Damien, with Milia’s support, wobbled as he stood up. His sense of balance was completely messed up, making it hard to adjust. He couldn’t even tell if he was standing straight or leaning towards the ground.
“…! ……?! …Curse… this…!”
Milia was shouting urgently, but Damien could barely hear her. He only guessed her intentions by seeing the holy water she offered.
‘So, it’s a curse that damages hearing. At least that’s a relief.’
Though his body kept swaying, Damien’s mind was as calm as a lake. He leaned on his greatsword, calmly assessing his condition.
His equipment was mostly intact, and aside from his ears, his body was fine. Once his balance was restored, he could jump back into the fight.
Damien downed the holy water Milia handed him and glanced at the monster—the Cursed Mother. The creature was swinging a sword and an axe, causing chaos.
It seemed the monster needed time to reuse the puppet that had incapacitated Damien, as it only had two arms to attack with.
Freide, gripping a saw with both hands, darted around the monster’s side, constantly deflecting its attacks. Her movements were both flashy and practical, dodging the sword and axe with quick steps and covering the bells with her coat whenever they jingled.
She avoided the Cursed Mother’s front, likely wary of the acidic liquid. This sometimes left openings, but Milia’s arrows kept the monster in check.
Every time an arrow flew towards the six breasts, the Cursed Mother stopped all movement to block it. This kept the stalemate barely going.
But the balance would tip the moment Freide’s stamina ran out or Milia ran out of arrows.
Damien tossed the empty holy water bottle and pulled out a recovery potion. The holy water broke the curse, and the potion regenerated his damaged eardrums.
Feeling his twisted senses rapidly recovering, Damien drew his greatsword again.
—
The fierce battle continued. The room, already a mess, was now in ruins from the fight between the three and the monster.
The brutal combat demanded blood from all. Damien, taking the brunt of the attacks, was covered in wounds. Freide’s clothes were torn and stained with blood.
Milia was the least injured, with only two fingers worn out from constantly drawing her bowstring.
But she was the most frustrated. She glanced anxiously at her quiver—only two arrows left. The scattered arrows were mostly unusable, their tips crushed and shafts broken.
Once these two arrows were shot, Milia had no way to harm the Cursed Mother. Engaging in close combat with a dagger would only make her a liability.
These two arrows had to be shot with utmost care. Milia waited, arrow nocked, for the perfect opportunity.
—
The Cursed Mother wasn’t in great shape either. Its sagging skin was torn, oozing pus and blood. One arm, holding an axe, was severed.
Its chest was unscathed, but blood poured from a gash on its forehead, drenching its face. The arm holding the bell was shattered at the shoulder, unable to lift it. Arrows embedded in its body tore through flesh with every move.
Undeterred, the monster extended the arm holding the puppet again. The flesh puppet, crushed multiple times, had regenerated once more.
This was the fourth curse. Damien urgently stepped in front of Freide, limiting the curse’s target to himself.
For Damien, this was the best decision. Even if he was cursed and incapacitated, Freide’s skills could hold out until he recovered. But if Freide was cursed, it would be hard for Damien and Milia to protect her while fighting.
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
Once again, the puppet’s curse enveloped Damien. He gritted his teeth, preparing for its effect.
The first curse had shattered his hearing. Without Freide, he would have been done for.
The second curse had ignited a fierce desire. He almost attacked Freide or Milia but calmed down by thinking of Hasalleur beating him up.
That was something he had to keep secret. If she found out he used her face as a sedative, she’d go berserk.
The third curse was one of weakness. Overwhelmed by sudden fatigue, he dropped his sword and collapsed.
Thanks to Milia’s frantic arrow barrage, he managed to recover by chugging all the remaining holy water, but…
A deep fatigue still weighed heavily on his shoulders.
‘Then, the fourth one is…’
The curse activated. A pink mist seeped into Damien’s body. His movements stopped.
“Charm…!”
Freide, who had figured out the nature of the curse, took a step back and raised her saw.
Far from protecting the defenseless Damien, her attitude was clearly one of caution.
This was a completely different side of her than before.
But for her, it was a natural reaction.
A charm curse, of all things—the most troublesome curse there is.
The charm curse turns its victim into a prisoner of love.
Even if the target is their mortal enemy, they would willingly sacrifice their life for them.
In other words, those under the charm curse would help the monsters and attack their allies.
Damien slowly turned his body, lifting his greatsword.
He turned his back, as if to protect the Cursed Mother, and raised his sword toward his allies. Freide let out a groan.
“Damien?! Snap out of it, Damien!”
Milia desperately called out Damien’s name, but he didn’t respond at all.
The Cursed Mother, sensing victory, laughed like a child.
The swung black iron greatsword drew a dark arc.
A spray of blood erupted.
—-
“AAAAAAAH!”
The laughing monster let out a scream as if it were being torn apart and retreated.
From the severed arm, a dark pool of blood gushed out.
Damien’s greatsword, extending further, grazed the monster’s neck.
The Cursed Mother’s gills split open, writhing madly.
‘Too shallow…!’
Realizing he hadn’t dealt a fatal blow, Damien flinched and charged again at the retreating monster.
“Huh? What, did he resist the curse?! Barehanded?”
“Are you okay, Damien?!”
Damien didn’t answer.
He was too busy cutting off the remaining arm to respond.
The hand holding the orb was already severed, and the greatsword, swung upward, tore into the armpit of the arm holding the doll.
The blade, without any resistance, cut through the monster’s shoulder.
“AAAAH!”
The Cursed Mother let out a venomous scream and thrust out her chest.
Acidic fluid. A direct hit would mean certain death.
Damien released the greatsword’s hilt and rolled on the ground.
The greatsword, now free from his grip, embedded itself into the monster’s body.
The fluttering hem of his clothes melted upon contact with the acidic fluid, emitting a pungent smell, but Damien’s body remained unharmed.
‘Got lucky.’
Damien muttered to himself.
A charm curse? For someone like him, it was nothing short of a miracle.
A love curse meant nothing to someone who didn’t understand love.
As expected, the curse had no effect on him.
Thanks to that, he could take advantage of the monster’s moment of carelessness.
With the most threatening curse attack neutralized, the monster’s strength was effectively halved.
“That curse isn’t something you can just tough out like that…?”
Freide, bewildered, muttered to herself as she charged at the monster, swinging her saw.
The black iron greatsword endlessly carved into the monster in a circular motion.
Not cutting, but grinding and tearing—the saw blade.
The Cursed Mother desperately resisted, but with only one arm left, it was difficult to block all the attacks.
Soon, a flash of light swept across the monster’s abdomen.
Its belly skin tore open, and a pink sac of flesh spilled out.
“UUUUAAAH!”
The sound of children crying.
The sac of flesh, now on the ground, writhed violently.
As if multiple children were trapped inside.
The Cursed Mother let out a shriek and bowed her head deeply.
As if checking the wound on her torn abdomen.
“Now! Cut off its head!”
Freide’s shout, mixed with exhilaration.
She grabbed the chains wrapped around the Cursed Mother’s arm and pulled again.
It was only a matter of time before the monster was completely defenseless.
Damien, too, saw this as the decisive moment and leaped forward.
With the intent to decapitate it like a guillotine.
At that moment, the monster raised its head.
Its mouth filled with acidic fluid.
‘This bastard, it’s not the belly but the chest…!’
Damien’s expression twisted.
The Cursed Mother hadn’t bowed her head to check the wound.
She was planning to suck her own breast and spray the acidic fluid!
Having already jumped into the air, there was no way to dodge.
Damien hastily pulled his greatsword like a shield.
He wasn’t sure if it could block the acidic fluid, but he hoped to at least minimize the damage.
A sense of death crept up his spine. His pupils dilated.
In his frantic mind, old memories flashed by.
A childhood where he couldn’t understand others.
A past where even his father rejected him, calling him a monster.
And the last words his mother left on her deathbed.