Catacomb (3)

The 6-star Butcher had a sagging gut and muscles puffed up like balloons pumped full of air, but he was a lot faster than he looked.

Kuuoooooh—!

"Hup!"

Faster than expected, sure — but still slower than me. I sucked in a deep breath and rolled sideways, slipping past his charge.

KWA-GWA-GWANG—!

The Butcher barreled through the spot where I'd been standing and slammed straight into the zombie monsters behind me. They went flying in every direction like bowling pins clipped by a speeding ball.

The ones that hit him had their limbs torn apart by the sheer force of the impact. The Butcher himself didn't have a scratch on him.

There was a massive gap between a mid-boss and ordinary zombie trash.

Kuuooooh—!

Even after pulping his own underlings with his hands — no, with that gut of his — the Butcher only had eyes for me. What passionate courtship. Fucking disgusting.

He came at me again. Not a charge this time.

His flesh might have been rotting, but apparently his brain hadn't gone with it. He closed in slowly. He'd figured out that rushing in like an idiot wasn't going to catch me.

Quick learner.

For a monster, the Butcher was on the smarter side.

Kuuoh—!

He raised his massive cleaver and pointed it at me. The skeletons and zombies nearby shuffled in behind my back. The intent rolled off him in waves — he was sealing my escape.

"Look at this son of a bitch."

I smiled and glanced at the rest of the party. They still hadn't finished off all the monsters. I needed to buy more time.

What now?

The Butcher was a lot smarter than I'd expected. Worried that the ones attacking me might open a gap, he'd locked the ones forming the wall in place and told them not to move.

Can I do this?

I summoned a sword from my inventory, ready to throw down with him soul to soul. Jumping the wall of corpses and bones and running was an option. I just didn't want to.

If I ran, his aggro might swing over to the others.

Gotta do it.

No. That wasn't actually why.

Heh. Heheh! I'm doing this.

I just wanted to go all-in against the Butcher in a fight to the death. Why was I having a thought that stupid? Probably because I'd been rolling around in a nest of corpses for five days straight.

I just wanted to see that giant walking carcass lying still on the floor again, unable to move.

The corners of my mouth kept twitching upward. Picturing that pig bastard dead made my crotch grow heavy.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must have looked incredibly grotesque right now. If the party saw this face, they'd feel something was off.

Can't have that.

The party — no. Aquaril and Oralisa would be fine seeing me like this. They were my fairies. They could never leave my side. They were the kind of fairies who'd slaughter right alongside me even if I went around massacring the powerless.

But Kanisia was different.

She was a Master like me. We were close enough to mix our bodies on a regular basis, but she was still a Master with a will of her own.

Kanisia ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could look at this face, feel something crawl under her skin, get disappointed, and decide to walk away.

Can't have that.

Damn right I can't.

Kanisia must never leave my side. After everything I'd invested in her? And that ripe body of hers, on top of it all?

Which meant I had to hide the face that had twisted into a murderer's. Kanisia couldn't be allowed to notice that something was wrong with me.

What could I use to cover it?

Ah. Right. I had a mask.

Back when I'd cleared the dungeon in Chinnimoni, I'd picked up a 2-star Common-grade Clown Mask. The effect was garbage, so I'd used it once and shoved it in my inventory to rot.

Let's see… found it.

I dug through my inventory, pulled the Clown Mask out, and put it on.

Good.

Time to go wild.

Ah, fuck.

The hell was this?

I waved the irritating windows out of my face and charged the Butcher. Right now, he was the only thing I could see.

"Hah!"

The instant Kanisia thrust her spear, the mana javelins hovering behind her back shot forward and tore into the zombie monsters.

Even Kanisia's ordinary attacks carried the Light attribute, which made them lethal against Dark-attribute undead. A skill strike from a Mana Javelinier, with its attack power jacked through the roof by her class, was something else entirely.

Thuk-thuk-thuk-thuk-thuk—!

Five zombies went down at once. The ones with holes punched clean through their torsos didn't get back up.

How many left?

Having cleared another cluster, Kanisia swept the area — and bit her lip.

Still so many.

She'd thought she'd killed a huge number already, but about thirty were still standing. Worse, around twenty of those had ringed Alan, who was fighting the mid-boss alone.

My mana's starting to…

She checked what she had left and frowned. It was a little short of what she'd need to finish the remaining monsters and then deal with the mid-boss on top of that.

I need to get to Alan.

Because he'd given up the Growth Stones, her stats — and everyone else's in the party — had shot up. There weren't many people on the continent of Gaiarium who'd grown that fast.

Which also meant Alan's own stats hadn't climbed nearly as much.

Tanking a mid-boss by himself had to be crushing. She needed to get over there.

Alan is… huh?

She turned her head to check on him, and froze.

Kuuoh—! Kuuoot—! Kuuoooooh—!

"Kyahahahaha!"

"…He's fighting well?"

Alan was slipping the Butcher's massive cleaver with the smallest possible movements. When there was no angle left to dodge, he swung his sword and knocked the blade aside.

His Strength had to be higher than she'd thought. When steel met steel, he didn't even budge.

Shhk—!

Kuuoooooh—!

"Kiiiyooooot! Uwahahahaha!"

He didn't stop at defense. He slashed that sagging gut, fired off Wind Arrow, and counterattacked even while focused on evasion. The damage wasn't much — but being able to hit back at all in a fight like that mattered.

"…Abraham! Round them up, now!"

"Yes, Master! Move it, you rotting bastards! Faster!"

Alan was holding his own, but it was a tightrope. One mistake and his life was forfeit.

They had to get to him.

Kanisia pushed the party harder and kept cutting monsters down.

"Kyahahahahaha!"

"…..?"

But why was he fighting with a laugh like that…?

"Master. I have a question, if I may."

"What is it, Zoldik?"

Zoldik had been standing as still as a statue. When he suddenly spoke, Montblanc looked at him with genuine curiosity. Of all her fairies, he was the most taciturn. If she didn't address him first, he almost never opened his mouth.

So when he did, she was intrigued.

"Is there a reason you lent Master Alan Han the Catacomb?"

"Oh my? You were curious about that? It seems Zoldik is more interested in Alan than I thought."

"He is someone Master has taken an interest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in. That is why."

"Is that truly all?"

"…."

His Master's languid, catlike gaze pinned him, and Zoldik shut his mouth. Montblanc's smile only deepened. Under a look that felt like it could peel him open, he quietly turned his eyes away.

Was he interested in Alan? Of course he was.

Zoldik was a fairy. A fairy who would crave his Master's love until the day he died.

Montblanc had many fairies besides him. Zoldik wanted her love all to himself.

And then someone had appeared who drew her attention. Alan.

If it were up to him, he would have killed the man so quietly that not even a mouse or a bird would know. But he could not lay a hand on a "toy" his Master was interested in. Do that, and he might lose her love entirely.

And yet Montblanc had handed Alan the Catacomb. Zoldik had wondered if that meant her interest was cooling.

He had a reason to think so. The Catacomb was a dungeon with a vicious death rate. Even Palos's Bird had lost a great many members trying to clear it.

Part of that was the monsters scaling up because teams had entered over the maximum party size — but that wasn't the only reason people died. Most of the operatives who went into the Catacomb and never came out had been killed by their own teammates.

That was the work of the dungeon's boss: the 6-star Gigaesingwan.

Gigaesingwan had a truly vile ability. It could reach across rooms and floors and drop a mental-type debuff on a single person inside the dungeon.

It amplified negative emotion and dragged every buried desire up to the surface.

If someone you already disliked was in the party, the hatred swelled until you wanted them dead. If someone you secretly longed for was there, you would slaughter everyone around you and take them by force.

And if the afflicted died, the debuff jumped to someone else on the spot. No cooldown. Entire raid teams had been wiped by their own people because of it.

Zoldik had suffered through the Catacomb himself, and he hated the place for it.

Which was exactly why he suspected Montblanc had sent Alan there because her interest in the man had started to fade.

"I'm curious, you see."

"Pardon?"

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked back at his Master. Montblanc was still smiling.

"I'm curious how strong he'll become. And I'm curious how far he'll go. Chei's eye for people was right. Alan — that man is hiding a great deal."

Having lived at least twice as long as most, Montblanc had known the moment she saw him that Alan possessed a special ability. She didn't know precisely what it was, but her Insight had told her he was carrying a powerful weapon.

"If I keep driving him into a corner, I'll find out what he's been concealing."

"…I see."

Zoldik didn't let it show, but her answer sat in his gut like acid.

The Catacomb was Alan's second test. And if she was still testing him, it meant her interest hadn't cooled at all.

"…."

"Heehee."

As if that had been the end of his curiosity, Zoldik closed his mouth again. Montblanc laughed softly at him and picked her documents back up.

I hope he dies in there.

Zoldik hoped the man his Master had taken an interest in would not walk out of the Catacomb alive.

The massive cleaver came down from above.

Could I dodge it?

I could.

So where?

Back would work. Sideways would work too.

I didn't go either way.

Slick— shhk—!

Kuuoooooh—!

I stepped forward, slipped inside the cleaver's arc, and carved the Butcher's flank in the same motion. The fat was so thick the blade didn't go deep — but rotten blood still welled out of the cut. His side stung, and he roared in fury.

"Kyahahahaha!"

That enraged howl hit me as hard as Aquaril's and Oralisa's moans. My crotch went heavy. Fuck. I hadn't even put it in anything and I already felt like I was going to come.

More. More. More.

The Butcher swung a kick. Catch that and I'd go flying like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a soccer ball. I had to dodge.

But he was full of openings. I wanted to drive the sword into that one. I wanted to cut him and watch him lose his mind.

So I'd dodge and hit him at the same time.

"Hahahahaha!"

I jumped, cleared the kick, and slashed downward as I came over it. Shhk—! The blade bit into his thigh. Unlike that fat-packed gut, there wasn't much padding on his legs. I got a nice, deep cut.

Kuuoooooot—!

The Butcher lurched and swept the cleaver in a wide, limping arc. This time I ducked. The blade howled over my head. Another centimeter and it would have taken my hair. The thrill was electric.

"Kakakakaka! You think you can kill me like that? If you don't want to die, then hurry up and kill me! Kill me, you pig bastard!"

Kuuoooooh—!

I couldn't hold the laughter in.

So I didn't.

I laughed and hacked at him wildly. Rotten blood spattered across the Clown Mask.

God, this was fun.