188th Chapter: The Last Guardian
Screeeech!
The Vestark and the curved sword crossed repeatedly.
I tried to carve out an escape route using the Fish Sword Art, but it was hopeless. It’s as if he has eyes on his back; he effortlessly blocks all attacks coming from my sides and rear.
“Damn it! Park Jeong-yong’s Juggling Show! Show-show-show! What the heck!”
But it was only for a moment.
As I began to manipulate the Sword of Annihilation with Fish Sword Art, Dyrus started to fall behind, missing my attacks more frequently.
“Grrrr…!”
Psshhh. Gashes appear on his body, and his breathing became noticeably labored.
Dyrus quickly takes a step back. He throws a few rocks in my direction as I move in to pursue.
“Detonate!”
Ziiing. Strange resonating sounds fill the air as the rocks emit a blue glow.
Recalling the activation words he had just spoken, I hastily back away to create some distance.
Kaboom! The rocks explode in a chain reaction, unleashing a shockwave.
“Ugh!”
I didn’t resist the aftermath of the explosion. It was better to pull back for a moment rather than waste energy resisting futilely.
The mistake in judgment was evident immediately afterward.
“Urk…?!”
Taaang!
Gunshots pierce through the smoke, and two fiery red lines pierce my chest.
The black smoke from the explosion gradually clears, revealing Dyrus standing beyond it, double-barrel pistols in hand, his shoulders heaving.
“This bastard… using ranged weapons in the holy Tower Battle…!”
Blood flows out in streams through the gaping holes in my chest.
My black cloak grows soaked with blood almost instantly. My body feels heavy and dizzy.
A fatal wound. I grind my teeth and swallow the last remnants of water ether I had left.
“I’m going to kill you. All monsters… must die.”
And whissssh! Dyrus repeatedly pulls out curved swords from inside his coat and throws them at me.
Chaaang! Like watching a circus act, the curved swords come flying from unpredictable angles. I fend some off before resorting to the Seven Sword Pierce move to sweep my surroundings.
“Damn this nuisance!”
Papa-pak!
The Vestark, Espada, and the Sword of Annihilation all unleash spirit blades. A total of twenty-one spirit blades knock the curved swords out of the air and then close in on Dyrus.
“Grr…!”
Had I Fatal Boosts, I could’ve taken the offensive, but alas, my Evolution Black Wings state had been spent.
As expected, Dyrus effortlessly deflected the spirit blades coming at him. The move only had the effect of a brief hindrance.
‘This has to be close-range combat!’
I had been trying to keep my distance due to his unconventional attacks, but this guy is actually more dangerous from afar.
I throw out spirit blades once more to obscure his vision.
“Die! Die!”
Dyrus repeats the same words as he dodges the spirit blades with swift steps.
A black shadow glides effortlessly between countless spirit blades, almost like it’s dancing.
“Die yourself, damn it!”
I infused the Sword of Annihilation with spirit power, which I controlled using Fish Sword Art, and launched the Stinger.
Kaboom! The blast flung Dyrus back from the explosion. Though Dyrus anticipated the strike and bent down, he reacted a fraction of a second too late.
His body violently stumbles.
‘Now!’
I spot an opening and close in through the curtain of spirit blades.
“Die!”
Two swiftly thrown curved swords graze my shoulder and neck but miss critical areas by a paper-thin margin.
And in battle, fortune follows averting a crisis. This time was no exception.
“Chains of Shadows!”
Cherrrlick! I fire twenty chains at him.
This technique drains spirit power significantly, so I’d rather not use it unless necessary. But when the perfect opportunity arises, there’s no more reliable technique than this!
“!”
Papa-pak!
Dyrus deftly evaded the chains while deflecting spirit blades, but one chain wrapped around his foot from an angle.
Once one leg was trapped, the rest followed quickly. The other leg, both arms, and finally, his neck are all ensnared. The pitch-black chains constrict tightly around him.
“Khh… ugh…!”
Dyrus desperately struggles to break free, but alas, there’s no intention of letting him go. I calm my heavy breathing and a smile of triumph crosses my lips.
Grrr. The spirit-charged Sword of Annihilation hovers ominously over Dyrus’ head.
“Drop your head nice and clean. I’m going to split you in half.”
Like an executioner ready to strike, I spit on my hand and grasp the sword’s hilt. Slowly, I raise the blade.
Glaring into Dyrus’ eyes, filled with hatred, rage, and obsession. And then I struck. The Sword of Annihilation lunges forcefully toward Dyrus’ head.
In that fleeting moment, time seems to slow down.
“Shotgun. Lightning Thief.”
A frail female voice rang out from behind me.
Zzzzzt! In an instant, searing lightning strikes my whole body.
“Kaaaaaahh!”
For a moment, it feels like my consciousness blinks off and back on again.
When I open my eyes, I realize I’m doing some intense kissing with the floor.
…
…?
… What is…
‘What in the world is happening!’
Paralyzed on the floor, my body writhes uncontrollably.
This isn’t my will. Every time sparks fly around my body, they’re accompanied by intense pain that causes my body to twitch violently like a stranded fish.
“Light… li, lightn, lightning?”
After quite some time, I realize what has happened – I’ve been hit by a sudden lightning strike from behind. My mouth is numb, and I struggle to speak, my words slurred.
“Some ki, kind of… b, bastard…”
My brain feels like a glittering mirror ball.
My cognitive circuits aren’t functioning properly. It’s like I went clubbing in Itaewon, got caught up in a fire-dancing act, and ended up with a coronavirus outbreak.
The feeling is of emptiness in my head.
– Shotgun. Lightning Thief.
It’s only after some time that I remember the voice from behind and painfully twist my convulsing body to look back.
“You, y… you’re…”
Far off, on the rooftop of a nearby factory stands a woman.
She holds what looks like two massive tank turrets in her hands, their barrels spitting lightning.
That’s her.
She’s the one who hit me with lightning without a doubt.
“What the… hell are you doing?”
As I desperately try to identify her, the masked-like respirator obscures everything below her eyes. Even the exposed part is distorted by flickering firelight.
All I can make out is her scarlet hair, burning brighter than actual flames.
And beneath that, cold, polished crimson eyes.
“… Wh?”
Red hair. Crimson eyes?
A familiar silhouette flashes through my mind, and I instinctively close my mouth.
The woman holding down the opposite rooftop lowers the massive turrets she had and speaks instead.
“Sorry for being late, Moskden. Dyrus.”
Whoosh! Flames burst dramatically behind her.
Hissing. Thick, raspy breathing mixes with her voice from within the smoldering respirator.
The groggy-eyed woman, but not at me. She gazes at me sprawled on the ground like a fishmonger’s catch on ice.
“Finish him. Just like you always do.”
I follow her gaze upward.
Somehow, Dyrus has freed himself from the chains, holding his curved sword in reverse grip and pressing his foot against my back.
“Tch.”
The situation has been completely reversed.
A short burst of hollow laughter escapes me, stunned.
‘So, something felt off.’
Dyrus and Moskden. There’s no point in the two of them blocking separate paths alone. If they split up, intruders could easily slip through the third path.
It’d be better if they stuck together.
‘There was… another woman from the start.’
That woman must’ve joined us from the amusement park, likely taking the third path.
Why, why exactly she’s aligned herself with these escape knights and is hindering me, I don’t know.
But I clenched my fists tight.
“Next time, I’ll definitely… kill you. Starting with you.”
I move my numb lips carefully, muttering with determination and gritted teeth.
The crimson-haired, crimson-eyed woman watching me from a distance makes a sorrowful curve with her eyes.
She’s smiling.
“You really do talk like a Witch Knight. Like you don’t care about your own death, your situation, your chances… How nostalgic. The way you used to look straight at our little witch still stands out vividly to me.”
“…”
“I admired that gaze the most. And feared it the most as well.”
With a slight tone of bitterness, the woman speaks one last word before turning away as if losing all interest. Swish! Her long red hair flutters roughly in the flaming heat.
Patt-patt. Her feline, soundless footsteps fade as she’s swallowed up by the flames.
“The Goddess has commanded it. Execution.”
And immediately after, the execution commences.
Crack. Dyrus drives the curved sword into my back, violently slashing it around while keeping it embedded.
Crunch. The unpleasant sound of bones being twisted and organs pierced makes its way up my spine.
“Kh, aaaaahhhhhh!”
I convulse wildly like a worm on a fishing line.
Dyrus doesn’t end it there. Likely because my death was already certain.
“Kh, ughhh…”
I glance down. Most of my internal organs have spilled out. On the rooftop’s heat, the pool of blood bubbles. It’s enough to boil a large pot of Park Jeong-yong specialty bone soup.
Perhaps my spine and nerves were damaged because my body didn’t move at all and I no longer felt any pain. In a way, this was fortunate.
“…”
I realize it instantly. Even the water ether can’t save me now, let alone Grandmother’s magic.
I’m going to die soon.
“Monsters. Die. All monsters must die. This… is right.”
Dyrus muttered, looking at my broken body and then turned away without hesitation.
He quickly rushed to Moskden and began rummaging through his large bag.
“… Mosk.”
Soon, Dyrus hastily pulled out a blue syringe from the bag and aligned it with Moskden’s severed body.
And crack. He injected it into both upper and lower halves.
“Mosk. Mosk…”
Dyrus kept murmuring while staring fixedly at Moskden’s body.
A pale blue glow enveloped Moskden. The body that had been split in half slowly began to join. It seemed as though a faint hope flickered in Dyrus’ eyes, but with a soggy plop, Moskden’s body failed to connect, and the blue light disappeared.
Red ink continues to spill from Moskden’s severed body.
“O Goddess. Do you truly… exist?”
For the first time, emotion could be detected in Dyrus’ voice – violent sorrow.
Dyrus’ hand fell lifelessly to the floor.
“Duey, I… obeyed… as Goddess commanded. Even though I was… afraid.”
Moskden’s voice came out with unusual strength, burning like the last candle before it goes out.
“… Well done.”
Dyrus briefly said a word and then slumped down in front of him.
He knelt, staring vacantly at the floor without end.
“Damn it… seriously, you’re all overdramatic.”
And I ridiculed their overly sentimental theatrics. I pulled out the Box of the Dead with trembling hands.
I began writing a blood letter in the freshly saturated crimson all around me.
‘Important… information, whatever it is…!’
There’s no time, no energy left for long words. I will die within 30 seconds.
Even as death approached, I forcefully pushed back the encroaching fear of death. One by one, I completed the blood letter.
“Thank you. Monster Hunter.”
Dyrus, I’ll make you regret not finishing me off while distracted by your buddy.
With that thought, I placed the blood letter inside the Box of the Dead.
“Cough.”
I exhaled my last breath.
Plop. Strength left my hand. My eyelids feel heavy.
An unpleasant drowsiness overwhelmed me. There was no resisting it.
*
[The Undying Regression Point has been updated.]
[Date – Continental Year 1108, July 13, 23:15]
[Location – Unterland. District 10, Downstream Area of the Valley of the Dead]
It’s been quite some time since the death warning mark appeared.
“… Wow. That would’ve been strange if it didn’t.”
I read the panel absently, confirming half of my suspicion.
Somewhere among the three paths are those problematic escape knights. Otherwise, there’s no reason for the regression point to update at this exact moment.
“In any case, let’s prepare.”
While veering off to turn into a side street to the right, I prepared to jot down notes and place them inside the Box of the Dead.
This process had practically become semi-automatic by now.
“Hmm?”
However, reaching for the Box of the Dead, I let out a startled gasp.
The Box of the Dead was already glowing.
“Whaaaat. Not again?”
Brief brain freeze. Buffering.
After about three seconds, I nod in understanding.
Park Jeong-yong’s adaptability has reached this point.
