Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: I Am the Final Boss of This Zone
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Dominic, having breached the island gate, rampaged through the city, slaughtering those called "angels."
"Aaaagh!!"
"There's only one enemy! What the hell are you doing?!"
"Hey, hey. What are you doing against some fourth-rank nobody? It's embarrassing. You guys handle th... Gahk!"
In the midst of it, Dominic's sword pierced the throat of a burly man with a thick beard.
A vital spot that would kill any superhuman of sixth rank or lower in one strike.
But the bearded man wasn't done. He bared his yellowed teeth through the blood and grabbed the sword.
"Grrr."
Foam bubbling from his mouth, the giant hefted a massive butcher's cleaver.
Dominic released the sword caught in the giant's hand and dodged.
Boom!
The giant's kitchen knife slammed into the spot where he'd stood.
Gems adorning the giant's body flew off in all directions from the impact.
"Tough one, aren't you."
"Kahk. Tough? You'd better not think I'm the same as those idiots."
The bearded giant yanked the sword from his throat and spat out a glob of bloody phlegm.
He wiped the blood from his beard and flashed a cool grin, yellow teeth gleaming.
"This body is one of Lord Kubel's Four Heavenly Kings, Band..."
Stab!
Dominic's other sword sliced into the yellow-toothed giant's inner thigh.
"You bastard!"
"This isn't a spar. We're at war."
The old butler had no intention of exchanging names in the middle of battle—unlike some duel between generals that might decide morale.
The giant's femoral artery regenerated instantly, and he drew a skewer.
Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew each time his skewer and cleaver clashed.
"Good. From your style, you must be the one who killed Camilla. But she was the weakest among us..."
Thwack!
Dominic's spear pierced through the giant's open mouth and out his neck.
The giant wasn't helpless, though.
His hook on his left hand tore a chunk from Dominic's side.
But that was the end of his exploits.
"Hup!"
Dominic thrust his weight into the spear, nailing the giant like a spike.
The giant convulsed once, then his arms dropped limply.
"Hm."
Having felled one of the Four Heavenly Kings, Dominic pressed a hand to his blood-soaked side.
"Hoo."
He took a deep breath to steady the pain, then the old butler pressed on.
He still had much to do.
While the old butler tore through the city, Jane's detachment searched for the captured hostages.
The Vinka family was confined in the lord's mansion, normally guarded by at least one of the Four Heavenly Kings and soldiers.
But now, with Kubel and his kings drawn to Dominic, it was the perfect time to rescue them.
Just before the knights and Jane entered the mansion, one knight pointed toward the city square.
"Lady Jane! Sir Dominic!"
Jane and the knights looked toward the square with enhanced vision.
An old man in a white shirt stained red was panting heavily as he butchered angels in the square.
Broken arrow shafts and lodged daggers hinted at the battles he'd endured.
"We must help him now..."
Jane stopped the knight stepping forward to aid Dominic.
"Wait. Our goal is rescuing the hostages."
"But Sir Dominic..."
"He'd want that too."
"..."
The knight fell silent at Jane's sorrowful expression.
Truth be told, no one here felt the pain more than Jane.
"Sorry."
"Looks like Sir Dominic took down a second Heavenly King too. The other one's with him as well. We secure the hostages' safety first, then support if we can."
From the hairpin lodged in Dominic's shoulder, it seemed he'd felled the queen of the red-light district too.
The knights obeyed Jane without further argument.
Nothing was more dangerous than an incompetent commander—except disobeying orders.
They knew this well, so they set aside personal feelings and headed for the mansion.
Upon entering, the knights swiftly rescued the hostages.
"Found the Vinka family!"
"They didn't give you water until dehydration set in?"
"Drink slowly. You're safe with us."
"Bald... Where is Lord Bald?"
Bald's eldest son—father of the girl who'd made a promise with Jane—weakly pointed to the bookshelf.
Recognizing it as a secret door, Jane smashed the shelf.
"As expected."
A hidden room beyond the bookshelf.
Inside, a white-masked priest held an exhausted old woman hostage.
"Don't co..."
Flash!
Before the priest could finish, Jane unleashed a flash from her light spirit.
The priest tried to slit the old woman's throat for company, even if it was Bald, but the sword wouldn't budge.
When his vision cleared, he saw Jane's green cloak gripping the blade.
Thwack!
A hand axe embedded in the stiffened priest's forehead.
Like the other thugs in the city—no, faster—the priest's wound regenerated.
But in that moment, a shadow knight rescued Bald from the priest's arms.
The priest trembled, axe in his skull.
"He... Her... Heretics...!"
The priest gathered mana at his fingertips and pointed at the group.
Slash!
But Jane's sword severed his wrist first.
Only then did the priest grasp his situation and stagger back.
"Wait! I'm from the Holy Kingdom..."
"Don't care."
Jane's sword pierced the priest's throat.
The white mask clattered to the ground.
Their eyes met—his filled with shock and incomprehension.
Jane knew those eyes.
The black dragon's eyes just before Dominic killed it.
Did she look like that to this priest?
If so, perfect.
Jane bowed coldly to the priest with sunken eyes.
"Well then, priest of the Holy Kingdom."
How many times do I have to kill you before you die?
The girl who'd chased someone's back now wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder.
While Jane killed the priest over and over until he stayed dead.
Dominic, who had piled mountains of undying corpses, pursued one of the Four Heavenly Kings.
"Hahk... Huhk... Mercy..."
"Did you show mercy to those who begged you?"
Ignoring her pleas, Dominic chased her down.
After a long pursuit, his sword cornered the queen of the red-light district against a wall and took her head.
"Lord... Ku... bel..."
Her pitiful last words echoed as her head rolled across the ground.
Boom!
The wall crumbled in the process of claiming her life.
The other side was an outdoor theater stage.
"I've ended up here, have I."
Dominic stepped onto the stage through the collapsed wall to escape.
At that moment, spotlights focused on him as if waiting.
Naturally, Dominic's gaze turned to the VIP seats in the outdoor theater.
"Long time no see, Dominic."
A young man in the VIP seats admired Dominic, backdropped by the burning city and piles of bug- and tentacle-ridden corpses.
Kubel Karognar.
"Kubel. Once a foolish youth captured... That about right?"
Dominic responded in kind to match the mood.
Of course, he didn't actually remember Kubel; he was just guessing.
But Kubel couldn't hide his excitement at being recognized.
"Yes! You remember me? Of course you do! You must! So, how does it feel? Seeing the one you took everything from return from the underworld—what are your thoughts?"
"Feels like looking at a corner I didn't clean properly. Embarrassing."
"Huhu. That's karma."
The count shouted, face flushed.
Anti and fan weren't so different, after all.
Kubel's red eyes scanned Dominic's body.
Side flesh torn, back pierced by an arrow, thigh run through by a hairpin.
But in Kubel's eyes, it wasn't an old man—but a knight's soul.
The only commonality: both soul and body bore wounds that should have felled him, yet he stood with resolute eyes.
Kubel clapped mockingly at the tottering knight.
"Duke... No, Dominic now? So how did our noble knight end up like this? Quite the spectacle, no?"
Right, men!
The audience in the outdoor seats—Kubel's subordinates—burst into laughter.
Dominic merely cast them a cold glance.
"So you're going to take us all on in that state, Sir Knight?"
"Nothing impossible about it. More the merrier on the road, right?"
"Shame I can't join you then."
"No need to worry about that."
Dominic glanced at his personal minimap.
In sync, a rescue signal arrived via telepathy to Kubel.
From the lord's mansion priest.
[Send reinforcements now...!]
That short message drew Kubel's eyes.
With the priest—who'd blessed them as angels and promised the next phase—dead, even escaping the city meant no future.
"What..."
Dominic seized the brief opening.
While Kubel's gaze shifted, he hurled daggers at lights for darkness and charged Kubel.
"Block him!"
A few archers and mages reacted late to the old man's assault, but he didn't just deflect—he dodged effortlessly and reached Kubel.
Kubel thrust his spear.
Dominic yielded his shoulder to it and took Kubel's heart and throat.
"Even dragons can't handle this."
No reply from Kubel.
His surrounding subordinates reacted instead.
"Lord Kubel?"
"Hey, what do we do now?"
In the midst of the murmuring remnants, Dominic staggered.
The blood lost getting here was bad enough, but the hole from Kubel's spear was worse.
Dominic looked to the sky and took a deep breath.
Chest rising and falling, the old butler snapped his hazy mind with a shout.
"Huuu... Haaaah!!"
The old man yanked out Kubel's spear with a roar unbelievable for one dying.
With indomitable spirit, he swung the spear once.
As if fueled by life force, it whipped up a gale.
"It's been ages since I bled like this."
Discarding pretense, the old man crossed spear and sword, addressing his encircled foes.
"Come on, then. Even in this state, I have strength left to take one or two companions before I go. Who claims this old butler's heart and ascends with me?"
Boom!
Spotlights crashed on cue, igniting the stage.
In the acrid smoke and flames, the old butler's golden eyes flashed.
The answer came from the audience.
"Then I'll take your arm and complete my vengeance."
Dominic's gaze turned to the theater entrance.
A one-armed knight appeared, who had vanished from the walls.
'Not one-armed anymore?'
Up close, it wasn't.
He'd acquired a prosthetic somewhere after leaving the walls.
An unsettling one.
Countless left arms bundled like muscle fibers into a massive limb.
Riiip—Boom!
Each twitch crushed flesh with a sound, shaking the earth.
"Seeing you changed my mind. These arms are cumbersome. Time to discard them and take yours."
"Isn't copying a sword arm just superstition?"
"My magic makes it possible."
"Back from the underworld, and all you brought were weird powers. Sneaky too."
"Isn't that how superhumans survive?"
Claim the sweetest fruit from comrades' sacrifices.
The natural law of the superhuman world.
Kubel overlooked it; the ragged-arm knight followed it faithfully.
"Come to think of it, I never told you my name. I'm Cyril. Let's old second-in-commands catch up!"
Time passed since Cyril and Dominic's fight began.
The matchup was the worst.
Dominic's sword excelled against humans but was limited against vastly larger foes.
In that sense, Cyril's massive, snake-like writhing left arm was Dominic's ultimate counter.
Clang!
Steel-hard arm clashed with spear, ringing metal.
Dominic retreated, drawing a musket from his coat and aiming at Cyril's brow.
Cyril didn't swing—instead, he whipped his body with his left arm to dodge.
It was as if the left arm was Cyril's true body.
Easily evading, Cyril looked utterly relaxed.
And why not? Anyone could see Dominic's time was short.
Time favored Cyril.
"You look exhausted, Sir Knight? How's it feel with death breathing down your neck?"
Dominic pointed spear and sword tips at the ground, replying like a murmur.
"This feeling's been a while too. How long since I fled death on the battlefield, reflecting on life."
Dominic's eyes met Cyril's.
Glanced once at the mansion where Jane was,
"Back then, I fought to survive fear of death. Facing it squarely isn't bad either."
"Getting sentimental as death nears?"
"Maybe. But then and now are different."
The old butler raised spear and sword again.
"Entrusting dreams to someone, staking everything in battle. Didn't know it felt this good. Ah... Only now I realize."
The old butler gazed skyward, wistful.
"You'll never know this feeling."
Grit.
Cyril bit his lower lip, unable to shake defeatism.
"Fine! Die lost in fantasy, old man!"
Cyril swung his arm.
The massive left arm of intertwined limbs bristled with embedded swords and axes like a giant cactus.
Dominic dodged twice before being cornered against the wall.
"You've gotten slower."
"I'm different now too!"
Cyril's left arm shot toward Dominic.
Dominic never took his eyes from the oncoming cactus-mass.
Just before it crushed him, Dominic mounted the arm.
"Useless!"
Arms sprouted to grab his ankle.
But Dominic surfed the blade and spear faces like cactus spines, launching at Cyril.
"Impossible..."
Slash.
Dominic's form passed through Cyril.
Drained by the strike, Dominic's body pitched forward, unable to withstand momentum.
Then Cyril's left arm detached from his body.
Black blood fountained from the stump as Cyril glared at the old butler, binding it.
"Should've aimed for the neck."
"Told you... Dreams... entrusted..."
As Dominic spoke from the ground, a silhouette dropped from the sky.
Boom!
Jane from above cleaved Cyril in half.
Dispatching Cyril in an instant, Jane then cut down the remnants creeping toward Dominic.
Not brute-forcing with spirit possession like before, but dazzling swordplay exploiting the environment.
The dream-heir girl recreated the old man's majesty with her blade.
No overwhelming pressure like Dominic, but fairy-like grace aplenty.
Dominic smiled watching Jane's rampage.
"Yes... That's... good enough."
Dominic gently closed his eyes.
By the time Jane finished and returned, the old man rested with a peaceful smile, eyes shut.
"You saw it, right?"
Jane recovered Dominic's serene corpse.
And that day, the historian recorded the event thus:
Kubel's Rebellion spread across the continent.
Normally, a single lord's revolt wouldn't ripple the continent.
But this was different.
The first rebellion in the newborn Providence Kingdom drew all eyes.
Most rulers' sentiments: mildly interesting.
A fourth-rank superhuman's cunning feat of greatness,
And the birth of a new fairy knight seen as rightful heir to that will.
Feast icebreaker fodder.
But one took more than passing interest:
"They stuck a weapon in the citadel and toppled it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Hm..."
A long-haired gentleman with a monocle and goat horns drummed the throne's armrest.
No one could read his slit-eyed thoughts.
He drummed, scratched his chin, crumpled the report, and popped it in his mouth.
"Chew chew. Tell Intelligence to delete all records of this."
"Pardon?"
"Personal promise. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
No further questions.
The masked reporter turned to leave.
Then the squinter raised a finger as if remembering.
"Right. Before you go."
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Do the others know?"
"We suspect... they do."
"I see..."
The squinter nodded.
"Been a while since we gathered."
"The envoys?"
"Fast ones, up to 11. Incentive: 10 platinum coins."
"Yes, sir!"
The masked man saluted sharply and hurried out.
Alone, the squinter crossed his legs, poured wine into an empty glass.
"Like Opfir's disciple? Hm... Doesn't seem the type to take one."
Rubbing his chin raw, he wet his lips with wine and gazed out the window.
"First, gotta ask that religious punk what the hell happened."