How to Save a Prince (4)
So this would be my second time facing a Minotaur.
My first clash had ended in a humiliating defeat.
Truthfully, "clash" was too generous a word for it.
It had been one-sided violence, plain and simple.
One punch from the Minotaur shattered my shield, the next blow broke my will, and from then on all I could do was tremble in terror with death staring me in the face.
And now?
Back then I was nothing but an empty husk with a few extra levels. Now I'm a seasoned veteran with every proficiency maxed out to the brim.
My overall stats had soared, and I'd even learned divine magic.
Needless to say, my combat experience had grown as well.
On top of all that, I'd just finished every bit of doping currently available to me — comparing this to the day I cleared Ruel's Trial would almost be an insult.
If this were a game, I wouldn't have worried for a second.
This was the me who could take down a Minotaur with a level 1 character. With specs like these, I'd toy with the thing and use it as a plaything.
But maybe that was exactly the problem — this was reality.
Or maybe it was the memory of my last crushing defeat.
My head was a tangled mess.
<Are you alright?>
'What do you mean?'
<You lost to it once. It would be natural to feel fear.>
'Thinking about it just makes me angry, Grandpa. Care to take a stroll down memory lane in my mental space? I hear there's a nice pit of humiliation on display.'
<...>
One little jab and the old man went silent.
I was deliberately trying not to bring it up, and he's the one who opens his mouth first? What did he expect?
That's karma, Grandpa. I'm still holding a grudge, you know.
Sure, everything worked out in the end and I dunked you in the humiliation pit once to settle the score, but my heart hasn't fully moved on from it.
Hoo.
...
The fear was real. That much was true.
I was not some iron-willed protagonist from a story.
When I first drank an elixir, without the skills I never would have touched the second one — the pain would have terrified me off it entirely.
Same with training.
It was my skills that drove my body forward. Without them, I'd have given up long ago.
It was the same the first time I fought an orc.
Without Fear Overcome, could I have calmly responded to it? Personally, I don't think so.
Nothing had really changed now, either.
Facing that monster still terrified me.
Driving my body like a madman was exhausting.
And yet I could do it.
Because I had my skills.
People who get transported into games move forward trusting in their skills, don't they?
I was no different.
Trusting that Fear Overcome would erase my terror.
Trusting that Unbreakable Will would never permit me to give up.
Trusting that Iron Wall would turn aside the Minotaur's strikes.
That trust was what carried my feet forward.
'Here we go.'
"Follow me, Your Pitiful Highness~"
I stepped out of the alley and stood before the Minotaur.
That colossal bulk.
Those blood-red eyes.
A breath so hot it felt like it could roast my skin raw.
And an axe that could cleave me in two.
I took a deep breath and raised my shield.
"Hiiii♡ you ugly, stinky, dumb blockhead♡"
The moment the Minotaur's eyes locked onto me, my hand tightened around my mace.
"Why are you looking at a loser like that?♡ Oh, I get it♡ You're a masochistic pervert just dying for me to butcher you♡ Haha♡ Okay, okay♡ I'll tenderize you with my mace, just for you♡"
With the euphoric rush the Mesugaki skill delivered coursing through me, the Minotaur bellowed and charged.
Dammit. For something that size, its speed is disgustingly fast.
But.
This much, I can handle.
BOOM!
I caught the Minotaur's two-handed axe swing on my shield.
Steel ground against steel with a shriek as we strained against each other.
Strong. It's disgustingly strong.
My hand holding the shield up. My arm. My shoulder. Everything felt like it was about to break.
But hey, blockhead. Guess what?
I haven't even buffed up yet?
'O God, who sends your apostle unto the earth...'
I recited the prayer in my mind.
One of the specialties of a paladin.
Magic created to protect God's people.
It bolstered stamina.
It amplified strength.
It hardened both body and mind.
It summoned forth iron resolve.
The divine magic I wielded as Armadi's apostle had stunned even Bishop Johan, who despised me — so narrowing the gap between me and the Minotaur by a good margin was more than within its power.
It was Arthur who broke the standoff between me and the Minotaur.
The wind magic summoned by the magic swordsman struck the Minotaur square in the face.
Chasing the staggering beast back, I swung my mace up toward its thigh.
The Minotaur's hide was thick and its muscle like steel — but who cared?
Do you have any idea how big the level gap between us is?
No matter how high its defense, my True Damage goes straight through?
And the instant my mace came crashing down—
"GUOOOOH!"
It felt good.
Enraged by the unexpected pain, perhaps?
The Minotaur staggered back, and then — passing right over me — its eyes turned toward Arthur.
As if he were the one responsible for its pain.
Hey. Where exactly are you looking right now?
There's a small, adorable little girl dying to smash your face in right here.
Taking your eyes off her? As a male, you've failed, and that's all I can say.
Don't tell me you're a female?
Way too hideous to be one, though.
Hmm. Oh! Are you into guys?
Then I suppose it makes sense to look away from me.
But I can't allow that.
I'm the tank, after all.
"Hey, scrub blockhead♡"
Look at the enemy in front of you.
"What, don't have the confidence to break through my shield?♡ That's right♡ With that pathetic little axe of yours, it's impossible♡"
Look at me, taunting you and dismissing you completely.
"Coward♡ Loser♡ Retard♡"
That's it.
Look at me. Come on, blockhead.
Your enemy is me.
Having lost its reason entirely, the Minotaur charged to crush me flat.
I caught the relentless rain of axe blows on my shield.
There was no opening to counterattack.
No matter how much the buffs closed the physical gap, the Minotaur still held the advantage. The moment even one of those rage-fueled swings connected directly, I'd be left with a critical wound.
So I waited.
Shield raised. A crocodile submerged beneath the water.
Waiting only for my prey to set foot in the river.
The Minotaur's vitality was stubborn.
Tenacious enough to rank among the highest of all monsters.
But stubborn didn't mean infinite.
It was, after all, still a living creature.
Not a bodiless phantom. Not an undead that knew no fatigue.
Which meant, eventually, a crack would show.
You're wondering — doesn't that go for me too? Well, who knows.
As I endured, and endured some more, the Minotaur readied a massive attack.
Twisting its hips in a wide arc.
Pulling its arm back.
As if to prove just how much muscle lay coiled beneath that hide.
That strike was dangerous.
You can't block it — deflect or dodge, Iron Wall shrieked.
Close in and interrupt the swing, Grandpa said.
I knew they were both right.
I'd repeated grueling training until it broke me — of course I understood.
But my body, worn ragged from turning aside the Minotaur's attacks, refused to obey my will.
The best I could manage was to take the blow on my shield.
The moment the Minotaur's horizontally sweeping strike met my shield, my body went soaring.
Huh. Feels like something like this happened to me before?
No sooner had that idle thought crossed my mind than my body slammed into a wall.
Son of a bitch. That hurt like hell.
Choking on dust shaken loose from the wall, I coughed a few times, then clutched my trembling legs and forced myself upright.
And there it was — the Minotaur charging in to smash me to pieces, giving me no room to breathe.
In my current state, there was no way I could block that.
Raising the shield would only get the shield shattered along with me.
Yet even knowing this, I could keep my composure — and not simply because of Fear Overcome.
Mercy of Armadi.
I hated that it bore the name of that useless, pathetic, perverted garbage of a Chief God, but as a skill, its performance was rock solid.
The instant I activated it, my body snapped back to full condition, and I turned aside the Minotaur's blow without the slightest trouble.
And then — the Minotaur flinched.
Haha. What's this? Thought you'd won, did you?
Too bad for you.
Hey, blockhead. Want to hear something fun?
I can still use this Mercy of Armadi at least ten more times, you know?
And that's before I even touch the potions in my pouch.
So. Let's find out, shall we?
Whose vitality is more stubborn — a beast with a blockhead's skull?
Or me, the holy cockroach?
"Come at me♡ you pathetic blockhead♡"
Lucy Alrn stood firm — even as the shield in her hand crumpled.
Even as her armor cracked.
Even as blood streamed from her head, painting her face crimson.
Even as her twin-tails, always tied in two neat bunches, came loose and hung in a disheveled ruin.
Even as she absorbed blow after endless blow, screaming through the pain.
She did not fall.
She stood her ground, barring the Minotaur's path, wearing that same insufferably smug smile.
And the Minotaur?
What of the great adversary we had once thought we could never bring down?
Its hand could no longer even grip its axe.
Its legs, hammered by countless blows, wobbled beneath it as though merely standing were a trial.
The strength to keep up its offensive was long gone.
Some remnant of a monster's pride kept it upright by sheer force of will, but that was all it was.
The overwhelming terror it had shown at the start existed nowhere now.
And even that last sliver of pride the Minotaur barely held onto shattered the instant Lucy Alrn swung her mace one final time.
The Minotaur's legs buckled. It sank to its knees.
The battle between an overwhelming monster and a little girl had begun exactly the way everyone had expected — and arrived at precisely the opposite conclusion.
It was Lucy Alrn who looked down. And it was the Minotaur that stared up, eyes wide with the same fear one feels before a monster.
So that is the bloodline of House Alrn.
A daughter of the family that has produced hero after hero across the ages.
It was never just talent.
She carried a talent beyond talent — and an instrument beyond even that. That is how she became such a monster.
Haha. At this point, I'm almost moved to reverence.
To think I would ever hold this thought about Lucy Alrn.
If I'd said this to myself a week ago, past-me would have asked if I'd lost my mind.
Lucy Alrn stepped up before the fallen Minotaur and raised her mace high.
And the moment she brought it down, the Minotaur's horn dropped to the ground.
"Let's go, Your Pitiful Highness~"
Lucy Alrn, smiling as she wiped the red blood from her face, looked more dependable than she ever had before.
<That was a close call.>
'Tell me about it.'
Fighting a Minotaur was anything but a leisurely stroll.
I'm telling you, the thing is disgustingly tenacious.
Stupid blockhead.
To put it bluntly, holding out was manageable.
I had several divine spells, Mercy of Armadi, and a whole arsenal of other skills.
The problem was that I couldn't deal any damage.
No matter how my True Damage landed, it was only 5% of my attack power.
Against a water-weak foe like that lich last time, it worked fine — but against a Minotaur famous for its toughness, there were limits.
If Arthur hadn't kept carving out openings and striking its vitals with magic, it would have been an ugly, grinding fight.
But hey — either way, I won, and I leveled up.
That's all that matters.
Right?
Quest Cleared!
Thankfully, this one belonged to that damned useless, pathetic, perverted garbage scrub of a Chief God.
Hey, you incompetent Chief God who couldn't even block Agra's curse — popping up out of nowhere to startle me, are we?!
Ugh. Seriously, I'm fuming.
Stoffe's Special Ticket has been granted.
Well, look at that — you do pay out properly, don't you?
Then again, if you didn't, you wouldn't be a Chief God. You'd be a con artist. Right.
Okay, hand it over. Into the pouch, and let me rest.
[...]
It has been confirmed that you have safely shaken off the hand of Agra.
...Huh?
Additional rewards will be granted.
What?
Why is the incompetent Chief God suddenly doing this?
This isn't the kind of god you are, is it?!