Pika! Lightning Armor
Chapter 80 - Pika! In ancient Greece, the hero Theseus is said to have entered the labyrinth with a ball of thread to find his way. Hansel and Gretel walked into the forest scattering breadcrumbs. So what should I rely on to navigate these sewers? The answer is blood. Of course, as a devout Confucian who would never waste the body my parents gave me, I didn't use my own blood. "Kuh... kuhhh..." There were more than enough trash blood packs willing to donate. Most died instantly when struck with magic, their bodies exploding into pieces, so I mostly subdued them with bare fists or knives. After subduing them, I severed their Achilles tendons and carved long vertical gashes down their bodies to drag them along, marking the path back with their blood.
"P-Please spare me..." "Oh my! How shameless. After kidnapping children and beating them to death, that's what you have to say?"
Looking around, few of them bore the Black Round Table tattoo. Most seemed to be lowlifes and vagrants recruited as underlings. That didn't mean I felt any sympathy for those who got caught up in it, though.
"Please, at least my life..." "God, you're noisy." I drove my middle knuckle into his temple and killed him instantly. No need for such a noisy thread. I am Theseus, the one who will slay the Minotaur of this sewer labyrinth and claim the glory.
I licked the blood running down the back of my hand clean. They really had gathered quite the assortment of riffraff. Adventurers mixed in among them too—mercenaries, adventurers, assassins, vagrants, and thugs... No regard for gender or age. Women were mixed in, along with quite elderly figures and youths who had barely outgrown their boyhood. Not that any of that made killing them any harder.
With over fifty of them crammed into these narrow sewers, my clothes were soaked in blood. These were expensive clothes, too, and they weren't going to compensate me for the damage. What an absolute nuisance. On top of that, this disgusting sewer stench was seeping into the fabric. I'd have to throw them away. Even Professor Febreze couldn't get rid of the smell of blood and filth.
"Agh, this is pissing me off." Today was clearly going to be my worst day. I had a nightmare I didn't want to have, got pickpocketed on the street, witnessed children dying, and now my expensive clothes were drenched in blood and reeking of sewage. I'd have to make them pay dearly for this.
While I was fuming over how to extract that price, footsteps echoed from afar. I wasn't at the level of some legendary blind mercenary who could map terrain and movement from sound alone or determine an enemy's numbers and equipment by scent... but I could at least tell how many there were from the sound and guess their weapons from the smell. The number was definitely... five. And their weapons were, of course, steel swords... Though the iron scent mixed with blood made detailed analysis difficult.
They were about forty meters away... From the footsteps and smell, they were on a completely different level from the bugs I'd faced so far. Plus, unlike the narrow passages I'd been fighting in until now, this corridor had widened considerably, making it disadvantageous to fight with a knife. In battle, the first strike wins. Taking on five at once was a bit annoying, but a promise is a promise.
The ones who appeared were dressed in proper clothes, with Black Round Table emblems tattooed on their napes. Unlike the ragtag underlings, they radiated a fairly threatening aura. Had they sent only the most dangerous fighters to deal with me? If so, my answer was simple.
"Lightning, slither like a serpent." A bolt of lightning shaped like a snake split into five branches and shot forward at the speed of sound. But those bastards easily dodged the serpentine lightning.
"Ah, so we've reached the inner area. Not some trash monster, but actual decent fighters now." The distance was still in my favor. If I kept backing up while firing magic, I'd win. That's why ranged dealers have the advantage over melee dealers in PvP. Though I was limited in what magic I could use... I couldn't use fire, earth, steel, or wood magic that would damage the sewers. Even with other spells, I had to adjust their power and range... but I could still produce enough force to take five heads.
"Wind, become blades." I launched dozens of wind blades, but they deflected them and charged at me. Startled, my stance broke, and I ended up letting them close the distance. What magic could I use in this situation? Creating a shield of light would only be a stopgap, and using "Lightning, slither like a serpent" at close range would only claim one life at most. How could I take all five lives?
In the brief moment they charged with swords raised, time seemed to stretch endlessly. If I were in this situation, what would Master Machang Kuroki, Master Pokémon Master Ash, Master Black Wing General Tae-oh, Master Martial God Bruce Lee, Master Godslayer Jeon Gwang... no, not that bastard, Master Godslayer Kratos... what would they do? Then one of my teachers gave me advice. There was no need to only shoot lightning outward.
It was a spell an NPC had used in the game before, and while Werner had never used it, there was no reason he couldn't use magic an NPC could. "Lightning, become my armor." I wrapped lightning around my body. I'd protected myself with mana beforehand, but the electricity seeping into my flesh still stung. Still, compared to the electric torture training I'd endured as a child, this was bearable. I cloaked my hand in lightning and delivered a knife-hand strike to the neck of one who had approached.
But there was a problem—the power exceeded my expectations. I'd only meant to break his neck with the strike, but the lightning around my hand sliced through his neck like cutting tofu. Lightning Blade Cutter... The power was absolutely monstrous. I couldn't afford to marvel at it for long, though. There were still four more.
When one of their comrades lost his head, they backed off, regrouped, and began observing my movements. "Hey, your friend got done in that badly and you're running away? If you're gonna run, at least say 'Sorry...' or something. Running off without a word like that, you won't get chosen by the Crest of Friendship, you bastards." Of course, the one with the Crest of Friendship was that NTR bastard Golden Sun who stole his friend's girl. Thinking of him pissed me off, so I kicked the severed head on the ground toward them. A shot even Pelé would praise—four goalkeepers and none of them could stop it.
"Hey, rejecting your friend? Your friend's head is coming in for a kiss, and you're dodging? Did you guys bully him? Do you bastards live alone? You planned this trip together and then pulled a hidden camera prank where nobody showed up, you fucking bastards." Bullying, that shitty culture that supposedly came from Japan. I couldn't forgive them for ostracizing a friend like that. No matter the culture, you're taught to value friends. One of my masters also told me to value friends. "Even if we look different... we are all friends... Even if it was hard to meet... we are all friends..."
I charged at them wrapped in lightning. With my index finger, I pierced one bastard's neck. "Pika!!!" Three left... Unfortunately, I couldn't let them live. They swung their longswords at me, but at this close range they weren't very effective. I grabbed one iron sword and sent current through it, turning one into an electric roasted chicken. While another was startled and dropped his weapon, I slammed his head into the wall for a kiss. Now only one remained. He kept a moderate distance with his longsword raised. Close enough that magic was risky, but far enough that approaching was difficult. Then the lightning around my body vanished. Ah, the duration was quite short.
"Now that your fancy magic is gone, I'll cut you down." If I tried to use magic, I'd get hit right there... and fighting barehanded put me at an absolute disadvantage in reach. So I just threw my knife. Throwing weapons existed for moments like this. "...Cheap tricks!" He deflected the thrown knife but ended up allowing my approach. He never thought I could kill him with a knife in the first place. "Time to die." I twisted his neck. The feeling of twisting a person's neck was surprisingly pleasant. It was on a completely different level from twisting a chicken's neck. While savoring that pleasure, I was about to make a U-turn when... there was one more person. I thought he might be another one sent to deal with me, but that wasn't it. Carefully examining the back of his head... It was Ricardo Carven, Werner's comrade.