Chapter 144: You’re Ugly, Though
The mysterious young woman who pulled Arthur from the river knelt beside his collapsed form, poking his head with the end of a stick. She looked more like a child playing a prank than an adult.
Lochter left her alone.
He couldn’t explain why, but he shared a strange sense of awareness with soone else at the mont—Karl Bastain.
Lochter didn’t fully understand Karl’s abilities. However, he could feel Karl’s emotions in real ti—the pressure when Karl tensed, the relief when he relaxed, and the shock when things took a turn for the worse.
It was as if their senses were resonating.
Even during battles, that resonance had changed how Lochter fought. His forrly rigid combat style had beco sharper, more adaptive.
He wasn’t sure why, but this resonance had made him realize for the first ti how rigid he had been in combat.
He decided he’d need to talk to Karl about this strange phenonon later. For now, one thing was clear: the woman in front of them wasn’t a threat.
‘Even if she were dangerous, there’s nothing I could do right now.’
The battle had been brutal—so much so that Lochter was simply grateful no one had died.
Of his companions, only he was still conscious, and even then, he was barely holding himself upright, leaning on a broken sword.
If the woman did have malicious intent, he couldn’t bring himself to think about it.
Even a brief mont of rest was sweet relief. Straightening his back, Lochter scanned his surroundings.
The shamans, their puppets, and the golden mannequins—none of the dangerous enemies remained.
That was thanks to the black beast.
‘What was that thing?’
The enormous creature, roughly the size of a carriage, was covered in black fur and resembled a wolf-like monster. But it was far beyond any ordinary monster in terms of presence and power.
It had torn apart the golden mannequins with its claws and fangs, and had flung the armored puppets into the river. It was a being so powerful that Lochter doubted he could defeat it one-on-one.
He glanced toward the river. The water, now swollen and turbulent, surged with force.
He had been concerned that the puppets might return, but with the shamans dead, they appeared to have lost their function.
It seed safe—for now.
Just as Lochter allowed himself to relax, the woman spoke.
“That man over there looks like he’s in danger.”
“...What?”
“Over there.”
She blinked and pointed toward Karl, who lay unconscious and covered in blood.
His chest was rising and falling steadily, so she wasn’t referring to his physical state.
In that mont, a strange, prickling sensation ran down Lochter’s spine.
Clink, clink—
“...What is that?”
His expression hardened as he forced his heavy body to move.
The area around Karl began to shimr faintly.
Scattered piles of gold coins—worth thousands—rolled toward Karl with unnatural speed, as if they were alive.
The sight was eerie enough to send a chill down Lochter’s back.
He gritted his teeth, hoisted Karl onto his shoulders, and sprinted toward the woman.
Sothing deep inside told him he needed to get closer to her.
As Lochter changed direction, the rolling coins followed him, shifting course to pursue.
So coins even leapt into the air, aiming for him, and an instinctual warning echoed in his mind.
Don’t let them touch you.
Drawing on his last reserves of strength, Lochter pushed his exhausted body forward. His limbs felt like lead, and his breath ca in ragged gasps.
Then, he heard the woman’s voice.
“Oh, so that’s what it was.”
In her hand was a wooden totem, emanating a dark and ominous energy.
After inspecting it briefly, she placed it on the ground and began stomping on it with casual ease.
Crack!
As the totem shattered beneath her feet, the air grew eerily still.
Lochter turned to look behind him and froze.
The coins that had been chasing him now lay scattered lifelessly on the ground, as if they had never moved at all.
“Thank you.”
Lochter approached her and offered his gratitude, but the woman remained silent, staring intently at the shattered totem fragnts.
After a mont, she turned her gaze toward Arthur, her expression curious.
“So that’s why he threw it earlier. How did he know? Even I didn’t sense it.”
Muttering to herself, she gestured with her hand. A floating broomstick drifted toward her, carrying Arthur with it. It hovered by her side as she moved.
anwhile, the woman plucked the skull ornant from a shaman’s staff and placed it atop the shattered totem.
She stomped on it again for good asure.
After dusting off her hands, she looked satisfied, perched herself on her broomstick, and said, “If you don’t want to die, follow .”
With that, she flew off into the forest without another word.
Lochter hesitated, her cryptic remark hanging in the air.
If you don’t want to die, follow .
Was that a threat? Or advice?
And why had she broken the skull?
Lochter couldn’t make sense of her, but he didn’t have much of a choice.
With a weary sigh, he adjusted Karl on his back and began to follow.
***
By the ti they reached a safer spot, the battlefield had grown eerily quiet.
The scattered gold coins trembled faintly, then began to shift.
They rolled across the ground, converging at the shattered totem’s location.
As the coins gathered, they lted into a golden liquid, absorbing one another until a shimring golden puddle ford.
Plop—
Ripples spread across the surface, and soon, sothing began to rise from the golden pool.
It was a humanoid statue, its features vague and indistinct.
The golden figure scanned its surroundings slowly, then tilted its head.
[Strange. I was certain I felt it...]
The energy had been so foul, so dirty, yet so alluring that it had piqued its curiosity.
What was it?
It couldn’t rember, as if the mory was veiled in mist.
All it recalled was the overwhelming desire it had felt in that fleeting mont—a desire to kill.
As it lingered on the thought, its vague features twisted into a grin, and a surge of violent exhilaration coursed through it.
[What a filthy energy... it ruined everything.]
The golden figure glanced down at the shattered remnants of the totem.
Then, its body began to dissolve like molten wax, the golden liquid seeping into the ground until not a trace remained.
The only thing left behind was a faint mark of Jess Milo etched into the debris.
***
“Blegh! Uweeegh!”
Karl shot upright and began vomiting.
If life had its monts of despair, this was one of them. Alarms were blaring in his head, urging him to purge everything from his stomach imdiately.
Leaning against a rock, he retched violently, no longer resembling the near-dead figure he had been monts ago.
Lochter watched him in silence, then set down the brown bottle he had been holding.
“Do you want more?”
“...No, I’m fine.”
“You said you were in pain. Just drink it already.”
“I made this special potion myself. In my forest, it’s given to people as punishnt, but it really works. One sip and you’ll be back on your feet.”
“...Did you drink it yourself?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“No reason.”
After a mont, Karl slumped down beside Lochter, letting out a hollow laugh.
“You okay?”
“Shit... I thought I was gonna die...”
“Is it working, though?”
“Why? Are you thinking of drinking it?”
“We’re still in Blyer’s territory. Who knows when more enemies might show up.”
“Damn it. I want to argue, but you’re right.”
Karl clenched his fists and nodded reluctantly. He could feel his strength gradually returning, even if his wounds weren’t healing as quickly.
Lochter’s expression darkened as Karl spoke, but he soon shook it off and got to his feet.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
Disappearing into the forest, Lochter returned a short while later and collapsed next to Karl, his face pale and his posture slumped.
“Do you want another bottle?”
The woman approached, holding out the sa ominous brown potion. Both n violently shook their heads.
Shrugging, she turned her attention to Arthur, pried his mouth open, and uncorked the bottle. The sight alone was enough to make Karl and Lochter grimace.
Should they stop her?
But in the end, they didn’t. Arthur was in the worst shape of them all, groaning in pain even while unconscious.
The black-haired woman tilted the bottle like she was feeding a baby, pouring the potion into Arthur’s mouth.
The scene was unnerving, but sohow, her presence made it seem... normal.
“Who is she?” Karl nudged Lochter.
“No idea. Just that she saved us.”
“She’s not an enemy, then. Do you know her na?”
“She didn’t say. All I know is that she ca from the forest.”
“The forest? Is she half-elf or sothing? She’s not just pretty—she’s stunning.”
“Hmm...”
Lochter didn’t deny it.
The young woman was striking, with a mysterious charm that drew people in.
She also seed to be a skilled shaman.
“A shaman?”
Karl’s expression hardened slightly. In Blyer, shamans were almost exclusively under Kal’s control.
Lochter shook his head. “No need to worry. If she wanted to kill us, she would have done it already.”
“Fair enough.”
“She doesn’t seem to know anything about Tobaron, either. She’s not from this area.”
“Then how’d she get here? All the routes are blocked. Does she have so shaman’s thod?”
“Let’s talk about it later. For now, let’s rest.”
“Lochter, complaining about being tired? That’s rare.”
Karl chuckled, gathering wood to light a small fire in the clearing. As the flas flickered in the cool dawn air, he asked,
“Where are we, anyway?”
“Two hours downstream from the Korun River. We’ve been moving for half a day.”
“That far? Why?”
“She kept saying we needed to put more distance between us and Blyer. She only stopped when I was about to collapse, saying this spot was safe enough.”
“She carried you that far?”
Karl spread a mat on the ground for Lochter, who fell asleep the mont his head hit the ground.
It was less sleep and more losing consciousness.
“Man, he must’ve been exhausted.”
Karl smiled faintly, finding comfort in the sight of his companion trusting him enough to rest.
Deciding to gather more information, Karl approached the woman with his usual ease.
As he got closer, he noticed a small dog curled up at her feet. Its silky fur and perked ears made it undeniably cute.
“Cute dog you’ve got there,” Karl said.
“He’s a Cerberus breed. Touch him, and you’ll die.”
“Haha, a guard dog with a sense of humor, huh?”
“I called him to guard the house, but all he does is sleep.”
“Maybe it’s because he’s still young.”
“Hmm, you might be right. He is just a pup.”
“It’ll be hard to train sothing so adorable to guard your ho, though.”
“He’s effective enough. He’s eaten plenty already.”
“Bugs, I assu?”
“So bugs. Maybe so pests. I don’t really pay attention.”
“By the way, how old are you?”
“Why? You don’t like that I’m speaking informally?”
“No, it’s not that...”
“My grandmother said if you’re pretty, you can speak however you like.”
“Should I speak informally too, then?”
“No. You’re ugly.”
Ugly.
It was the first ti in his life Karl had ever been called that.
And outright ugly, at that.
Twice, no less.
Karl looked at her with a nervous expression.
She was, without a doubt, the toughest opponent he had ever faced in his forty years of life.
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