How to Survive Against Villains Chapter 124

Chapter 124: Crux

A mocking voice rang out from the communication crystal.

[Hey, insect. If you don’t want to be discarded like trash, do your job properly. We’re watching you.]

“……”

[What’s with the silence? Can’t understand human speech, bug? Should I stomp on you to get a reaction?]

“…Understood.”

[You have until the rain stops. If I hear that the target escaped before then, you know what happens, right? You wouldn’t want to lt away like your underling. So get moving—that’s why we let you live.]

“Yes.”

[I’ve got important business to handle now. Don’t contact again.]

As soon as the connection was cut and the crystal dimd, the middle-aged man clenched his fist and ground his teeth.

Short hair, weathered features hardened by forty years of life.

He had once been the master of an assassination organization nad after himself, but now, he was nothing more than a lowly assassin clinging to life.

Crux.

The forr master of the Crux organization swallowed his frustration as mories of his old status flickered through his mind. He wanted nothing more than to curse them out, but he knew there could be spies—those who had sold out to the twin brothers—watching him.

Rising from his seat, he handed the communication crystal to the shaman.

“We have our orders. We need to…”

“Shut up and go gather the n. We heard everything already.”

The shaman’s voice was dripping with disdain.

To the shamans, assassins weren’t people.

They were disposable tools—or offerings.

At the shaman’s signal, a colossal figure lood behind Crux.

A Van Dyke cursed puppet.

As the monstrous construct approached without a sound, Crux felt his breath hitch.

It was these abominable weapons that had brought his organization, built over decades, crashing down in a single day.

“What are you staring at? Didn’t you hear ? Go gather the n.”

“A-Alright.”

He should’ve been filled with rage, fueled by a thirst for revenge, but instead, only fear resided in his mind.

He had witnessed his officers being torn apart during the process of creating the cursed puppets.

How could he even think of revenge?

That was sothing you pursued against humans.

But these things weren’t human.

They were demons—monsters one should never provoke.

He had given up on revenge long ago. For those who had succumbed to fear, only the will to survive remained.

He was no longer the master of Crux.

“The n have assembled.”

The shaman, seated atop the shoulder of the Van Dyke puppet, scanned the gathered assassins.

There were around a hundred of them—a sizable number.

These were assassins who had survived the shamans’ onslaught but hadn’t been deed worthy as offerings or components for the cursed puppets. They now served as the hunting dog division.

“Show your brands.”

At the shaman’s order, all the assassins, including Crux, raised their left hands, revealing marks branded on the backs of their hands.

“The mark of the Nest is a curse that can only be erased in death. If you want freedom, die in service to us.”

The brand of the Nest was a mark of servitude, an inescapable curse that bound anyone dragged into the shamans’ lair.

“The mission begins now.”

After a brief glance at Crux, the shaman turned the Van Dyke puppet around.

His role was rely that of a guide. The actual execution of the mission was left to Crux and his assassins. As he focused on the communication crystal, awaiting further instructions, a voice soon flowed through it.

[The target’s location will be relayed shortly.]

The Van Dyke began to tear through the forest at a rapid pace, with Crux leading his team of assassins in pursuit.

As they ran, Crux recalled the mission that had been entrusted to him.

It was simple.

Once they spotted Lochter, their task was to latch onto him and buy as much ti as possible.

It wasn’t an assassination attempt, but rather a delaying tactic to immobilize the target.

The mission ca directly from the upper echelons. The twin brothers, who didn’t plan to move until the rain stopped, had sent him ahead.

‘Those bastards are probably busy defiling the won they abducted last night.’

He didn’t need to see it to know what kind of depraved acts they were committing.

Even in the middle of a mission, if they heard rumors about a noble’s daughter, a knight’s daughter, or even a female knight, they would kidnap them without hesitation.

If not for the protection of Blyer’s lord, the assassins’ blades would have long turned on the twins.

Their notorious lust was well-known, and even the lord of Blyer had to endure the damage to his reputation because of them.

But despite their vices, the lord tolerated them because of their exceptional skills.

‘Those twin brothers… They are terrifying.’

Before the twins appeared, Crux had temporarily led this operation. When they arrived, he lost all command authority. He had initially underestimated them and tried to resist by mobilizing his vice-master.

That was when he first witnessed the younger brother, Howell, in action.

‘The vice-master turned into a pool of blood in an instant.’

The ease with which Howell had slain the vice-master, a 4-star, had left Crux shaken.

What made it worse was that even now, he didn’t fully understand Howell’s abilities.

One thing was clear:

If the vice-master was 4-star, and Howell had effortlessly killed him, then the older brother, Jack, was even more formidable.

As they ran through the forest, Crux glanced up at the sky. Though it was dayti, thick clouds darkened the atmosphere, making it feel like dusk.

The relentless downpour was beginning to let up, just as the twins had predicted.

‘We just need to hold out for a little longer.’

Just a little longer.

“Corpses up ahead.”

The Van Dyke puppet at the front ca to a halt. The shaman pointed at bodies lying in the grass, prompting Crux to signal his team.

The assassins spread out to examine the corpses.

The shaman was only responsible for guiding them to the target’s general vicinity. It was up to Crux and his assassins to track down the precise location by following the trail.

While the shaman rely observed, Crux commanded the assassins to search for signs.

His authority over them stemd from his unique ability.

The ability to create special insects—specifically, the self-detonating Boom bugs.

Every assassin had a Boom bug implanted near their heart, courtesy of the twin brothers.

Unlike conventional Boom bugs, which couldn’t be detonated remotely, Crux’s ability allowed him to detonate any bug within a 10-ter radius.

This range was considered too close for comfort by experts, but it was ideal for eliminating traitors. Now, it was his only ans of proving his usefulness—and staying alive.

“Fifteen bodies, all slave hunters.”

“Those greedy bastards charged in like moths to a fla. Any signs of who killed them?”

“They were all taken down by a single person.”

“It’s Lochter. Follow the trail.”

The assassins began to follow the path left by Lochter, with the shaman trailing behind them.

As they continued, they saw more corpses scattered along the forest path—slave hunters who had been taken down in a single strike.

“Idiots. Do they not realize they’re dealing with Lochter Felice?”

This was the forr commander of Blyer’s knights they were after.

Was there even a knight left in Blyer capable of defeating him?

Greed for the 1 million gold bounty had clouded their judgnt. Even knowing the risks, they had rushed in, hoping to claim the reward before others could.

“We’ve got a tail.”

“A tail?”

They had detected groups following them—ranging from small squads of ten to larger groups of dozens. Judging by their gear, they were also slave hunters.

Their numbers continued to grow.

“What should we do?”

“Ignore them.”

At this point, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that every slave hunter in Tobaron had gathered near the Korun River.

The more heads that joined the fray, the better it was for Crux. It would create chaos, making it easier for him to carry out his mission.

A short while later, the assassins halted upon entering a dimly lit forest path where light barely filtered through.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ve lost the trail.”

“What?”

Crux personally stepped forward to investigate.

Lochter’s trail had abruptly disappeared, as if he had been swallowed by the earth.

Looking up, he saw a dense canopy of trees overhead. Could it be that Lochter had climbed up and moved through the treetops?

He ordered the assassins to search the trees thoroughly, but they found no trace of him.

They had lost the trail.

Still, Crux had another option.

He turned to the shaman.

“Please guide us.”

“Useless fools.”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, the shaman focused on the communication crystal. The target’s location was periodically transmitted.

Monts later,

[The target’s location will be relayed.]

“……Huh?”

The shaman furrowed his brow in confusion as he tried to divine the direction through his magic.

But he couldn’t see anything.

Had the information been wrong?

No. The communication crystal was still broadcasting updates about Lochter’s position.

[Northeast. The target is heading upward.]

[Looks like he’ll pass through the forested area. We’ll wait on the other side.]

Had he made a mistake?

He tried casting the spell again, but still, he couldn’t discern the direction.

Unable to understand the situation, he began walking around aimlessly, hoping the direction would eventually beco clear.

But then—

Thunk!

“……!”

The ground beneath them suddenly gave way, and from beneath the Van Dyke puppet, a dark figure shot upward.

Dirt and debris scattered as a fierce, determined gaze erged from the shadows.

The shaman’s eyes widened in shock. The silhouette and face were unmistakable.

“Lo… Loch… Lochter!”

Slash!

In one swift motion, the Van Dyke puppet was cleaved in half from its groin upward, and the shaman was split in two by the sa blade.

Amid the falling blood, Lochter raised his sword once more.

Vuuung—

A brilliant blue aura enveloped the blade—the unmistakable mark of a 5-star knight.

As he stepped forward, ready to press the attack—

Grab!

“……”

A massive hand clamped around his ankle.

The bisected Van Dyke puppet had latched onto him. Without a shaman to control it, it was rely a moving doll, but it still posed a hindrance.

Lochter swiftly severed the hand and charged forward, cutting down everything in his path.

“Graaagh!”

“It’s Lochter!”

“Stop him…!”

Within monts, the ten slave hunters waiting at the next path were felled by his sword, and the assassins trailing him began to lose their heads one by one.

He had cut down three out of five in an instant and was about to deal with the remaining two when it happened.

The retreating assassins suddenly froze in place, their bodies rigid, before letting out shrill screams as they exploded.

A chilling premonition made Lochter hastily cross his sword and scabbard.

BOOOOM!

“……!”

An explosion erupted.

Lochter grunted in pain as he was thrown backward.

The impact had been greater than expected.

Blood seeped from wounds on his arms, shoulders, and thighs, staining his clothes. He had been grazed by bone fragnts.

Self-detonation. Watching Crux retreat to a safe distance, Lochter’s eyes grew cold.

Piiiiiiiiiiiiik!

The shrill sound of a whistle echoed.

Lochter Felice.

The target had been found.

Crux blew the whistle again, signaling to summon nearby slave hunters.

“Damn shaman bastard!”

The Van Dyke puppet, which was supposed to serve as a shield, had been rendered useless far too easily.

Had Lochter been aiming for it all along?

If so, he had struck a perfect weak point.

With the assassins forming a periter and archers ard with crossbows ready, Crux entered full-on stalling mode.

A brief standoff ensued.

“He’s coming!”

“Eeit—!”

Lochter charged forward with incredible speed, giving them no ti to hesitate.

Crux scowled and snapped his fingers. So of the assassins he had positioned as a wall were exactly ten ters away from him.

BOOM!

The assassin in Lochter’s path exploded.

The mont the Boom bug detonated, Crux signaled the remaining assassins to unleash a barrage of bolts.

The rain of bolts carried a sinister red glow—each one cursed by the shaman. Even a graze would have an effect.

Faced with the relentless counterattack, Lochter cursed under his breath and retreated slightly.

Minor wounds began accumulating rapidly.

He knew he needed to take out the central figure, but getting there required breaching the self-detonating assassins and enduring the hail of bolts.

Alone, it would be nearly impossible.

Retreating seed like the logical choice, yet Lochter didn’t back down. He remained in place, drawing their attention while preparing for another charge.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

More assassins detonated as the standoff continued, and just then, a loud shout echoed from behind.

“Lochter Felice! One million gold!”

“Get him!!!!!!”

“Uwaaaaah!”

A massive wave of ard slave hunters rushed in from all directions.

As the swarm of hunters closed in, Lochter’s eyes glead with cold determination.