Chapter 114
Chapter 114
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Duncan (3)
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Oliver was taken aback.
Completely caught off guard.
To encounter that sacred art again here—a technique he'd only brushed against once before.
And of all things, Holy Light, which dealt massive damage to black magic.
For a split second, Oliver wondered if he'd misheard, but the radiant light swallowing his surroundings, the struggling corpse puppet (Edwin Child) writhing in agony from it, the Hate Bullets dissipating like smoke, and his minions all confirmed this was no illusion—it was real.
Thanks to that, he managed to react in time and barely save his own skin.
"Die——!!"
Duncan bellowed in a beastly roar.
He swung his tonfa with all his might, smashing the corpse puppets to pieces before charging at Oliver and bringing it down again with full force.
Oliver instinctively raised his quarterstaff to block.
Clang———!!!
A thunderous crash sent Oliver flying sideways. As Duncan raised his tonfa to smash down again, Oliver activated Targeting and slipped away like he was on ice.
He glanced back, half-expecting Duncan to pursue, but the man just stood there, watching with the confidence of victory, making no move to chase.
Truly a stroke of luck that he'd escaped with his life.
"......"
"......"
Oliver staggered to his feet, covered in scrapes and dirt from being dragged across the ground.
Duncan twirled his tonfa—whoosh—whoosh—while eyeing him.
"What's with that staff? The black magic's dispelled, yet it withstood my tonfa. Some kind of item?"
Oliver glanced at his quarterstaff at the question.
It was odd, no doubt. His Black Suit had clearly been obliterated by the Holy Light, so under normal circumstances, the quarterstaff should've snapped like a twig.
Oliver shared the puzzlement, but unfortunately, he had more pressing curiosities.
"...How did you do that?"
"Ha! This?"
Duncan rarely cracked a smile as he held up a golden bracelet.
So that's where the strange aura was coming from.
"An item that lets you use sacred arts?"
"Yeah. The Lord is merciful—pay up, and He'll share His power as much as you want. Mahala... And stuff like this is possible too."
With that, Duncan pulled out a necklace.
A string of beads with a wooden cross dangling from it. As he gripped the cross, a dazzling golden light flared, enveloping his body.
His burns and wounds from the fight with Oliver began to heal—not quickly, but steadily. Oliver could only watch, helpless.
The situation was grim.
His stamina and emotions were badly depleted, and now his opponent was healing. But even before that, the sacred arts were the real problem.
The current disadvantage could be overcome by making full use of his emotions, but sacred arts... They were another beast entirely. He felt a sharp pang of Filterette withdrawal.
"What'll it be? Hand over the girl and join me now? I'll show mercy."
"Ah, sorry. It's a generous offer, but I'll pass. And the lady? I've already entrusted her to someone reliable—she'll be safe even if I die. So no worries there."
Duncan's face hardened into a scowl.
"Not afraid of dying?"
"Of course I am. But I don't like it, and a promise is a promise. Which is why I'm asking— even if you kill me, you won't find her. So why not let me go too?"
Oliver spoke with utter sincerity. Sincerity was supposed to win hearts, after all.
But Duncan took it the wrong way.
"You gave her to those beggar bastards?"
"......"
Oliver's eyebrow twitched. How'd he know?
As if reading his mind, Duncan explained.
"Heard you and the girl vanished, so I asked around at the police station and street gangs. Turns out the beggars have formed some big organization lately."
"......"
"Scurrying through sewers like rats, doing dirty work or eavesdropping and selling info... Your reaction confirms it."
"......"
"Don't know what connection led you to entrust her to them, but now I know who's got her—no need to worry... How about a promise?"
"I'll kill you, then wipe out every last one of those beggar scum. It's my specialty, so relax. Even the city would thank me for cleaning up the street rats."
"Uh... That's a bit brutal. There are actual people there too."
"People? Beggars aren't people."
At those words, Oliver fired a Hate Bullet straight at Duncan's head.
People's reactions slowed during speech, but Duncan parried it with his tonfa, his exceptional dynamic vision at work.
Not content, he slammed his other tonfa into the ground, flinging rock shards at Oliver. As Oliver dodged, Duncan closed in on that perfect opening.
This was a nightmare.
Superhuman physical prowess, lightning reflexes, and sacred arts that held absolute dominance.
It was like fighting a paladin. No clue how to handle it.
'But relying on items... There must be limits to their use.'
Oliver analyzed the situation, searching for a path to victory.
Dying here would be such a waste.
He mentally reviewed his remaining emotions and life force.
'Emotions are still plentiful. But life force is running low...'
His eyes fell on the fallen Pinkman corpses. He needed to conserve life force.
Oliver deployed Black Shield to block Duncan's attack.
It was a single layer, but unlike before, it didn't shatter. He'd narrowed the range and condensed it for higher defense.
Like compressing a wide curtain into a disc?
The reduced coverage was reinforced by reading emotions to predict attack vectors. Impressive at a glance, but insanely risky in practice.
One misread trajectory, and he was dead.
Duncan seemed to grasp this and laughed.
"You're insane!"
"Everyone says that about me. Can't say I get it."
Oliver blocked Duncan's relentless assaults while replying.
Duncan whirled his tonfas in a dazzling flurry—thrusting, spinning, smashing—from every angle without pause.
Fast, unpredictable, and each blow heavy enough that defending alone burned through a fair bit of emotion.
The wind pressure from swings was palpable; prolonged defense like this was far too dangerous.
So Oliver took the risk, infusing his quarterstaff with emotion and swinging.
'Hit him.'
Crack!
His perfect strike was parried by Duncan's tonfa.
Duncan grinned, raising his other tonfa to smash Oliver's quarterstaff with all his might, channeling mana into it to avenge his earlier humiliation.
Before the tonfa connected, Oliver detonated Wrath Boom between Duncan's arms.
Duncan, who'd focused mana solely on offense and left his guard down, groaned and let his arms droop slowly.
He even dropped one tonfa—the one he'd clung to so fiercely.
As Oliver reached for the fallen tonfa, Duncan kicked it away several yards.
It must've hurt like hell, leaving him gasping, but Oliver was grateful.
This was exactly the opening he'd hoped for.
Oliver focused his eyes intensely, scanning his surroundings as if time itself slowed.
Burned and bleeding from both arms, Duncan pulled out his necklace to heal.
In that instant, Oliver used Targeting to snatch the tonfa, dumped his last life force vial into the scattered Pinkman corpses to animate them, then poured a hefty dose of remaining emotion into granting them black magic.
Targeting just Duncan alone, he applied Object Hate to make them attack only him and Muscle Up to boost their strength.
Suddenly, Duncan was swarmed by over a dozen zombies.
Healing complete, Duncan didn't panic. He swung his remaining tonfa—whoosh! whoosh! whoosh!—and cleaved through the approaching horde.
Makes sense—a superhuman like him wouldn't see a dozen zombies as a threat worth Holy Light.
Then Oliver layered more black magic onto the zombies.
Blister, the spell he'd used at the villa.
With the incantation, purple blisters erupted on the broken and intact zombie flesh alike.
In that moment, Duncan sensed something was wrong.
'He fears disease even if swords and guns don't faze him.'
Learning this, Oliver unleashed another black magic.
The black magic that pierced even a druid's bark armor.
Even if that mana-infused armor withstood the explosion, Blister would leave him far from unscathed.
Duncan seemed to think the same and activated another item-based sacred art.
The radiant light engulfed the area, incinerating zombies and black magic alike.
Dazzling. As threatening as ever.
"You really..."
Right after Duncan's sacred art, Oliver poured out his remaining emotions and chanted.
Black light emotions tangled like mud, surging toward Duncan and morphing into a massive amorphous mass that swallowed him just as he finished his spell.
Like being dragged into hell.
Duncan panicked, blasting mana to push it away and trying to burn the Imprison with sacred arts.
Resistance was fierce, but the Imprison—fueled by all his emotions—clung tenaciously, refusing to vanish easily even if scorched.
"What the hell is this...!!"
Duncan shouted in confusion, but Imprison swallowed him again before he could finish.
His emotions swirled with chaos and fear, yet Oliver didn't let his guard down.
His current Imprison could only bind Duncan temporarily at best.
If Duncan kept resisting, Imprison would dissipate first—and Oliver would die.
In this razor-thin moment, he had to find a way to turn the tide.
'But how?'
Oliver pondered.
Even if the sacred-item had usage limits, he had no idea how many were left.
And he was out of emotions already.
'Pick up a rock and bash his head? Stab with the quarterstaff?'
Plain physical attacks crossed his mind, but they seemed futile.
As he agonized, Imprison was nearly depleted.
Unlike against magic, sacred arts accelerated its consumption—pathetic, really.
It had shrugged off stronger sacred arts against Joanna.
On a whim, Oliver tried extracting his own emotions.
Desperation might yield something, but nothing came.
'What's causing this?'
His gaze shifted to his last target: Duncan battling the half-shrunk Imprison.
'Gotta extract something, anything.'
Oliver raised his hands to the air.
Then extracted a massive haul of emotions and life force from Duncan.
Like against the mage before, he fed them into Imprison to bind him tighter.
Great for one-on-one—the opponent tired first.
One difference: Duncan's sacred arts let him break free faster.
Desperate, Oliver ramped up extraction.
"You late-autumn mosquito bastard...!!!"
Duncan roared in fury.
Ignoring him, Oliver cranked output higher.
'Not enough. More... More...! More...! Anything, more!'
In that instant, for the first time in his life, Oliver extracted something beyond emotions and life force.
Mana.