The Secret Room (4)

Werewolf.

In Song of Sword and Magic, the creature had two defining traits.

The first was its Hard Skin — the product of a body bristling with coarse, iron-tough fur. It carried both Physical Resistance (Low) and Magical Resistance (Low), which meant neither knights nor mages could chip away at its HP with any ease.

The second was Howling, cast the moment its HP dropped below ten percent. The roar blasted fear across a wide area, locking allies out of control for a stretch of time.

That was why the original boss fight hinged almost entirely on the player's control. Damage barely stuck, and even after you'd ground its health down, a single fear proc could flip the fight and get you wrecked on the counter. The key was for both DPS and tank to know exactly what they were doing and clear it clean.

But this boss fight was different. Originally, only the protagonist entered the Martial Arts Manual of the Library. This time, I was here with her. That meant we could angle for a cleaner clear.

"What should we do?"

"We split roles. I'll take the front line — you put out the damage."

"Isn't that backwards? You're from the Mage Department, aren't you, senior?"

"I'm a bit of a freak."

There was no need for one person to shoulder both DPS and tank. If I held the werewolf's aggro, Isolet just had to carve down its HP.

Of course, her doubt was fair.

She probably still thinks of me as a mage.

When a knight and a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mage teamed up, the knight usually tanked. Handing the damage role to Isolet — a Knight Department student — was bound to feel strange.

"Don't worry. We've got a shot."

Besides, I couldn't use magic anyway. This was the right call.

I stepped in close and murmured a quick rundown of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fight plan into her ear. She startled slightly at the sudden whisper, then nodded without a word of protest. Once I'd settled her nerves, I took a single step forward.

In that instant, the werewolf opened its eyes.

—Awooooo……

A wolf's cry. The beast heaved its sleeping bulk upright. Rising onto two legs, it gained a shocking amount of height — roughly three heads taller than me — and split its mouth into a jagged grin. Mocking me, most likely. Standing out front empty-handed must have looked pretty arrogant.

Another step forward.

I loosened up. Every muscle in my body relaxed in a flash; blood surged faster through my veins. I sharpened every sense so I could react the second it closed in. Out of the corner of my eye I caught ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Isolet sliding off to the side, hand settling on her sword hilt — and I crooked my fingers at the werewolf.

A little beckoning flick.

"Come on, doggy."

It might not understand the words, but the tone got through. The werewolf bared its teeth.

CRACK. Both of its feet slammed into the floor. Like a man charging in, it cocked its upper body at an angle — then

—AWOOO!

—and exploded forward, straight at me.

In Song of Sword and Magic, werewolves surprisingly rarely used their claws. They fought with that muscular frame the way a person would — pure brawling.

WHOOSH! The sound of flesh cutting air. The werewolf's fist rocketed toward me, easily two or three times the size of my own. Anyone watching would have bet money I'd go tumbling across the floor the second we collided. The werewolf clearly thought the same —

BOOM!

—but that future never arrived.

"……Hah."

—Awl?

My short exhale, then the werewolf's confused yelp. Its eyes flew wide, as if it couldn't begin to process what had just happened.

Trembling — our fists locked and strained against each other. By sheer size, mine shouldn't have stood a chance. And yet my fist held firm, matching it blow for blow.

No. More than that.

—……Awl!

My fist was driving its fist upward……!

Grasping the situation, the werewolf yanked its punch back. It had been trying to break my stance, but it didn't work. I pulled my own hand in and reset my footing.

What followed was pure fistfighting.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM, BOOM!

"Hup!"

—Awoooo!

The werewolf threw punches — right to left, left straight down the middle, high to center. I met every line with a punch of my own. Not one exchange lost on power. Every attack cut clean.

All thanks to the Ultimate Physique.

Notification messages flickered up along the edge of my vision. They stacked in rapid succession without getting in the way, reporting the state of my body in real time. Even mid-exchange, my stats were climbing.

BOOM! KA-BOOM, BOOM!

The barrage of fists kept coming. Neither of us gave ground. But at this rate, no decisive hit would land. Neither of us had a sure finishing blow —

"Haaah!"

—……Awl?!

SHING!

A sword cut opened across the werewolf's right calf. Isolet's work. It wasn't deep, though. The dense coat of coarse fur kept her from shaving off much HP.

Same as in the original.

The werewolf had Physical Resistance (Low) and Magical Resistance (Low). Early-game protagonists always burned a long time taking it down. Later in the story, this boss fight was what pushed the protagonist to invent a finishing technique.

Either way, just like in the game, Isolet's attack wasn't a killing blow.

But that was fine.

—Awooo…… awl?!

Furious, the beast started to turn on Isolet — only for my fist to slam into its ribs at once. Even with the coarse fur soaking the hit, it couldn't ignore that kind of damage. I hit hard enough for that.

Aggro snapped back to me. I raised my fists to meet its renewed assault. Keep the exchange going long enough, and Isolet would naturally find another opening and dive back in.

SHING!

—Awooo!

After several rounds of that same loop, the werewolf's body was dripping blood.

—Awl, awl……

Bloodshot, gleaming beast eyes. Even cornered, the werewolf's fighting spirit refused to die. Drool spilled from its muzzle as it tipped its head back toward the sky.

Now.

Howling was coming.

Isolet's heart was pounding harder than it ever had in her life.

I'm exhilarated.

Her first real battle. Facing a monster that looked overwhelmingly strong to a freshly enrolled student — a werewolf — and she was holding her own better than she'd dared hope.

BOOM, BOOM-BOOM!

Fists collided. The shockwaves were so massive it was hard to believe a human body had produced them. Against that thunderous backdrop, Isolet held her breath and set her stance.

Her target was the werewolf's thigh. The height difference made it hard to reach — but an Upper Slash should do it.

SHING!

Just as she'd planned, a clean cut opened across the thigh. She'd lost count of how many times she'd struck by now. Alone, she never could have created openings like these.

……He's incredible.

That senior kept astonishing her. There was no end to the things worth admiring.

Holding his ground against the werewolf without yielding an inch was already staggering enough.

Once its stamina starts to fail, it will definitely cast Howling. If you know that ahead of time, you can move a little faster — so remember it.

How does he understand a werewolf's habits so thoroughly?

Because he was a second-year? But even for that, he carried far too much seasoned weight.

Whatever the reason, Isolet steadied herself exactly as Heracle had told her. The werewolf's condition was turning ugly. Streaming red blood, trembling, it lifted its muzzle high.

Here it comes!

Having already been warned, she drew a deep breath. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No matter how horrific the roar, she would not let it shake her —

—AWOOOOOOOOO!!!

"……!"

She couldn't even manage a gasp. The air filling Isolet's lungs locked solid. Breath that couldn't escape stalled in place, and the Howling that tore into her ears froze her body completely.

Th-this is……!

Worse than she'd imagined. Heracle's warning had let her brace for it — but shaking free of the lock with that alone was still beyond her.

Every muscle cell had seized at once. Nothing obeyed. The only things still moving were her eyes, blue irises darting as she took in the scene.

And then —

"……."

The werewolf was charging straight at her. It had figured out who the weak link was. Toward Isolet, the one who had been carving it open this whole time, it raised that massive fist toward the sky.

And just as it started to bring the blow down —

"Not happening."

A man stepped in front of her.

Tall. Solidly built. A physique that didn't suit a mage at all. But he'd come in so fast he hadn't set his stance. At this rate he was in real danger — high odds of taking the werewolf's fist and going down.

For a split second, she felt their eyes meet. Heracle's gaze found Isolet. She couldn't force a single word out, but the question she was asking came through crystal clear.

Why?

Why save her? Why put himself in front of her like this?

Heracle's answer was simple.

He said it with the corner of his mouth curling up just slightly. And that expression drove itself straight into Isolet's chest.

For Heracle, it was pure logic. Better he take the hit than have Isolet — the protagonist — retire in a place like this. Far better for pushing the story forward. An entirely rational calculation —

"……Ah."

—but none of that reached Isolet in the slightest. Some unnameable feeling rose in her, and she let out a quiet breath she hoped no one would notice.

For some reason, her heart was racing. Different from the thrill of combat.

……The stirring of some other emotion entirely.

WHOOSH!

But time moved on without regard for Isolet's heart. Just as the werewolf's fist started to drop toward Heracle —

"Point Burst!"

The sword cuts carved all over the werewolf's body. The wounds Isolet herself had driven in. Through the splits in that coarse-furred hide, mana began to writhe —

KA-BOOOOM!

—and flame magic detonated from those points, roasting the werewolf where it stood.

—Awooooo……

Reduced to a lump of charcoal, the werewolf let out one last cry. It became its death rattle — and then it crumbled to ash and vanished.

"What— what was that?! What just happened?! I just threw some magic and hoped for the best — did I do okay?!"

From behind Isolet and Heracle, back down the corridor they'd come through, someone came pounding toward them at a full sprint.

A mage with bright red hair in twin tails.

Irina Eletal's super save.