Thirin Laughed. "Khwahaha!" (1)
The temple was wrapped in silence. The only sound came from the bonfires crackling around the altar chamber. All that remained were Thirin's corpse and the headless priests. It was no longer a temple—it was a tomb. A sand-covered tomb where everything had weathered away into dust.
"......"
One of the revived priests staggered to his feet. He looked around at the empty coffins, then touched the faint cut mark on his own neck. It wasn't revival. Time itself had been rewound. The priest soon realized what had happened during the blank in his memory and ground his teeth.
"How dare these blasphemous wretches touch the offering—grrk."
The priest's words never finished. He stared at the blade piercing his neck from behind, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.
"The milk thieves sure love to run their mouths."
Thirin muttered as she severed the priest's head.
—Swish.
"......"
The priest collapsed without even a scream.
"Useless bastard. Didn't even give me any Physical Realization."
Thirin spat the curse under her breath. She flicked the blood from her sword and immediately put on the mask Klaus had peeled off earlier. A fresh mask sat in her bag, and the fallen one was soaked in the blood she'd vomited, but she wore it anyway. Thirin was addicted to masks. She was a veteran of the coronavirus era, after all.
"!"
A faint presence behind her. Her sharpened senses sent another warning.
—Whoosh.
Thirin reflexively threw herself aside. Another revived priest's sword sliced through the air where she had just been standing.
"Seriously, these worthless bastards don't give anything but they keep reviving and throwing tantrums?!"
Thirin spat out a thick curse. The pain of having her chest pierced without gaining any Physical Realization had genuinely pissed her off.
"Kuhk!"
The priests kept reviving one after another, but they were no match for Thirin—a seasoned bounty hunter armed with martial arts.
—Swish!
It was a pastoral scene of slaughter.
—Thud!Crunch!
Thirin, however, was annoyed. This was a meaningless loop. She was a modern person, and modern people despised pointless repetition. She had no desire to keep waiting for the priests to revive just to cut their heads off again.
"Get lost!"
Thirin refused to participate in this tedious factory-line slaughter any longer. She hacked the corpses' necks and limbs to pieces, then kicked the severed parts in every direction. Expressionless faces sprayed blood as they flew through the air. The sight of heads and limbs soaring about was so absurd it almost looked cheerful.
Thirin growled.
Do I have to keep doing this? How long?
She suddenly recalled what Klaus had said earlier.
What was it again? Right, that's it.
The most basic method of purification: fire.
Thirin considered burning the bodies, then stopped. There was a can of oil in the bag she'd tossed by the door, but this was a sealed temple with poor ventilation. Setting a fire here would only lead to suffocation. Thirin herself wouldn't die from it, but there was no need to endure the pain of choking.
"Tsk."
Thirin kicked over a nearby bonfire and pressed the burning charcoal and fallen torches against the severed surfaces of the corpses.
"......"
A horrific smell and the sound of sizzling flesh filled the air.
"Should've done this from the start."
Thirin grumbled. If she'd started this way, she wouldn't have had to suffer pointless chest piercings without gaining any Physical Realization. Though, in the chaos, she hadn't exactly had the luxury of thinking that far ahead.
"......!"
Something caught Thirin's keen senses. She quickly pointed her sword.
"......"
One of the legs she'd kicked away rolled back and bumped repeatedly against the torso, as if trying to reattach itself. Whether because the cut surfaces were burned or because of Klaus's "purification," it only twitched futilely.
"...Kuhk!"
Watching the scene, Thirin hurriedly covered her mouth.
"Ugh......!"
She forced her lips shut, desperately holding back the sound trying to escape.
No. I can't.
It wasn't nausea.
I can't laugh at something like this. People have standards. Laughing at corpses would make me look like a real crazy bitch.
Thirin believed she was normal. Believing herself normal, she kicked the twitching leg once more, sending it flying into a corner.
"Puhup....!"
Thirin covered her mouth again as she watched the flying leg continue to twitch.
Sad thoughts, sad thoughts, sob sob, I'm sad, so sad. So sad I can't drink cola. Sob sob.
Thirin took a deep breath.
"......Hoo. Good."
After dealing with every threat inside and out, Thirin approached the closed door.
"......"
She pressed her ear against it. It was quiet beyond. With her level of perception, she didn't actually need to do this, but she did it anyway—just in case.
Thirin stared blankly at the door.
What happened to that idiot stick? I told him to take the kids and run, so he probably did. That would be best for him, the children, and even for me.
"......"
Standing still before the door, an unfamiliar emotion began to bloom in a corner of her chest. What should she call it? It almost felt like... disappointment.
"......"
Thirin shook her head. Her mental fortitude was as solid as steel. She was unshakable. In any case, she couldn't afford to waste time here. Thirin rummaged through the bag beside her.
"Tsk."
She clicked her tongue. The acid had been used down to the very last drop. If she'd been careful, one bottle might have melted the door twice, but the situation had been far too urgent for such calculations.
Thirin suddenly recalled Klaus's words.
Mind's Eye, huh......
Some kind of ability that calculates everything? Like augmented reality?
"Status Window, can't you do something like that?"
The Status Window remained silent.
Useless Status Window. What are we supposed to do if fantasy land falls behind? Maybe this fantasy land was more advanced than the modern world...
Thirin pushed away the self-threatening thought. It was fine. She still had one method left to open the door.
Poison Core.
Thirin frowned. Honestly, she didn't like this ability very much. It was nice that the Poison Core absorbed toxins and made her immune to all poisons, but the problem was expelling the contents. Making a beauty with 180 charm spit like a hydralisk? That wasn't exactly elegant by Thirin's aesthetic standards. It wasn't the kind of behavior expected of a mysterious beauty with 180 charm.
Of course, the real culprit dragging down Thirin's charm stat was her own tongue. If she'd just kept her mouth shut, she would've broken past 200 charm long ago. The Tongue Woman who brings about the end of the world—that was Thirin.
"...."
Thirin kept hesitating in front of the door. Poison Core. Yes. The problem was the Poison Core. The Poison Core was a product of the martial arts DLC. Did that mean martial artists in murim also used Poison Core by spitting like hydralisks? It was far too undignified compared to the murim she imagined. There had to be another way. Thirin couldn't grasp what that other method might be right now.
Just as Thirin was lingering indecisively before the door......
"......!"
Thirin reflexively gripped her sword and spun around. Behind her, at the central altar, something was crawling out. Thirin lowered her stance and rushed toward the altar.
—Shhhhhh.
The sand on the altar floor writhed as if alive, gathering into one spot. The sand soon formed a faint human shape. Thirin muttered at the sight.
"......I only hesitated for a second. Isn't this a bit much?"
She soon chuckled.
"Well, it wouldn't be right without a boss fight. The final boss has to show up."
Thirin adjusted her grip on the sword and crept toward the altar. The sand figure made no movement. It simply stood there, fully formed yet utterly still.
...First strike wins.
Thirin began running her mouth preemptively.
"So the Milk Thief Constellation has finally appeared. I guess it's national law for the final boss to show up in places like this. I'd have been disappointed if you didn't."
"......"
"But your symbol being a sand bottle and then appearing as a sand head? Don't you think that's too cliché and lazy? Sand humans don't even show up as movie villains these days."
"......"
"Sorry, I was wrong. Now that I think about it, milk powder is powder and sand is powder too. The guardian deity of the baby formula thief manifesting as sand was inevitable and necessary."
"......"
"Yeah, it's only natural that the divine object of the secret milk-guzzler is sand. A very fitting symbol. I fully acknowledge it."
Thirin wasn't speaking without purpose. She was launching a Logic Attack and Voice Attack to cloud the opponent's mind. On top of that, she had activated her dual-core Twofold Mind Art.
Purify with fire. There's only one oil can. I can't mess this up.
She carefully observed everything from the corner of her eye—the proper throwing force for the oil can, the right timing to shatter it midair, the position of the fallen torch. Thirin wanted to skip the forced event before it could trigger.
But the sand god gave no reaction to her words. Thirin moved slowly as she spoke.
"Boring. Say something, won't you?"
"Girl."
"What grievance makes you carry poison on your tongue?"
A deep, ancient voice of indiscernible gender. Not human.
"......!"
Thirin fell silent. The voice itself was grotesque, but that wasn't the issue. The content it carried was the problem. That she was aggrieved. That she carried poison on her tongue because of that grievance.
"......"
Thirin felt as though she'd been struck right in the heart. And that fact irritated her immensely.
"......As expected, a god is different from some brat. You actually know how to shut someone's mouth."
Thirin felt the mask, sticky with blood, and lifted it slightly to spit on the floor.
"Girl."
"What do you fear so much that you cover your mouth?"
"......What?"
Thirin gritted her teeth.
"......Fear? Me?"
The reason Thirin covered her mouth. It was because of her 180 charm. 180 charm was excessively high. If Thirin walked around with her face exposed, she'd draw everyone's attention. No—that wouldn't be the end of it. 180 charm was a disaster for ordinary people. It was Thirin's merciful consideration—to avoid unnecessary interest and prevent ordinary humans from losing sleep over her...
"......"
That wasn't it. If that were the case, there would be no reason to wear this sticky, unpleasant mask even when no one else was around. Thirin covered her mouth for a different reason. Only after the sand god pointed it out could she recognize the true reason.
She was afraid. Afraid of losing what she had barely regained.
The small, red lump of flesh.
"...Damn it."
Thirin spat the curse between her teeth.
"I didn't know there were psychiatrists in fantasy land. If you're that good at psychoanalysis, you should've managed your followers better. Because you raised your kids with neglect, they grew up into these limbless freaks, didn't they?"
It was an ancient cliché that experts made a mess of their own boundaries—their homes, companies, shops, restaurants. But that was a mistake humans made. A god should do better.
Thirin kept running her mouth.
"You're exactly that. Pretending to be some great educator while dumping your own kids at an orphanage. Do you even have a medical license? Even if you did, it should be revoked."
"Girl."
"You don't even know what you've lost."
"Shut up!"
Thirin was sick of the riddles.
"If you're not going to give me Physical Realization, just die!"
Thirin hurled the oil can. The bottle flew through the air. Oil sprayed over the sand mass along with the tip of her sword. Her blade pierced straight through the sand figure. Now if she just lit the fire......
"Poor girl."
"I shall grant you what you desire."
"...!"
Thirin's vision went black.