Ash Judge.
Of course—it judges whether an Ashen One is qualified to link the fire.
Clearing Phase 1 flawlessly and without taking damage was enough to prove his strength to Gundyr.
As for—the second phase, where the Pus of Man infection within the Ash Judge fully erupted, twisting it into a grotesque form—
Since this virus was created by the Abyss itself, Ron couldn't guarantee whether it was contagious.
If sothing this twisted… were brought outside the fog gate—into the world of Orario—he didn't even dare imagine the consequences.
As a sedint of humanity—and with humanity itself being sothing impossible to fully grasp—once infected, there was no cure.
"Damn it."
"If I'd known I'd have to fight the Ash Judge, no matter what, I wouldn't have let Lefiya and the others co in!"
Forget the Black Dragon crisis—if the Pus of Man virus broke out in Orario, the destruction would be far more absolute.
Quickly pulling back to a safe distance, Ron swept his gaze over the girls, who were currently frozen in shock, stunned by the grotesque horror of the virus.
His brows furrowed tightly.
"You need to be careful."
"This virus is contagious. If it spreads back to Orario… the consequences will be unimaginable. Leave the fighting to ."
"…"
With such a precedent right in front of them—staring at the bloated, diseased mass writhing behind the Ash Judge—Lefiya felt her trypophobia flare up.
The swollen, mutated flesh had grown so grotesquely large, it looked like it might crush the tall figure beneath its own weight.
If she were infected… would she end up like that too?
The elven girl nodded heavily.
Just as she was about to ask whether Ron needed help—she saw what he did next.
The cracked stone pendant veined with golden threads was clenched in his palm.
No chant was needed.
Lefiya could clearly feel the surging magical power within Ron's body, gathering into visible red lightning.
Incantation!
Lansseax's Glaive!
A blade of magic forged from red lightning materialized in his hand.
At such close range, she could clearly feel—the violent, tyrannical aura contained within that spell.
"Hrrgh—!"
With a distorted roar from the grotesque creature ahead—the Ash Judge in its second phase, now a mass of writhing flesh—lunged directly toward Ron and Lefiya.
Its shriveled claws lashed out, attempting to tear the humans apart!
"Damn it…"
If he had no restraints—fighting the Pus of Man wouldn't be difficult for Ron at all.
But looking at the Ash Judge charging forward—the red lightning blade already fully ford in his palm—there was no need for technique.
He swung decisively.
The crackling red lightning exploded through the air—and with a flash of blazing crimson light—
"Shhhk—!"
The magic weapon shattered the mont it made contact with the Ash Judge.
But the violent energy found its outlet—
engulfing the massive flesh-beast in a storm of red lightning.
Because it had only just ford—the mutated mass of the Pus of Man had little defensive capability.
The ancient dragon lightning tore it apart instantly—obliterating the bloated flesh behind the Ash Judge—leaving only its shredded body behind.
"That easy?"
"…"
The Pus of Man infecting the Ash Judge—in Dark Souls III, it was basically just roadside trash-tier.
But the grotesque scene had left a deep psychological scar on Ron.
He didn't approach recklessly.
Instead, he maintained distance and observed.
At that mont—Lefiya suddenly cried out: "Ron…"
"Look at the Ash Judge—those… black tadpoles crawling out of its body—what are those things?!"
"…"
So this is how it spreads?
Ron's pupils shrank.
Those countless, writhing black tadpoles—as if sensing a host—were crawling toward him.
If he had carelessly gone to loot the corpse after killing it—the consequences would've been disastrous.
"Stay behind ."
There was no hesitation.
His ti in the Dungeon had already sharpened his combat instincts to the extre.
He gripped the sacred seal tightly once more.
Dragonfire!
A blazing crimson emblem representing dragon communion manifested behind him.
As magic surged—the phantom image of an ancient dragon's head took shape.
Flas—dragon-blood-infused flas—erupted from its maw.
They spread outward in a wide-area sweeping attack—the intense heat drying the surrounding air—and those writhing black tadpoles… were completely incinerated the mont they were touched by the flas.
"…"
To prevent anything from slipping through—Ron carefully controlled the coverage of the Dragonfire—ensuring there was absolutely no chance of infection.
Only when—the distant fog gate ahead finally ca into view—did he let out a breath.
"Should be… cleaned up, right?"
His expression remained serious.
His gaze swept over Tiona behind him—and the elf girl, who seed deep in thought.
After repeatedly encountering such abnormal events—this Amazoness girl from the Country of Blood and Fighting—felt a strange sense of unease when eting Ron's deep brown eyes.
It wasn't because he was stronger than her.
If she had to describe it—it was the sheer depth of mystery surrounding him—as if there were secrets that could never be fully uncovered.
"Why are you looking at like that?!"
She wasn't exactly flustered—but this kind of abstract concept was hard for Tiona to grasp.
Why would the Ash Judge mutate so rapidly after infection?
And—how exactly did this virus spread?
Still, she understood Ron's concern about safety.
"I'm watching, okay? I'm still a First-Class Adventurer—there's no way I'd get infected."
"And Lefiya too…"
"Um… is this virus like a plague?"
Before coming to Orario—Tiona rembered that her holand had once suffered a small-scale outbreak.
But with healers present, it had been quickly contained.
"Sothing like that."
In terms of infectivity—the Pus of Man virus far exceeded any ordinary plague.
Ron nodded slightly.
"But a plague can be treated."
"This virus—once infected, there's no cure."
"It could very well… bring down the entire order of Orario."
"…"
Just hearing that—the tan-skinned Amazoness felt a chill run down her spine.
Imagining adventurers in Orario—suddenly mutating at any mont—she understood exactly what kind of disaster that would bring.
"Good thing… we've dealt with it completely. Otherwise, we wouldn't even be able to leave this place."
Ron spoke with a hint of relief.
This short exploration beyond the fog gate—had served as a serious warning.
But in terms of gains—it had also been extrely rewarding.
His gaze shifted forward—to the weapon in the distance.
A massive spiral greatsword, its surface covered in dark golden patterns.
It wasn't the spiral sword from Dark Souls.
No—a different na fit it better.
"Godslayer's Greatsword."
So—what exactly—was this God-Slaying Greatsword ant to hunt?
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