Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: 5. Our Baby Doesn't Bite
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“...What the hell did you do?”
Borin’s footsteps, which had seemed ready to charge at any moment, came to an abrupt halt.
His senses had detected the danger first.
Just a few minutes ago, the atmosphere around his dying prey had completely flipped.
He must have sensed something was off.
"Nothing."
The air in the stone chamber sank heavily.
Its mere presence emanated an oppressive pressure that seemed to crush the surrounding space.
I brushed the dirt off the floor with my hand and stood up fully.
In the darkness, my eyes glaring at the opponent glowed faintly with a black light.
As if savoring his agitation. I said nothing.
I simply stared silently at Borin, who stood frozen in place.
The emotions rising on his face were bewilderment and an instinctive sense of crisis.
The instincts of a battle-hardened warrior, who had seen it all, were screaming that this situation was terribly wrong.
Because he was so seasoned, even though he already knew fleeing was the right move.
He wasn't close with that frivolous, unskilled fool, but Tundra was still a warrior of the Frost Giant Tribe.
For him, whose reason had been numbed by rage at losing a comrade to a pathetic pale kingdom rat like this.
Retreat was no longer an option.
His pride wouldn't allow it.
Even if that choice led to his doom.
“...Putting on a pathetic bluff, you rat.”
Borin feigned composure as he readjusted his grip on his battle axe.
But his faintly trembling hand had already felt, deep in his bones, that the foe before him was anything but a bluff.
I tilted my head slightly toward him.
And slowly crooked my finger.
As if beckoning him to come.
"What? Not coming?"
At that taunting gesture, his reason finally snapped—or perhaps it was a cry to conquer his fear. Who knows.
“Insolent rat!”
With a roar, his massive frame kicked off the ground and barreled toward me.
The Frost Giant Tribe's secret technique. A killing charge that pulverized foes with the full weight of his body.
An attack that would have crushed me formless without a second thought to dodge, back then.
But now, I was different.
‘Slow.’
In a bizarre sensation where the world seemed to crawl.
Every motion of the enemy before me—muscle flex and release, even his breathing.
All of it registered crystal clear.
And my body reacted before my mind.
Familiar, as if repeated thousands, tens of thousands of times.
‘Frost Giant warrior, huh. Their charges hit hard, but they're just as linear. No variation.’
The memories the Black King had carved into his flesh through countless lifetime battles awakened within me.
‘No, not quite memory—more like instinct, etched bone-deep.’
Just before Borin's battle axe cleaved my skull,
I tilted my head slightly aside with the barest motion.
Swoosh.
The blade of death grazed my cheek.
A few hairs sliced by wind pressure alone.
“Wha...!”
Shock flooded Borin's eyes.
Unbelievable. That the rat he'd dismissed dodged so effortlessly.
And I seized that fleeting gap.
Slipping into his guard like flowing water, my left hand lightly smacked up his axe arm.
My right hand, knife-edged, struck precisely at his collarbone.
Crack!
“Gah!”
A dull crack of shattering bone, and a agonized scream tore from Borin's maw.
The axe slipped limply from his grasp, clattering across the floor.
I didn't stop.
Twisting my body, I drove my elbow into an uppercut at his jaw.
Thud!
His brain rattled by the shock, Borin's body lifted briefly into the air before flopping helplessly to the stone.
Three seconds.
In that span, the battle flipped entirely.
“Y-You bastard... what the...”
Blood streaming down his face, vision blurred.
Yet Borin, crawling on the floor, stared up at me in disbelief.
Vomiting blood, he kept mumbling nonstop.
What did you do?
That's what he wanted to ask.
I approached slowly, seized his hair, and yanked his face up.
Our eyes met—his, fading with life's light.
“Who knows.”
To my own disbelief,
I even smiled at him.
"I don't get it either."
I slammed his head down onto the stone floor.
Crunch!
His skull shattered in a gruesome crack,
body spasming once before going slack.
You have eliminated a hostile target.
Authority experience has increased.
Silence descended.
I tossed the limp corpse aside and gazed at my hands.
No guilt over killing a man anymore.
Like squashing a bug—no feeling at all.
Was the Black King's Ring corrupting my mind?
Or was this my true self, clawing to survive?
Didn't matter.
Either way.
What nagged me was how naturally my body had moved against him.
Movements I'd never learned.
Yet my flesh acted as if it'd fought that way lifelong.
Redirecting foe's force, striking vitals efficiently,
Maximizing damage with minimal effort.
"This ring's power?"
I was sure. All of it, the Black King's legacy.
It echoed endlessly in my head.
Essences of countless real-world martial arts and swordsmanship he'd honed wandering the continent in youth—imprinted in my mind, my body.
Not mere techniques, but with stats boosted to dominate.
Honestly, curiosity burned about this Black King.
Where'd he come from?
By game lore I knew, a man like him shouldn't exist.
“...I'll mull it over slowly.”
I eyed the fallen barbarian corpse.
‘...Shall I?’
Hesitation brief. I'd crossed the line already.
Hesitating now? Hypocrisy.
I toyed with the Black King's Ring on my right hand.
More knowledge flooded through it.
The forbidden magic he'd obsessed over late in life.
Necromancy, wielding souls.
‘Corpses... prime material.’
A voice whispered in my skull.
"Sure is."
I smirked, squatted before Borin's body, hand over his heart.
“Rise.”
Cold, viscous mana seeped from my fingertips into the flesh.
The still corpse twitched, convulsing faintly.
Crack. Pop.
Shattered bones ground grotesquely back into place.
Pooled blood slurped reverse into wounds.
"Grooo... Grrooaaargh!"
Soul long fled,
this barbarian husk mere meat.
Didn't matter.
I knew how to summon back the departed soul.
Black King's lore in my head supplied it.
Over the thrashing corpse, I intoned lowly.
“Rise as my sword and shield.”
Like swearing an oath.
Then, Borin's corpse slowly rose.
Empty eyes ignited faintly with black mana.
Servant binding successful.
First subordinate acquired.
“...What the hell is this?”
Hm. Nice.
First try, and it took root perfectly.
"You bastard. What did you do to me?"
Panicking, no doubt.
Dead one moment, hale the next.
"Answer me!"
I grinned at Borin, hollering with that baffled glare.
"Congrats. You're my slave now."
“...You fucking dog!”
Humiliated by my words, he lunged in a frenzy—but
his body froze stock-still, bound by invisible chains.
"Wanna strike? Can't."
I watched his flailing with interest, replying calmly.
“Simple. You died. I revived you. I'm your master now.”
“Bullshit! Think this curse binds a Frost Giant warrior?!”
“Not a curse. Contract. And yeah, it does.”
"You goddamn mutt! I'll kill you yet!"
He thrashed to move his locked body.
Wasted effort.
Contract sealed—he couldn't die without my say-so.
“Loudmouth.”
For the fool still yapping nonsense,
I issued my landmark first order.
“Kneel.”
“Shut your trap! For scum like you... Gurk!”
Thud!
His defiance clashed with the authority's grip.
Black smoke billowed from his frame, soul-searing agony crashing over him.
Sizzle.
"Arrrrgh!"
At last, the proud savage buckled, screaming as he dropped to his knees before me.
Blood-tears of humiliation streamed from his eyes.
Absorbing negative emotion 'Humiliation'.
Absorbing negative emotion 'Hatred'.
Authority experience has increased.
“Now, ready to chat?”