Chapter 389: Bread and Dagger (87)
Chapter 389: Bread and Dagger (87)
Leoric’s prosthetic bodies lacked a mind. Only his main body possessed emotions and consciousness.
I could personally attest to this, having faced countless versions of Leoric’s prosthetic bodies. Furthermore, Leoric himself had said something similar regarding Betty’s unconscious form.
He had mentioned that a prolonged absence of the mind would have an adverse effect on the physical body.
In truth, it wasn't particularly useful information.
What did it matter if the prosthetic bodies lacked emotions? Their physical forms were under Leoric’s perfect control. The presence or absence of emotion was irrelevant in combat.
That is, if the Princess hadn't been on our side.
If she weren't here, I wouldn't have even dreamed of utilizing such a useless insight.
[You’re trying to find the main body.]
I nodded at the Princess’s response.
She was too far away to see me, but it was a reflexive reaction.
“To be precise, I’m looking for the prosthetic body Leoric is currently inhabiting. His actual main body is this entire mass of flesh.”
It was a short, simple operation.
It was also the most efficient plan I could devise.
The Princess fell silent as if she understood immediately. She was likely sharpening her insight from behind me, scrutinizing Leoric.
However, there was still one more piece of the puzzle left for this plan.
“Then what should I do?”
It was Seria’s question.
Since I had already anticipated this, I recited the plan as quickly as possible.
“You know that technique ‘I’ taught you.”
Leoric’s prosthetic bodies were already stealthily adjusting their positions. It meant the onslaught of tentacles and vessels was about to resume.
There was no time.
“Use it when I give the signal.”
“What?”
I didn't even wait for an answer before I kicked off the ground.
Immediately, tentacles and prosthetic bodies rose to greet me.
It had only been a few minutes since our last encounter, but I wasn't the least bit happy to see them.
With every swing of my sword and every strike of my axe, flesh was torn asunder, and blood erupted like fireworks.
One step, then another.
My settled breath grew ragged once more. As my gasps became more frequent, my sword and axe grew progressively faster.
It was a sensation I had felt once before.
On the day I finished off the infinitely regenerating Corpse Giant.
That day, too, my mind had felt as if it were floating in a haze, and I alone was swinging my sword within an invisible world.
But Leoric was no easy opponent.
Thwack! A fist burst through the chest of one of the prosthetic bodies.
It was a strike even I hadn't anticipated. I twisted my body hurriedly, but I couldn't prevent my side from being gouged.
Seria let out a scream as blood sprayed from my body.
“Senior Ian!”
“Not yet!”
Barely suppressing a groan, I slammed my hand axe into the arm that had grazed my side.
Crunch. While the axe blade was buried halfway into the limb, a tentacle came flying toward me.
By then, I was already kicking the prosthetic body that had been impaled through the chest.
Unlike slashes, blunt impact was effective even against Leoric’s sturdy frame.
As the prosthetic body fell backward, creating an opening, I twisted the axe blade and wrenched it free from its arm. Then, I ducked my upper body and stepped over the vessel as if vaulting it.
I heard the sound of the tentacle slamming into empty air.
Squelch, squelch.
It seemed the tentacle, unable to overcome its own momentum, had pierced its own main body of flesh.
I shouted to Seria again.
“Don't swing yet! Just a little… ugh, wait!”
Of course, the wait wouldn't be long.
One step, another step.
The resistance grew more violent with every advance, but my slashes accelerated to match it.
And then, I saw them.
Behind the chaos, five prosthetic bodies stood motionless, watching me.
One of them had to be the main body.
I screamed amidst the rain of tentacles and the tide of vessels.
“Cien!”
[It’s the one on the far right!]
The moment she called out, I felt a presence dashing behind my back.
I decided to reveal the trump card I had been hiding.
As I strained my eyes, I felt a pressure so intense it felt like my capillaries would burst. My vision mapped out the space, and my hands seemed to tear at the faint, blurred threads of reality.
All the tentacles aimed at me bent at bizarre angles.
The prosthetic bodies, their feet caught by the tangled tentacles, faltered. But there was one more reason I had to keep my eyes wide.
The air began to bleed.
Crimson lines trickled down, forming angular characters. The mysterious script used by the race known as the founders of magic in the distant past.
Dragon Blood Runes.
BOOM!
An explosion erupted, spreading a thick, sweltering heat. Crimson flames licked the air, swallowing the surrounding scenery in an instant. I charged through the fire alone.
A very brief opening.
Just before my sword could reach Leoric’s main body, the other four prosthetic bodies leaped at me as if they had been waiting.
My vision was already blurring. I couldn't handle those vessels on my own.
That was why I had made the request.
“Seria!”
In the frozen time, a single girl shot forward, kicking off the ground.
It was a deep blue horizon.
The blade, running in a clean straight line, brought a storm with it. The earth, torn apart by a slash that split the very instant of an instant, screamed haphazardly.
What could remain intact before that storm?
“Eek!”
The four prosthetic bodies were sliced in half, swept away by the aftermath until not even a trace remained. Even Seria, who had unleashed that single flash, recoiled at the unimaginable power.
Now, only I remained.
The main body’s mouth aimed at me, as if about to vomit a scream.
Therefore, Binding.
Light met light, beginning a duel that allowed for not even a single step of concession. As I stepped forward with a groan, the beam of light erupted with an even more stubborn radiance.
But even that had its limit.
The beam shattered like fragments, and my blade swam through the particles of light.
In a final act of desperation, Leoric crossed his arms.
Therefore, Unbinding.
Grit. The gruesome sound of a blade digging into bone echoed. It lasted only a moment; as I gritted my teeth and poured more strength into my arms, Leoric’s arms began to tremble violently.
Only then did the middle-aged man grind his teeth with his one remaining mouth.
“I-Ian… Percus! Do you think this curse will end just because you defeat me?! This is the grudge of the weak! It is the hope born from our miserable reality… the one you people ignored… and sometimes turned a blind eye to!”
“Stop… your bullshit!”
I took a heavy step forward, clenching my teeth even harder.
My vision was staining red as if the blood vessels in my eyes had burst. I, too, was nearing my limit.
“Have you not seen the blood on your own hands? If living is hell, you are the one who contributed to that hell!”
“And you are the ones who created that hell!”
“Perhaps we did!”
Skreeee. The blade advanced a little further. The end was in sight.
It was then that my hand, which had been supporting the hilt, swept toward my waist.
Leoric’s eyes widened. My hand axe had flown through the air.
He surely remembered.
How he had been defeated by this single strike.
Thud. The hand axe, having reached its peak, suddenly stopped.
“But not anymore!”
Then, the hand axe struck the blade like a bolt of lightning.
The tense balance of power could not withstand that tiny crack.
A scream, blood, and a blurring vision.
A world-shaking explosion followed, and my vision went black along with the sensation of my body floating.
Within that fading consciousness, I thought:
Can I finally rest now?
I didn't have the strength left to even wiggle a finger.
When I opened my eyes, it was the memory of a strange man.
My cheek stung. White sparks flew across my vision, and the pain immediately brought my consciousness to the fore.
What just happened to me?
The blue eyes of the woman looking down at me held a sharp light.
“……I told you not to touch me!”
Biting her lip, that was the warning the woman spat out.
They were words of extreme rejection. A deep anger seeped from her voice, yet for some reason, I wasn't afraid of her.
If anything, I felt sorry for her.
That was why I let out a hollow laugh even after being slapped.
The woman’s eyes narrowed as she glared at me, looking utterly displeased.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s my first time being slapped by a female junior.”
“Ha,” the woman let out a disbelieving laugh. Her gray hair shimmered with the tremor.
Even I, who had spoken the words, didn't know why I said them. It was understandable that she would feel wronged.
Actually, there was another reason I laughed.
When my hand had touched the woman’s arm, the emotion she showed was fear.
It wasn't directed at me. Rather, it was the reaction she had immediately after, trembling as she checked her own body.
The woman didn't particularly hate me.
Rather, because she hated herself so much, she perceived all contact with her body as something negative.
Out of fear that she might hurt someone again.
As if to prove this, the woman’s mockery continued.
“Ha, what a terrible first experience. To think I’d be slapped by a monster of all things?”
“Why are you a monster?”
“Then what else would I be?”
The junior took a sudden step toward me, her emotions surging.
I didn't back away on purpose and faced her calmly.
“The blood flowing through this body craves blood… and it’s becoming harder and harder to control. Because I’m a monster! The blood of the monster that killed my beloved sister and my vassals flows through my veins!”
“What if you could overcome the curse?”
It was a low counter-question. A flat inquiry without even a hint of inflection.
But the effect of that one sentence was certain.
The woman’s body froze stiff.