Chapter 156
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 156
Chapter Title: Until I Win
"Cawww!"
Even without using abilities like Twilight Feather, the attack I'd just unleashed was plenty threatening.
Just with pure physical technique, it packed this much punch. If I layered on my other skills, the damage would skyrocket exponentially.
What bird would ever think to wield its wings like a mantis scythe?
No one but me.
And there was a reason I was patting myself on the back like this.
"Grwor!"
The rabbit I'd been relentlessly pounding on up until now had finally shown a flicker of panic.
This max-level rabbit that had casually deflected or blocked every attack with ease—cracks had finally appeared in that smug expression.
Was it just because the technique I'd used was strong?
No, it was because it couldn't figure out what technique it even was.
Acorn and mantis.
The move I'd used was one I'd crafted from my own memories.
Only I knew it, only I remembered that moment, those emotions, that scene.
Recreating it as a technique had landed a solid hit even on this superior foe.
"Grwor..."
Startled by my attack, the rabbit fell back for a moment.
But I didn't let the opening slip—I pressed the assault.
The first thing I'd ever stolen was an acorn, and the enemy that had threatened my life was a mantis.
So, what memory would I draw on to face it this time?
"Kugh... guh..."
I let out a grotesque noise.
"Heh... kughhh... wat...er..."
Spitting out short phrases was easy enough.
But I deliberately mangled my pronunciation to mimic that voice—the one all the others feared.
What I was embodying was the Scarecrow, Host of the Eternal Night.
"Aaa... waaater..."
Thud thud thud thud thud!
I charged at it on all fours like a madman.
All fours, including my wings.
Picture this.
A crow sprinting across the ground on all fours, head spinning wildly in circles.
No matter how strong the opponent, anyone would freeze in terror.
"Graaaah!"
It screamed.
Even this powerhouse found it plenty creepy.
"Nyaaah!"
Some other scream rang out too, but I'd ignore that for now.
Whiiiiiish!
I mimicked the Scarecrow's movements.
Spinning round and round, I swung my wings as if to grind the earth itself to dust.
Craaaack!
It would've dodged easily before, but this time, it took the hit.
This technique wasn't something you could just evade.
It was so wildly unpredictable—even I didn't know where it would strike next—that getting tagged was inevitable.
"Graaaah!"
The damage wasn't huge, of course, but the fact that it connected was what mattered.
Crack!
From there, I kept clashing with it head-on.
I actively exploited openings with Crow's Dance, countering its strikes with other forms from the same technique.
Just our bodies colliding was enough to reshape the terrain around us.
Trees split, rocks shattered—even without using any abilities.
This was power I couldn't have dreamed of before my training.
Craaaaaash!
A massive thud echoed as something slammed into the bare ground.
"...It's over."
The outcome of this spar was decided.
"Impressive. No matter how many spirit elixirs you've consumed, achieving this growth in such a short time... No, the elixirs merely accelerated it. Pioneering your own techniques is purely your own talent, guest."
"Cawww..."
I lay sprawled on the ground, tongue lolling, gasping for breath.
As expected, I'd lost.
I'd developed new moves and put up a decent fight, but the gap in our levels was too vast.
On top of that, this thing specialized in close-quarters brawling, while I'd fought without tapping any of my traits.
It was like battling on its home turf—I couldn't win even if I wanted to.
"And... you've fulfilled the request."
But while I'd lost the fight, in the end, I'd come out on top.
The condition the White Rabbit had set was simply surviving against this max-level rabbit, and I'd gone beyond that to actually wound it.
"Good. As promised, the treasure..."
"Kak."
I shook my head.
Declining the treasure.
"Huh? The crows I know wouldn't pass that up, nyang? You didn't eat something bad, nyang?"
"Caw, kak."
This guy's killing the mood.
The initial condition had been survival, but I was aiming higher.
Now that I'd created Crow's Dance, I needed to keep sparring with a superior opponent like this.
Acorn, mantis, Scarecrow.
These techniques were already useful, but I had far more memories stored away.
If I turned every step of my journey into techniques, they'd prove invaluable in future battles.
And honestly...
This felt... winnable?
"Grwor...?"
As I shot it that look, the max-level rabbit's fur bristled.
It was expressing its rage, in its own way.
The White Rabbit glanced back and forth between us, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"...I'll need to fetch more spirit elixirs, then. Very well. How long do you plan to keep challenging it?"
How long?
"Kagak!"
Until I win, obviously.
A gray fortress reminiscent of the night sky.
Even mindless beasts shied away from the castle, which always reeked of ominous energy.
A Death Knight had appeared out of nowhere to claim it as his own, using the gloomy stronghold as a base to steadily expand his forces.
He was called the Overlord, the Conqueror King—but the word that truly described him was something else.
The king with a lion's heart: Lion Heart King.
An immortal Death Knight with the head of a massive lion.
He was a constant in any discussion of the continent's strongest.
He never stayed dead, and his lion-like valor shone undimmed in any situation.
Even when all his subordinates fell, he alone rose steadfastly, slaying foes and seizing victory. That was the Lion Heart King.
"Your Majesty, a visitor requests an audience."
Hearing the familiar voice, the Lion Heart King nodded.
Just as he was a Death Knight with a lion's head, the one bold enough to address him was another beast-headed Death Knight.
His adjutant, who had been with him since before they built their forces, bore a hippopotamus head.
Unlike other Death Knights who wielded massive greatswords, he swept the battlefield with short daggers. With his hippo body to boot, he almost looked comical at a glance.
But no one dared mock him.
He had fought countless battles alongside the Lion Heart King and was now indisputably his second-in-command.
The smallest Death Knight, he had overcome his innate limits.
Over hills, through valleys, across mountains—he charged into battle.
With his tiny frame and meager weapons, he dominated the fields, earning the mocking nickname "Little Hippo." And to this day, he was still called Little Hippo—not mockery now, but an honorable title praising his feats.
"A request for audience, eh? Good timing—my bones are aching anyway. How many did you bring?"
"My king, forgive me, but this isn't for battle. The Night Witches have come."
His face twisted at "not for battle," then twisted again at what followed.
He loathed both things equally.
"I can't stand the sight of them, but if you're reporting it to me, there must be something to it."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
His trust in Little Hippo was absolute.
A comrade who'd shared countless battlefields, like a brother.
Thus, the Lion Heart King entrusted him with full authority over the castle.
He despised tedious, pretentious talk, so he left it to his most reliable adjutant.
All the Lion Heart King wanted was more blood and war.
Finding strong enemies to fill his empty heart and prove his courage—that alone consumed his time.
To him, the Night Witches were a distasteful bunch.
They tried to sway him with words and use his castle for their schemes.
He'd slain countless ones already, keeping them at bay, but they popped up now and then.
He usually ordered his adjutant to handle witch visitors on his behalf.
For Little Hippo to report directly meant this wasn't a routine visit.
At the very least, it was something the adjutant deemed worthy of the king's ears.
"They say they've come with word from an old comrade."
Old comrade.
The Lion Heart King briefly reminisced.
Many comrades had come and gone, but "comrade" from his adjutant's mouth surely meant those who'd adventured with Dorothy.
"An old comrade, you say. So, my turn has finally come, has it? The Eternal Night—that fanciful curse—is about to begin."
He knew well the state of his old comrades.
The Scarecrow had gone mad, the Tin Woodman had sealed himself away.
Traces of their resistance to the Eternal Night.
The Lion Heart King was also a Host of the Eternal Night.
He knew it full well, and knew that's why the Night Witches obsessed over him.
But unlike the others, he felt no strong aversion to the Eternal Night.
To him, it was an opportunity.
A trial to prove his true valor, the foundation to place the entire continent beneath his feet.
Even so, he refused to ally with the Night Witches.
The reason was simple.
He just plain didn't like them.
"Is that all? Looks like I'll get to bloody my blade again after so long."
News of an old comrade piqued his interest a bit, but it wasn't reason enough to spare a witch.
Murderous intent gleamed in his eyes.
His twisted courage bred madness in him, manifesting as the tyrant and overlord he was.
"...They added that they have a warning for Your Majesty."
Those words halted him mid-motion.
He hadn't imagined anything like it.
Only then did he understand why his adjutant had brought it to him.
It was... amusing, in its way.
The funniest joke yet from those boring witches.
"Skarnass's great crow. Three heads, subjugated even the Emerald Saint Knight, monster bird with followers across the continent—it's coming here soon."
"Hah! Hahaha! HAHAHAHA!"
The Lion Heart King bellowed with laughter.
After endless boredom, he'd finally heard something to entertain him.
His eyes burned with even deeper murderous light.