddenly become a teaching aid, rolled around pitifully on the screen.

—

Eighty minutes. The battle lasted a whopping eighty minutes.

“Grrrrrr…”

The monster’s body crumbled. Bone fragments that could no longer regenerate shattered and spilled out, and its rotting innards oozed out.

The horse’s skull, rolling on the ground, let out its final groan in two pieces. The blue flames in its eye sockets slowly faded.

After over an hour of fierce combat, surprisingly, Damien emerged victorious. Though he didn’t look much like a winner.

A broken longsword. A severed left arm. Shattered leg bones. His entire body was stained black with dark energy, and one of his eyes was torn out, with bloody tears streaming down.

“With injuries like that, most would wake up from fear and pain… He really is an exceptional student. His skills are beyond expectations too.”

Even Professor Kal-lain couldn’t hide his admiration. Well, a future hero should show that kind of grit.

I felt good too. Already achieving victory against Corpses Raised by Magic? That’s quite an encouraging result.

It was worth asking Freide to beat me up. Maybe I should ask Nigel next time.

As the monster vanished, the polluted area began to disappear, bit by bit from the edges. Normally, the pollution wouldn’t just vanish on its own, so it must be preparing to change to the next setting.

Sure enough, the screen started to darken.

—

The setting for the fourth battle was an ordinary grassland. Shallow grass and weeds stretched across the midday landscape.

Damien, who had been kneeling and panting, stood up again. As if to remind him it was just a dream, his broken sword and all his wounds had miraculously healed.

Though his drained mental energy probably hadn’t fully recovered.

“By the way, Professor, who’s the next opponent? We already took care of the monster. Is another one coming?”

One of the students asked Professor Kal-lain.

“No. I only prepared that one monster. I thought the ‘mixed remains’ would be enough for this lecture. That was more of an unexpected situation.”

Professor Kal-lain shook his head. Well, it’s hard to expect a first-year to fight a Corpses Raised by Magic until it collapses from exhaustion.

“Then, the likely opponent would be… Ah, yes. I’ll show you the one he fears the most. As per the true nature of nightmares.”

The one he fears the most? I can’t even guess what’s coming. Is it Natalia?

If I had participated, maybe the final boss would’ve shown up… Good thing I didn’t. Not that I could’ve anyway.

And then the enemy revealed itself.

“Huh…!”

The lecture hall erupted in shock. Everyone was stunned, even Professor Kal-lain and Milia. And me too.

The enemy that appeared wasn’t a monster, nor a beast, not even a beastman.

A human shrouded in red killing intent, with blue flames blazing from both eyes. A warrior clad in scale armor, gripping a blue longsword in his right hand.

His fierce aura surged like a storm, his roughly tied hair flaring up and fluttering in the air.

With every step, the air distorted. The surrounding weeds twisted and tore apart.

He bared his fangs and laughed like a demon.

It was me.

……Wait, why am I there?