Chapter 272: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (65)
Chapter 272: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (65)
Blood obscures my vision.
My body, having run and run, was burning hot.
The blizzard and freezing wind lashed my skin like whips, but my muscles never faltered, unleashing a fierce barrage of sword strikes.
Flesh and bone fragments scattered.
My sword pierced straight through a flesh chunk blocking my path. For the one clinging to my side, I fed it my hand axe.
If any still dared to approach, I poured mana into my blade until it hummed.
My Aura blazed like a wildfire.
Brilliant silver extended lines across the world.
The flesh chunks touched by that Aura couldn't even offer a hint of resistance.
Severed body parts fell in heaps, twitching with a repulsive rhythm.
I stepped forward, crushing the remains underfoot.
As I ran and ran, my breath eventually reached its limit.
The air I gasped for was freezing.
My vision blurred, and my lungs were screaming. My entire body creaked, demanding rest.
The wound on my abdomen?
It had long since burst, soaking me in blood.
However, I finally realized the situation had changed.
The flesh chunks were no longer lunging at me.
Instead, the ground shook with violent, thumping tremors.
Leaning on my knees and panting, I turned my gaze toward the sky.
Something was flying toward me from beyond the looming shadows.
At first, I thought it was a meteor.
But it was a massive fist composed of countless corpses.
A single corpse, peeking out from between the writhing arms, was weeping tears of blood.
The suffering soul let out a shriek.
Kieeeeeeeek!
I locked eyes with it and let out a hollow laugh.
Seeing how it charged at me without warning, it clearly wasn't cut out to be a noble.
That actually made it better.
I didn't know how to fight with grace, either.
Gritting my teeth, I mapped out the space with bloodshot eyes.
Bizarre trajectories were etched into my vision. I endured the pain in my eyes as I stared at the myriad of threads.
I was seeing more, bit by bit.
The more ragged my breath became, the more my body wailed, and the more every nerve ending screamed in agony.
The boundary between reality and memory grew increasingly blurred.
I had to steal a look at more—just a little more.
I tore at the threads of spacetime with everything I had.
Like strings on an instrument snapping, the lines recoiled wildly.
And in the next moment.
Boom! An impact like an earthquake swept through the surroundings.
I thought I heard the distant screams of women.
But I was still safe.
The Corpse Giant's fist missed me, following an irrational trajectory.
It was a narrow margin, but it didn't matter.
As long as I was breathing, it was enough.
I quickly threw myself forward and clung to the Corpse Giant's wrist. Grabbing one of the hundreds of flailing arms, I used it as leverage to leap again.
Once atop the Corpse Giant's arm, I kept running.
Of course, the Corpse Giant didn't just stay still.
This was an arm made of thousands of corpses. Thousands of hands clamored and reached out to seize me.
Each time, I hacked them away with my sword and axe.
Yet the corpses blocking my path were endless.
The arms clumped together to form another monster. It was a separate limb made entirely of arms, branching out like the boughs of a tree.
Three or four smaller arms intersected, blocking my way.
It was a dense, net-like obstacle. At this rate, I couldn't break through.
So, I dropped my sword point toward the lower left.
More memories came pouring out.
Every single one was painful.
It was the life of someone who lived losing others, being robbed, hating, and suffering.
It wasn't just memories that surged in like a tide.
The agonizing emotions of those days were transmitted vividly.
It was terrifying and dreadful.
Each time I glimpsed the man's nightmares, my heart felt like it was being torn apart. I felt like wailing and screaming.
He must have wanted to run away.
But for him, there wasn't even a place left to flee to.
Therefore, I had no intention of running either.
If only to deny the path he took.
It was then that the silver-dyed blade left lacerations in the air.
Five lines in total.
The corpse arms blocking me were torn apart without exception, letting out a monstrous cry.
Kieeeeeeeek!
It was a rapid ascent, like a squirrel climbing a tree.
Before I knew it, I had run up the forearm and was heading for the shoulder.
It was the first time I came eye-to-eye with the Corpse Giant.
Thousands of faces turned toward me, then broke into hideous grins.
Kh-kik-kik-kik-kik!
It was blatant mockery.
Laughter that seemed to ask how someone like me could possibly do anything to it.
I wasn't frustrated.
That was the objective gap between me and that monster.
However, I steeled my resolve.
Just as I had always done, I would turn that mockery into a scream.
I might have made one of those faces shriek right then and there.
If only something hadn't suddenly grabbed my ankle.
I had no choice but to look down at my ankle with a bewildered expression.
The hands that had tried to grab my ankles were supposed to have been hacked away by my sword and axe.
It was hard to accept that there were still arms left.
But the wrist gripping my ankle was wearing a gauntlet that looked undeniably high-end.
"……Son of a bitch."
I hastily raised my sword to prepare for the coming impact.
Sure enough, a tidal wave of corpses was already rising before me.
The Corpse Giant was trying to sweep me away with its remaining hand.
Thump! A powerful momentum sent me flying into the air.
For a moment, my mind went blank, and I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I was bouncing and rolling across the ground.
Cough! I spat out a mouthful of blood.
I felt like I was going to die.
Even though I had prepared for the impact, I couldn't put any strength into my body.
My muscles convulsed on their own.
My consciousness flickered, and the cold blizzard slapped my skin.
Normally, it would be right to stay still.
I couldn't even wiggle a finger. My body, having experienced the brink of death several times already, craved true rest.
But I remembered.
The memory of the day everything burned.
A girl died, and a boy died.
I didn't want to lose anything else.
That was my honest, unvarnished feeling.
And perhaps it was the truth the man had kept hidden deep inside.
I crawled unsteadily, finally gripping my sword and forcing myself up.
As the silver Aura flickered on the blade, the flesh chunks seemed taken aback.
They had approached to dispose of a corpse, so they seemed confused when I stood up.
In that opening, I pulled a potion from my pouch and downed it.
Thump. My heart pulsed violently, forcing vitality into my exhausted body.
Only then did my muscles, frozen by the bitter cold, feel a bit looser.
I gripped the sword with both hands and spoke.
"……We still have a long way to go, don't we?"
Yes, until I could understand that man.
The dance of sword and blood had to continue for much longer.
Ptui. The blood I spat out created a ripple in the snow.
"……I have to go right now!"
It was a plea bordering on a scream.
The Saintess raised her voice, roughly brushing off Yuren's hand as he tried to hold her shoulder.
Tears had already formed in her pale pink eyes.
"He's... he's going to die like that... No, he'll definitely die! We have to rescue him right now!"
It was a desperate entreaty, so frantic that she had even forgotten her formal speech by the end.
The others watched Ian's desperate struggle, lost for words.
They could only stare in a daze.
How could he still be moving?
By all rights, he should have collapsed and died long ago.
His body was a wreck.
Even from a distance, the blow dealt to the man was terrifying.
It was a fight against a subordinate of the Evil God, fought entirely alone.
Naturally, it couldn't be simple. Most people suspected Ian had lost his mind.
But for something done simply by a madman, it was far too...
"……Desperate."
That was Reynold's brief assessment.
Not only the Lainella family's Magic Corps but even the refugees stopped their march to look at the man.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes were focused on that struggle.
Yet, no one dared to utter their thoughts aloud.
The sight of him, battered and broken, dragging a body that should have been shattered to continue fighting endlessly.
At first, they had scoffed; then, they were marveled; and now, they felt it was almost grotesque.
Several mages, chilled to the bone, trembled.
That was how much of a ghostly aura the battle carried.
Among the crowd fallen into silence, the next person to snap out of it after the Saintess was Celine.
She immediately gritted her teeth and shot forward, kicking off the ground.
No one had time to stop her.
Only then could Elsie regain her senses.
Her body was shivering.
To be honest, she was afraid.
It was her first time witnessing such a wretched fight.
She had fought a fierce battle at the flesh nest before, but even that hadn't felt like a fight this devoid of hope.
It must be incredibly painful and agonizing.
And yet, how could her Master refuse to break against that monster?
Elsie found it hard to understand him.
For a moment, the thought of running away even crossed her mind.
It was an enemy that couldn't be opposed.
Furthermore, Elsie wasn't as strong as Ian.
It felt as though he and she were born with different fates.
Elsie, a human born weak, had no choice but to wag her tail for a strong person like Ian.
A life of being loved, acting cute, and performing tricks for her Master.
Wasn't that a better life than being a fighting dog? Just as she was about to tell herself that...
‘……I will love you.’
A voice she had heard one day suddenly brushed past Elsie's ears.
If she ran?
With her mind finally returned to her, Elsie thought.
If I run away, what happens to Master?
He might die.
And if he dies, she would never see him again.
That fact struck Elsie as a fear more vivid than anything else.
For the first time in her life, Elsie realized what was more terrifying than death.
She had to save him.
He was a presence like no other in Elsie's life.
He was a person worth saving, even if it meant sacrificing her own life.
As she steeled her resolve and Elsie turned her steps...
"……Elsie."
As always, a voice like a frost-cold command caught her.
"Where do you think you are going?"
It was Reynold.
Elsie bit her lip slightly.