The Most Unbearable Pain
People offer many answers when asked to name the most unbearable pain a human can endure.
Yet one response always surfaces without fail.
Hunger and sleep deprivation.
Even a saint candidate and a princess were no exception.
"Ugh... ghh...!"
Laura Crown clutched her stomach and dropped to her knees.
This kind of hunger surpassed even the torment she had endured while hiding in the reeking underground tunnels of her fallen kingdom for two weeks.
Lydia Straw fared no better.
Even after fleeing through burning villages, blending into refugee lines, and running day and night without food or water while pursued by laughter, she had never felt hunger this crushing.
Her limbs trembled violently.
She needed to eat something.
No—she would die if she did not.
Ordinary food would never satisfy this void.
She needed warm blood to drink and flesh to tear apart.
Yes.
Their gazes met in the air.
Let us devour that commoner. Dying for royalty would be an honor.
Let us consume that pitiful soul unchosen by any god. Surely the divine would forgive us.
Thoughts no ordinary person in their right mind would ever entertain now filled both of them.
Just as Laura reached for a coin and Lydia extended her hand—
—Kwaaaah!
A dreadful aura crushed down upon them.
Overwhelming terror.
A pure, primal fear that threatened survival itself, dwarfing any hunger.
What did hunger matter if death claimed them first?
Gods, royalty—none of it mattered before death.
Both froze.
At the same moment—
—Shweeeek!
Wind howled through the chamber.
No, a gale.
"Ugh...!"
"Kyaa...!"
The hunger that had gripped them vanished as though it had never existed.
The two stared at each other in a daze.
—Shweeeek!
Once more the sound of a blade cleaving the air rang out, followed by another gust.
"Snap out of it."
A voice thick with dread echoed in their ears.
A man stood before them, sword drawn, radiating a menacing aura.
He did not even glance their way, his eyes fixed on the mass of flesh ahead.
Only then did the two women manage to turn their gazes toward it as well.
They had been so consumed by hunger that neither had noticed the grotesque lump right beside them.
When had he...?
Had he truly endured that hunger from the start?
Gulp. Laura swallowed hard while Lydia stared at him.
If he stayed with them... perhaps he could help realize her ambitions.
—Clack!
He sheathed the blade he had drawn.
Thank goodness. The gale had not damaged it too badly.
He flexed his fist, thinking he could still use the technique a few more times.
<-Shit!>
The voice echoed inside his head again.
Was that swearing just now?
A side effect of high mental strength?
Or was it truly a curse?
Even so, if the price of wielding the cursed sword was occasionally hearing "shit" in his mind, he could endure it a hundred times over.
High mental strength really was the way to go.
He looked down at the heart pulsing before him.
The moment the word "resistance" had appeared, the first thing he did was pour strength into his body.
Basic party play.
In Dark Fantasy Saga, mental attacks and status ailments did not affect the entire party equally—each person resisted differently.
Some were afflicted, others were not.
And while he was immune to every mental attack, the others were not.
While pondering how to suppress the hunger, the simplest solution came to him.
Just crush it with raw power.
If he pushed his stigma to its limit, hunger would mean nothing.
So he poured every ounce of strength into his body.
The result—
"...Haa... haa..."
"Haa... hnn..."
Both women were doubled over, clutching their stomachs and moaning.
"Snap out of it."
At his words, they straightened up.
He assessed his own condition.
He could manage one more Swift Slash and two more Gales.
Drawing Slash... using it again would probably cost him an arm.
He needed to train more or find another way to strengthen his body.
For now, he would leave the rest to them.
All right, kids. From here on, I have no strength left, so you two will have to handle it.
"I'll deal with it. Cover me."
When had he ever said that?
"Let's go."
Two people witness your magnificent figure!
Reverence increases!
Reverence: 35%
Warning: Once lowered, Reverence is difficult to restore!
"..."
Information only appeared when it felt like it.
Still, there was a way around it.
Enhanced Strike remaining: 2 uses
He had saved the Enhanced Strikes for exactly this moment.
Using Gale once or twice would not strain his body too much.
So—
He drew his sword.
The simple motion sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but there was no helping it.
"Follow me."
As long as he could swing it.
He charged forward, feet pounding the ground.
Air whipped past his cheeks.
"I pay the price. Grant me greater speed."
With Laura's voice, a coin chimed.
—Ting!
Her buff skill enveloped him, lightening his steps ever so slightly.
He drew closer to the heart.
Less gastric acid poured from it now.
"I beg the mercy of the Lord. Please block it...!"
Behind him, Lydia radiated white light, forming a barrier that halted the acid.
With a sizzling sound, the acid splashed against the glowing wall and fell away.
He raised his sword.
Enhanced Strike activated!
Light gathered along the blade.
He swung upward, cleaving the air.
—Kwaaaang!
A tremendous impact tore through the air and struck the heart directly.
—Kiiiii!!!
A scream of agony erupted from within.
At the same time, tentacles burst from the ruptured heart.
"What? It still has more?!"
Laura's shocked voice rang out behind him.
He had known this would happen.
That was how Dark Fantasy Saga worked—every time you thought you had won, a desperate final pattern emerged.
That damned game.
Good thing he had saved another Enhanced Strike.
Light once again coated his blade.
Same stance. One more swing.
—Shhhk!
The wind blade sliced through the air again.
This time it severed every tentacle and tore the heart apart completely.
Debuff: Severe Muscle Damage
Severe muscle damage sustained! Further intense movement will cause permanent injury!
"..."
His arm throbbed with pain.
He had barely made it.
Thank goodness he had predicted the final pattern and saved his Enhanced Strikes.
He approached the limp heart.
—Hungry...
The heart muttered.
This was the terror of stigmas.
To be consumed by one's own power and become a monster.
And the only ones who could truly slay such beings were others who bore the same stigma.
The heart mumbled something, then dropped an object.
—Clack!
A black stone.
Yes. This was what he had been looking for.
The black stone dropped by a defeated environmental Variant.
In the game it was called Proof of Subjugation—an exchange item.
Collect enough and trade them at the academy for useful gear. Raise affinity with the merchant and even better events or items appeared.
They were also quite beautiful...
"I-it's collapsing!"
Laura's scream shattered his thoughts.
A rumbling echoed from the ceiling.
Laura ducked while Lydia tried to raise a shield.
"Stay still."
Both froze at his command and glanced at him nervously.
Environmental Variants never caused surrounding structures to collapse when they vanished.
Sure enough, the writhing flesh walls melted away as if by magic.
"..."
"..."
"..."
What they faced instead were countless stares.
Eyes turned toward him and the two women beside him.
"...You... you defeated it...?"
"With just three students?"
Voices filled with shock rang out, only to fall silent the moment he looked their way.
Everyone is shocked and awed by your achievement!
Reverence increases!
Reverence: 70%
When Reverence reaches 100%, a random stat will increase!
"..."
A random stat would rise? In a game where raising stats was notoriously difficult?
Another reason to increase Reverence.
He looked at the others while thinking this.
Laura flipped her hair as though accustomed to such praise, while Lydia blinked wide-eyed, still unaccustomed to the admiration—or terror—directed at her.
Both turned their gazes to him.
He met their eyes and spoke.
"Look away."
Your faces are making me feel sick.
*
That damned game.
The user rumored to be the best at Dark Fantasy Saga.
At least his guides were always helpful, and everyone believed without doubt that he had progressed the farthest.
Yet several days had passed since he last logged in.
Occasional posts asking after him appeared, but they were all buried beneath a single thread.
New routes kept appearing, endless as waves.
*
"Help me."
Laura stood before him with arms crossed, sweating coldly yet meeting his eyes.
Her golden hair swayed in front of her face, catching the light and sparkling.
Whether from embarrassment or fear, she twisted her body as she spoke.
"I... I think you could help me."
Before he could even think "with what," his answer was already decided.
"Get lost."
Was she out of her mind?