episode_0075

======[ Bellita ]======

“Good grief.”

Bellita successfully escaped from the surrounding situation where she was relentlessly pursued to the point of being surrounded, using every means possible.

She raced towards her subordinates who had chased after the carriage, grinding her teeth in overwhelming shame and humiliation.

“Even if I’m going to be embarrassed, I did it very thoroughly. Why did it have to be there, and to shoulder…!”

Having appeared confidently and leisurely, only to end up fleeing in disgrace after attempting to fight back and being counterattacked, since becoming a nationally wanted criminal by rampaging and killing noticeable adventurers, had there ever been a day as humiliating as today.

“Good grief, good grief…!”

Bellita bit her lips so hard that blood oozed out.

The mental damage was severe.

Although her skills had rusted a bit from quietly hiding away, she never expected to be in a position where she would have to flee after being injured by just two female knights.

She had tried not to show any emotions in front of her enemies, but inside Bellita’s heart, an indescribable discomfort and embarrassment were already boiling over.

Gritting her teeth.

“Oh, really. It hurts so damn much…!”

Furthermore, the injury wasn’t just to her spirit, but her body was in a similar state. No, to be precise, the physical damage was much more serious.

The spear she had just obtained couldn’t even be retrieved, and although her right shoulder had been treated with a potion for first aid, blood was still flowing profusely.

Moreover, her left arm, which had been slashed while leaping, was in quite a mess.

Between the shattered shoulder armor, the sporadic appearance of grayish skin seemed torn as if it were gilded.

“…What on earth is that damn woman?”

Staring at her left arm, which was slowly regenerating with the skin itself twitching, Bellita recalled the female knight she had confronted just a while ago, dressed in armor.

Her skills were just about average for a knight, but despite that, whenever their eyes met, an unusually sharp sense of crisis surged, which troubled the woman.

“It seems like a swordsmanship more suited for thrusting, but even so… ‘Troll’s Arm’ possesses enough strength to resist. Where on earth does that kind of power come from?”

The swordsmanship specialized in thrusting was rugged yet systematic, and the occasional display of strength was comparable to the troll’s muscular left arm that had been transplanted onto her.

Was that strength the very source of the sense of crisis Belita felt? It was something she couldn’t know now.

“It’s not just that woman. That beggar boy beside her seemed a bit strange too.”

The black-haired girl with unkempt black hair. She, too, was an adversary who exuded a strong sense of danger to a somewhat surprising degree.

“Why did they seem so dangerous…? Their strength and agility were considerable, but ultimately, they were no more than ordinary knights.”

Not a pufferfish-like creature inflating its bulk by inhaling air, but an eerie sense of intimidation several times greater than the revealed skill, despite their strength and agility being quite formidable.

It might now be nothing more than a pathetic excuse, but the reason Belita couldn’t fully display her original skill was precisely because of that sensation.

The sense of danger disproportionate to her skill level was so vexing that Belita believed her opponent was concealing some extraordinary move.

Therefore, the fair-haired woman and the black-haired boy fought with just enough restraint to force each other to reveal their bottom line.

…Perhaps they fought with too much restraint, which led to an unexpected counterattack, putting Belita at a disadvantage.

“……”

Feeling as if her frustration would only grow the more she thought about it, Belita vigorously shook her head and stopped thinking about it.

“…Let’s put that thought off for now. Right now, the first thing is to accomplish the mission entrusted by Ariane.”

The mission entrusted to her by Ariane. To seize and bring back the heart of Yotun ahead of the other Abyssal Priests. Given the uncertainty of when the other Abyssal Priests might appear, she had to swiftly capture and exterminate the fleeing ones and then escape with Yotun’s heart.

“—Kuida! Aim for the wheels!”

“You damn bastards…! Back off! I said back off!”

“Kwaaah…!”

And the moment was right in front of her.

Her subordinates, who were concentrating on the words and carriage wheels, and the upper echelons who desperately tried to mount the baggage cart or run alongside it to thwart it.

Before they knew it, they were looking at them, who had come within twenty steps, and Bellita accelerated like a whipped horse, wielding the strength of Troll’s left arm with her injured right arm, smashing and tearing everything and everyone in her grip.

Blood and screams spread like waves, and the torn and twisted heads scattered through the air like thrown balls.

Despite showing serious signs of struggle from the fight with Hilde, Bellita was originally a skilled warrior who could easily defeat even a dozen ordinary knights. She was not someone that Rug’s guards, who were not even at the level of Hilde or Friede, let alone comparable to a mid-tier adventurer, could dare to oppose.

After smashing the carriage and killing the horses, she spent tens of seconds pulling the resisting upper echelons’ heads out like pulling radishes.

“Hah, it was going to end up like this anyway. Why bother resisting.”

“Ugh… g-groan…!”

In the midst of a sea of spilled blood from headless corpses, Bellita laughed as she trampled on Rug’s head, which had turned into a bug-like mess.

“The idea of disguising oneself as a weak upper echelon and stealing their hearts was good… but luck wasn’t on my side. Of all things, why did I have to get caught like this? Isn’t that just great?”

As she thoroughly washed away the shame in her heart with the excitement and joy of despising the weak.

“Grooaaan….”

Rug couldn’t even respond.

He was not in a state to do so. His consciousness was about to leave him beyond the pain.

His arms and legs were flattened and burst like a sheet of paper. It was an unbearable agony for Rug, who was not a combatant.

In my opinion, it seems like some kind of goddess or something has given you a punishment. Stealing the spoils of the pulpit, what despicable people.

Belita moved her foot back and forth on Rug’s face, gently shaking his head while sneering.

Insult and contempt to heal wounded pride.

If there had been a little more time, she would have torn him to shreds until someone asked to kill him outright, not just breaking his arms and legs.

But there was no time for that now.

“Milady Belita! We found the ‘heart’!”

“Oh, really? Then this is useless now, isn’t it?”

Crack!

Upon hearing the report from her subordinate that they had found Yotun’s heart, Belita brought down her raised foot like a hammer, smashing Rug’s head into pieces.

Eyeballs popping out like marbles rolling on the ground. The mixture of white brain matter and red blood burst out, staining the ground beneath her feet.

The middle-aged man without a head convulsed like an insect, wetting his pants.

“Tsk.”

Spitting on Rug’s broken body, Belita turned her head to look towards the direction of the carriage, wiping the sole of her shoe on the still clean earth.

A broken wooden carriage folded in half as if an old man had been struck with a hammer. A subordinate wearing a mask was pulling out a box-like container from the wreckage.

“Bring it here. If there are any potions, hand them over too.”

“Yes!”

The masked figure hurried over, handing her a potion bottle and opening the container to show its contents.

Rotten flesh that exuded a strong stench.

“Hmm…”

Sprinkling the new potion on the right shoulder, Belita wrinkled her face slightly, confirming the identity of the contents inside the container.

Decayed, blackened flesh. A human-sized heart emitted a chilling cold along with the rotten insides.

“It seems to be correct.”

Nodding her head, Belita flicked her finger to close the lid again, exuding a faint sense of satisfaction on her face, wrinkled by the stench.

“All right, now all we have to do is go back.”

The situation had become quite tangled and there were moments of serious concern for dignity, but looking only at the results, it couldn’t be said that luck wasn’t on their side.

Regardless of how things turned out, they had managed to obtain this heart as if it was meant to be, and the feared intervention of other abyss priests also seemed to have ended up as a mere bluff.

Now, there was only one thing left to do. Leave this place as quickly as possible and safely deliver this heart to its rightful owner.

If they lingered here and happened to encounter another abyss priest, it would be like walking straight into the jaws of death.

“You’ve all done well. Leave this heart to me and disperse as planned!”

Bellita shouted, looking back at her subordinates who had been taking care of her injuries.

Bringing back the heart was her responsibility. The rest of her subordinates’ role was to quietly disperse in all directions so as not to attract attention.

“Yes, Lady Radros!”

Though their numbers had dwindled a bit, her subordinates, still lively, bowed their heads in response before turning and dispersing in all directions.

…Or at least, that was the plan.

“Flamma Procélla.”

It would have been unmistakable even without the clear and frivolous laughter, the voice of an unknown woman.

However, that was now an impossibility.

Whoosh.

A ring of flames surged around Bellita and her subordinates standing by the sea of blood, small flames flickering for a moment before vanishing.

Kwaaaaaah!

In the next moment, a fierce storm of crimson flames swept through.

“W-What is this?”

“She’s a sorceress! My goodness, Lady Bellita!”

Amidst the whirlwind of flames that engulfed everything, Bellita’s startled subordinates, taken aback by the sudden attack, were about to step back.

“Nee~ Incinerate, incinerate!”

Accompanied by the mischievous voice of the woman, the wall of flames narrowed sharply and swept them away like a tidal wave.

This was no ordinary fire magic like “Flame Arrow”; it was the overwhelming destructive magic, “Flame Storm.”

“Screaaaam!”

“Aaaah! My body! It hurts!”

“Lady Bellita! Dodge… No, I can’t… Aaaah!”

Men swept away by the flames danced like torches, burning and screaming.

Firepower enough to burn and kill a person in an instant. Blisters burst on the skin, flesh and muscles burned to charcoal.

Ssssss…!

Puddles of blood evaporated, emitting gray steam like clouds.

Overwhelming acts of destruction leaving no room for resistance. Nearly twenty men turned into burnt meat and collapsed in an instant.

“Damn… what is this…”

In the midst of it all, only Belita stood with a pale face.

“That’s enough, Diren. Are you going to burn even your heart?”

A voice came from beyond the storm of flames.

A man’s voice, smooth and gentle yet somehow cruel, lightly reprimanded a woman named Diren.

“Oh, really? Wait a moment!”

Diren, who had turned the wreckage around the carriage into a hellfire with a spell, extinguished the flame storm, replying with a coquettish voice.

“….”

Belita, staring at her subordinates turned into human coal with a vacant expression, raised her head towards the direction of the voice.

Ssssss…!

Beyond the steam of blood that surged even more fiercely with the remaining heat after the disappearance of the flames, a man adorned in splendid armor was approaching her.

“Is that his heart? Fortunately, he seems unharmed.”

Black iron armor with added golden craftsmanship. A young man exuding elegance unique to high lineage, with ruby-like red eyes and well-maintained golden hair gleaming.

“Rebilla, trusting only himself, has messed things up to this extent. It was a good idea to come and check just in case.”

He was a young man overflowing with the grace characteristic of high lineage, seemingly different from ordinary people.

“Uh… uh…?”

Belita gasped, unable to form words.

An attack so sudden and unexpected.

Subordinates wiped out as if in jest.

The immense shock was striking her mind so hard that she couldn’t even focus on such facts.

It was a familiar face.

No, it was strange not to know this face. At least, in this country, if he was born in Herbor.

“He, Heid…?”

“Whose name do you dare speak so lightly, you wretched woman.”

Heath Garudarik Herbor.

1st Prince of the Kingdom of Herbor. Master of the Holy Sword Tirving.

The hero of Herbor stood before her.