Ch.339The Approaching Finale

Lyudmila had initially raged against Oleg’s betrayal plan, but from the beginning, she had no choice but to submit. If she had maintained her loyalty to Rurik, she would have ended up like Nazar—a corpse fertilizing the forest.

Lyudmila chose her life and relationship with Abigeyl over loyalty. From what Abigeyl had told her about Oleg’s plan, Rurik’s life was as good as over regardless of which side she chose.

Rather than dying and becoming fertilizer, her philosophy was to survive and stand with the winners. Both Abigeyl and Oleg knew this about her character, which is why, unlike with Nazar and Vasili, they thought to “persuade” her to join their side.

After completing the persuasion, Abigeyl carefully began to leave the forest with only Lyudmila. Though their movement was necessarily slow to keep their whereabouts thoroughly hidden… thanks to this, they avoided being discovered by humans.

Meanwhile, her subordinates, after receiving the silver sword back from Abigeyl, rushed in the opposite direction. This was to divert the pursuers’ attention even slightly to help Abigeyl’s escape.

Frider’s pursuit team captured two snow leopards and recovered the silver sword, but failed to locate the three Champions who were their original targets. The only clue was that they were heading north again.

Judging that the southward movement had been a deception, Frider abandoned the pursuit and began heading north. Whether the Champions who had cleverly escaped would rejoin their main force was unknown, but regardless, they would ultimately move toward the northern wall.

—-

The strike team, unaware of the conspiracy and betrayal unfolding in the forest, continued their original plan of leaving the forest and rushing northward. Their numbers had been reduced by nearly half due to several engagements with Valdemar’s northern forces that had persistently pursued them.

“Chase them! Before they join with the other beasts!”

Valdemar, covered in werebeast blood, raised his greatsword and shouted loudly. Though the distance had widened somewhat, he couldn’t abandon the pursuit.

If by chance Vasili’s unit rejoined with Rurik, they might pointlessly lose humanity’s strongest forces currently engaged in battle with him. In reality, far from rejoining Rurik, Vasili was desperately rushing toward the northern wall.

An hour earlier.

Rurik had also left the forest and was moving toward the northern wall.

Though in terrible condition—his arm cut to the bone and one eye lost—he had managed to wound Haschal’s leg, allowing him to create distance and escape.

Enraged, Haschal bandaged her leg with torn animal hide and pursued Rurik, filling her hungry stomach with werebeast meat roasted with Karma. Though slower than Rurik, her injury wasn’t severe enough to prevent movement, so the pursuit continued.

In truth, the best strategy for the northern forces would have been to stop the pursuit, regroup, and retreat to Faelrun Castle. Given how persistently the enemy had been stalling for time, it was practically certain they had requested reinforcements.

Without knowing the scale of the enemy’s additional forces, continuing the pursuit was like sticking one’s head into a tiger’s mouth. Nevertheless, the northern forces chose to increase their pursuit speed rather than retreat.

As discussed during their strategy meeting, letting Rurik go meant giving up the possibility of reclaiming the area near the northern wall. They had no choice but to fight.

From the beginning, their greatest forces had no thought of retreat anyway.

“I’ll kill you…! I’ll definitely kill you!”

Haschal pursued Rurik with murderous intent, looking almost like a ghost.

Her irritation had reached its limit due to Rurik repeatedly retreating quickly when she seemed able to kill him and fleeing when she seemed about to win.

The wound on her leg further fueled her anger.

A strange mixture of freezing cold and burning heat. Haschal ground her teeth and cursed as she recalled the moment of injury. If she had been even slightly slower in withdrawing her foot, she would have lost her leg entirely.

The renewed pain added fuel to her boiling rage.

And so, the humans endlessly pursued the werebeasts. The midday sun disappeared beyond the horizon… and finally rose again.

The final morning had dawned.

—-

“Got you, you son of a bitch!”

After more than ten hours of long pursuit, Haschal finally caught up with Rurik.

Instead of running on her injured leg, she extended Karma tentacles like spider legs to support her body, repeatedly jumping and landing on just one foot with relentless determination.

It was a tenacity that could rightfully be called a human triumph.

“This monster woman…!”

Even Rurik was disgusted by her persistence and tenacity. Though only a few dozen kilometers remained to the northern wall, the Were Eater’s stubborn pursuit made further progress impossible.

“Anyone can see the monster is you! A two-legged dog bastard who rips off heads!”

Haschal and Rurik, growling at each other, clashed again—one filled with rage and disgust, the other with anxiety and dismay.

“Kyaaaah!”

“Wooooooh!”

A clash of superhumans representing humanity and werebeasts. Since neither was in normal physical condition, they couldn’t fight with the same level of destruction as at Faelrun Castle.

Rurik had lost his left arm, sustained major injuries to his right arm, and even lost one eye, while Haschal had depleted much of her strength and could barely move her right leg. Therefore, the battle was more desperate than spectacular.

Each time a clear line of blood was drawn on the wolf werebeast’s body, Haschal also sprayed her own blood across the snow field.

Rurik could no longer attempt to regenerate by ripping off his neck. Due to the continuous battles, injuries, and the dozen-plus hours of running without proper meals, his once ocean-like regenerative abilities were reaching their limit.

With his current slowed regeneration speed, he would be counterattacked and killed before his body could fully reform.

So instead of predicting the silver sword’s trajectory and preemptively severing parts of his body as before, he had to desperately roll on the ground and leap sideways to avoid the blade itself.

Haschal’s situation wasn’t much better.

Her physical condition had long been in shambles, and her energy was nearly depleted.

She couldn’t even attempt to use Karma Fire, which consumed large amounts of Murder Karma, and even the Defying Fate sword could only be used twice more before her energy would be completely exhausted.

Her injuries were not light either.

Torn wounds covered her skin everywhere, and her arms and shoulders, which had endured countless impacts, felt like they might break. Her right leg had no strength, requiring her to forcibly move it by binding it with Karma threads.

Nevertheless, she was gaining the upper hand. Perhaps due to her battle experience thus far, she was becoming increasingly familiar with the Werebeast King’s fighting style.

=======[ Haschal ]========

“Wooooh!”

I angle my sword diagonally, deflecting Rurik’s right arm as it aims for my head.

An attack that would have once made me lose balance or be knocked backward from the excess force. But now, I could block it perfectly.

I release my ring and little fingers from my right hand gripping the sword hilt, while tightening my left hand’s grip. Not to block head-on, but to let it slide naturally upon contact.

– Karddrrrk!

Claws meeting the blade sent sparks flying like metal against a grinder. Durandal’s blade pushed toward me as it slid.

– Kak!

I catch the blade on my shoulder armor while bending my extended left foot at just the right moment. My oath-bound sword, carrying my will, settled on my shoulder instead of cutting through the armor.

The impact cratered the ground beneath me. The earth at my feet cracked like glass hit by a hammer, spewing a snowstorm.

Yes, the trick to blocking Rurik’s attacks was simple. Meeting them head-on would send me flying backward due to the weight difference, but by receiving them at an angle and redirecting the force into the ground, I could withstand without being thrown!

“Kuk…!”

Rurik let out a short groan, having failed to send me flying. I twist my waist to redirect the remaining force sideways, spinning into his embrace.

A following slash. A light mixing blue-silver and gold draws an arc, cutting across the winter wolf’s waist.

– Chwak!

Though Rurik desperately rolled forward to avoid it, he couldn’t completely escape—his side was split open. The thick fur and muscle prevented it from reaching his internal organs.

“How about that? Don’t you feel your end approaching?”

I thrust Durandal at the neck of Rurik, who had immediately leapt back to his feet.

“Not yet!”

Rurik throws his waist backward and kicks upward. His claws shoot up vertically, aiming for my torso.

A strike that could split me in two if it connected. But this too was an attack I’d experienced before.

“Kyaaaah!”

I concentrate Murder Karma in my left hand that released the sword hilt and extend it downward. Simultaneously, I use my waist’s elasticity to swing my body sideways.

– Bbeoeok!

The concentrated Karma energy bursts out at once.

My left arm that blocked his foot screamed in pain. I could feel the cracked bone breaking. It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s not severed, I can still move it.

In the past, I would have been thrown into the air. That would have forced me to allow a follow-up attack. But not anymore.

My left arm receiving the attack at an angle. My entire body forcibly rotated using my waist. The kicking force of Rurik trying to send me flying gets twisted in the rotation.

The direction of force that should have extended into the air bends like a spiral. My entire body spun like a top in midair, along with Durandal gripped in my right hand.

The swirling slash shredded Rurik’s legs.

“Kuhaaak…!”

The wolf werebeast lost balance and fell backward. His mangled legs sprayed blood.

His end was drawing near.