Chapter 116 – Signal of Awakening
BOOOOM—!
My ambush pattern against the hunting teams remained the sa as before.
First, I eliminated the knight in a single strike using the Ring of Blood charged to maximum output and enchanted with Pierce. Then, the Bandikes were taken down by a barrage of arrows infused with Holy Power, reducing them to nothing but ash.
Once those two were dealt with, the shamans weren’t even worth calling a post-al workout.
“Kyaaaah!”
The dark shamans shrieked as they recoiled from the blinding golden light. Whenever they attempted to use their black magic, I countered by detonating bursts of light. Each ti, they would cough up blood and convulse violently, as if their very life force was being shattered.
The battle ended in re monts. One of the shamans attempted to flee into the forest, but Nella quickly pursued him.
More precisely, she sent Banri, the shadow spirit, after him.
Ever since hearing about Jack and Howell, I’d been actively involving Banri in battles. It was necessary to assess Banri’s combat capabilities since the spirit was currently staying by Nella’s side instead of Fenry’s.
There was also an unexpected gain from these battles—Nella’s archery skills.
Well, given her elven heritage, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
As a support unit, she was more than capable of holding her own. Of course, summoning that troubleso Fenry would have been the best option, but that wasn’t feasible right now.
“Is this the last one?”
Including the first hunting team we took down, we had successfully hunted four teams in total.
If the information we gathered was correct, we had eliminated all of the shamans who had entered Laup Forest for hunting.
Good. A day like this is rare.
I an, constantly being on the run was too harsh even for my self-respect.
“Alright, ti to clean up!”
While Banri went after the last fleeing shaman, I gathered the fallen shamans into one spot.
As I waited for her return, I reviewed the previous battles and recalled a conversation I once had with Reto during my downti after suffering the aftereffects of Burst Strike.
‘What’s the difference?’
I’d once wondered about the similarities between Chiras and dark shamans—both of which seed especially vulnerable to Holy Power.
I didn’t spend long thinking about it, though. Instead, I went straight to Reto, my ever-reliable walking encyclopedia.
[It’s the difference in the energy they contain.]
“The difference in energy?”
[Your Holy Power corrects disorderly energy. The more incomplete the energy within them, the greater the impact when they co into contact with your power.]
Since Chiras were created by stitching together various body parts, they were inherently unstable. Dark shamans, on the other hand, drew their strength by stealing the souls of others, which also resulted in unstable energy.
In short, their commonality was chaos.
Thus, chaotic energy was like poison to them when confronted with my power.
However, there was one thing I still didn’t understand.
“Why didn’t the zombies in the abandoned mine react to my power?”
[If you’re talking about the dead, it’s obvious. The force animating them was perfect darkness.]
“…Perfect darkness?”
[Yes, it ans pure darkness without any cracks.]
“Isn’t Holy Power supposed to be the opposite of darkness?”
[Your Holy Power isn’t like the fanatical light that clashes with darkness. It’s a power that seeks harmony, without conflict with any particular attribute. What opposes your Holy Power are beings that disrupt harmony.]
In other words, Chiras and dark shamans were vulnerable to my power because they were entities that disrupted harmony.
Although Reto’s explanation was convoluted, I managed to grasp the essential point.
My power corrected disorderly energy, and it was thanks to this harmonious nature that I had been able to resist the corruption of my heart.
I had unknowingly escaped death.
“Who was the being that granted you the power to fuel your desire for ‘death’?”
I was curious.
Reto’s desire had been Death itself—a force powerful enough to seal off the dwarves’ mine for nearly a century and even extinguish the body of an immortal.
In my case, Reto had directly filled my vessel with power. But who had done the sa for Reto?
[It was the authority of Jess Milo, the King of the Dead. He’s a being who delights in guiding the living into death or toying with them. If you manage to survive long enough, you’ll et him eventually.]
“…Why would I et him?”
Jess Milo, the King of the Dead, was a na I was all too familiar with—a demonic entity who reveled in leading people to their deaths.
For soone like , whose sole goal was survival, just hearing his na made feel like I needed to cleanse my ears. He was at the top of my list of entities I never wanted to encounter.
But et him? Why?
At that mont, I could almost feel Reto chuckling darkly in my mind.
Was he… laughing?
Don’t tell … Is Reto on friendly terms with Jess Milo? If that’s the case, why didn’t he ntion it earlier…?
[No, we’re bitter enemies. To him, I’m an incomplete existence—a flaw in his otherwise perfect view of death.]
***
“Ah, damn it.”
Goosebumps spread across my arm as a shiver ran down my spine.
I shook off the unpleasant thoughts and tried to erase my ntal conversation with Reto.
Reto, the immortal.
Jess Milo, the King of the Dead.
An immortal freak and a death-obsessed lunatic.
I wanted no part in the clash between those two monstrous weirdos.
“Best to just forget about beings whose nas I don’t even want to recall.”
[Are you referring to Jess Milo?]
“Shut up!”
Trying to shake off the bad vibes, I rubbed both ears with my fingers. That’s when I realized more ti had passed than I had expected.
“They’re taking longer than usual.”
Normally, by now, Banri should have returned, dragging the fleeing shaman along.
I started to feel uneasy. What if sothing happened to Nella? If she got hurt, Fenry would probably chop to pieces in revenge.
Just as that ominous thought crossed my mind, I spotted Nella erging from the forest.
But she looked disheveled, covered in dust, as if she had rolled around on the ground. As I approached, she gave an awkward smile.
“What happened to you?”
“Ah, well…”
Perched atop Nella’s head was Banri, her raincoat-like figure sprawled out in an OTL pose. She seed utterly dejected. Just a while ago, she had been proudly puffing out her chest, full of confidence—what happened to her?
At first, I thought they might have lost the shaman, but that wasn’t the case. Behind Nella, I could see the shaman being dragged along with both arms broken.
“I think Banri is upset because I nearly got hurt. Things got a little rough back there.”
“What happened exactly?”
“That shaman was different from the others. He not only blocked Banri’s attacks but even counterattacked.”
Blocked and counterattacked?
That level of skill would make him a standout even among the Nest of Shamans.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, it’s nothing serious—just a few scrapes.”
While Nella tended to her wounds and comforted Banri, I dragged the captured shaman back to where the other shamans had been gathered.
It was ti to consolidate the information we had gathered.
This ti, I had high hopes.
“Kyaaaaah!”
Awakened by the burst of Holy Power, the shamans scread in agony. I asked them the sa questions I had posed to the previous teams and received similar answers. However, there was sothing special about the last shaman we had captured—he was apparently the leader of the hunting teams.
No wonder his skill had been on a different level.
Since he was their leader, it was highly likely that he had information the others didn’t possess.
As I infused him with Holy Power, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation.
“Grrk! Kill !!”
He was tough.
His bloodshot eyes glared at fiercely as he tried to bite his own tongue, but I shoved my fist into his mouth to stop him.
The pain made him furrow his brow slightly, but he kept biting down with murderous intent.
It didn’t seem like Holy Power alone would be enough to break him.
I smirked bitterly and asked Reto,
“Of the twenty thods, do you have one that can make this guy talk?”
[He’s quite a stubborn one.]
Hearing Reto use the word “quite” ant this wasn’t going to be easy.
A mont later, Reto’s voice returned.
[Use an enchantnt.]
“…An enchantnt?”
[Holy Power should work well.]
Would it really be okay?
Even I, who had grown sowhat accustod to pain, couldn’t endure the backlash of a failed enchantnt—it was agonizing enough to drive anyone mad.
Having experienced that tornt firsthand, I hesitated briefly before proceeding. Using enchantnt on a person felt like sothing only a truly twisted villain would do. But looking at the shaman’s face, I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
Seriously, talking about villainy in front of soone who sacrificed people for power?
He continued biting down on my fist with all his might.
Fine, go ahead and die, then.
Monts later, golden light burst forth from the shaman’s body.
“……!!!!!!!!!!!!”
His jaw slackened, and my bloodied fist slipped out of his mouth. His eyes, blood vessels burst, and his entire face trembled uncontrollably.
He gasped for breath, too overwheld to even scream.
I’d wondered what I would do if the enchantnt had succeeded, but thankfully it had failed—or rather, succeeded in the way I had hoped.
Monts later, the shaman blinked twice—a clear signal of surrender.
As I reduced the intensity of the enchantnt, I asked,
“The reason why Carl went to Etor Territory—what is it?”
“To… et Rengua…”
“To et Rengua Field? And then?”
“To… execute… the plan…”
“What plan?”
I completely withdrew the enchantnt.
The shaman’s expression relaxed for a brief mont, as if he was finally free from the tornt. But just as he was about to speak—
“To unleash the Mad— Kuuaaargh!”
The mont the word ‘Mad’ left his lips, the shaman let out an ear-splitting scream and began convulsing violently.
BOOM!
“……!”
I flinched as bits of flesh splattered across my face.
I stared blankly at the mangled corpse of the shaman lying in a pool of blood.
Before I could do anything, his head had exploded, killing him instantly.
No matter how many tis I saw it, this kind of spectacle was always utterly revolting.
[It’s a language constraint. A particularly nasty one.]
“…Tch.”
I quietly brushed off the blood and took a deep breath.
I had montarily forgotten that our enemy was the Nest of Shamans.
I had let my guard down.
After a brief sigh, I ensured that the remaining shamans were put down swiftly and painlessly.
A short while later, Nella approached, concern evident in her gaze as she asked,
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Dark shamans are just as vile as I expected.”
“They’re wicked to the core. You can’t face them without a hardened resolve.”
Hearing an elf say sothing like that underscored just how detestable these shamans were.
I needed to beco even more ruthless.
I steeled my resolve once again.
“Did you get the information you were looking for?”
“This confirms my suspicions. I know where Lochter Felice is likely hiding.”
“Where?”
“Blyer Territory.”
The shamans hadn’t provided any direct information about Lochter. All they kept repeating was that they were still searching for him.
But every ti I heard that Lochter’s trail was nowhere to be found, my confidence grew.
Lochter was with Karl Bastain.
Karl had a trait called Danger Sense, making him perfect for evasion. Once he decided to go into hiding, tracking him down would be incredibly difficult.
He also had a knack for digging hideouts underground.
[Once in a while, trust what people tell you.]
Before we parted ways, Karl had casually ntioned a way to get revenge on Crux and had hinted at Lochter’s whereabouts. He had told to trust him and wait in Blyer.
‘So he really trusted what I said.’
Despite looking like a rugged bandit, Karl was as cunning as a fox.
What exactly had he seen in to make him alter his future plans?
Whatever it was, if Karl was leading Lochter, they were likely hiding sowhere in Blyer, using their familiarity with the region to their advantage.
‘Our guild, Hunt, might be gaining two more mbers soon.’
If Karl Bastain joined, that would be a huge win.
The problem now was getting both of them out alive and safely back to Beneta.
Jack and Howell, who led the Hunting Dog Unit, were lying in wait.
According to what I learned from the shamans, the Hunting Dog Unit was keeping a low profile, ready to pounce the mont Lochter’s trail was uncovered. The elite forces were on standby, while trackers had been dispatched in all directions.
‘The real problem is that Crux has been absorbed into the Hunting Dog Unit.’
Crux’s forr master…
The very person responsible for betraying Karl and feeding him to the dogs.
This mission involved Karl’s personal vendetta as well.
It was troubling news.
It ant the Hunting Dog Unit included an organization capable of tracking Karl’s movents.
“We’ll head to Wailing Hill.”
“Isn’t the Black Rose already stationed there?”
“There’s sothing I need to check.”
Wailing Hill—a cetery located on the outskirts of Blyer, nad for the constant sound of weeping said to echo from its grounds.
It had beco a symbol of despair ever since Carl took control of Blyer.
Countless people had died under Carl’s rule, and many of them were buried there.
More importantly, it was also where the loved ones of Lochter Felice, the hero, had been laid to rest.
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