Chapter 292
Chapter 292
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 292
Chapter Title: After the Fight Ends (1)
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"Gaaahhh!!"
Duncan, clad in his black suit and black armor, clashed against Shamus in midair.
Shamus clenched his fist once more and swung his arm, but Duncan—protected by his black magic armor—smoothly deflected the attack using his tonfa as a shield.
A shockwave burst futilely in the empty air.
Shamus's eyes widened in shock.
Deflecting force required a solid foundation of power to back it up.
Yet his attack had been blocked by what was essentially a mere corpse puppet. The realization hit him hard.
Oliver was just as stunned.
He knew Duncan was skilled, but the sheer magnitude of Shamus's power was on another level entirely.
'To the point where techniques shouldn't even work.'
And yet, they were working.
Thanks to the black suit and armor Oliver had fitted him with, along with the meat tonfa Ewan had crafted. Their performance exceeded all expectations.
"Gaaahhh!!"
Duncan roared again and kicked out at Shamus with his foot.
Shamus's leap faltered, his momentum shattered, sending him plummeting. Duncan, on the other hand, used gravity as propulsion to charge straight at him.
The situation had reversed completely from moments ago.
Shamus whipped the beanstalk like a lash, trying to wrap it around the wooden giant's body, but Duncan—now closing in—swung his tonfa and severed the vine with ease.
"You bastard...!"
Enraged, Shamus swung a fist at the approaching Duncan.
Despite his formidable physical prowess, his unstable footing made the strike clumsy. Duncan blocked it effortlessly and counterattacked.
Gripping the tonfa, he thrust with his fist, then yanked his arm to whip it like a lash. He swiftly switched grips to chop like an axe, hooked Shamus's arm like a grappling tool, and pulled.
"......!!!"
As Shamus's guard crumbled under the tonfa barrage, terror began to flicker in his chest. Seizing the opening, Duncan straightened his opposite tonfa and drove it into Shamus's chest with all his might.
The blow landed true, and the two plummeted toward the forest floor.
Boom—!!
Rumble...!! Roooaaarrr...!! Thud!! Boom!! Craaaash—!!
Unable to withstand the impact, Shamus's wooden giant slowly crumbled.
The trunks, roots, soil, and grass that had formed its bones and flesh lost their power and slid downward. The aftermath kicked up a massive cloud of dust that blanketed the entire forest.
"......If it's not too much trouble, could you set me down over there?"
As the dust began to settle, Oliver pointed to a specific spot and made his request.
It was where Duncan and Shamus had fallen—the heart of the forest, where two strange auras emanated.
The wooden giant nodded a beat late in response to Oliver's plea, then knelt on one knee and carefully extended its hand toward him.
Oliver climbed onto the palm and descended slowly to the ground.
Thud.
"Thank you. And good work."
Oliver stepped down from the giant's hand with gratitude. The giant nodded slowly before reverting to its natural state amid the trees.
Thick dust hung in the air.
Looking around revealed several sights.
First, a colossal World Tree surrounded by mechanical devices and logs crafted from its wood.
Second, an altar piled high with countless corpses. It looked far from ordinary.
But what drew the eye most was Shamus, a gaping hole in his chest, surrounded by the bodies of several druids scattered nearby.
While most druids had fled upon seeing Shamus's defeat, this handful had charged at Duncan in a desperate bid to save him.
Though they'd exhausted their strength supporting Shamus and fallen to Duncan, it seemed not all his subordinates followed him solely for power and money, contrary to common rumors.
Oliver wasn't well-versed in such matters, but staking one's life on a lost cause demanded more than wealth or might.
"Hmm......."
Oliver stepped past the druid corpses and gazed down at Shamus, who was dying with a hole in his chest. He let out a low groan.
The wound was fatal, and with his strength depleted, recovery seemed impossible.
Yet Shamus didn't succumb to mere fear or despair.
Pain and impending death painted his emotions in negativity, but amid it shone an unyielding sense of purpose and will.
It was truly beautiful.
"Guh...! Hack...! Why...? Why now...? Why?"
Dying, Shamus reached toward Oliver, his hand glowing with bewilderment and resentment.
Was it a plea for help or an attempt to throttle him? The gesture was ambiguous.
Oliver watched silently for a moment, then extended his own hand to Shamus's chest and extracted the emotions.
Shoooo...
Blood poured from the hole in his chest, along with Shamus's final emotions. Oliver gathered them in his palm and sealed them into an empty vial.
Once the extraction finished, Shamus's breath stopped. Oliver surveyed the surroundings, sensing the battle had truly ended.
The remaining druids were either dead or fleeing far away.
'Hmm...'
Oliver pondered briefly whether to pursue the fleeing druids.
In the end, he decided against it.
He was a bit tired, and his emotions were nearly spent... Besides, the anti-Shamus coalition had the forest surrounded. They'd handle it.
'More importantly, that's bothering me...'
Oliver thought as he eyed the World Tree connected to numerous mechanical devices.
This one, being the forest's own, dwarfed the one in Landa. An alien yet immense energy pulsed from within.
'Feels familiar somehow... And that too.'
His gaze shifted to the altar of stacked corpses.
What was what? Everything was baffling.
Oliver mulled it over, then decided to shelve the unknowns and check what he could right now. He approached the World Tree.
As if sensing his presence, the entity inside thrashed more violently the closer he got.
Emitting confusion, anger, joy, and more.
Oliver pulled a vial of emotions and mana from his pocket, extracted them, and held them in both hands.
Then he slowly pressed them against the World Tree.
Not long after the battle between Shamus and Oliver concluded, the wooden pillars encircling the forest heart began toppling one by one. Armed forces poured through the gaps.
The City Security Bureau, official overseers of this mission; Pinkman, hired by the Sisterhood; Crime Firm executive's direct troops; Fighter Crew, and more.
They combed through the battle-ravaged forest interior, eventually spotting Oliver seated at the center.
"You've arrived?"
Oliver, who had been resting, stood and greeted them as casually as ever.
As if nothing had happened.
Unlike him, however, these elite forces from Landa—renowned for their might—tensed up and hesitated to respond.
They'd all witnessed the chaos from beyond the wooden walls.
Shamus had unleashed catastrophic spells summoning natural disasters and giants. Oliver had shattered them head-on with even more horrifying black magic.
How could they not be on edge?
Those who lived by violence knew its terror all too well.
Then, the one man among them who sustained his livelihood with a pen rather than fists stepped forward to reply.
"Yes, we're here."
Parting the armed ranks was none other than City official Paul Carver.
He too had watched Oliver's feats in shock and awe, tinged with fear. Yet duty came first; he faced Oliver with feigned calm, drawing on his sense of responsibility.
Landa really is full of remarkable people.
'No joke.'
Carver said,
"Mr. Dave... Are you alright?"
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't fight Shamus, did you? We saw from beyond the walls. Are you injured?"
At that, Oliver glanced at the wooden rampart Shamus had made and understood.
"Ah... Yes, I'm fine."
His usual tone drew fresh surprise from the crowd.
To emerge unscathed from a clash like a natural calamity—and maintain his composure? It was astounding on every level.
"Did you take down Shamus?"
"Yes."
"Where is he, then?"
Oliver pointed to the leather case at his waist. More precisely, to the Big Mouth inside it.
"I have him here. Along with the bodies of a few other druids."
"Bodies?"
"Yes, they're dead... Is there a problem?"
"Well... Honestly, Shamus dying isn't an issue. But we need to recover the ABC funds he embezzled. Alive would be ideal—or at least some other druids."
"Ah... Sorry. It's complicated to explain, but the others either fled or the corpse puppet killed them. Still—"
"—It's fine."
Mages emerged from the armed ranks this time.
Albert and the other Moirai School mages.
"Our investigation confirmed a massive trove of druid data stored here. If we access the World Tree log now, we can trace where Shamus stashed the funds—"
"—Um..."
Mid-sentence, Oliver timidly raised a hand and interjected.
The middle-aged Moirai mage flashed irritation at the interruption but, recalling Oliver's earlier display, kept his composure and responded politely.
"Yes?"
"Sorry for cutting in. But I think this needs saying now."
"What is it?"
"I've already moved all the ABC fund locations there."
Oliver pointed to a massive log beside the World Tree, surrounded by machines. It was made from the World Tree itself.
Everyone turned to look, then back at Oliver, faces alight with questions.
How?
"......That log?"
As the group floundered for a reaction, Carver asked.
Oliver answered matter-of-factly.
"Yes. It's a World Tree log, and inside it, I've stored where the 3.1302 trillion, 550 million Landa in ABC funds are hidden. Mostly in anonymous accounts deposited at banks or vaults in storage firms. There might even be traces of scam money from Craig or... whatever that other Enjoyment guy pulled."
Oliver dropped the bombshell in the most nonchalant tone imaginable.
All they could do was listen in stunned silence.
"......Mr. Dave, by any chance, are you a Net Navigator?"
Albert from the Moirai School broke the leaden quiet with his question.
Oliver shook his head.
"No, I can just access the World Tree. Nothing as grand as a Net Navigator."
"If you can access the World Tree, you're a Net Navigator... And if you can dig up that info, you're an exceptionally skilled one."
"Ah, I didn't uncover it myself. I just asked."
"Asked...? Who?"
As Oliver opened his mouth to answer, Carver—serious-faced—cut in.
Reeling from the info deluge, he refocused on the primary objective.
"First things first! Mages, access that World Tree log and verify Mr. Dave's claims."
The Moirai group hesitated but complied at Carver's urging, approaching the log reluctantly.
Carver eyed Oliver, his expression a mix of incomprehension, curiosity, and faint fear—like facing an enigma.
"Sorry, Mr. Dave, but could you wait until it's confirmed?"
Oliver nodded.
"Of course. I'll wait."