Ch.6Goodbye Savage Life

“Ah, this fucking trash game, seriously…!”

In a cramped and gloomy one-room apartment barely 40 square feet, only the monitor in the corner glowed palely, illuminating the room.

It resembled an animal’s den more than a human dwelling.

Every corner was filled with mold and piles of garbage, permeating the air with a revolting stench.

Even livestock wouldn’t live like this.

However, the man sitting in front of the monitor stared intensely at the flickering screen as if he had no sense of smell, bursting with frustration.

—-

The man’s appearance was utterly disheveled.

His messy, tangled hair resembled dog fur, unkempt for who knows how long.

Dark circles hung beneath his bloodshot, hollow eyes, and his stretched-out short-sleeved t-shirt reeked of cigarettes.

Below his beer-stained sweatpants shorts, his uneven legs were partially visible.

His left leg was missing half below the knee, while his right leg was reduced to just the thigh.

The man glared at the glowing monitor with disgust, nervously chewing on the cigarette in his mouth.

The ashtray on the table was filled with burnt cigarette butts, suggesting he’d been chain-smoking.

‘Motherless Hersella. Did they really make this to be beatable?’

On the monitor, the phrase “Total Defeat!” appeared alongside a replay video of a black-haired woman fighting a bright blonde man.

—-

The final battle between the protagonist and Hersella.

The city that had been burning with screams was now filled with gloomy silence.

The protagonist, wearing dented plate armor and a tattered red cape, gasped for breath as he thrust his golden greatsword into the ground, holding it reversed.

Around him lay only the horrifically slaughtered corpses of his companions.

Torn, slashed, and mangled beyond recognition.

The proud heroes who had carried hope in their hearts and radiated brilliant light had finally fallen here.

“Is this the end?”

A sinister voice pierced the protagonist’s ears. He raised his head and glared at his enemy with hatred.

In the center of the ruined city, standing atop a hill of corpses, a demonic woman with a silver longsword resting on her shoulder looked down at him with mockery.

The maniacal slaughterer who had appeared leading a hundred thousand cavalry, spreading slaughter and destruction, burning the world.

The cursed blood-red nightmare. Aishan-Gioro Hersella.

This was the name of the despair he faced at the end.

Proving they had fought a fierce battle, both were bloodied with broken armor.

The protagonist’s armor, its holy blessing shattered, barely maintained its shape with only the pauldrons and breastplate intact. Hersella’s scale armor was burned and torn, with less than half remaining.

Her warhorse lay at the bottom of the hill, headless, and she herself had a sword and spear piercing each of her legs.

Yet unlike the protagonist’s face contorted with grief, Hersella still smiled, intoxicated with heated ecstasy, revealing her blood-stained fangs.

The protagonist gritted his teeth, gripped his cracked holy sword, and charged.

With each step, the earth exploded beneath him, scattering debris as his tattered cape drew a red line.

Like an enraged bull, he rushed to Hersella in an instant and swung his holy sword with all his might.

A golden flash like lightning struck down toward her.

“Hersellaaaaaa!”

“Yes! That’s it!”

Hersella smiled until her mouth split, raising her sword and supporting the blade with her left arm from behind to block the holy sword’s strike.

-KWAAANG-!!

When the golden holy sword and silver longsword collided, an explosion rang out, sending nearby corpses flying into the air.

Unable to withstand the impact, the longsword broke into two pieces, leaving a wound on Hersella’s cheek as it flew backward.

The holy sword’s strike had only broken Hersella’s sword and made her stagger slightly, ultimately being perfectly blocked.

“Kuk..!”

“Now, die.”

After blocking the holy sword, Hersella pulled her left hand back behind her shoulder like drawing a bowstring and sharpened her fingertips.

The protagonist, trying to continue his attack, desperately leaped backward.

Immediately after, with a sound of tearing air, Hersella’s left hand shot like a bullet through the empty space.

Had he hesitated for even a moment, his breastplate would have been pierced through.

Many knights had met their end, unable to react to that strike.

“You jump well. Will you try to run away now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous-!”

As the protagonist flew backward, he raised his left arm toward the sky, and swirling flames rose to envelop it.

The flames gathered in his hand transformed into a white-hot spear of fire.

It was magic squeezed out by scraping together his already depleted mana.

The flame spear, thrown with all his might, shot like a beam of light toward Hersella.

“How clumsy!”

Hersella’s response was blindingly fast.

She immediately dropped her broken longsword, pulled out the weapons piercing both her legs, and threw them in succession.

The sword collided with the flame spear, tearing its tip as it melted.

When the thrown spear followed, the flames completely distorted, causing a massive explosion in mid-air.

-KWAAANG-!!

The explosion and smoke covered the air, and half-melted metal fragments scattered in all directions, sparking.

“Damn it…!”

Having lost sight of Hersella due to the explosive smoke, the protagonist hastily pulled back his holy sword and took a defensive stance.

“-Too late.”

A mocking voice full of killing intent came from beneath his feet.

With that, the protagonist’s fate was sealed.

Before he could do anything, Hersella, who had grabbed his ankle with her right hand, yanked it while delivering a kick with her left foot.

-CRACK

“Kuh, haak…!”

The roundhouse kick aimed at his temple crushed the protagonist’s skull like a cookie, and her outstretched left hand tore out his heart.

Blood burst forth, pouring down like rain.

Finally, the screen went black as his powerless body fell to the ground with a thud.

[Total Defeat!]

“Fuck.”

The man staring at the message on the monitor cursed and turned off the game.

As he did, my surroundings gradually blurred, and my consciousness rose to the surface.

—-

…What a stupid dream.

I got up from the cot, rubbed my eyes, and took a sip of water.

Perhaps it was because I had seen Hersella’s weapons a few days ago.

I dreamed of the time when I lived like a shut-in.

Not that I miss it.

I turned my head to look at Frosting placed on the shelf.

Its dazzling appearance was still tempting me, but knowing its true nature, it was completely useless yet impossible to discard.

I couldn’t just leave it somewhere, but I couldn’t wear it all the time either.

The setting that it emits a subtle cold air was the problem.

At first, I thought it would add cold damage when attacking, freezing enemies’ wounds.

Freezing, my ass.

When I tested it, it just got a little cold, true to its “subtle” coldness.

If that were all, I would have just been disappointed.

The problem was that this was armor worn on the arm.

No matter how subtle the cold was, having it constantly against my body was like keeping my arm submerged in ice water.

After wearing it for about an hour, even Haschal’s body couldn’t withstand it, and I felt cold to the bone.

So this meant it could only be properly used by someone completely unaffected by this level of cold!

Meanwhile, it was clearly a high-end item that attracted too much attention, and its size made it cumbersome to carry around.

It really was the worst.

I roughly tied back my unruly hair and went outside the tent.

Stars were faintly shining in the predawn sky.

The dawn on the plains was chilly.

My breath turned into white mist, dissolving into the darkness.

It had been six days since I left Ordos with Orhan’s sealed document.

The border with the Empire was close at hand.

In the center of five tents arranged in a circle, the night guards were sitting around a campfire.

As I approached, they noticed my presence and stood up to salute.

“Glory to Aishan-Gioro. Did you wake up, Lady Haschal?”

“Yes. You’re all working hard.”

Thinking this was a good opportunity, I walked to the campfire and sat down on a suitable rock.

“My lady?”

The guards looked at me with confusion.

Why so nervous? I won’t eat you.

“Is Mersin still sleeping?”

“Yes. Should I tell him you’re looking for him?”

Most of the guards and Jahan had remained in Ordos, with only Mersin accompanying us as the commander of the returning warriors.

“No, it’s fine. When Mersin wakes up, tell him to lead the troops back.”

“Are you planning to leave now? It’s not even daylight yet.”

“Yes. It should take about half a day to reach the Empire’s border. If I leave now, I’ll arrive before noon.”

“Understood. Take care, my lady.”

I acknowledged the guards’ salutes and returned to my tent to pack my things.

A silver longsword and a bow made from animal horn.

Snacks and this troublesome Frosting.

I put on my armor and wrapped Frosting in leather, attaching it to my waist.

At least this way I wouldn’t lose it.

As for the other luggage, Mersin and his subordinates would take care of it.

I woke the reddish-brown horse tied next to the tent, inserted the bow and quiver into the saddle’s bow pocket, and mounted.

“Let’s go!”

“Hihihihing!”

When I gripped the reins and lightly kicked the horse’s side, the horse, awakened from deep sleep, began to run.

I smiled with pleasure as the wind caressed my hair.

Perhaps because of my memories of crawling after losing my legs.

Riding a horse was the most enjoyable experience I’d had since being possessed.

I could feel the tents behind me rapidly receding.

Unable to suppress the rising exhilaration, I threw back my head and burst into laughter.

Haschal is free now!

—-

Six hours later.

Hundreds of spearheads greeted me.