Kwaahaaa!
Thick clouds of lime dust rise into the air, and the well-built castle collapses.
Hanging chandeliers crash down and scatter across the floor, mingling with furniture and bodies, all crushed together in chaos.
Richard quickly disengages from the center of it all.
With enhanced strength from magical tattoos, he propels himself by kicking off the ground, spinning around to kick away boulders falling toward his fiancée perched on his shoulder.
He twists his body to avoid flying shards of broken glass and kicks collapsing walls to leap upward.
Repeating this sequence came naturally to Richard.
Having spent quite some time living in the mountains, this escape, though more challenging, was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
True, he had to protect his fiancée on his shoulder…
But even for a combatant of veteran status, this wasn’t an impossible task.
Though he had to concentrate, rolling his eyes as his still-injured joints creaked, moving them more agilely than before, he eventually succeeded.
Finally, kicking off the crumbling chimney to emerge outside, Richard cradled his fiancée in his arms and rolled once upon landing.
Through the swirling dust and dirt, the face of his fiancée appeared slightly disoriented, perhaps feeling dizzy.
‘Are you hurt anywhere?’
Her cheeks subtly redden under his gentle probing touch, yet she strives to maintain her composure.
Seeing her face, Richard confirms that the sensation beneath his fingers is only the unique softness of a woman, and reassured, he gently sets Maria down.
“Brother Richard….”
Only now do Maria’s eyes begin to take in the situation.
The Lord’s castle of Olpasbet was immense, despite its groaning protests.
Even when servants occupied only a portion of it, many rooms remained vacant.
And now, this castle was crumbling into nothingness due to the monstrous upheaval at its core.
It was a monster in human form.
Its body was indistinguishable—neither dragon nor lizard but something else entirely.
One might say it resembled an alligator.
Scales of deep green gleamed with a metallic luster, pushing aside the thin layer of lime. The peculiar venom flowing along its skin emitted a choking stench upon contact with the ground.
Forcing himself to endure the acrid smell, Richard looked up to see the head of the creature.
It was a human head.
A head that was partially decayed, partially shriveled, and partially alive, replacing the upper part of the unidentifiable dragon or lizard-like being.
Maria’s face hardened at the sight of this grotesque and twisted figure, instinctively causing nausea and revulsion.
Not being a warrior by nature, she tried hard to compose herself and appear dignified while inwardly trembling with fear.
In Richard’s experienced eyes, her terror was vividly clear. Seeing her fear, he reached out and gently stroked her hair.
As Maria flinched under the sweeping hand, Richard smiled faintly while unwrapping a bandage with his other hand.
“Stay here for a moment. I’ll be back.”
“Brother…”
Holding the loosened bandage lightly in his hand, Richard turned around.
There stood the nobleman—or rather, the monster who had been the nobleman just moments ago.
Standing about 3 meters tall, with a body length of approximately 15 meters.
Its acidic venom dripped onto the ground, dissolving the lime, though not potent enough to melt its own skin or the floor entirely.
Would a punch work?
How about a kick?
It was uncertain. However, Richard had resolved not to retreat again.
Though he lacked experience fighting such monsters, everything has a first time. The only regret was that he had to face it alone.
Kwagaaagaang!
Just as Richard lamented this fact, someone descended at that very moment.
Amidst scattering dirt and rocks, a girl with crimson hair landed—it was Angie.
“Huff… I’ve arrived.”
The girl scanned her surroundings with eerie golden eyes before fixing a steady gaze on Richard.
“Are you here too? I thought I’d be the first to arrive.”
The girl’s words were tossed out casually.
“Because I was with that thing. But how could you not stop this transformation? Pathetic.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
“The problem lies with your pathetic self.”
Caught speechless by the girl’s words, Richard scratched his cheek while cracking his neck left and right with a slight smile.
“Anyway, regardless of what happened, we need to deal with this. Mistress, others will likely arrive soon, so we must hold out together for now.”
“Don’t call me mistress. Do you have a plan?”
“…I’d rather hear yours first. You’ve trained with priests longer than I have…”
“None. Just keep pounding until death, maybe?”
Could that really be called a plan?
Richard thought so but recalled that he would have suggested something similar, so he closed his mouth.
Instead, Richard assumed a stance—raising one hand toward the sky, the other toward the ground, and angling his side toward the enemy.
Taking this stance, Richard smiled faintly, thinking he wanted to take it down before the others arrived.
“Our thoughts align, Mistress. I was thinking the same.”
“Don’t call me Mistress. It gives me goosebumps.”
“Then shall I call you Sister Angie?”
“That’s worse.”
Just call her Mistress, Richard mused silently. As the muttering girl assumed her stance and Richard stepped forward, the makeshift priest that was once the Lord of Olpasbet lunged.
Goo-oo-oo!
The roar emitted was human, yet neither Angie nor Richard hesitated. Charging forward, Richard extended his arm toward the descending front claw.
Kwaang!
The blow struck his arm—a weight so heavy it would normally shatter bones into pieces. But Richard didn’t resist. He flowed with the force, smoothly turning his body and pulling down the arm.
Thus, the trajectory of the claw followed suit, like a leaf changing direction with the wind.
Tseeeerrrrng!
And then it collided with the ground. The earth trembled, and countless pebbles flew everywhere, but Richard remained standing, limbs intact.
Next came Angie. From the moment Richard moved forward, the girl accelerated, leaving behind faint traces of afterimages as she clashed with the lord.
“Hnngh, Haaa!”
A battle cry. With the accompanying shout, the lord’s massive body was pushed back. A booming sound echoed through the air. Twisting in apparent pain, the lord swung its tail.
An incredibly long tail, making up most of its body length, thus carrying tremendous power. Richard stepped in front of Angie, crossing his arms.
“Hmph!”
A short battle cry. The tail strike connected with his hands. The tingling sensation spreading from his fingertips.
Shaking off the immense pressure, Richard spun his body forcefully, flinging the tail upward as if throwing it away. Thus, the tail bounced helplessly into the air.
‘The technique is complete, but there’s still much to improve. If my master were here, he would have countered twice already. I must continue to train.’
A fleeting thought. And then came death. Glancing sideways, Richard saw the lord’s gaping mouth exposed.
The poison coiled within.
Realizing the danger too late, someone snatched Richard’s body and leaped high.
Kwaaaaa!
The poison spewed forth, melting the ground and walls in its path. Barely avoiding it was Angie.
“Is this also a debt?!”
Carrying Richard on her shoulder, Angie leapt high into the air. Flipping mid-air to land, she grabbed a piece of debris from the fallen castle and hurled it low.
Koo-oo-ong! Bang!
Giiiiiiik!
The fragment flying at a low angle struck the face, scattering upon impact. The lizard screamed and swung its tail again. It was natural for Angie to hesitate, preparing to dodge or risk breaking her arm for a few minutes, limiting her to kicks.
As the girl’s contemplation deepened, Richard stepped forward.
Positioning himself in front of Angie, Richard planted his right foot firmly on the ground and extended both arms.
At the moment the tail touched his hands, he pivoted his body sideways and folded his arms. Folding them, he placed the tail atop his forearms. Gently, he flowed with the incoming force without resisting, redirecting its trajectory.
Harnessing this rising force, Richard added his own strength to push it further.
Kwaang!
Adding his strength to the flow, compelling compliance from the opponent—this was Richard’s way of yielding.
Thrown off balance by the redirected force, the lord wobbled significantly. Seizing the moment, both Angie and Richard charged simultaneously.
Firm fists, low stances, stable centers of gravity. Immediately afterward, punches rained down like bombardments.
This was no ordinary sound made by human fists.
While Richard’s magic-infused fists hammered away at the tough hide, Angie unleashed her full-body strength and basic techniques taught by I’taar.
Alternating blows from different directions shook the internal organs, and thick, greenish blood gushed from the lizard’s mouth, corroding the ground as it dripped.
As the lord’s human face contorted in agony, Richard furrowed his brow.
‘The skin is too tough. This won’t kill it.’
A razor-sharp blade was needed.
Something sharp enough to slice through this massive form in one go.
Just as Richard realized this need and noticed the writhing tail, a streak of light plunged downward.
Bounding off walls and roofs, accelerating with each bounce, the streak of deep crimson hair infused with azure malice.
Chaaak!
And at its center was a storm-wrapped sword blade.
The long, gleaming gray greatsword seemed ill-suited for the elven girl wielding it.
But to a master swordsman, the length of the blade held no meaning.
Phey wielded the oversized greatsword with ease.
Swinging in a perfect arc like a full moon, the blade pierced through, severing the tail which tumbled across the ground.
As the lord turned its head to scorch the source of pain with venom, an arrow flew in.
An arrow of such force that its trajectory was impossible to follow with the naked eye.
Penetrating the softened hide battered by repeated punches, the arrow exited through the flank, prompting the lord to clamp its mouth shut and twist its body.
Leaking poison from the wound, the lord grimaced in human agony.
To deliver the final blow approached Ereta and Aslan.
Emerging from the ruins of the castle, they approached differently.
Ereta charged directly, while Aslan extended his hand, using it as a kind of aiming device.
“Grasp.”
A quiet voice. Instantly, hundreds of metal feathers responded. The hundreds of floating feathers spun before shooting out.
Tududududududu!
Hundreds of daggers piercing scales. Each impact causing the lord to flinch and convulse. Contracting under these strikes, Ereta approached the lord.
Kagagagagajak, Whirrr!
Rushing forward, she dragged her axe across the ground. Approaching while dragging, gaining speed, the heat of the axe intensified. By the time she raised it to strike, it was engulfed in flames.
She delivered the flaming blow.
Dhaaaak!
Precisely splitting the front leg and carving through the side of the face before exiting. Even in pain, the lord thought.
Thinking amidst fading consciousness about why the power obtained by forsaking humanity couldn’t withstand this assault.
Of course, the answer was simpler than imagined.
These were the strongest veterans of all time, beings far beyond what a hastily created priest could contend with.
Ereta, receiving the recoil from her spinning axe, twirled gracefully. Beyond the fluttering hem of her skirt, Aslan took his stance.
Planting his legs firmly on the ground, inhaling deeply, catching falling metal feathers mid-air.
“Purity.”
‘Invoke Thunder.’
The quiet voice and the silent mantra coincided as thunder roared.
Kwarrrrrr!
Even as his senses faded, the lord could still see it.
The ancient deity’s light burning brightly, untainted by any darkness.
The light warped, twisted, surged forward, as if drawing down and swinging the thunder itself.
A flashing bolt. Following the spreading trail of white light, the lord’s side was rent open.
From the flank to the tail, the slashing sword cut through as if tearing apart. A single strike capable of severing whatever it touched.
From innards to spine, every essential component necessary for survival was severed. The lord lifted its head.
Giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
A mournful scream. The colossal body collapsed heavily. Poisonous fluids seeping out burned the ground, obscuring its form.
Aslan glanced at the scene, placing his hand on the nearly depleted Steamfalos and infusing it with mana.
Feathers embedded throughout the lord’s body were instantly pulled out, returning to Aslan.
Caressing the reassembled feather cloak, Aslan turned around.
Because there were still questions to ask the lord.
Though slashed, the lord was not yet dead, its labored breathing audible.
Listening to the breaths, Aslan opened his mouth to speak, but someone else approached the lord first.
Dragging her axe along the ground, the woman approached, raising the heated weapon high.
It was Ereta.
Dhaak!
Giiiiiiii
A painful groan. The sound emitted as the heated axe pierced through. Ereta, embedding the axe into the lord’s face, demanded,
“Where is Mother?”
A growling expression, markedly different from her usual carefree and playful demeanor. Unconcerned with the lord’s suffering, the woman gripped and twisted the axe blade while shouting.
“The artist brought our mother, Spider, where is she?”
“Ah, ya, Ereta. Hold on… calm down…”
“Implore you to answer!”
Ignoring Angie’s attempt to restrain her, the woman twisted the axe while yelling at the lord. To the trembling woman with clenched lips, the lord smirked.
A strikingly clear expression matching the enlarged head.
It was a sneer.
Ereta, disheveled, gritted her teeth upon seeing the sneer.
Because it clearly conveyed the lord’s refusal to divulge the information.
“Speak, speak! Tell me!”
Kwajik, ujik, kwajijik!
And so, the woman struck repeatedly with her axe.
Each strike shattered bones, creating deep gashes from which foul-smelling vapors rose instead of blood.
A chopping spree worthy of the term ‘butchery’.
Attacks driven purely by brute force without any technique, soon ending the lord’s life.
With drooping eyelids and a lolling tongue, the lord proclaimed its demise. Unable to contain herself, the woman collapsed.
Her screams bordered on wails.
Blood streamed from the fists pounding the ground in frustration, and her tangled hair was damp with sweat from her anguish.
Eventually, when all sounds ceased, silence fell. An oppressive silence among the gathered party, none able to utter a word.
As Ereta slumped breathlessly with her head bowed, Maria stepped forward.
“If the spider you’re referring to is the one the artist took… he released it.”
An unexpected statement, yet the least needed at that moment. Ereta lifted her head to stare at Maria with a chilling expression.
Unconsciously, Richard positioned himself in front of Maria as if to protect her.
“I don’t know much, but before entering the mine, the artist released the spider. Released it to push it deeper into the mine…”
“…My mother?”
“Yes, your mother, into the mine. Catherine didn’t investigate further because venturing deeper posed risks, but it was clear he intended something.”
As Ereta stared blankly at Maria with a confused expression, Aslan blinked, recalling something obscure that few in this world would know.
And that knowledge had helped Aslan locate the formless entity.
The implications of this fact startled Aslan.
If even a fraction of this information was known to them…
“Damn…”
The inadvertent curse drew everyone’s attention, and Aslan’s face contorted.
“We don’t have time. We need to prepare and pursue immediately.”
“What? What is it all of a sudden?”
Confused expressions arose among the group as Angie questioned.
“There’s no time to explain. But if I’m correct…”
Under the bewildered gazes of the group, Aslan spoke.
“The artist will find the verdict before us.”
Upon hearing this, the group merely exchanged perplexed looks.
