Ch.317Silent Gloves

“Is that thing even human?”

Lyudmila inwardly exclaimed in shock. She hadn’t really expected her javelin to be effective.

After all, a warrior capable of beheading Valentin would surely be able to block her javelin too—either deflecting it with a sword or neutralizing it with something thrown.

Still, she had thought it would at least slow the enemy’s steps, but her opponent was an even greater monster than she had anticipated.

Haschal, charging toward her like a wild beast, not only shattered Lyudmila’s full-strength javelin with a casual swipe as if swatting a fly—he completely erased it.

Along with the scattered fragments, her pride was also shattered into pieces. Though pride was hardly her concern at the moment.

“Aishan-Gioro-!”

Lyudmila gritted her teeth as she drew two spears. Death was approaching her—

a ghostly figure with crimson storm swirling around it as it ran, its blue eyes flickering like flames.

There was no way to win. No way to stop it.

“Lyudmila-! Dodge somehow! Don’t face him! You’ll die!”

Oleg, who had pushed Frider and Noah away with his axe, shouted at the top of his lungs.

Lyudmila’s life was in imminent danger, but he too was in no position to help.

“Dodge where?!”

Lyudmila shouted fiercely.

There was nowhere to escape. Even if she tried to jump off the wall to save herself, she had clearly seen that walls meant nothing to this monster.

Throwing herself down would only result in being helplessly slaughtered by the pursuing monster.

“How about the afterlife? I don’t plan to chase you that far! It might be better than you think!”

Haschal sneered at Lyudmila while shoving his fingers into Valentin’s throat.

Frosting’s fingertips crushed flesh and bone as they dug deep into the wolf’s skull.

Four fingers pierced the upper jaw, while the thumb stabbed into the lower jaw to hold it in place. Like an animal-shaped puppet.

Haschal repeatedly opened and closed his fingers in this position, mimicking Valentin’s voice.

“Yes, Lyudmila. Now that I’m here, I understand. The afterlife is better than I thought! Brother Boris is smiling beside me! Lyudmila, you should come here too!”

Each time the Were Eater moved his fingers, the wolf’s muzzle flapped as if speaking.

“This crazy monster, what are you doing?!”

It was an incredibly vulgar provocation. Lyudmila’s gaze unconsciously focused on Haschal’s left hand. As a result, her vigilance toward other areas relatively weakened. Exactly the reaction Haschal wanted.

‘These beasts with nothing but instinct, they fall for even the crudest provocations… makes things convenient.’

Her right hand moved toward her back.

When it reappeared, two daggers were in her grip. Explosive daggers gifted by Asha, entangled with threads of Karma of Murder like a web.

“Awooooooo!”

Haschal, adding a howl for good measure, hurled the daggers at Lyudmila like lightning.

“Oh no…!”

Startled Lyudmila let out a cry of shock.

Distracted by the provocation, she hadn’t even noticed the surprise attack. As a warrior, this was an inexcusable failure.

The blade flew toward her, wrapped in dark red energy.

Undoubtedly, it was the same type of attack as the arrows fired earlier.

“How dare you use such tricks!”

She desperately thrust her spear forward.

There was no time to throw it. The dagger, shot like a red beam, was already before her eyes.

– Clang!

The tips of both spears made contact with the dagger. Gritting her teeth, Lyudmila braced for the coming storm of blades.

Though “bracing” merely meant preparing for the inevitable pain. Her wounds would regenerate eventually, but that didn’t mean there would be no agony.

However, the dagger Haschal fired was even more lethal than Lyudmila had anticipated.

– Crash!

The dagger that collided with her spear tips shattered like glass.

Dozens of black iron fragments scattered like shotgun pellets beyond the spear shaft, each fragment carrying the blade of Karma of Murder.

“Ah…!”

Lyudmila’s eyes widened.

Blade fragments deeply embedded themselves between her widely opened eyelids. The dark red killing intent ground her eyeball like porridge.

Pain like lightning striking her brain. Half her vision instantly went dark.

“Aaaaaaaargh!”

Lyudmila let out a desperate scream.

Black iron fragments penetrating her entire body tore her flesh to shreds.

Her mangled arms fell, unable to support their own weight, and fragments of intestines spilled out through her torn abdomen. Her body, falling forward, crushed and burst her own entrails.

The fact that the dagger was silver-plated rather than pure silver made the result even more devastating.

If it had been pure silver, she would have died instantly, but silver weapons only weakened regenerative abilities rather than completely nullifying them.

Even with her body reduced to rags, she was still alive.

Groaning in hellish agony, miserably rolling in a mixture of blood, bile, and urine.

“Tricks? This is what we call tactics. The human way of fighting.”

[As if. If all humans fought like this, the word ‘demon’ would have come to mean ‘human’.]

Hersella muttered in protest, but Haschal ignored her words and approached Lyudmila.

“You… monster…!”

Lyudmila looked at the Were Eater with her one remaining eye.

This demonic woman who devoured their kind, skinned their brethren to wear their hides, and laughed while desecrating the bodies of her comrades.

Through her blurry vision caused by dilated pupils, she saw the ghost-like blue eyes looking down at her as if she were an insect.

“…The monsters are you lot. Neither human nor animal, but an awkward mixture of both. How are you any different from demons?”

Haschal tossed away Valentin’s now useless head like garbage and drew Durandal again.

“Don’t complain as if you’ve been wronged. You’re just getting what you deserve.”

The silver blade flashed pale as moonlight.

Lyudmila sensed her impending death. Indignation and resentment filled the hyena werebeast’s heart.

—-

Haschal raised Durandal at an angle. She intended to sever the neck in one stroke.

…If not for the sudden interference, she certainly would have done so.

“Wroooaar-!”

A roar that shook the eardrums. From behind Haschal, from a place beyond her line of sight, something snow-white was flying toward her like a meteor.

Her instincts screamed. An indescribable sense of danger shot up her spine like lightning.

It felt as if every hair on her body stood on end. She became certain that if she swung her sword now, she too would lose her life.

“Kuk…!”

Haschal abandoned the idea of cutting Lyudmila’s throat and rolled forward.

Through her vertically rotating field of vision, she glimpsed a winter wolf swinging its claws at the spot where she had been standing.

Ten long, sharp claws carved through the wall’s stone like tofu.

‘Rurik…! I didn’t expect him to get here so quickly when soldiers should have been holding him back!’

Rising from the ground, Haschal firmly gripped Durandal and glared at the snow-white monster standing beside Lyudmila.

Tension trickled down her cheeks.

The winter wolf Rurik. If she was a hero among humans, he was a king among werebeasts. Even for Haschal, he was not an opponent to be taken lightly.

“Grrrr… I’ve wanted to meet you, Aishan-Gioro. It’s hard to get a glimpse of your face.”

“I’m expensive company. You should have made an appointment.”

Though Haschal was bantering verbally, she carefully angled her sword tip, focusing all her attention on Rurik’s every movement.

There was no more room for playfully tormenting her enemy. The time had come to fight with all her might. A bit earlier than she had expected.

Haschal could immediately see how he had been able to ambush her. From where Rurik had been rampaging until now, deep footprints were carved along the side of the wall in a line.

He must have run along the wall just as she had, digging into it with his claws.

“Even so, I never expected the Empire’s strongest warrior to resort to such tactics. Sacrificing soldiers as pawns to assassinate Champions—isn’t that excessively cold-hearted?”

Rurik glanced down at the half-dead Lyudmila and the decapitated Valentin, clicking his tongue.

Pureblooded Champions were the core strength of his forces. Though they had been defeated in one blow due to emotional disturbance, losing them so easily was a severe loss.

“I… apologize… Your Majesty… To show such… disgrace…!”

“No need to apologize, Lyudmila. That was an enemy you could never have defeated anyway. Focus on recovering.”

Rurik stopped Lyudmila, who was trembling as she tried to get up.

The fact that she still hadn’t regenerated suggested silver-inflicted wounds. Rather than forcing herself to move, she would be better off focusing on recovery.

Once the battle with the Were Eater began, he too would find it difficult to pay attention to Lyudmila.

“You seem to care quite a bit for your subordinates. Surprising. Especially since you used the militia as disposable pawns.”

Haschal sneered with a grin.

Rurik turned his head toward her, baring his fangs.