Chapter 124

He grabbed the water pouch and chugged the water down in big gulps.

The lukewarm stream of water moistened his dry throat, spreading vitality to every corner of his body.

His body, now sufficiently hydrated, began to recover at an even faster pace.

“Phew…”

With each breath, energy returned to his exhausted body.

The muscles that had been spasming in pain just moments ago had now quieted down as if nothing had happened.

The wounds pressed by the muscles and bandages had already stopped bleeding, and the pain in his shoulder had become bearable.

It wasn’t that the wounds were healing on their own… but they were manageable enough to fight.

Even though it was his own body, it was still ridiculously resilient.

It wasn’t just human-level toughness—it was on par with monsters.

The only problematic area was his left arm.

Looking down, his left arm was still bruised all over and trembling slightly.

Thanks to his anti-magic resistance, the curse hadn’t dug too deep, but there were no signs of improvement either.

It would probably stay like this until he could see a priest and get treated.

He poured the remaining water from the Ice Blade onto the ground, washing it off roughly before putting it back in its case.

He then slipped the glove he had stored there back onto his left arm.

Standing up, he began checking his equipment.

His armor was mostly intact, except for a few cracks on one shoulder and the skirt part.

One of his boots had been torn by a spear, but it wasn’t a serious damage.

This should be fine.

His stamina had mostly returned, so it was time to get moving.

Staying here any longer wouldn’t magically heal his wounds.

He shook off the blood clinging to his blade and started walking toward the fortress wall in the distance.

The atmosphere there looked ominous, and it seemed like something could jump out at any moment… but there was no other exit anyway.

So—

– Oooom!

A sudden noise. The blade of Durandal in his hand vibrated wildly, as if urgently warning him of something.

A chilling cold ran down his spine. A horrifyingly ominous premonition.

His body instinctively shifted into a combat stance before his mind could catch up.

His breathing grew rough, and his stomach tightened from the tension.

He felt a gaze.

A gaze so dark and overwhelmingly powerful that it was impossible to measure.

Coming from somewhere beyond the void.

The words of Rana, Lacey, and Knut flashed through his mind.

They had said the gods were watching over him.

At this moment, he finally became certain.

They’re watching me.

Goosebumps covered his entire body.

The pressure from just feeling that gaze was enough to crush his soul.

If this overwhelming presence wasn’t a god, then what could it possibly be?

【D҈̬̖̬̥͆͊̉̀̕͜u҈̨̛̲͕̬̖͒́ ȩ̵̜̣͈̟̪҇̈́͌̋͆͊r̷̨̭͓͉̈͛̚͞ t̸̨̛͍̭͉̝̖̾̏æ̸̧̙̮͍̆͐̕t҈̧̤̳͍̥̿̎͌̌͛͡ p̶̨̮̫̗͉͗̄́̑͠å̴̛͎̲̫̝̀̈̎͢ͅ.】

【So close.】

An incomprehensible language echoed in his mind.

At that moment, a terrifyingly dense wave of dark energy erupted around him like a volcano.

The surroundings turned pitch black.

His senses, sharpened to their limit, screamed as if warning him of imminent danger.

The growling breath of beasts. Heavy footsteps. A nauseating stench.

The ground shook with their overwhelming presence.

When the darkness of the energy cleared, seven monsters stood before him.

They were about 2 meters tall, clad in black armor.

Their appearance was somewhat human-like, but their heads and legs were beastly.

At a glance, they could be mistaken for armored beastmen.

However, the thick miasma and their half-rotten forms proved they were monsters, not beastmen.

Inside their gaping mouths, thick, long tentacles writhed in place of tongues, and their arms were fused with weapons.

Mushrooms grew out of their hollow eye sockets.

Compared to the grotesque hybrid monsters he had seen before, these were clearly more refined in appearance.

He recognized them.

‘Warriors of Valtir.’

Each one was nearly master-level in strength. And there were seven of them.

Cold sweat dripped down his back.

Even at his best, he wouldn’t stand a chance against them. In his current state, it was impossible.

Death was staring him in the face.

Damn it.

Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on the sword. Durandal emitted a cold light.

This was supposed to be a light dungeon run for training. How did it come to this?

Was he really going to die here, just like that? He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t.

The divine presence that had been watching from the void slowly faded, as if its business was done.

Were they planning to kill me, you damn bastards…!

Cursing at the mysterious god, he placed his trembling left hand on the hilt of the sword.

The Warriors of Valtir growled and laughed.

A laughter filled with killing intent. He forced a smirk in return.

If he let himself be overwhelmed by their presence, he’d be defeated without even putting up a fight.

Elpinel, Shaulite, whoever’s watching, save me…!

He called out the names of gods he rarely relied on.

If the one who had put him in this mess was a god-like being, then only gods could help him now.

There was no response.

Nothing happened.

Only Durandal’s blade vibrated pitifully.

Yeah, I didn’t expect anything. Useless bastards…!

The Warriors of Valtir took a step forward.

Their heavy footsteps shook the ground.

The ground shakes, so heavy that it feels like the earth beneath my feet is trembling… Wait, is it actually shaking?

A shallow earthquake seems to be happening, the ground vibrating like crazy.

What the heck is this?

It’s not the work of those monsters. They’re only about 2 meters tall, no way their footsteps could cause this kind of vibration…!

– Rumble!

A sound like thunder echoes from beyond the monsters, from the direction of the fortress walls.

The Warriors of Valtir turn to look. My gaze follows.

The fortress gate is opening.

Slowly, with a heavy vibration that shakes the ground.

A massive stone gate, carved from solid rock, splits open, digging into the earth as it moves.

Inside, it’s so dark you can’t see a thing.

And then, footsteps echo.

The clanking of metal. The dull thud of something heavy hitting the ground.

It was the sound of someone in armor.

Pushing open the gate, which is dozens of centimeters thick, with just the strength of their arms, it reveals itself.

A knight.

A shadowy knight, clad in rusted, tattered armor.

Green light glows from within the helmet, and a blackened longsword pulses with an eerie energy.

My fighting spirit wanes.

Not only is there no divine help, but the thing that appeared is also a monster.

An Undead Knight.

A powerful monster, even among the higher ranks of the Corpses Raised by Magic.

Their strength varies greatly, but even the weakest of them is at least master-level.

In other words, the enemy’s combat power is at least six masters, and the maximum is beyond estimation.

Despair weighs on my shoulders.

There’s no chance of winning.

—

Rescue always comes in the most unexpected situations.

That’s probably why it’s called rescue.

The Warriors of Valtir react strangely upon seeing the Undead Knight.

They turn away from me, grinding their teeth and raising their arms toward the knight.

Clearly showing hostility and enmity.

Even though they’re both monsters, it’s as if they’ve encountered an enemy.

“Grooooooar!”

The bear-headed monsters roar ferociously, their jaws wide open.

The knight who emerged from the gate raises his sword toward them.

What happens next is almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

The Undead Knight charges at them, black miasma swirling like a cape.

Before I can blink three times, the knight is already in the midst of them.

A storm of swords ensues.

The knight’s longsword, pulsing with dark energy, clashes with the warriors’ weapons.

The sound of metal clashing rings out continuously, loud enough to shake the cavern.

Seven Warriors of Valtir.

Against seven monsters, any two of which could defeat a master, the Undead Knight’s sword dances.

The knight’s longsword never stops.

Deflecting axes, parrying swords, dodging spears.

With every black arc the longsword draws, the Warriors of Valtir bleed.

It’s like a scene from a legendary hero’s tale.

I forget my fighting spirit and just stare blankly at the sight.

Monsters fighting monsters.

Confusion fills my mind.

Something I’ve never seen or heard of before. A situation I never imagined.

“Raaaaaah!”

The wounded monsters roar in anger.

The Warriors of Valtir are no weak monsters, but the Undead Knight’s strength surpasses theirs.

This isn’t just the level of an ordinary master.

Even at my full strength, I couldn’t win against this power.

The victor of this fierce battle will likely be the Undead Knight.

My hand holding the sword trembles.

Should I intervene? I’m not sure.

Well, I get that these two monsters are enemies to each other.

I don’t know why, but they’re clearly trying to kill each other.

But can I really consider the Undead Knight my ally? I can’t be sure of that.

The Warriors of Valtir are clearly my enemies. They showed hostility the moment they saw me.

But what about the Undead Knight?

Just because my enemy’s enemy is my friend is too naive.

It’s also a monster, and even a Corpses Raised by Magic. One of those beings that hates the living.

What if the Undead Knight, after slaughtering the Warriors of Valtir, turns its sword on me?

I can’t think of a way to win.

The best outcome for me would be both monsters destroying each other, but that doesn’t seem likely.

But if I intervene to make that happen, I’m not sure it’ll work out.

If the Undead Knight switches its target to me after being attacked, it’d be the worst-case scenario.

What should I do?

Attack or watch?

I ponder the best choice as I watch the monsters’ battle.

The fierce battle between the monsters grows even more intense.