Chapter 109 – Retribution (2)

Chapter 109 – Retribution (2)

The viscous blood that had erupted skyward now descended as a macabre rain, saturating the already sodden earth.

Amidst the damp soil lay the scattered remains of Erden’s once-proud paladins and priests.

Some were bereft of limbs. Others reduced to bare osseous remnants. A few left naught but crimson pools in their wake.

Across this field of carnage stood the architect of this devastation—a demon in human form, nonchalantly adjusting her hair while muttering to herself.

Her precise capabilities remained a mystery. Rumors of her exploits suggested power on par with, at minimum, a high-tier Master. A level of might unattainable by any mortal who had yet to awaken their unique ability.

Yet, a glaring vulnerability persisted. She was blind.

Though purportedly able to perceive her surroundings through extrasensory means, reports indicated this faculty was inextricably linked to her greatsword.

This weakness had been verified. Logic dictated that, bereft of her blade, she should be rendered helpless.

And yet, defying all reason, this sightless warrior had cast aside her weapon.

She had hurled her greatsword, simultaneously ending Mern’s torment and existence.

Even for a swordsman without such an Achilles’ heel, discarding one’s blade was an act of sheer lunacy.

“She… threw her sword? What… What manner of madness is this?”

Barret, his bowstring half-drawn, slackened his grip in disbelief.

“I find myself equally perplexed…”

Garlia, his own greatsword at the ready, responded with evident bewilderment.

“What, some novel form of suicide? Or perhaps a last-ditch effort to claim a life before her own demise?”

Barret’s sneer accompanied a sidelong glance at Mern’s remnants.

A few scraps of desiccated skin. Bone fragments scattered like gravel. A pair of disembodied eyes, optic nerves trailing, alongside a heart that stubbornly continued its futile rhythm.

“Tell me, Garlia, could you replicate such a feat? Felling a Master with a thrown greatsword?”

“…I wouldn’t stake my life on it.”

“I most certainly could not.”

Though Mern bore the moniker of a “manufactured Master,” his title was not mere appellation.

His form had been forcibly augmented with divine essence extracted from a priestess, granting him preternatural durability and regenerative prowess.

Even now, with his corporeal form obliterated, his heart persisted in its labors, oblivious to its master’s demise.

And yet, this being of such formidable constitution had been undone by a single, thrown greatsword.

“There must be more to her than meets the eye.”

“Indeed, there must.”

Garlia hoisted his greatsword once more. Barret, maintaining his distance, nocked a fresh arrow.

“Our priority is neutralization. Severing a limb or two shouldn’t prove fatal.”

Snap—

In lieu of verbal assent, Barret loosed his arrow.

A shaft of pristine white cleaved the air with a thunderous report as Garlia surged forward in its wake.

Amidst this tumult, Noah extended her hand with preternatural calm.

In that instant, a sword of such profound darkness materialized in her grasp that even sunlight seemed incapable of revealing its true form.

The mere sight of it sent a visceral revulsion through Garlia, as though vermin crawled beneath his skin.

The very flow of air ceased. The currents of mana twisted unnaturally. Though visually perceptible, the sword defied sensory comprehension. Garlia’s heightened awareness revealed nothing.

The “blessing” that suffused his being recoiled in abject terror.

This entity posed an existential threat. Her eradication was imperative. Her very existence must be expunged with utmost haste.

The blade he had intended for mere restraint now pulsed with murderous intent. Garlia’s crimson mana imbued his sword with the concept of “annihilation.” His unique ability activated, warping the fabric of time itself.

The lazy drift of falling leaves decelerated to a crawl. Mern’s stubbornly beating heart, the descent of blood-tinged raindrops—all slowed to an infinitesimal pace.

Within this temporal distortion, Garlia’s greatsword arced through space with reality-rending force.

Barret, attuned to the shift in paradigm, invoked his own unique ability. His bowstring shimmered as he manifested a platinum arrow, imbued with the concept of “unerring accuracy.”

Bridging two points in space, he loosed his projectile.

The intervening 300 meters collapsed instantaneously, the arrow materializing mere millimeters from Noah’s brow.

Yet, as Barret reached for his next shaft—

The world plunged into absolute darkness.

***

Crack—

A fissure spiderwebbed across the surface of the Bracelet of Verdure encircling Noah’s wrist.

“Hngh… gah… urgh…!”

Noah expelled a mouthful of blood surging from her core and wrenched the arrow from her flank.

“[Are you out of your mind?! Who removes an arrow like that?!]”

Disregarding Cartia’s admonishment, she clamped her hand over the gaping wound to staunch the hemorrhage.

“[Merciful heavens… What manner of barbaric field medicine is this?]”

“Urk… I-I’ve employed this method before with some success…”

Noah gingerly massaged her temples, attempting to dispel the encroaching vertigo.

Nevertheless. The swordsman’s movements had been preternaturally swift. And that arrow… it had materialized before her without warning.

“[Those must be manifestations of their unique abilities. The swordsman’s power seems to manipulate time, while the archer’s relates to spatial manipulation.]”

Time and space? This was eerily reminiscent of D—io versus J—aro.

“[Come again?]”

“N-Nothing of consequence.”

Steadying her faltering form, Noah expanded her sensory perception to its limits.

In that instant—

Whiiish—!

“Hah—!”

Clang—!

Another arrow materialized, only to be deflected by Noah’s swift reaction. Evading a follow-up shaft, she threw herself laterally as a greatsword cleaved the air where her neck had been.

Leveraging her hips, Noah sprang upright and swung Frey with gritted determination.

Boom—!

The earth beneath her feet cratered under the impact.

The weapon’s weight was immense, brooking no respite. Another arrow approached, unavoidable. To relax her guard meant certain decapitation. To ignore the arrow assured bodily devastation.

Formless energy coalesced around her, infusing Frey with otherworldly might. With a controlled exhalation, Noah plunged the greatsword into the ground.

Crack—BOOM!

A seismic shockwave propagated through the earth, fracturing the terrain.

The greatsword aimed for her neck whispered past, severing a few errant hairs. The arrow targeting her heart grazed her earlobe in passing.

Extending her senses to their absolute limit, Noah pinpointed the archer’s location.

Target acquired.

She swung Frey with lethal intent, aiming for the archer’s right arm.

The unstable energy trailing in Frey’s wake parted the lingering dust cloud. However, instead of severing the archer’s arm as intended, it cleaved through his leg.

The recoil slammed Noah into the unforgiving earth, reopening the wound in her side that she had so recently staunched.

What little air remained in her beleaguered lungs escaped in a rush.

Forcing her protesting body upright, Noah twisted Frey skyward.

Clang—!

Flowing Water.

The swordsman wielding the greatsword retreated, momentarily thrown off balance.

Ignoring him, Noah surged toward the archer.

“Damn you to hell!”

The man, prone on the ground, raised his arm in desperation.

A grappling line shot from his wrist, latching onto a nearby tree and hoisting him aloft.

As Noah prepared to give chase—

“[Behind you!]”

A premonitory tingle raced down her spine, followed by a fierce gust of displaced air.

Twisting on pure instinct, Noah deflected the greatsword’s charge.

Clang—!

The cacophonous clash of steel on steel shattered her eardrums.

Disregarding the searing pain, Noah snatched an incoming arrow with her free hand and drove it into the swordsman’s thigh.

Using his leg as a springboard, she vaulted toward the retreating archer.

“You psychotic wench!”

A veritable hail of arrows darkened the sky.

Should she weather the assault to reach his throat? No, her reduced speed made that unfeasible. Evasion or deflection were her only options.

Honing her senses to their zenith, Noah traced the arrows’ trajectories.

Evasion was impossible. Deflection was imperative. Calculating the optimal arc to clear the incoming barrage in a single sweep, she rotated Frey parallel to the ground and executed a wide, sweeping strike.

Scriiiitch!

Each arrow carried significant heft, yet none proved too weighty to deflect.

Her pace slackened marginally. Inconsequential. She had already closed to striking distance.

With a violent twist of her hips, Noah swung Frey. The resultant shockwave ruptured the archer’s flank, scattering viscera and debris.

Suppressing the blood that surged up her esophagus, Noah pivoted with the greatsword’s recoil.

As she began to fall, she perceived the swordsman’s blade arcing towards her, seemingly defying time itself.

Arrows pierced the fabric of space, assailing her from behind. One found purchase in her thigh.

Biting down on her tongue, Noah marshaled every iota of her strength.

Crack—! The Bracelet of Verdure’s fissures deepened. Her viscera writhed in agony. A lance of white-hot pain transfixed her brain, radiating down her spine and threatening total paralysis.

The energy coalescing around Frey felt as though it might rend reality asunder.

With a primal scream, Noah swung the impossibly heavy greatsword in a wild arc.

An indiscriminate wave of formless energy erupted.

Arrows disintegrated mid-flight. The swordsman’s blade veered off course. Noah’s own body slammed into the ground with bone-shattering force.

Choking back the agony that threatened to expel her organs through her throat, Noah forced herself upright.

A numbing sensation spread through her right leg—the arrow must have been envenomed.

She wrenched the shaft from her flesh and gulped ragged breaths.

For the first time, her opponents’ true conditions became clear in her mind’s eye.

The swordsman’s torso had been flayed to the bone. The archer sported a gaping abdominal wound, his right leg severed at the thigh.

Noah’s own state was equally dire.

A fist-sized cavity yawned in her flank. Her right leg was rapidly losing sensation.

Blood surged relentlessly from her core, and her cranium felt as though a thousand white-hot needles had been driven into it.

The Bracelet of Verdure, too, had reached its breaking point, a spiderweb of fractures marring its surface.

She could retreat toward her approaching allies.

She could attempt to hold out, buying precious time.

But.

The hunger for battle consumed her.

Victory called, a siren’s song.

Reliance on others’ strength was anathema.

This triumph must be hers alone.

Gripping Frey with renewed determination, Noah steadied her stance.

She willed her heart to a frenetic pace, forcing blood through her system at an unnatural rate.

Straining against fatigue, she pulled taut her flagging muscles and realigned her protesting joints.

Snatching a fallen branch, she drove it into her numbed thigh.

The resultant agony rekindled her dulled senses.

“Hah…”

Noah channeled the latent energy within her core.

Elevating her very state of being.

Crack— The Bracelet of Verdure keened under the strain.

Disregarding its protest, she pushed her limits further.

As the bracelet teetered on the precipice of shattering—

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAA—!!

Carpeng’s primal roar reverberated across reality. The distant fragments, hitherto inert, surged forth to merge with Noah’s form.

Carpeng’s essence—blood infused with primordial spirit—enveloped her, forming an aegis of raw power.