Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Blood Seal Awakening
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Sssshhhk!
Grimungandr's black blade tore through Bjornsen's chest, which was wreathed in green flames.
Riiip!
Skin and muscle split apart, and thick, black blood oozed out.
'Ugh!'
Carlyle grimaced at the pungent stench but did not stop swinging Grimungandr.
He knew all too well that given the immense difference in their builds, this was his only chance to finish Bjornsen.
“Valhalla… Valhallaaaaa!”
Bjornsen's head roared as it counterattacked the charging Carlyle.
He was a mighty barbarian warrior reborn as a powerful undead, a Dullahan.
Even as his body burned and his soul was torn apart by [Dragon's Wrath], his combat instincts had not faded in the slightest.
In that state, Bjornsen looked truly menacing and powerful.
Fwoosh!
Whoosh, whoosh!
Wreathed in green flames, Bjornsen swung his axe wildly, looking like a creature that had crawled straight out of hell.
But that was only his appearance.
Thwip!
An arrow fired by Marder pierced Bjornsen's right knee joint.
Stagger!
Bjornsen's body staggered, his balance broken.
No matter how powerful an undead, it couldn't move if its limb joints were destroyed.
Even a Dullahan was no exception.
Swoosh!
Grimungandr sliced through Bjornsen's axe-wielding right arm.
Thud!
Bjornsen's right arm fell to the ground.
“Valhalla… Valhallaaaaa…!!!”
Whoosh, whoosh!
Using his hair as a handle, Bjornsen swung his own head like a flail.
A Dullahan's head was several times more durable than ordinary steel, making it a formidable weapon in its own right.
'I have to dodge this.'
Carlyle easily evaded Bjornsen's attack.
With his right joint destroyed, Bjornsen's movements were clumsy and slow, making them easy to predict.
'Focus.'
Carlyle watched Bjornsen's movements closely, waiting for an opportunity.
His opponent was undead.
A creature that could not be killed by conventional means.
Dullahans, in particular, were undead that would not truly die unless their heads were destroyed.
As such, attacking and destroying its body, especially its heart, was a meaningless act.
'Now!'
Carlyle's eyes flashed fiercely.
Aura gathered on Grimungandr.
Swoooosh!
Soul Soother Sword, Genesis.
Wielding the swordsmanship of the nation's hero, Grimungandr sliced through Bjornsen's flying head.
Slice!
Bjornsen's head split in two and fell to the ground.
Thump!
Its head destroyed, the Dullahan's body crumbled like a rotten old tree.
And so, the rematch between Carlyle and Bjornsen ended in Carlyle's victory.
He had become a Dullahan to seek revenge, but in the end, he had failed.
Perhaps this was the price for ignoring the proverb about not provoking a sleeping dragon.
Who would have known that by pressing his foot on Carlyle's chest, right where the hatchling was sleeping, he would incur the wrath of a real dragon?
It was a stroke of incredibly bad luck for Bjornsen, but being dead, he was in no position to complain.
"I wonder if your ancestors will accept a failure who couldn't even get revenge?"
Carlyle spat a curse at Bjornsen's corpse.
***
While Carlyle, with the hatchling's help, was finishing off Bjornsen, the battle raged on, and Bowden Fortress was gradually collapsing.
Rumble!
Crash!
“Valhallaaaaa!”
“Guaaaaaaaak!”
Not only the main gate but also the wooden palisades serving as walls could no longer hold, and as they collapsed, the warriors of the Butcher Tribe and the necromancer Crowley's minions poured into the fortress.
"Retreat, retreat!"
In the end, Helen could hold out no longer and gave the order to retreat.
It wasn't as if there was anywhere else to retreat to.
Helen's order was to fall back to the small building inside Bowden Fortress that served as their command post.
With the fortress about to be overrun, her intention was to escape into the building and make a last stand from within.
"Re-Retreat!"
"Goddammit!"
The soldiers all made a dash for the small building.
But the enemy would not let the Decaron army retreat so easily.
"Foolish wretches."
Crowley laughed derisively, gripping a skull-shaped wand.
"Do you really think you can escape?"
Crack, craaack!
The ground split open in several places, and white, bony hands shot out, grabbing the ankles of the retreating Decaron soldiers.
It was a dark magic spell called [Bone Shackles], which summoned skeletal hands to bind enemies by their ankles.
"K-Kugh!"
"Let go of me!"
The soldiers swung their weapons, trying to break free, but the [Bone Shackles] were harder than most steel.
They were literally shackled at the ankles, unable to move an inch.
"Khahaha! You rats!"
"Finally, we can crush you!"
The barbarian warriors of the Butcher Tribe approached the soldiers bound by the [Bone Shackles].
"S-Son of a bitch!"
"To die like this... haha, hahaha..."
But contrary to the soldiers' expectations, the Butcher Tribe warriors surprisingly did not attack them.
This was because of an order from their chieftain, Jarkan.
"Honorable warriors! These men will either be made slaves or given as a gift to the necromancer! Therefore, refrain from unnecessary slaughter! If any of you disobey this order, I will cut off your head myself! Do you understand!"
"Yes!"
Jarkan, who had entered Bowden Fortress with Crowley, gave a stern command to his men.
Unlike other barbarians, Jarkan was exceptionally rational. He intended to use the Decaron soldiers as slaves for mining magic stones instead of killing them.
It was a rather good idea.
In barbarian society, laborers and farmers were the lowest class.
Due to the cultural trait of revering only warriors as noble, they had a ridiculously insufficient labor force for mining magic stones, let alone farming, relative to their population.
Meanwhile, with their ankles caught due to Crowley's arrival, the Decaron forces could no longer retreat and found themselves surrounded by the enemy.
They couldn't bring themselves to abandon their comrades bound by the [Bone Shackles], so everyone was stuck.
"Ah..."
Helen let out a long sigh.
"Son of a bitch!"
"I knew a day like this would come, but I didn't think it would be today."
"Grrrk!"
The reconnaissance team members also ground their teeth in fury.
They could still fight.
If they were to die, they wanted to die fighting.
But with their allies bound by the necromancer's magic and effectively held hostage, continuing the fight was impossible.
During all this, Carlyle was in a state of shock, momentarily lost in a daze.
"Butler, butler!"
"..."
"Butler, snap out of it! You stupid, dumb mutt!"
"..."
Carlyle didn't even flinch as the hatchling scratched and even bit him.
"You are..."
Carlyle's gaze was fixed on an undead soldier.
"Grk, grrrk!"
She had a small frame and pale skin, and she limped with a very unnatural gait, as if her ankle had bothered her in life.
Gwen.
She had become an undead soldier.
"..."
The sight of Gwen as an undead soldier came as a considerable shock to Carlyle.
It was a feeling anyone would have.
Losing someone you were close to for the first time is never something one can take lightly.
"You said you were going on leave soon."
A low murmur escaped Carlyle's lips.
"You only had a few days left. I was going to share my reward leave with you."
"Grrrk..."
"You said you missed your family."
"Grrrrrk!"
Having lost her memories of life, Gwen could only growl instinctively, unable to respond to Carlyle's words.
She was no longer Private Gwen of the 2nd Combat Engineer Platoon.
Just another undead soldier, a being that could no longer be called human.
***
"B-Bjornsen! My brother!"
Meanwhile, Jarkan had found Bjornsen's body and was enraged.
"Why are you like this! Get up! Hurry! You must have your revenge to go to Valhalla! You must restore your honor to enter the hall of warriors and face our ancestors!"
But just as Gwen couldn't answer Carlyle, it was absurd to think that Bjornsen, his head split in two, would respond to Jarkan.
"My brother's honor...!!!"
Enraged, Jarkan whipped his head around to look at Carlyle.
"Sigmund... In the end, you defiled my brother's honor. I may forgive others, but I will never forgive you. I will flay your skin and..."
"Now, now, barbarian chieftain. Calm down. Have you forgotten our promise?"
Crowley stepped in front of Jarkan.
"Sigmund is mine. So don't even think about touching him."
"Didn't you say you'd be fine with just the corpse?"
"Of course, I did. But there's no need to kill him when he's still alive, is there? From my perspective, fresher material is better. More fun to play with, too. Haaaaa...!"
A vile desire gleamed in Crowley's eyes.
"That is not the promise I made. So step aside."
"Hoho."
Crowley let out a hearty laugh.
"It would be wise to back down while I'm being nice. Otherwise, things might become... unpleasant between us, don't you think?"
"What?"
Murderous intent filled Jarkan's eyes.
"Hey, old mage. Are you done talking?"
"Don't look at me like that. I warned you."
Crowley didn't bat an eye.
This was partly because Crowley was a skilled necromancer, but also because he was accompanied by four Death Knights.
Death Knights were undead beings who had been knights in their past lives, and their combat prowess was immense.
"Don't forget. The only reason we're cooperating is because of the continentals, not because I actually need your strength."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Threatening? That seems like a bit of a stretch. Let's just say I'm giving you some friendly advice."
"You dare, old mage...!"
Just as Jarkan took a menacing step toward Crowley.
Fwoooom!
A powerful storm of mana erupted from the motionless Carlyle.
"...!"
Crowley and Jarkan instinctively turned to look at Carlyle.
The aura emanating from Carlyle was that unsettling.
"Hmm."
Crowley narrowed his eyes as if he'd realized something.
"The Blood Seal Awakening?"
"What does that mean?"
"How ignorant. Your barbarian tribes and the Sigmund Family have been rivals for ages, yet you don't know about the Blood Seal Awakening?"
"...?"
"The blood that flows in their veins... The Sigmund bloodline contains a supernatural power passed down from ancient times. The awakening of that power is called the Blood Seal Awakening."
"Nonsense."
Jarkan dismissed Crowley's words.
"We, the Barbar people, are the true warriors with the bloodline of fighters. I've heard the Sigmunds are strong, but our Barbar people also possess a power granted by our ancestral gods..."
"Tsk, tsk."
Crowley clicked his tongue.
"You don't understand at all. Is it because you're the chieftain of a new, rootless tribe?"
"What did you say?"
"The Sigmunds are..."
Crowley couldn't finish his sentence.
Whoooosh!
Carlyle, now enveloped in a black aura, his eyes were emitting a deep violet flash.
Blood Seal Awakening.
Just as Crowley had said, it was clear that the supernatural power etched into the Sigmund bloodline had awakened.