Ch.124Specter

I pulled water from my canteen and gulped it down.

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

My body, now sufficiently hydrated, recovered even faster.

“Phew…”

With each breath in and out, vitality returned to my exhausted body.

The muscles that had been cramping in pain quieted down as if nothing had happened.

The wounds compressed by muscles and bandages had already stopped bleeding, and the pain in my shoulder had subsided to a tolerable level.

The wounds weren’t healing themselves, but… they were manageable enough to fight.

It’s my body, but really, this is an absurd level of recovery.

This kind of toughness isn’t human—it’s more like a monster.

The only problematic area was my left arm.

Looking down, it was still bruised all over and trembling slightly.

Thanks to my Mana Resistance, the curse hadn’t penetrated deeply, but there was no sign of improvement either.

It would probably stay this way until I could see a priest for treatment.

I poured the remaining water over Frosting to clean it roughly before putting it back in its case.

Then I put the glove back on my left arm, the one I had stored in place of Frosting.

Rising to my feet, I checked my equipment.

My armor was intact except for some damage to one shoulder and the skirt portion.

One boot was torn by a blade, but it wasn’t serious damage.

This should be fine.

My strength has returned somewhat, so I should get going.

There’s no point in lingering here—my wounds won’t heal themselves.

I shook off the blood caked on my blade and started walking again, heading toward the wall visible ahead.

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

So—

– Woooong!

A sudden noise. The blade of Durandal in my grip vibrates wildly.

Urgently, as if warning of something.

A chill runs down my spine. An terribly ominous feeling.

My body assumes a combat stance before my mind can catch up.

My breathing becomes rough automatically. My abdomen tightens with tension.

I feel a gaze.

An infinitely dark gaze with an overwhelmingly powerful presence.

From beyond the void.

The words of Lena, Lacy, and Knut flashed through my mind.

They said the gods would be watching me.

At this moment, I became certain.

Something is watching me.

Goosebumps covered my entire body.

Just feeling the gaze created a pressure that seemed to crush my soul.

What else but a god could exude such an overwhelming presence?

【D҈̬̖̬̥͆͊̉̀̕͜u҈̨̛̲͕̬̖͒́ ȩ̵̜̣͈̟̪҇̈́͌̋͆͊r̷̨̭͓͉̈͛̚͞ t̸̨̛͍̭͉̝̖̾̏æ̸̧̙̮͍̆͐̕t҈̧̤̳͍̥̿̎͌̌͛͡ p̶̨̮̫̗͉͗̄́̑͠å̴̛͎̲̫̝̀̈̎͢ͅ.】

【You are close】

Incomprehensible language echoed in my mind.

At that moment, terribly dense Dark Mana erupted from all directions like a volcano.

Everything around me turned black.

My senses, sharpened to their limit, screamed in warning of mortal danger.

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

An intense presence that made the ground tremble.

When the darkness of Dark Mana cleared, seven monsters appeared before me.

About 2m tall. Blackened armor.

They resembled humans, but their heads and legs were beast-like.

At first glance, they could be mistaken for armored Werebeasts.

However, the Dark Mana flowing thickly from them and their half-rotted appearance proved they were monsters, not Werebeasts.

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

Mushrooms grew between their empty eye sockets.

Still, compared to other hideous hybrid monsters, they had a clearly more organized appearance.

I recognized these monsters.

‘Baltyr’s Warriors.’

Each one was a monster nearly at Master level. And there were seven of them.

Cold sweat trickled down my back.

Even at my best, I might have had a chance, but in this condition, they were not enemies I could defeat.

Death was right before me.

Damn it.

I gritted my teeth and gripped my sword. Durandal emitted a cold light.

I had come to this dungeon for light training, but what the hell was this?

Am I really going to die here? I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t allow it.

The divine presence watching from above faded away, as if having finished its business.

Were you trying to kill me, you bastard…!

Cursing the unknown god, I brought my trembling left hand to the sword hilt.

The Baltyr’s Warriors growled with laughter.

Laughter full of killing intent. I forced my lips into a smile too.

If I lost in terms of presence, I’d be defeated helplessly without even fighting properly.

Elpinel or Saulite, if you’re watching, please save me…!

I called upon the names of gods I didn’t usually rely on.

If the one who set me up was a god-like being, then only gods could help me now.

There was no answer.

Nothing happened.

Only Durandal’s blade vibrated pitifully.

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

The Baltyr’s Warriors approached one step at a time.

Their heavy footsteps shook the ground.

Their presence was so heavy that I almost thought the ground beneath my feet was trembling…

No, it was actually trembling?

The ground was vibrating as if a mild earthquake had occurred.

What is this?

It wasn’t them. They were just 2m tall monsters.

They couldn’t cause such vibrations with mere footsteps!

– Rumble!

A sound like thunder echoed. From beyond the monsters, toward the wall.

The Baltyr’s Warriors turned around. My gaze also shifted in that direction.

The gate was opening.

Very slowly, with heavy vibrations that shook the ground.

The massive stone gate, carved from solid rock, spread apart left and right, tearing up the ground.

Inside was so dark that nothing could be seen.

And then, footsteps echoed.

The clanking of metal. The dull sound of impact on the ground.

The footsteps of someone wearing armor.

Pushing open the gate doors that were dozens of centimeters thick with just the strength of two arms, it appeared.

A knight.

A knight made of shadows, wearing old, rusty armor that had become like rags.

Green light poured from between the helmet, and the blackened longsword was wrapped in strangely rippling energy.

My fighting spirit crumbled.

Far from divine help, the newcomer was also a monster.

A Deathknight.

A powerful monster among the undead species.

Its strength varied greatly between individuals… but even the weakest was at least Master level.

In other words, the enemy’s strength was at minimum six Masters, and at maximum, immeasurable.

Despair weighed on my shoulders.

There was no chance of winning.

—-

Salvation always comes when people least expect it.

That’s why it’s called salvation, I suppose.

The Baltyr’s Warriors showed an unusual reaction upon seeing the Deathknight.

They turned away from me, raised their arms toward the knight, grinding their teeth.

Clearly displaying wariness and hostility.

Despite being monsters themselves, they acted as if facing an enemy.

“GROOOOAR!”

The bear-like heads opened their mouths wide and roared ferociously.

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

What happened next was barely comprehensible even to my eyes.

The Deathknight charged toward them, its black Dark Mana fluttering like a cape.

Before I could blink three times, the knight was already in the midst of them.

A storm of swords descended.

The knight’s longsword, rippling with Dark Mana, collided with the warriors’ weapons.

The metallic sound, almost like an explosion, echoed continuously, shaking the cavern.

Seven Baltyr’s Warriors.

Against seven monsters that could defeat a Master with just two of them, the Deathknight’s sword danced.

The knight’s longsword never stopped.

It deflected axes, parried swords, and diverted spears.

Each time the longsword drew a black arc, the Baltyr’s Warriors bled.

Like a scene from a legendary hero’s tale.

I watched the sight in a daze, forgetting even my fighting spirit.

A monster fighting monsters.

Confusion filled my mind.

A strange event I had never seen or heard of before. A situation I couldn’t have imagined.

“GRAAAAAR!”

The wounded monsters howled in anger.

The Baltyr’s Warriors were not weak monsters either, but the Deathknight’s strength exceeded theirs.

This wasn’t an ordinary Master level.

It was a strength I could never defeat even at my best.

The victor of this fierce battle would probably be the Deathknight.

My sword hand trembled.

Should I intervene…? I wasn’t sure.

Yes, I understood that these two types of monsters were enemies.

I didn’t know why, but they were fighting to kill each other.

But could I really say that Deathknight was on my side? I couldn’t tell.

The Baltyr’s Warriors were clearly my enemies. They showed hostility as soon as they saw me.

What about the Deathknight then?

Thinking that the enemy of my enemy is my friend would be naive.

It was also a monster, and an undead one at that—one of the beings that hated living humans.

If the Deathknight turned its sword on me after slaughtering the Baltyr’s Warriors?

I couldn’t think of a way to win.

The best outcome for me would be if both monster groups destroyed each other… but that didn’t seem likely.

And if I jumped in to try to make that happen, I wasn’t sure if it would work as planned.

If the Deathknight I attacked changed its target to me, it would be the worst situation.

What should I do?

Attack or observe?

I watched their battle, pondering the best course of action.

The increasingly fierce battle between monsters.