Chapter 121: The Lord is With Us (42)
Chapter 121: The Lord is With Us (42)
Seven men and women stood before the path leading out of the cave, their faces tight with tension.
To be precise, five were standing, while two women were being carried in the arms of Senior Delphine and Celine, respectively.
It was worth noting that both of the women being carried wore expressions of profound dissatisfaction. Conversely, the two women holding them looked quite pleased with the arrangement.
Regardless of their moods, I closed my eyes and focused entirely on sensing our surroundings. The moment I felt the cluster of Flesh Seeds move even a fraction further away, I let out a shout.
"Run!"
Immediately, the collective sound of boots slamming against the earth rang out. Five figures lunged forward, their forms blurring as they compressed the distance in an instant.
That was the signal.
Grotesque shrieks erupted from behind us.
I could feel them—the sensation of things crawling frantically out of the pit. It sounded as if dozens of Flesh Seeds were digging their claws into the slope.
Their speed was unimaginable compared to their previously sluggish movements. As if struck by lightning, the Flesh Seeds began to pursue us with terrifying velocity.
Fortunately, they didn't seem particularly intelligent. Many appeared to be slipping on the incline, as not a single one had managed to crest the top yet.
Just as I thought we had successfully opened up a gap—
One Flesh Seed scrambled out of the pit, trampling over the bodies of its own kind.
It had no eyes. I could only guess it was glaring at us by the direction its face was turned. After a fleeting moment of silence, the creature twisted its entire body and began to sprint. Its bizarre howl struck the cave walls, echoing thunderously.
It was incredibly fast. Even with my leg power reinforced by mana, I could see the distance between us closing by the second.
At this rate, we would certainly be caught from behind. Senior Delphine was currently carrying Senior Elsie, leaving me as the only one at the rear capable of responding.
"I'll handle it, so keep running!"
The group hesitated for a moment, but at my repeated urging, they had no choice but to keep moving with uncertain steps.
At that exact moment, a Flesh Seed lunged.
It was a strike delivered with a speed as terrifying as its sprint. Black liquid dripped from its claws, which had grown long and jagged.
Sizzle.
The stone floor melted where the liquid touched it. I realized what it was instantly.
"These bastards have acidic poison!"
I shouted the information to the group just in case. Simultaneously, I raised my sword and parried the creature's claws.
Clang!
Sparks flew into the air, along with the poison streaming from the creature's nails.
The black droplets that splattered seemed to be highly acidic. I wasn't particularly curious to find out exactly how potent they were.
My vision expanded. The space was mapped out, and as I pulled at it as if tearing it away, the surroundings distorted.
Droplets of poison passed by my body in warped parabolas. My blade did not miss the opening.
With a clean, sharp sound, one of the Flesh Seed's arms was severed. The creature let out a piteous shriek toward the ceiling, but it was already too late.
A silver line of light embedded itself into its neck.
It was a magnificent cut. From that sword path, drawn along the optimal trajectory, a spray of crimson blood erupted.
The monster's head went rolling across the ground.
For a creature supposedly from the Mythical Era, it wasn't as much of a threat as I'd expected. I let out a sigh of relief.
Then again, I was now a powerhouse even among the third-year Academy students.
Even if I narrowed the comparison to knights, I was among the elite. No matter how much the armies of the Mythical Era feared these monsters, they couldn't stand against me one-on-one.
Or so I thought.
Crunch.
I felt a grip on my ankle, squeezing hard enough to crush bone. Startled, my eyes searched the ground.
It was the severed arm of the Flesh Seed. Despite being separated from the body, it was still receiving some form of motive power.
Fortunately, it couldn't swing its claws, likely because it had lost its sense of direction. That was a relief; if I had been touched by the poison, it would have been the end of me.
Of course, that didn't mean I was out of danger.
Flailing, the torso of the Flesh Seed attempted to attack me with its remaining arm. I gritted my teeth and brought my sword down on the wrist gripping my ankle.
The hand released me in a reflexive response to the pain. I quickly backed away, unleashing two more strikes to lop off the creature's remaining limbs one by one.
In the end, the Flesh Seed was left with nothing but a single leg.
Unable to even maintain its balance, the creature collapsed. Yet, as it crawled stubbornly across the floor in an attempt to kill me, I felt a chilling sense of horror.
And beyond that, I felt a throbbing sensation.
It was a strange exhilaration. An intuition of intense color that kept filling and emptying my mind.
My eyes instinctively drifted toward the Flesh Seed's head.
It was still twitching, struggling to return to its body. Its movements were entirely different from the severed limbs.
That thing is the core.
Realizing this, I strode forward and drove my blade deep into the center of the head.
A piercing, shriek-like scream erupted. After a long moment of wailing and trembling, the Flesh Seed's body finally went still.
It was over. The Flesh Seed was dead.
All that was left was to leave.
But for some reason, I found myself hesitating.
It was an inexplicable premonition.
The pounding of my heart echoed in my head. Some kind of primal instinct refused to let me go.
Eventually, I turned back. I walked slowly and knelt down.
The Flesh Seed's head remained on the ground, clearly marked by the puncture wound from my blade.
Blood and brain matter were oozing out of the gap. Yet, amazingly, the head was still moving.
It wasn't a full movement, but a sound was definitely leaking out.
It was as if it were pleading for something.
"…! …!"
A voice, muffled by the lumpy growths, echoed hollowly.
With trembling hands, I channeled Aura into my blade. With the mindset of a surgeon performing an abdominal incision, I began to peel away the flesh of the head.
My heart raced. Gloomy memories began to intermingle. Voices buzzed in my ears.
They were all death throes. I bit my lip, unable to identify the source of the voices.
After a while—
My blade finally stopped. The thing inside the lumpy mass finally revealed itself.
It was the face of a child. Covered in a network of grotesque, multicolored veins, the child was weeping tears of blood.
"K-kill... me... Kieeeek! P-please... kill me...!"
Every time the veins pulsed, the child emitted the sound of a monster.
My body froze.
At the sight of the child's face, my mind went white with shock. The pounding of my heart reached a crescendo.
Snap.
The sound of something breaking echoed.
It was inside my head.
*
Several minutes passed, but Ian did not catch up.
The group, pacing back and forth in worry, eventually chose to turn back the way they had come.
There, they saw the severed limbs of the monster scattered about. As expected of Ian, he had taken down a monster of myth in that short span of time.
Relief washed over their faces, but it was quickly replaced by confusion.
The atmosphere surrounding Ian, who was kneeling and staring down at something, was unsettling.
It was so heavy that they hesitated to even ask a question. A dark, oppressive air seemed to weigh down on his shoulders.
Sensing something ominous, the group slowly approached to see what Ian was looking at.
They froze. The Saintess and Celine even widened their eyes and covered their mouths with both hands.
It was that horrific. The sight of a child's face, left alone amidst a pile of flesh, weeping blood from bloodshot eyes.
"Please... kill me..."
Crack.
The sound of a skull being crushed rang out. Only then did the child's bloody tears stop.
It was the hand axe. Ian, having shattered the child's fragile skull, finally stood up.
He remained silent for a long time.
At this rate, they would soon have to face the pursuing Flesh Seeds. Celine, who was closest to Ian, was about to force herself to speak when—
"...It's already too late."
A strangely weary voice reached them. At his solemn tone, Celine reflexively flinched and took a step back.
Even then, Ian kept his back to the group, not even sparing them a glance.
He simply issued a low command.
"Everyone, prepare for battle. About ten are approaching."
As if on cue, grotesque wails drifted from the darkness beyond. At the shrieks drawing closer by the second, the group shuddered but instinctively readied themselves for combat.
Ian hung the hand axe back on his belt. A voice, squeezed through gritted teeth, overflowed with rage.
"...I'm going to kill every single one of them today, those bastards."
A brilliant silver Aura flared up, and from the darkness, a Flesh Seed lunged toward Ian.
It was the beginning of the slaughter.