Chapter 141 - Awakening (4)

Hector Ludwig.

An unfortunate old man who had once been a respected high priest of the Followers of Leatlas, only to be kidnapped by the Dragonslayer in his twilight years and forced into servitude to an evil god.

“The star that rises at dusk shall guide their way...”

He begins making the holy sign out of habit, then pauses. The evil god’s voice has echoed inside his head.

[“Hypocrite, do you still harbor vain hopes?”]

He knows without being told. His hopes are vain, nothing more than hypocrisy. Whatever excuses he makes, all of this is the result of his own choices.

‘If only, that day...’

If he had not yielded to evil. If, like the great figures in the tales, he had refused to compromise his convictions and borne every sacrifice himself.

The man would never have made it here. All those people would never have faded away into despair, and the explorers he met today would have finished their expedition without incident and returned to the city.

But...

Ludwig clenches his deeply wrinkled hand into a tight fist.

Meaningless speculation. Meaningless regret. Even if he could return to that day, he would surely make the same choice.

And as if to prove it...

WHOOOOSH!

Even now, he stands before the shimmering portal, obeying the one order the Dragonslayer gave him. More precisely, he is protecting the grandson he cherishes more than anything.

He guards this place in case they flee here, entertaining only this thought:

‘Please, let them not come here.’

It is the only hope he is permitted. Calling it modest would be an overstatement—a mere crumb of hope.

Yet even this fails to satisfy the evil god.

[“Ripen further.”]

Long years of despair have worn away his ambitions, and now he has lost even the will to set things right. Like a slave rejoicing at having been struck only once that day, he has resigned himself to his wretched reality.

He chooses the lesser evil and consoles himself that it was the best he could do. He struggles to ignore the fact that he has the means to end all this.

Yet the evil god speaks as though even that is not enough.

[“Watch, hypocrite. This despair is of your making, as is this suffering.”]

The voice reverberates as though engraving itself upon his brain. Before long, a scene unfolds behind his tightly closed eyelids.

A barbarian and his companions are fighting a tremendous evil in a situation anyone would deem hopeless.

[“VEHELLLAAAAAA!!”]

Unlike him, who has surrendered to fate.

* * *

“So, you’re not running?”

He looks at me and smiles contemptuously. Unwilling to lose even this contest of nerve, I force the corners of my mouth up too.

As if he’d let us go quietly if we ran.

Our current situation is exceedingly simple.

[Survive using the mage until Soul Exhaustion ends.]

If this were a helpful game, that’s the sort of message it would display.

Soul Exhaustion lasts about twenty minutes. We have to hang on like hell until then.

Oh, and running isn’t an option. Nothing is easier to tear apart than prey that turns its back.

“Protect Dwalki!!”

The instant I shout at the top of my lungs—

TAP-TAP!

He kicks off the ground as if determined to give us no time, accelerating in an instant. In his hand is the Venomous Viper’s Fang he stole from Misha.

Damn, of all the things to take, why that?

I push aside my bitterness and focus on his movements until the very last moment.

CRASH!

I assess the situation as I block his sword with my mace. My feet slide backward.

That means he outmatches me in strength, the one thing I was most confident in.

SWISH!

His sword swings again in a smooth arc. I hastily retreat, but I can’t keep pace with his movements.

That means he has the advantage in Agility too.

SLICE.

Acidic blood sprays from my split skin.

So [Iron Leather] isn’t working either. I’d hoped it might, since he seems unable to use his Arc longsword. But right, the skill becomes more effective the higher my Physical Resistance is.

WHOOSH!

I silence my complaints and swing my mace.

SLICE.

Far from hitting him, I only gain another wound. But I swing again.

Taking hit after hit to buy my companions time—that’s my job.

“Dwalki, when’s that spell coming?!”

“It’s ready. But you two are too clo—”

“Just fire it!”

The Ice Spear I’ve been waiting for finally launches. As expected, he swiftly retreats.

He must have decided taking the hit along with me would be a bad trade. How considerate of him.

TAP-TAP.

I retreat too, moving out of the Ice Spear’s range. Without even pausing for breath, I reach behind me and pull my shield from my backpack.

It’s not as though I can use [Gigantification] anyway. As long as I’m not up against the Arc longsword, having a shield will help far more in combat.

I’d like to put my breastplate on too, but...

‘He won’t give me that much time.’

I force myself to stop dwelling on what I can’t have. Not out of resignation, but to focus everything on what matters more urgently.

Discard what must be discarded. Take only what I can.

On that note, there’s one thing I need to check first.

“How’s Misha?”

“It seems a broken bone punctured her organs. I gave her a potion, so she should be all right soon.”

Right, so until then, it’s four against one.

Cold as it sounds, I’m glad Dwalki isn’t the one out of action. If he’d been the one hit, we wouldn’t even have a chan—

“Watch out!”

He charges again. Apparently, he has no time to wait around.

For now, that’s a positive sign.

‘Right. You’re in a hurry too.’

I suspected as much, but now I’m certain. He isn’t suffering from a short-lived status effect. The way he charges as though every second counts makes that clear.

CLANG!

He’s pushing himself too, trying to settle this before Soul Exhaustion ends. In other words, if we can just last twenty minutes, we’ll have a chance.

But...

‘Having to last a whole twenty minutes is fucking insane.’

Time isn’t on our side. He doesn’t know it, but we only have four potions left.

‘Apart from the highest-grade ones, one intermediate and one high-grade.’

At this rate, we’ll burn through all of them in mere minutes.

Which is why...

“VEHELLLAAAAAA!!”

Roaring with all my might, I shove my shield forward, then swiftly dash in and swing my mace.

I’ve concluded that turtling up will never get us through twenty minutes.

At least, not for the first few minutes.

TAP-TAP.

Whenever he creates distance, I immediately close in. I focus on offense rather than defense, whether Rotmiller’s bolts come flying in or Dwalki fires his spells.

“... Are you trying to take me down with you?”

I stay glued to him, swinging my mace like someone bent on mutual destruction.

I call it Barbarian Drag-You-Down-With-Me Mode.

Paradoxically, this tactic actually reduces my injuries and prevents him from even contemplating an approach to Dwalki. Proof that the best defense is a good offense.

“Tch.”

He aborts a thrust at me and twists away from an Ice Spear. Unfortunately for him, he moves straight into a crossbow bolt’s path.

THUNK!

A momentous first hit.

His Physical Resistance prevents it from sinking deep, but it hit his thigh, so it should hamper his mobility a little.

But has he started to figure something out?

‘So much for the easy part.’

The look in his eyes changes at that moment, so I quickly retreat too.

Someone who has learned to sacrifice something to gain something else is dangerous in any field.

“Persistent little bastards...!”

His swinging sword drips with murderous intent. It’s as though he’s cast off his shackles.

Where he once restricted his sword’s attack paths for defense, it now traces free arcs with a single purpose.

Though the biggest change is something else.

SWISH!

Even when a bolt grazes his shoulder, he keeps pressing me without flinching.

And as a result...

SHUNK!

After several exchanges, his blade plunges deep into my abdomen. With my Natural Regeneration gone, this wound could kill me if left untreated.

「Your body regenerates due to the Recovery (Medium) effect.」

Rotmiller makes the call to use another potion. Now we have one high-grade and two highest-grade potions left.

Then, to make matters worse...

TAP-TAP.

I fail to stop him. Like an acrobat, he steps on my swinging mace and vaults over me.

‘Motherfucker.’

I quickly turn and reach out, but I’m already too late. He kicks off the ground once more, closing the distance to our back line in an instant.

“Get back!”

The dwarf steps in front of Dwalki, but it means little. How could he stop that monster head-on, especially without his key skill, [Weight Balance]?

BAM!

One kick sends the dwarf flying like a soccer ball, shield and all.

Rotmiller drops his crossbow and swings his sword. Of course, it has no chance of working.

SHUNK!

The bastard knocks Rotmiller’s sword aside with ridiculous ease and drives the green blade into his abdomen.

But just as he tries to pull it out...

“This belongs to us.”

Rotmiller grabs his hand, stopping him.

FWHOOSH!

Thankfully, an Ice Spear fires just in time, forcing him to release the sword and retreat.

THUD.

With his support gone, Rotmiller crumples limply to the floor. But the sword lodged in his abdomen has vanished without a trace.

The Mimic’s skill, [Treasure Room], which costs no Magic Power.

So the bastard can’t use it. So he can help this team, even a little.

‘We can save him if we get him a potion in time.’

I remain composed despite my companion’s injury. But not everyone can.

“You... Rotmiller...!!”

Misha, who was recovering against the wall, swings her sword at him despite barely being able to move. She knows she can’t reach him.

She has just one purpose.

“You’re not getting to Dwalki... Urk!”

His kick slams Misha into the wall again. But instead of heading straight for Dwalki, he rushes toward the unconscious Misha.

His intentions are obvious. He means to finish her off and steal her one remaining sword.

This fucking thieving bastard.

“Didn’t he tell you? That belongs to us.”

I swing my mace as though swatting away a fly, and he moves away from Misha without hesitation. Then he smirks.

“Barbarian, don’t tell me you still intend to fight?”

What’s this fucking idiot on about? Of course I do.

Instead of answering, I charge him.

WHOOSH!

He easily retreats out of reach and says,

“Don’t tell me you’re relying on that trash? A few curses aside, all he has is Ice Spear and Cold Burst.”

Of course I am. So what if they’re low-tier attack spells? One through the head will kill him just the same.

Just once. Even a lucky shot will do—we only need to hit him once. I’ll buy time however I can until then.

“Dwalki!!”

Figuring it’s about time for another spell, I shout at the top of my lungs.

But what the hell is this?

‘Motherfucker.’

No spell comes.

* * *

Leor Wuerv Dwalki, a royally certified mage.

It was no coincidence that he had gone out of his way to apply to a team with only two warriors.

He wanted to seem special. So he chose the easiest option.

He thought a mage would seem more valuable alongside two warriors. But it had not taken long for his true worth to be exposed.

[“Hahaha, my name is Leor Wuerv Dwalki, a grade-eight mage certified by Raphdonia’s royal family—”]

[“I wondered what you were. Just trash, after all.”]

Trash.

Someone his fellow mages would not even acknowledge as a mage.

[“Hahaha! So our whole team is made up of halfwits? That’s actually for the best. It means none of us needs to feel intimidated by the others.”]

Even so, they told him it was all right. They understood, saying they were no different.

It felt like salvation. He even wondered whether the whole of his twenty-five years had existed just so he could meet them.

But...

[“Don’t tell me you’re relying on that trash? A few curses aside, all he has is Ice Spear and Cold Burst.”]

In the end, his true nature had not changed. His first real moment to shine had come, yet he had failed to accomplish a single thing properly.

No matter how powerful his mana became, he was a subpar mage.

A subpar mage who could not even live up to his precious companions’ expectations.

And despite that...

[“Get back!”]

His friend had protected him.

[“This belongs to us.”]

He had failed to save his companion, smiling with a sword embedded in him.

[“You’re not getting to Dwalki... Urk!”]

He had failed to protect the woman he loved.

That realization left his mind blank. Helplessness beyond measure robbed him of breath.

If he could, he would have fled this cruel reality right then and there.

But...

“Unfortunately, it seems he’s already given up.”

He must not give up. Perhaps if he were the only one left, but wasn’t his precious companion still fighting?

Alone, to protect them all.

“Barbarian, surely you know too? It’s already over.”

Despite the bastard’s mockery, he silently swung his mace and spat the blood filling his mouth into the bastard’s face.

To the very, very end, wasn’t he fighting with everything he had?

[“You look brighter. Do you like your companions that much?”]

Beginning his incantation, Dwalki recalled a conversation from another day. It was a conversation with an instructor at the Magic Tower’s training school, shortly after the troll battle.

[“What? You want me to teach you magic that can kill a troll? Well, hmm... It’s not as though there isn’t a way.”]

That day, Dwalki had paid the instructor a large sum to learn a spell. No, more precisely, he had learned a “spell combination.”

The instructor taught him, but warned him over and over never to use it. Yet...

‘Accelerated Thinking.’

His Perception improves dramatically, and time slows.

‘Mana Amplification.’

His heart stimulates the mana stored within it, temporarily increasing his Output.

‘Heart Acceleration.’

He forcibly raises his heart rate, spreading mana throughout his body, and layers on other mental and sensory spells notorious for their severe side effects.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

His heart pounds as though it will burst, circulating mana throughout his body. Yet his mind is clearer than ever, and everything before his eyes is sharp.

He feels as though he could do anything.

[“What’s its name? It doesn’t have an exact name. It’s a combination people pick up by word of mouth. But if I had to give it one...”]

[“Hmm, let’s see. ‘Sacrifice’ doesn’t sound quite right.”]

Dwalki extends a hand.

That is all he does.

[“Yes, ‘Awakening’ should do nicely.”]

The basic attack spell, Mana Arrow.

Dozens of arrows become light and shoot forth.