Shall I Take Care of It?
“These motherfucking bastards are begging to die!”
“W-what!?”
As I bellowed curses and charged forward, the three ugly thugs turned to me in surprise. But by the time they'd confirmed my full-speed approach with their eyes, it was already too late. I twisted my body mid-leap toward the guy tearing at Klea's clothes and unleashed a rear kick.
“Gahk!”
The man took my hind hoof straight to his body, flew back, slammed into the dungeon wall, and tumbled limply to the ground.
““Boss!””
While the other two rushed to their flying comrade, I approached Klea protectively and checked her condition.
“Klea. You hurt anywhere?”
“Ah... aaah... S-Sema...”
Klea was so terrified her mouth just flapped open and shut—she couldn't string words together.
“You fucking pieces of shit! Gang-raping a blind woman? How many of you does it take?”
I spat curses without a thought for what I'd done to her myself, blinded by rage that my future bitch had nearly been taken. It felt like my reason had kicked down the door in my head and bolted, with no sign of return. I had to beat these fuckers like dogs on the hottest day of summer for sanity to come slinking back with a sheepish “I'm home~”.
“H-heok...!”
“H-he's... dead...!”
My fleeing reason slammed back into place at their words. What? Dead? From that? Hold up—did I just kill a man?
“Y-you fucking monster bastard!”
“That's a monster!? It talks!?”
“I don't know, fuck! Just kill it!”
The two bandit-looking survivors drew their swords, cursing as they glared at me. This was insane. I'd killed someone? ...But why didn't I feel any guilt? It just seemed like some asshole who deserved to die had checked out. Was it because they were illegal adventurers? Or because they'd touched Klea? I'd killed a human, but this faint reaction... it was disconcerting, but not the priority now. First, deal with these two sword-wielding pricks in front of me.
“Klea. Hang tight. I'll finish this quick.”
“Ah, y-yes? Eugh... B-be careful...”
After reassuring her, I faced the thugs—their rotten faces begged for a beating. I wanted to shift to half-human form and pound them senseless, but... transformation took a few seconds of my body melting like smoke. Too much opening. Instead, I pawed the ground with my hooves and glared.
“Y-you cocky fucking monster... Do you know who we—”
“What the fuck do criminals like you have to strut about!?”
No need to hear out heavy offenders who raped and murdered. I cut them off and lunged. The one hanging back dodged sideways, but the muttering front-liner panicked and crumpled as my shoulder rammed him. I raised a forehoof and smashed down on his head.
Bare-handed, even 2-on-1 wouldn't faze me... but weapons, and if they used Fighting Spirit? Might get dicey. No mercy—I slammed with full force. Something crunched unpleasantly under my hoof, a dented sensation traveling up my leg. Ugh... don't look.
I turned to the last one...
“Krrk!”
He'd closed in fast, swinging at me. I twisted desperately, but my side took a deep gash, blood spraying.
Fucking hell...!
Burning pain like a burn spread from the wound. Red haze rose from the guy—he was using Fighting Spirit. In under a second, he'd buffed and slashed. His reaction speed was no joke. I'd pegged him as a basic rapist...
Blood dripping, I tensed up. A Fighting Spirit user couldn't be underestimated, even against my massive, muscled horse frame. That cheat skill let weaklings carve real wounds.
But every cheat has weaknesses.
“Die, you monster fuck!”
I feigned struggle, dodging and creating distance to observe. Not Als' hero-level speed, just criminal trash—dodgeable with focus. Luring him away from Klea, I evaded until his red aura faded, sweat beading on his face.
“F-fuck... sneaky monster bitch...”
He sensed something off, aura vanishing as he reset his stance. Dropped it? Without it, how's he fighting me? My wound wouldn't hold forever either. Spotting the fade, I charged, rearing up.
He raised his sword to guard his head—wrong target. I smashed my forehoof into his shoulder joint.
“Gaaaaahhh!”
His dropping sword grazed my leg, but both arms hung limp like snapped. I shoved him down and crushed his legs too.
“Gaaaaahhh! Grrk, guh...!”
“Hoo, hoo...! You criminals asked for death...! Hoo...!”
Tension easing, my deep side gash screamed. Breathing through the pain, I addressed him.
“Answer my questions if you want to live. Got it?”
He bit his lip, twitching in agony, then nodded.
“Hoo... fuck. How many of you total? When'd you enter?”
“W-we're all... came in two days ago...”
Good. Lizbet and Als should be safe sans monsters.
“Ha... sneaking into a dungeon as criminals? Grab loot and bail. Why touch Klea? Suicide wish?”
“W-we're not illegal adventurers...”
What?
“Guhk...! W-we're... Viper's Fang guild members... needed quick cash... no assignment, just picked a dungeon... was gonna grab a bit and leave...!”
Criminals confirmed. But...
“You idiots. Why target Klea? No thought to her party? Sneaking in and acting bold?”
“Grrk...! That woman... was our target nun... guk...!”
What? They targeted Klea?
“What bullshit. Why target her?”
“Th-that's...”
Tears streaming in pain, his eyes darted, scheming an excuse.
“Guhk... j-just... for fun...”
“No dodging—why target her!”
“Gaaaaahhh!!!”
Stepping on his leg, he shrieked.
“C-can't say! Even if you spare me, boss'll kill me!”
“You crazy fuck!”
“Grraaahk!!!”
Fury boiled at his defiance despite death looming—I caved his chest in. He convulsed, then went slack.
...Huh?
Panicking, I pressed an ear to his heart. Nothing. Dead? I'd spared the others by circumstance, but didn't mean to kill this one... Fuck. Should've gotten why they targeted Klea. Felt off. Not guilt over killing, but lack thereof. Was I always this ruthless?
Sighing, I approached worried Klea in the corner.
“Phew... Klea. It's over.”
“A-are you okay, Sema...?”
Her pallor returned, tremors easing—she was calming.
“Side and arm got sliced... sorry, but could you heal me, Klea?”
“Y-yes! Face your wounds this way!”
I lay before her, wounds toward her. Light poured from her hands, sealing them fast. Deep gash gone in seconds. Saint candidate healing for sure.
“Thanks, Klea.”
“N-no... sorry, I... I'm the one who should apologize, Sema...”
“Nothing to apologize for. They're the scum. But they targeted you—what rings a bell?”
“N-no, nothing... oh, they knew my name...”
They knew her name? Deliberate hunt. Post-healing, I checked corpses—snake tattoos on hands. Guild mark? Investigate later.
Shifting human-form unseen, I looted bags: dungeon ores. Greedy fucks. Took valuables, piled bodies, reverted to horse-form. With Klea's help, strapped loot. Her torn habit exposed undies and stockings—I mounted her aboard.
“First, my gear. Bit far, but no other illegals, so Als and Lizbet fine. They got more experience—grab my stuff, cover you up, then find them.”
I trotted slowly toward my dropped gear.
Back at my gear, I dropped Klea and loot, heading to a water puddle. Horse-form left blood caked—didn't wash off in shifts. Felt like loading saved forms, not rebuilding. Creepy, but couldn't return to Radia bloody. Called to Klea at the puddle.
“Klea. Sorry, wipe the blood off me? Rough job's fine...”
“Ah, yes. I'll help.”
She approached, then collapsed.
“Wha—!? K-Klea!? What's wrong!?”
“S-sorry, Sema... tension just... released...”
She trembled, legs failing to stand, tears flowing.
“K-Klea!?”
“F-first time... feeling intent to kill me... so scary...”
Targeted to kill? Why murder a blind nun? What gain?
“And... when they died... I felt relief inside... relieved at death as a cleric... I feel awful...”
“N-no, Klea! They deserved it!”
I rushed to her, blurting comfort.
“Think—they invaded illegally, tried raping and killing you? Total trash! Better off dead for the world, right!?”
Her tearful shock demanded reassurance.
“Men forcing a sight-impaired woman! That's total tra...sh...”
Realization hit—I was that trash.
“...Sorry... that trash was me...”
I bowed my head to the ground in apology. Klea giggled through her sadness.
“Y-you're... fine, Sema... weird, but kept my purity... saved me too...”
Tears welled, cheeks flushed, a strange smile.
“Their emotions were just scary... yours felt like... truly desiring me... different vibe...”
True, but equating me to them stung. Deep regret. Then she stood, cloth in hand, approaching.
“I'm okay now. Let me clean you.”
She sat beside, wetting cloth, wiping as directed. Watching her, torn habit revealed undies and breasts. Conscience popped up: Apologize, trash! But... male instinct unavoidable...
Suddenly, my horse cock emerged, throbbing, precum dripping. Urk... Normally I'd ask, but after that trauma...
Klea quieted, slowed, stopped, head down, face red.
“K-Klea?”
She lifted her head softly.
“...Shall I... take care of it, Sema...?”
My cock twitched wildly at her words.