One Step Forward (4)

One step, then another.

Hans did not stop. His legs trembled and his footing faltered, but he neither halted nor fell back. Slow though he was, he advanced — sure, deliberate, inch by inch.

…Is that really a human? Coming toward me?

Nurgle's jaws clacked together with a dry, rattling sound, the words laced with genuine puzzlement. It was strange enough that a human could look upon his false form and keep his wits. But to approach?

Toward him?

Sword in hand?

If you want to die that badly, I'll grant your wish.

Nurgle's body swelled enormously. It ballooned like an overfilled bladder, and insects of every color and shape burst from the surface of his flesh. Drawing a deep breath, he exhaled all at once — and from his mouth poured a living torrent of vermin.

— Shaaaaah!

Each one of them carried a lethal venom. The swarm hurtled toward Hans in a dense, writhing mass. A single brush from any of those insects, and he would be a cold corpse inside of two minutes.

"Hah…"

Hans tracked the oncoming poison-bugs with a steady gaze. The Rune of Courage pulsed against his skin, a second heartbeat thrumming through him, lending its strength. Muscles that had locked rigid with tension loosened; a clean, sharp excitement set his blood racing.

He could see the layered wings beating up and down. He could see the venom beading on the stingers. He could see the mandibles yawning wide as they closed in.

A surge of heightened awareness — as if the entire world, everything but himself, had slowed to a crawl.

…Now!

Hans threw himself low and rolled. The instant his body left the spot, a countless throng of insects slammed into the place where he had stood.

— KRAAANG!

The impact was too violent to believe mere insects had struck stone. The cavern shuddered; grit and pebbles rained from the ceiling.

Hmm? He dodged.

From Nurgle's body, watching with idle interest, a multitude of jointed segments began to move in rhythmic sequence, producing a wet, chittering rush of sound. Perhaps the human who had slipped his attack had caught his curiosity.

A black liquid, thick as filthy water, bubbled and crawled across the ground. No — not liquid. Hans glanced at it without thinking and found a human face staring back.

"M… Master…"

"Free… me… please…"

Every air-bubble that swelled and burst with a wet pop was a human face. Faces twisted in agony ballooned up like foam and ruptured — then swelled and ruptured again. Bubble after bubble, all of them the same person's face.

"You… what the hell have you done?"

Hans made no effort to hide the hatred in his voice. Nurgle tilted his head, as if the glare directed at him were nothing more than an amusing curiosity.

Hmm. The soul is that of an ordinary human… the body is well-developed, but nowhere near enough to raise its rank. How fascinating. That bizarre letter radiating strange waves is elevating your rank. Most interesting. What is that letter? How does it raise the rank of a human like you?

Nurgle stared fixedly at Hans's longsword. Interest, greed, a scholar's hunger, and a slimy possessiveness all swam in that gaze. The look crawled over Hans's skin like a wet tongue, and a cold chill ran through him.

"…That power was never meant for a demon like you."

Hans murmured the words low and tightened his grip on the sword. He focused on the pulse spreading through his entire body — as though two hearts were pumping blood through every vein at once.

How delightful. I thought some empty husk had wandered in, a failure — but you would make a most intriguing specimen.

His torn lips stretched so wide they nearly met at the corners. Between them, a tongue-like mass of writhing worms spilled out, drooling black fluid in thick drops — as if he were salivating at the sight of Hans.

I won't kill you just yet. That peculiar body of yours, and that letter… I won't be bored for a while.

— Shaaaaaah!!

With Nurgle's words, another vast swarm of insects launched itself at Hans. They blackened the cavern walls, packed so densely that nothing beyond them could be seen.

Hans swallowed hard. A tidal wave of venomous bugs crashed toward him.

His heart hammered wildly — but the Rune of Courage pulsed with calm, steady beats, soothing him.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You must.

Lower the knee.

Eyes down—

Power into the hands.

Weight into the hips—

Cut!

— Shaaaaaah!!

Hans's blade flashed out like a bolt of lightning, drawing a single long line through the air. Against the onrushing swarm it was a thread — thin as a needle — cut cleanly horizontal.

And the insects fell in a rain. Heads severed, bodies split, legs sheared away. Multicolored fragments of vermin writhed on the cavern floor.

"Hah—!"

Hans expelled the breath he had been holding and dragged air back into his lungs. Nurgle's face twisted with naked, ravenous desire.

What on earth are you? Faint though it is, your rank rose again. Truly fascinating! So entertaining, so entertaining!! Hahaha!! It's been ages since I've felt this stirred!!

As if to mirror his mounting excitement, the insects composing Nurgle's body skittered frantically — scattering, re-forming, scattering again.

I will have you. That body, that soul — even the weapon of the god you people speak of! All of it. I will take it all apart and dig through every piece.

Nurgle's greedy stare fixed on Hans. Every instinct in Hans's body screamed alarm — but he forced the corner of his mouth upward.

When you are afraid and want to run, you take one step forward.

Courage is knowing fear and overcoming it.

He would conquer the fear, and he would advance.

"A worm like you wouldn't reach it in a thousand years."

I wonder how long that clever mouth of yours will keep flapping.

Hans strode forward. One step, then another, larger still. The strides quickened, and before long he was running.

At the end of that charge waited a soul-devouring demon — and death.

Even if he lost, he could not fall back.

He had a reason to raise his sword now.

He had promised he would return.

I'll start by taking the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arm.

A long foreleg unfolded from Nurgle's body and scythed through the air, ripping the wind. Shaped like a reaper's sickle, the limb drove straight at Hans's shoulder.

— KANG!

"Khrrrk!"

The speed was beyond sight — but instinct, wound to a razor edge, guided him. He barely managed to catch the sickle-leg on his blade. The shock burned through his shoulder and arm as if the limb had caught fire.

His opponent gave him no time to recover. Nurgle extruded six more sickle-claws and flailed them in a frenzy.

Sickle-claws closing in from every direction.

— Kang, kakang!

Hans relied on pure, extreme instinct and intuition — deflecting, parrying, blocking every strike. The claws that glanced off his sword tore the cavern walls like paper, advertising their power with every gouge.

Your rank keeps climbing! Hahaha!! Faint and unstable, but growing through combat, is it? Then how about this?

Nurgle drew his body inward. Unlike the expansive breath that had launched the swarms, he compacted himself, compressing, kneading something dense within. Then the insects that formed his flesh began to spray it out in thick jets.

— Sssssssss

An ominous violet miasma billowed forth. Wherever the fumes touched floor or wall, the stone blackened and melted; mold bloomed, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unidentifiable tumors swelled into being.

"Insane…!"

Hans tried to fall back at once.

And where do you think you're going?

Nurgle had no intention of simply watching. He swept his sickle-claws again, pinning Hans in place. Hans could do nothing but desperately block the vicious incoming strikes.

That bastard is toying with me.

Hans understood. The demon was experimenting on him — the way children pull the legs off ants one by one, just to see how long they keep moving. Nurgle regarded him as nothing more than an interesting specimen.

The violet miasma crept along the floor and walls. In its wake grew tumors, blackened scabs, dripping pus, and writhing mold — as if plague itself had been sown into the fabric of nature.

Cold sweat ran down Hans's face. To escape the poison fog he needed to retreat, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but Nurgle gave him no opening.

Now then, let's see. If combat raises your rank — what about plague?

The miasma writhed across the ground and began to climb Hans's boots.

"Huh…?"

My finger, halfway to the shop, froze. The Rune of Courage had an effect like this?

There had been no description before the engraving, and none after — so I'd simply forgotten about it. I never imagined it would purge every status ailment on the board.

My brain stalled for a second, then I scrambled to read the message. It ran long, but the important part boiled down to this:

"So when he fights someone stronger than him, he won't back down, he gets buffs, and he doesn't drop easily even at death's door?"

From the description alone, it was the kind of effect that made you stronger against the powerful — like a giant-slayer. Usually these things came with a "despises the weak" tag. Hans had somehow ended up with "despises the strong" instead.

The effect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠itself reeked of a high-stakes gamble, but in this situation that was actually a plus. Hans running a solo raid was already a gamble. A few more coin-flips on top of that wouldn't change much.

Coming toward me?

Nurgle's body ballooned, and insects poured out in a cascade. The graphics were unnervingly vivid — the bugs writhed as if they were genuinely alive.

"Hup—!"

"Whoa — Hans is insane."

One clean sweep of his longsword, and the insects rained down in pieces. Watching that alone, you'd think the world's greatest swordsman had shown up. Hans's class was supposed to be Adventurer. Why was he this strong? Maybe the attack-power and agility buffs had stacked higher than I'd expected.

And then Hans kept going — blocking, parrying, rolling through Nurgle's assaults like some kind of combat acrobat, holding a razor-thin line in a fight that looked ready to end him at any second.

My palms were soaked just from watching. Before I knew it, both hands were clasped again, and I was praying with everything I had.

"Please, Hans!! My wallet is riding on you!"

If you look like you're about to lose, I have to start spending real money! I already bought a fifty-thousand-won bundle earlier — I do not want to buy another one!

The exchange dragged on for what felt like forever. Then Nurgle compressed his body into a tight, dense mass and launched a new attack pattern.

Drown in my poison and die…

— Fssssssshhh

Violet smoke flooded the map. Wherever it touched, mold erupted, massive tumors ballooned, and yellow pus oozed into existence. Anyone could tell that touching that smoke would end very, very badly.

"Dodge, Hans! Please dodge!!"

And where do you think you're going?

Nurgle's voice answered my desperate shout as if on cue. Hans, pinned under the demon's relentless assault, couldn't fall back.

And then, just before the violet smoke touched Hans's feet—

"Hah…"

I quietly hit the pause button. Then I opened the shop.

It had always been this way. The cards knew the answer.

This time, too, the cards would find it.

Just like always.