Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Lord Warrior (2)
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There were actually several reasons why I got hooked on DAT.
But if I had to pick just one, it was the boss execution scenes.
Whenever a boss monster died, they always showed a video of how it perished.
‘...I didn’t want to see it like this.’
Of course, that was back when I was just a player.
I was curious about how the monsters I killed died and vanished.
...But seeing it for real was a whole different story.
“...Grotesque.”
Celia had nailed it.
The clone’s body began tearing apart from electric currents wracking its entire form.
Perhaps in a desperate attempt to hold onto its shredded flesh and blood, it tangled with mana and started swirling in the air like a vortex.
It was a battle between the body trying to dissipate and the clone clinging to its own mana for survival.
“...!”
What was even more chilling was that her gaze never left Leggin.
― Your....
“What...?”
It was then.
Right before vanishing, the witch’s clone stared straight at Leggin and opened its mouth.
― Defeat....
“What the hell?”
What unsettled him most was that even in death, she was smiling.
― The Saint’s Sword....
“...What?”
― Was handed over to another....
“To who?”
― ...Lord.
Drip.
The clone’s flesh and blood rained down below.
Whoosh—
As it turned to smoke, Leggin murmured while watching.
“...Come to think of it, the Saint’s Sword is missing.”
He hadn’t even registered it during the fight with the clone.
Even if it had the Saint’s Sword, the boss wasn’t swinging it around.
But hearing her say it with that final smile snapped him to attention....
‘Wait. Did she say “Lord”?’
As Leggin pondered, a hypothesis flashed through his mind.
‘...Shit.’
A sinking feeling hit his heart like a drop. He turned to Celia.
“Celia.”
“Yeah.”
“...We need to help the others right now.”
He didn’t have much experience clearing this place when the Saint’s Sword was present.
That’s why he’d overlooked the possibility.
“From here on out... we’re fighting an Orc Lord wielding the Saint’s Sword.”
The witch’s clone was a ruthless monster that pulled no punches to win.
* * *
Killing the clone should have let them leave this place.
Even without mopping up the remnants, a red portal was supposed to open.
But there was one exception where the red portal wouldn’t appear.
‘When the Saint’s Sword is still inside.’
The portal stayed sealed until the sword was obtained.
‘...What?’
Honestly, he could hardly believe it.
He knew the clone was pretty intelligent.
...But to think it even knew about the Saint’s Sword?
‘So that’s why she had that look.’
In DAT, failing to take down the clone triggered lines like this.
[Don’t think it’s unfair. Victory is meant to be seized.]
He’d always thought it was well-crafted dialogue.
If the goal was to piss off players to no end, anyway.
From past experience, the clone in the Witch’s Garden was obsessed with victory.
Winning the fight against the player seemed to be its sole purpose.
“...Who would’ve thought it grasped the Saint’s Sword and handed it to the Orc Lord.”
That was when Leggin and Celia raced back to the center.
The fog was clearing, revealing the full battlefield.
“Leggin!”
“Did you get it?!”
Those locked in fierce combat spotted him and grinned.
The fog lifting and Leggin’s return meant the clone was down.
Just finish off the orcs here, and they were done.
Sizzle!
In response, Leggin tore a Shockwave Scroll.
The orc warrior in front of Greg exploded first, and the surrounding orcs fell in quick succession.
“Now it’s over.”
Greg burst into laughter.
Only Leggin and Celia stared ahead with grim expressions.
“One’s left.”
“One?”
“The Orc Lord... We have to deal with it.”
“...Now that you mention it, that thing hasn’t stopped charging. Doesn’t the clone’s death end it?”
“Normally, the orcs halt their advance when the fog clears....”
Boom—!
The massive footsteps of the Orc Lord grew closer.
It was visible just 100 meters away.
The Orc Lord, advancing from afar, hadn’t paused and had reached them.
“Orc Lords have the command to lead packs, plus the ability to make their own judgments.”
“...Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
“If it only came this far due to the clone’s magic, it might retreat.”
Leggin’s eyes fixed on its right hand.
“Looks like it made some deal with the clone.”
A lump of mana had taken the shape of a massive hammer, visible to all.
“The Saint’s Sword!”
“The Orc Lord has it?!”
“What happened? Wasn’t the clone holding it?!”
Amid the sudden uproar, Leggin answered.
“The witch’s clone is highly intelligent. And truth be told, the Orc Lord isn’t dumb either.”
“...So you’re saying they negotiated over the Saint’s Sword?”
“Probably.”
“Unbelievable... How could monsters...?”
“I can hardly believe it myself.”
Honestly, Leggin’s head was spinning too.
He knew she was smart from her taunting words during the approach, so that wasn’t surprising.
But dragging the Orc Lord into her plans for a new pattern he’d never seen? No way he’d predicted that.
‘Is this because both are so intelligent?’
Even racking his brain for DAT memories, he had almost no runs where the Saint’s Sword was on the 7th floor, so it was tough.
It wasn’t a common occurrence to begin with.
“...An Orc Lord’s attack power is on another level compared to regular green orcs.”
Boom—!
The Orc Lord drew nearer.
Leggin had to break some bad news.
“With the Saint’s Sword in hand, I can’t guarantee the frontline’s survival.”
Orc Lords were boss-tier for lower floors.
Tough enough in their fatigued state, but armed with the Saint’s Sword? Forget it.
“Don’t worry.”
Who answered Leggin was none other than Elsilva.
Crunch.
He plunged his sword into the ground.
Just like when they first met, when he’d stabbed it to distribute items.
“As I said before entering, my comrades are what matter most to me.”
“...”
“Earlier, even I nearly broke. The fog blinded me.”
“...”
“But thanks to you, Leggin, I see what’s truly important again. Now I’ll give everything to protect it.”
Elsilva, who’d always led the vanguard through countless battles, guarding the front.
He’d come here to shield those behind him, and even now, he had no intention of abandoning that conviction.
After nearly ignoring his comrades’ screams to the witch’s fog, his resolve had only hardened.
“So no one’s left behind. I’ll block every attack it throws.”
Morale soared inevitably.
Everyone gripped their weapons tighter, glaring at the Orc Lord.
Nine explorers steeled themselves for death to avoid it.
Whoosh—
The Orc Lord leaped into the air, and battle commenced.
* * *
“It’s airborne!!”
Over 3 meters tall, probably topping 400 kilos.
That hulking mass jumped over 50 meters in one bound.
Boom!!
Landing on both feet sent shockwaves rippling outward.
The orc horde charged alongside, launching their assault.
Kablooey!!
“Urgh!!”
Greg blocked the Orc Lord’s first strike.
He’d kept his axe close to minimize impact.
Whoosh—
But a single blow sent the ironclad Greg flying.
“...It’s wielding a hammer made from the Saint’s Sword. Everyone, evade at all costs!”
Leggin shouted urgently.
The Saint’s Sword bonded with the user’s mana to form an optimized weapon.
He hadn’t known Orc Lords could use it, but the hammer suited it perfectly.
‘We get hit, we die instantly.’
For Leggin, Manannan, and the archer, survival would be dicey.
“Path of the Wind!”
The archer squeezed out mana, buffing the whole party.
Wind clung to their bodies, quickening their movements.
Clang, clang!
Crunch!
Slash!!
Dodging each heavy hammer swing, everyone unleashed their best.
Celia and Greg targeted its legs relentlessly.
Elsilva and the gladiator drew its gaze, shielding the others.
Swish—
When chances arose, Bern lunged for its neck without hesitation.
“Ice!”
“Fireball!”
Leggin and Manannan burned their remaining mana for support.
Taking out the other orcs around the Orc Lord fell to them too.
― Fools.
Unlike the orcs’ incessant grunts, a intelligible voice came from the Orc Lord.
‘...Telepathy.’
Likely transmitting intent through mana.
Not something Orc Lords could normally do.
‘Because of the Saint’s Sword...?’
The witch clone’s lingering smile flashed by, stirring faint rage.
To leave behind something like this.
― Target the support first!!
Its roar hammered their ears.
A command to its minions, and instantly, their movements shifted.
They began hounding Leggin and Manannan relentlessly.
“Magic Shield!”
Manannan, who’d somehow mastered a magic shield, provided some defense.
“Ignore us—take down the Lord!”
Everyone nodded.
They could tank the small fry’s attacks.
The key was the Orc Lord.
Strike its head before their side took more damage.
“Aim for the Lord!”
The fight dragged on.
The Sacred Book’s effects had long faded, so no one knew exactly how long.
On that ground where the holy shield vanished, they withstood the incoming orcs and Lord’s assaults, countering.
― Grrr.
The Orc Lord was tiring too.
Every attack threatened, yet not one landed—its face twisted in frustration.
Sss—
Its foul mana converged in one spot.
All of it gathered in the hammer forged from the Saint’s Sword.
“...One-shot.”
Elsilva stared at the mana flow in astonishment.
“Can our shields block that attack!?”
He yelled desperately.
He sensed this one blow would differ from before.
“...I’ll try.”
Manannan gathered mana in his hands, but he didn’t look confident.
Even a shield from his remaining mana couldn’t match that hammer’s power.
‘If it’s the Orc Lord’s one-shot, it’s gotta be that massive swing.’
Leggin tossed a mana shield scroll to Elsilva, but without certainty.
The Orc Lord’s “Great Swing” one-shot was simple but devastating.
Dealing a whopping 300% of attack power in damage.
Vrrr—!!
The prepared Orc Lord’s eyes flashed as it swung.
No specific target.
Just sweeping forward—the mana bursting from the Saint’s Sword would ravage the field.
His party would take heavy hits from that alone.
Driven by instinct to sweep them all, the Orc Lord swung its hammer.
“...Leggin.”
Elsilva threw himself at the attack.
The reliable back his party had seen countless times.
Gazing unflinchingly ahead, Elsilva murmured softly.
“Please protect my comrades, more precious than my life.”
He launched without hesitation.
Before mana erupted from the hammer, he arrived in front.
With precise swordsmanship, he countered the mana.
What his blade couldn’t split, his body blocked instead.
Mana clashed with Elsilva, radiating light.
The double-layered mana shields shattered instantly, but Elsilva stood firm, absorbing all the damage.
‘...Lord Warrior.’
Watching the light from the clash and his silhouette, Leggin murmured.
Shields of the battlefield, banners leading soldiers, the first wave toward victory.
Leggin realized DAT’s description held no exaggeration.
Kablooey—!!!
With a deafening roar, Elsilva’s body burst apart. But everyone behind him emerged unscathed.
“...Pour it on!!”
Leggin and the party roared.
“Don’t let Elsilva’s sacrifice be in vain!!”
They honored their Lord, Elsilva, who’d led them this far.
Attacks fueled by every last drop of mana rained down on the Orc Lord.