Baulder transformed into a monstrous figure, a blend of beastly features.
Crouching low, Baulder gripped his double-handed axe tightly.
“Aslan, what do you plan to do?”
To the extent that Lumel approached and asked what was going to happen without any caution, though threatening, it wasn’t quite at the level of threat a priest would pose.
Ironically, it was precisely because of this that Aslan realized Baulder was not a priest upon seeing him.
The reason was clear.
Firstly, a priest should emanate a distinct divine power.
The greatness derived from such divine power should also be palpable.
But in Baulder’s current appearance, there seemed to be no trace of such greatness or divine power.
What was visible was merely the form of a beast and the resultant might.
Moreover, this beastly form wasn’t overly complex.
From what Aslan had encountered so far, and seen in games, the priests of the Mother who birthed him often had forms intermingled with beasts ranging from three to over ten kinds.
But now, Baulder appeared to have only two components.
A body blending deer and human features with the maw of a wolf and other carnivorous canines.
That was all that could be seen.
Thus, Aslan understood that Baulder was not a priest.
That said, it didn’t mean there were no issues.
‘Is this… really monsterification?’
As far as Aslan knew, the side effects of monsterification usually involved a decline in intelligence.
If it was complete transformation into a beast rather than partial borrowing of its form, one couldn’t retain sanity.
Yet Baulder maintained his sanity.
This implied something simple.
There was a priest behind this man.
And Aslan thought.
To obtain information, subduing Baulder was necessary, not killing him.
Just as Aslan swept his cloak while observing Baulder lower his horns and crouch, Richard stepped forward.
With a thunderous stomp of a leg and an extended pair of arms.
Facing the charging assault, the human figure seemed precarious, but Aslan watched without any concern.
When the extended arms and horns clashed, Richard moved.
“Huff!”
Exhaling a battle cry, twisting the descending leg, and rotating around the extended arm.
By the time the rotation ceased, Baulder and Richard had dramatically swapped positions.
Baulder’s body ascended using Richard as leverage.
“What?!”
In shock, Baulder’s voice echoed as Richard spun and hurled him.
Kwaang!
Baulder’s massive frame crashed onto the ground. The impact shattered the floor beneath his body, and Richard prepared his fist.
Lumel’s spear followed, and Tiamat withdrew while drawing her hand axe, but Aslan stepped forward first and caught Richard’s fist.
Bang!
Richard’s fist halted by the Dragon King’s grip.
Both Lumel’s spear and Tiamat’s bow stopped simultaneously, and Aslan stepped forward, uttering a single word.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Who is dealing with whom…!”
Simultaneously with those words, a massive figure rose abruptly and charged. Shouting, Baulder swung his double-handed axe, but…
Clang!
In that instant, when Aslan’s dagger met the axe blade, it was deflected effortlessly.
The axe slid along black feathers, changing its trajectory.
Using his core strength, Baulder countered the recoil multiple times.
Dual daggers drawn, Aslan confronted the storm of strikes straightforwardly.
Clangclangclangbang!
In the process of resisting, Aslan realized that Baulder was definitely maintaining his sanity.
After all, wasn’t he a veteran of countless battles?
Having encountered numerous powerful warriors and techniques, Aslan could distinguish between brute force and skill.
To Aslan, Baulder’s attacks were technical.
Clangclangbang, bang!
Swinging the axe with core strength, targeting the neck precisely, Aslan parried and deflected it with his dagger.
“Graaaah…!”
Again, Aslan struck the axe haft swinging towards his head, deflecting it.
With the destabilized stance, Aslan’s daggers found their way through the openings.
Crack!
“Khuhk!”
An angled uppercut.
Without mercy, the thrust penetrated the twisted posture, and the merciless dagger cleanly severed Baulder’s arm.
Clunk, boom!
Likewise, the double-handed axe and the severed arm rolled on the ground.
Upon confirming the arm beginning to regenerate instantly, Aslan clenched his fists.
Woooom!
Responding to the movement, the turbine sound resonated. With immediate acceleration of the punch, Baulder couldn’t react at all.
Kuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!
Baulder’s massive body flew away without even emitting a groan.
Breaking tables, chairs, furniture, and dishes as it flew, the body collided with a wall and rebounded. Aslan shook off his fist while looking at Baulder’s fallen body.
“Grgh… still…”
Baulder’s body was regenerating.
The severed arm was already growing back, and the crushed leg during the flight was rapidly healing.
Clearly, he wasn’t a priest.
The recovery ability possessed by the priests of the Mother who birthed him wasn’t just this level.
Even so, it wasn’t something to be underestimated.
It wasn’t a level of regeneration that could simply be dismissed as mere monsterification.
‘I need to investigate further.’
Since things had come to this, Aslan decided to thoroughly examine the level, principles, and hardness of this unique monsterification regeneration.
Crossing the two daggers firmly, Aslan ran toward the fallen Baulder.
“Grgh, you son of a bitch! I’ll rip your throat out!”
Yelling curses, Baulder charged directly at Aslan. Regardless of his righteous motives of anger and revenge, none of Baulder’s intentions came to fruition.
Rushing in and swinging his horns, Aslan evaded as if foreseeing it and swung his dagger.
Torn flesh gushed blood from the neck, and Baulder gritted his teeth while swinging his fists.
Before the swing connected, Aslan threw a dark punch, and upon colliding with it, Baulder’s fist shattered.
Blood oozing out and broken bones flying, clutching them in pain, more beatings and thrusts accumulated on Baulder’s body.
Plop, crack!
Eyes burst, ribs broke, cheeks were slashed, and being kicked in the groin caused him to collapse.
Chop, snap!
Skin was cut sequentially, the newly regenerating arm fell off, the jaw was pierced, the tongue was severed, and another kick to the groin made him roll on the ground.
Whoooom, kuaang!
With a brief roar, the accelerated punch tore through the abdomen, sending him flying, shattering the ground and crashing into the wall.
It was nothing short of overwhelming violence.
Baulder was bewildered amidst this overwhelming violence.
Because it was beyond the level of brutality a normal human could exhibit.
Accordingly, Baulder’s imagination naturally pointed to a certain possibility.
“Are… are you also blessed…?”
A confident guess.
Expecting Aslan’s flustered expression, when Baulder raised his head, he saw Aslan clearly displaying an unpleasant look.
It was also Aslan, bursting with rare anger at the notion of being influenced by some priestly empowerment.
He twitched the corners of his eyes in irritation and assumed a stance.
Wide stride, high posture, fists close to the ribs. Before comprehending the motion, Aslan disappeared.
Whooom, kuurrrrung!
Leaving behind only the turbine sound and thunder.
The most powerful blow Aslan could deliver with his fist: Eagle Dropping.
At the moment the martial art cultivated by the Dragon King and mastered by Aslan was unleashed, Baulder was sent flying.
Krack, pwoosh!
A sound like a leather bag filled with water bursting. Baulder’s body emitted such a sound while breaking through the hall’s wall and flying outside.
Somewhere within the inner fortress of Velrus Neresca as evening shadows began to fall.
A thud followed by the rolling body hitting the ground, and the dust rising didn’t settle easily.
“Hack, cough, cough!”
Spitting blood and staggering, Baulder. Aslan leisurely followed such a Baulder, appearing from behind.
“—What kind of commotion? Go—”
Amidst the voices of soldiers approaching to assess the situation from afar, Baulder’s choking sounds of vomiting mingled.
Repeatedly spitting blood as if throwing up his internal organs, Baulder finally managed to raise his head slightly at the approaching footsteps.
Seeing Aslan raising a black fist high and grabbing Baulder’s collar with the other hand.
What followed was simple-minded violence.
Without a single word, Aslan plunged the Dragon King’s fist.
Bang, kuaang!
“Khk, kh-hack…!”
Each time the fist struck the flesh, strong impacts tore the skin. Whenever the fist hit the eyes, nose, or chin, the freshly regenerated bones and joints twisted.
The eyes repeatedly shattered and regenerated, distorting their shape.
Far before any talk of avenging a father or seeking revenge, there arose a pastoral beating asking for mercy.
With precise control of power, hitting exactly up to the limit of regeneration, Baulder neither fainted nor died but suffered immense pain.
Attempting to resist by extending his hands to attack, Aslan grabbed those hands and twisted them. Twisting them until they were torn off.
After several detached hands rolled on the ground, Baulder abandoned resistance and waited for the pain to stop.
Unfortunately, such a thing never happened, and thus Baulder surrendered.
“That’s enough! Enough! Please stop! Pleaseee! I’ll do anything!”
Holding both hands up to shield his face while pleading. Only then did Aslan stop his fists.
A huge beast breathing heavily, trembling in fear. In contrast stood a sturdy yet unremarkable man.
In this contrasting atmosphere, Aslan spoke.
“I’m about to ask you a few questions.”
Quietly, as if the beating moments ago never happened.
“If I get an answer I don’t want, if it’s delayed, or if you try to counter-question me… your suffering will continue.”
But opened his mouth with undeniable cruelty.
“There will be no negotiation here. Do you understand?”
When that cruelty initially broke through, Baulder hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet.
As Aslan raised his fist towards the dazed beast, making a ‘wooong’ turbine sound, Baulder convulsively shouted.
“I, I understand! I understand, so…!”
“Good.”
Aslan nodded while still gripping the cheek with his fist raised.
Terrified, Baulder gulped and stared at the general-killer.
The killer immediately questioned.
“What’s your relationship with the other rulers and the blessed ones?”
From the very first question, Baulder made a mistake.
He panicked and failed to answer.
The Dragon King’s fist showed no mercy.
Kuaang!
“Khuh, aaaah!”
The fist smashing the face. With the lens bursting and flowing down like tears, Aslan adjusted his grip on the collar and spoke.
“You know you can regenerate from injuries like these. So don’t expect any mercy in my strikes.”
A voice cold enough to instill fear.
As Aslan’s pale green eyes glinted eerily even under moonlight, Baulder shrank back.
“If you entertain any stray thoughts for even a moment, the only words you’ll be able to say from then on will be ‘help me’ and ‘I’m sorry.'”
It was a simple intimidation, but it worked effectively. Convincing through violence, Baulder trembled slightly.
He realized that failing to answer might result in something worse than death.
Thus, his answers bordered on divulging excessive information.
“They… they’re compatriots and competitors. Not sure about everyone, but some received power from the same royal wizard as me…”
“Royal wizard?”
Frowning, Aslan prompted, causing Baulder to blink fearfully and barely respond.
“Ah, no! It’s certain! There are many blessed ones, so there must be many wizards creating them! Yes, it’s definite!”
Speaking hesitantly while covering his face with large hands, Aslan looked on indifferently and thought.
This monsterification.
The phenomenon manifesting from the power of the Mother who bore him was, unlike the monsterifications Aslan had witnessed, highly pure and refined.
Typically, humans undergoing monsterification lose their sanity and intelligence.
At best, they possess animal-level intelligence. If lucky, they might reach the intelligence of a domesticated dog, but even that was rare.
However, the Baulder before him now retained his sanity.
His intellect remained intact.
Thinking clearly, even showing remarkable insight.
Aslan guessed the reason lay in the priest-turned-wizard modifying the power.
‘The question is… whether there’s a reason to make such modifications.’
Monsterification was originally intended to transform surrounding creatures or humans into indiscriminate fighters for attacking purposes.
If sanity and intelligence are preserved, it cannot be used that way.
It merely enhances power and creates uncontrollable variables.
Aslan found this change peculiar.
“What do you mean by competitors?”
Aslan believed there was an answer in Baulder’s words, and indeed, it matched expectations.
“Exactly what it means. All of us… each holding our own sphere of influence, we fight to become the true emperor. The royal wizard said the final victor would be given everything from the Northern Empire…”
To Aslan, those words sounded like this:
Several priests select rulers, bestow powers, and conduct land grabs or battle royales.
Satisfying the second question, Aslan posed another.
“The third question. Where are the watchers among those you’ve plundered?”
“Watchers?”
A puzzled expression on Baulder’s face. Aslan raised his fist, startling Baulder.
“Wait, wait! I have no idea what watcher you’re talking about! Explain! Then surely…!”
Desperately shouting, Aslan lowered his fist.
“Green. I’m referring to the Green you brought from the ship.”
“Green… You mean Greenskin? That one was taken by the royal wizard…”
Baulder’s vague response. Realizing that the next clue would only come from learning about the royal wizard, Aslan sighed.
Hearing the sigh, Baulder shrunk his shoulders, but it was of no concern to Aslan.
“Then who is this royal wizard?”
This time, there was no immediate answer. A flicker of hesitation crossed Baulder’s face, and Aslan raised his fist without hesitation.
At least a few more punches would be needed to make him compliant.
“Astrid! Astrid!”
But before the punch could launch, Aslan paused as Baulder shut his eyes tightly and blurted out the name.
Realizing the absence of impending pain, Baulder slowly opened his eyes and faced Aslan, who looked down at him with a rigid expression.
“…Astrid?”
Asking dubiously. Baulder nodded blindly, and Aslan released his collar with a troubled expression.
Thud, the massive body hit the ground, and Baulder cautiously retreated from Aslan, who shook his head sorrowfully.
The power of monsterification. Clearly modifying the obvious signs of priesthood and distributing it among rulers was, in fact, evidence of priesthood.
Up to that point, there was no issue.
The problem lay in the name Astrid.
Because it was a name Aslan knew.
“Damn it.”
Muttering under his breath, Aslan placed his hand on his waist, unable to hide his agitation.
Watching this, Baulder’s eyes darted around, prompting Aslan to let out a deep sigh.
Astrid was a friend Aslan befriended while staying in the Northern Empire and a royal wizard.
A warm-hearted wizard who loved her homeland, the Northern Empire, and wanted to halt the ever-expanding distant world seeping in.
Her abundant black hair and striking eyes.
Their joking remarks about how they might appear as siblings standing side by side.
Recalling her, Aslan pondered.
Whether she had approached him from the start to win his favor as a priest or chose the path of priesthood for ambition.
Either way, it wasn’t a good situation.
The sigh filling the night, murmuring soldiers gradually approached Aslan.
