Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: It Was Always the Final Boss That Blocked the Hero
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What’s the most important element in a boss fight?
A pig-like health bar that can tank hits?
Overwhelming power where every strike is a threat?
Special abilities that are unfair by their very nature?
I’d like to say they’re all correct.
But at the same time, I think they’re all wrong.
The virtue I value most in a boss is rationality.
A rationality that instills despair with overwhelming majesty but can be toppled if you figure it out.
Even a health bar that embodies despair should dwindle if you keep hitting it.
Attacks that make your head spin if they land should become avoidable once you learn the patterns and timing.
And unfair special abilities need exploitable mechanics if countered properly.
That’s why I faced the hero’s party under this principle.
“They’re charging energy! Duck!”
As I pulled my sword back and gathered qi, the hero’s party—who’d seen it once before—ducked their heads.
Whoosh!
My greatsword cleaved the air, unleashing a slash of sword qi.
The sword qi left deep gashes on the fortress walls behind them.
The baron’s expression upon seeing the scars was just as I’d hoped.
His sweat-soaked hair spoke volumes of his feelings.
After unleashing such a massive attack, it was the hero’s turn.
“This is revenge for Fria!”
The hero swung his sword, veins bulging in his eyes.
Fria was probably the tanker from his party who’d stepped up with her shield to block my first charged attack.
Naturally, she couldn’t block it, and her upper body was neatly bisected.
I hadn’t realized she was a woman under the helmet.
Judging by how desperately the hero called her name like a lover, they must have been close.
But her sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
Now, whenever I wound up a charged attack, they focused on dodging instead of blocking. Hadn’t she given the hero a valuable lesson before departing?
With such thoughts, I silently withstood the hero’s attack.
Of course, unlike in a game, this was reality, so I didn’t take wounds—instead, my protective barrier took the hits in place of my health.
“Hmph.”
The attack came in three strikes over two seconds.
Now it was my turn.
Following the subtleties of the Triad Swordsmanship, I swung my greatsword three times.
Horizontal slash, vertical slash, thrust.
As a bonus, I slipped in Iron Mountain Cry right before the thrust to shatter their guard.
The first time I showed this attack, the party’s swordswoman—a samurai woman—got pierced through the chest and died.
She’d parried the horizontal and vertical slashes fine, but she hadn’t anticipated the unblockable thrust that disrupted her stance with Iron Mountain Cry.
The hero learned from that too, and now he rolled to dodge the final strike.
They called it the naraka tumble in martial arts tales?
Embarrassing evasion, but it was the right answer.
Showboating on the battlefield gets you killed like that samurai woman.
Afterward, the hero and his party members dodged my attacks with rolls or jumps, squeezing in strikes during openings.
Before long, they were caked in mud like they’d been mud-wrestling.
Thanks to the two sacrifices, they seemed to have memorized all my prepared patterns, and the battle dragged on somehow.
Then, the hero’s party archer made a mistake.
As punishment, her right arm was severed.
I didn’t kill her instantly because it was during a regular attack pattern.
For non-special patterns like Iron Mountain Cry-thrust or charge-ups, I’d just lop off a limb.
The healer would then reattach the severed limb, but factoring those in, their strategy guide might as well have been written in blood.
Then, the healer shouted.
“Holy power’s almost gone, Hero!”
Oh dear. Should’ve managed your mana better during the raid.
Poor thing, but no compromises.
They were a hero’s party, not protagonists.
Even if they died, it wouldn’t disrupt my narrative.
Replacements for heroes had overflowed since the Empire days.
‘Don’t blame me.’
Heroes had massacred subhumans like players leveling up in a game.
So they had no room to complain about player-level treatment.
If they wanted mercy, they should’ve become story protagonists, not players.
With that thought, I ruthlessly slashed the healer who’d neglected patterns to heal the archer.
Once she became healer paste, despair settled over the party.
“Haha...”
The archer, whose arm was only half-healed, let out a hollow laugh and dropped her bow.
“Don’t give up!”
The red-haired hero charged with hot-blooded fervor matching his looks.
And as if awakening like a protagonist, the hero’s rank rose right on cue.
With his rank up, his power grew.
Enough to parry what had been an instant-kill thrust.
“See? This is the power of bonds!”
The hero shouted triumphantly.
Watching him yell like a classic fantasy hero...
‘Sigh... This is why I hate heroes.’
I barely suppressed my sigh.
Heroes don’t lose.
Even if they suffer the pain of losing comrades, they rise until the end to defeat evil.
The red-haired hero truly believed that.
That’s why he chose to be a hero over a lord, slaying countless evil beasts, demons, and subhumans.
And he had no doubt he’d do so this time too.
He, the hero, would defeat Duke, the knight of the wicked Providence territory who oppressed humans and favored subhumans.
Stepping over that knight’s corpse, he’d wipe the evil territory from the map, and the red-haired hero Gis’s name would spread across the kingdom.
Proof: In this desperate moment, the hero’s rank had risen.
As if the heavens themselves cheered him on.
- Hero!
- Hero.
- Gis!
It was as if his comrades pushed his back.
The hero gripped his sword two-handed and parried Duke’s attack.
Clang!
Using the parry he’d learned from the samurai,
“Hup!”
Blocking with knightly defense,
“This ends it!”
Imbuing his sword with holy power from the priest, he finally shattered Duke’s barrier.
The sword grazed Duke’s chest by a hair.
‘Tch. Too shallow.’
His critical strike only tore the uniform.
But the hero didn’t lose hope.
The invincible barrier was broken now, so all that remained was...
That’s when it happened.
Thick killing intent rose from Duke.
The hero taunted him based on his reaction.
“Acting all relaxed before, but now that I’ve caught up, you’re getting anxious?”
But Duke didn’t answer.
He just silently looked down at the red flower ornament fallen at his feet.
Head bowed, he carefully picked it up with his hand.
“Who dares tread into the flower field with military boots.”
“?”
Duke raised his head.
Facing the crimson glare flashing through his helmet—darker than blood—the hero gulped.
Mana began flowing along Duke’s sword.
The hero and remaining comrades’ minds flashed with worst-case scenarios.
‘No way... until now...’
‘He hadn’t been using sword aura?’
Affirming their guesses, a blood-red aura cloaked his blade.
Screams seemed to emanate from the sword.
The horrific screams of those reaped by it.
Hallucination? Illusion? Am I going mad?
The screams rang in their heads like music.
Duke, wielding the blood-red sword, tied the fallen ornament carefully to his greatsword’s hilt before continuing.
“Enough pretending to be humble. I am Duke, knight of this land.”
Right after his line, Duke kicked off the ground.
The party, who’d only seen him walk slowly until now, hadn’t imagined such speed—they couldn’t react and took the attack.
Bloody red afterimages trailed his path.
The hero’s comrades turned to puddles of blood, and the hero was grabbed by the collar in Duke’s left hand.
Duke hurled the hero into the air and impaled him on his sword.
He tossed the gutted hero aside like trash.
The hero’s eyes closed.
‘No, I can’t die like this...’
In his fading consciousness, the hero’s last sound was Duke’s voice.
“You’ll eternally remember why these flowers are red.”
‘Tch. Those punks have no romance.’
Even so, touching the flower ornament crossed the line.
Phase 2 wasn’t meant to be unfair.
The boss I aimed for was a standard raid boss, not one from a genre where you die endlessly, respawn, and the player—not the character—grows stronger.
But they touched the ornament, so I changed my mind.
If you act like that, I become the thug from then on.
Don’t like it? Set up a campfire and retry.
I turned from the heroes’ corpses and approached Remesis, whom I’d covered with my cloak.
“Rise.”
“...”
“I know you’re not dead.”
“Hoo... Sorry. No thanks to overtime. But why are you here?”
“You spotted the hero, so Rex sent me.”
“...Weren’t you in the capital?”
“Mm.”
“It’s been an hour since the report?”
“Mm.”
Remesis recalled the distance from here to the capital.
A two-week journey on foot.
And he’d come in an hour?
Remesis was briefly stunned but remembered this human was one of the thirteen who sliced imperial fortresses like tofu. It made sense.
“So what did Rex say?”
“Now that a hero’s appeared, provocations are no longer just provocations.”
Heroes were infamous mass murderers among subhumans.
Slave hunters kidnapped and sold one or two; heroes were walking disasters torching entire villages.
They’d even burn humans protecting subhumans as witches.
Hero affiliates included the Holy Kingdom’s inquisitors and the international crime group Humanity Preservation Brigade.
Moreover, a hero’s involvement carried another meaning.
“Rex judges the royal family behind this war.”
Heroes were royal soldiers.
They wandered causing chaos wherever, but fundamentally royal-affiliated, targeting only royal enemies.
In other words, the royals had already branded Providence territory as evil to the heroes.
“More heroes might come.”
“Then our margraviate...”
“From this moment, we’re enemies with all nobles. Except Sneria territory, assume every territory hostile.”
Duke said it like he was hearing it first, though he knew from original knowledge.
Remesis had one question from his explanation.
“Why our territory specifically?”
I pondered briefly.
I knew, but was it okay to spoil?
Pondering was short.
Share partial truth based on revealed info.
“My guess: Because of an old man named Peter who stayed in our territory’s mountains.”
“The swordsman Rex and the captain went looking for.”
“Yes. He’s one of the last imperial bloodlines. Collateral, but it undermines the kingdom’s legitimacy.”
Emphasize again: Post-empire kingdoms lack legitimacy.
Reason? Complicated, but they just piggybacked on someone else’s conquest.
Excluding Reverse Heavenly Stars, the royal legitimacy was shaky.
A bastard imperial could dethrone them.
Another reason: Fear of imperial blood reviving the empire someday.
Past emperors were so warlike.
‘Come to think, there’s a related prophecy too, I think.’
But I don’t believe in prophecies, so forgot details.
Fate’s made by my hands; prophecies are useless.
Anyway, point: All because of old man Peter.
The two territories vied for him in the mountains between Sneria and Providence, so royals turned hostile.
“Hm... Feels incomplete, but nothing else explains it now.”
Remesis was sharp enough to notice imperfections but lacked info to dig deeper.
Or maybe just uninterested.
Natural bureaucrat, not one to pry excessively.
Remesis lit a cigarette, changing topics.
“Anyway, thank you, Captain.”
“You’re my retainer. No need for thanks; it’s expected.”
“And thank you.”
“?”
“No need to avenge so brutally.”
Ah, that.
She thought I toyed with them for her revenge?
Intent wrong, but toying true, so no denial.
But for character, a reminder.
“As a knight...”
“Yes. Won’t dishonor foes. Pretend I saw nothing.”
Remesis smirked at the former hero party.
“Now that we’ve slain heroes, are we the Demon King’s army?”
“Hypocrites abounded since Empire days. Those opposing them were always called evil.”
“Then being villains isn’t bad.”
“Mm.”
Opposing such and pursuing Demon King? Not bad.
Duke and Remesis finished talking and eyed the baron’s fortress.
“No home to return to now. We become a kingdom or rebels.”
“Success is revolution, failure rebellion, right?”
Hey, soldier, isn’t that dangerous talk?
I spoke before smirking Remesis.
“Just follow my back. I’ll carve the path of hegemony.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Soon, the Honor Guard Remesis had hidden approached, saluting crisply behind us.
““Understood!””
“Sound the trumpet for march. The Providence royal line begins.”
“By the way, Captain.”
“Mm?”
“You arrived just in the nick of time. Nearly got purified. You weren’t secretly watching, were you?”
“...”
“Kidding. Don’t look so sour.”
Remesis clucked her tongue, cigarette in mouth.
Meanwhile, Duke poured cold sweat like a waterfall inside his helmet.
‘Phew. How’d she know?’
Meanwhile, Rex was...
“Duke! What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Yelling at an innocent system window.
“Royal family?! No! No way!”
Of course, he knew hostility to royals was inevitable for survival.
Knew they’d have to wage conquest against the kingdom now.
But Rex’s plan was to plop a decent royal prince or duke on the throne after it all.
Obviously to avoid kingdom-scale responsibility.
But Rex’s desperate cries didn’t reach Duke.
“Hehe... Guess I’ll study royal etiquette early.”
Even Ari wasn’t on his side.
“Aaaargh!”
Rex tore at his hair.
The tale of Providence royalty’s success—never once wished for—began.