Chapter 261
Chapter 261
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 261
Chapter Title: Recapture (3)
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“What the hell is this?”
“What are those guards doing?”
The Dark Knights gathered toward the gate upon hearing the skeletons’ piercing shrieks.
“What is this? S-skeletons?”
“Where did they come from…? Wait a minute, those skeletons are using Aura!”
The skeletons poured into the city like a tidal wave.
The Dark Knights caught in their path were torn to shreds, literally.
“Skeletons with Aura…?”
“If you’ve got time to be shocked, swing your sword already!”
“Damn it, no matter how many we smash, they keep coming… Argh!”
The Dark Knights couldn’t mount a proper resistance against the surprise attack.
A few Dark Knights quickly regained their composure and fought back, but it was futile.
The skeletons regenerated immediately after being shattered. Then they attacked the Dark Knights again.
While the skeletons battled the Dark Knights, Demian stepped inside. That’s when the Dark Knights spotted him.
“A black mage! That guy’s definitely controlling the skeletons!”
“Kill him first! That’ll end this!”
The Dark Knights who spotted Demian charged at him with desperate resolve.
But the Dark Knights couldn’t get close to Demian.
A Death Knight had suddenly appeared, swinging a greatsword.
The elongated Aurablade engulfed the oncoming Dark Knights. Their bodies split in half and fell to the ground.
“N-no way… An A-Aurablade… He’s commanding a Master-class….”
Even as they died, the Dark Knights couldn’t accept the reality.
“Dominico.”
-Yes, my lord.
“Handle the skeletons. Clean up this place.”
-What will you do, my lord?
Demian pointed at the smithy building as he answered Dominico’s question.
“I’m going to take the head blacksmith’s head.”
* * *
“Ugh, what’s all this noise?”
Weapon Master’s prized disciple.
Alexander clutched his head as he dragged himself upright.
The hangover from last night’s binge was brutal. It felt like a swarm of bees was buzzing inside his skull.
“Why is it so damn noisy? What the hell are those idiots outside doing?”
His head already throbbed, and the racket from outside made it even worse.
“Ugh, damn it. Fucking hell.”
Alexander was famously a drunkard. But he didn’t usually drink this much.
His tolerance had grown since he’d started guarding this smithy.
“How long do I have to be cooped up in this boring dump?”
Alexander was deeply dissatisfied with the mission his master had assigned him.
He wanted to roam outside like the other disciples. To drink fine liquor and meet pretty women.
Since he couldn’t, he drowned his boredom in booze.
“I don’t get why Master is so wary of these dwarves.”
He didn’t completely fail to understand.
The dwarves of Bitterthorn City preserved ancient knowledge and techniques in their entirety.
If they got serious, who knew what weapons they could forge.
But that was only if they had the facilities and materials.
Naked dwarves posed no threat at all.
“Ugh, my head hurts. Screw it. I need another bottle.”
Alexander grabbed the bottle under his bed. He tilted it back and chugged.
“Gah, that hits the spot. Perfect.”
That’s when it happened, as Alexander wiped his mouth with his sleeve, satisfied.
The door burst open. A subordinate tumbled in through the doorway.
“Ah, Alexander! We’re in big trouble!”
“You’ve got blood coming from your head, you idiot?”
“That’s not important right now! The enemy’s attacking!”
At those words, Alexander dropped the bottle he’d been holding.
Precious liquor spilled across the floor like blood, but he had no time to care.
“Enemies?”
“Yes! We’re holding them off, but it’s not enough! So many knights have already died….”
Suddenly, the door shattered. A massive wolf leaped in and crushed the subordinate’s head underfoot.
There was a crunching sound as something burst, splattering blood and flesh.
“…Huh?”
The situation was so sudden that Alexander’s mind went blank for a moment.
-Grrrr.
The black wolf glared at Alexander and growled.
Then, an unfamiliar voice rang out.
“Munchie, you finished it off nicely.”
A man stepped through the gaping hole. He wore a strange mask over his face.
“…Who are you.”
“They call me Woodcutter Victor.”
Woodcutter Victor.
It was a name Alexander had never heard before, but he couldn’t take the man lightly.
The ominous aura emanating from him was beyond measure.
“Why are you attacking this place?”
“I’ve got business with the Weapon Master. They said I need this place’s facilities to get into the city.”
“…You’ve teamed up with the dwarves.”
“Something like that.”
“You insolent fool. You think you can take on my master?”
Alexander reached out into the air. A large axe hanging on the wall flew into his hand.
“You think I’ll let that slide? You’re going to die here. My men are probably hoping for that too.”
Alexander radiated killing intent.
He knew he’d been a lousy leader, but avenging his men was the least he could do.
That’s when it happened.
Victor suddenly stared at Alexander’s axe and asked.
“…You’ve killed a lot with that axe.”
“What? Did you read the lingering souls in it or something?”
Demonic Axe Sicilia.
An axe that grew stronger by absorbing the souls of those it killed.
High-level black mages could read the remnants of souls absorbed by Sicilia.
“Not just enemies. There are children, elders, women mixed in. What were you thinking, killing all those people?”
“Who knows? I just fed whatever I saw to Sicilia, so I never really thought about it.”
Alexander had killed over ten thousand people with Sicilia.
Thanks to that, he hadn’t suffered a single defeat since obtaining it.
In that instant, a chilling aura spread from Victor.
“You’d better abandon any hopes of dying easily.”
“That’s my line.”
Alexander twisted his lips into a sneer and kicked off the ground. Victor immediately unleashed black magic.
Explosions erupted one after another inside the smithy.
* * *
While Demian and the undead fought the Dark Knights, the dwarves were rescuing their kin.
“C-careful lowering them! Be careful!”
Killo shouted urgently. The dwarves slowly lowered the spear shafts in response to his words.
“Untie them quick! Hurry!”
The dwarves severed all the wires binding their kin.
Even freed from the spear shafts, their kin showed no reaction.
They barely clung to life, but that was it. Their souls were so ravaged they couldn’t respond to external stimuli.
“M-medicine… We need to give them medicine…!”
Killo hurriedly pulled out pre-made ointments from his leather pouch.
Dwarves excelled not only in metallurgy but also in pharmacology.
They stripped off the clothes to apply the ointment to the wounds. The moment they saw the injuries hidden beneath, tears streamed from Killo’s eyes.
“Damn… these fucking bastards….”
Rags.
That lofty word didn’t fit.
They were tattered like filthy, abused rags.
Even dwarven ointments couldn’t fully heal these wounds. They’d have to prepare for lifelong disabilities.
“Damn… damn… damn.”
Curses poured nonstop from Killo’s mouth as he applied the ointment.
“Killo… brother…?”
That’s when it happened.
The dwarf Killo was treating slowly opened his mouth.
At that voice, Killo lit up and shouted.
“Todall! I had no idea it was you!”
The wounds were so extensive his face was unrecognizable.
Killo’s chest swelled at his sworn brother’s voice.
“Brother… you’re still… so loud… for no reason… same as ever….”
“We finally meet like this, and that’s all you have to say!”
“Haha… the enemies…? What happened… to the enemies?”
“…Don’t worry. They’re being handled.”
“Is that… so? Impressive… must’ve been… tough.”
Struggling to speak, Todall paused. He caught his breath, then asked Killo again.
“The city… is it safe…?”
At those words, Killo froze.
How could he tell the truth?
The city had already fallen to the enemy. They had to take it back.
How could he say that to his dying sworn brother?
Countless emotions flashed across Killo’s face in that brief moment.
“You idiot! Of course it is. If the city was in trouble, do you think I could’ve come to save you!”
In the end, Killo had to lie.
“Haha… that’s… a relief.”
A faint smile spread across Todall’s lips. Killo’s face twisted even more.
“Then my wife… is alive?”
“…Yeah, she’s alive.”
“What about Mother? Is she still with us?”
“Of course!”
“What about Galeon, that idiot?”
“He got away safe too!”
“That’s good… I was so… so worried….”
A satisfied smile formed on his lips. But the next words never came.
“…Todall.”
Killo shook Todall’s body.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
He shook him repeatedly. But the smiling mouth stayed shut.
“Todall… you bastard… say something…!”
Killo kept shaking him. A subordinate finally held him back.
“Chief… that’s enough. You know that.”
Reluctantly, Killo stopped at the subordinate’s plea.
“Ah… aah….”
Killo looked around the smithy.
The battle raged on. Skeletons were killing Dark Knights.
Rage boiled up inside him.
He wanted to charge out and slaughter the enemies himself.
To honor Todall’s death. To help his soul rest in peace.
But reality was harsh.
Jumping in would only get in the way.
With their skills, they couldn’t even handle a single Dark Knight.
“P-please….”
He’d learned it since childhood.
Protect the pride of Bitterthorn City’s dwarves. Clan matters are for the clan to handle.
“Please… these bastards….”
Killo had never forgotten what he’d been taught. He’d lived by it.
As the last clan carrying their ancestors’ will and techniques, he’d upheld their pride.
“All of them… every last one… not a single one spared….”
But in this moment, Killo cast aside pride and dignity. He accepted the shame.
He slammed his forehead to the ground, clawed at the dirt, and screamed.
“Kill all these scum!”
At that instant, an explosion rang out.
The smithy’s entrance shattered. Someone appeared through the gaping hole.
A masked man.
Victor stepped outside. He was dragging something in his hand.
The moment Killo saw the man’s face, he recognized him.
How could he forget? On the day the city fell, he’d appeared alongside the Weapon Master—the prized disciple.
That day, Killo had seen him as a demon crawled from hell.
“Cough… hack….”
The man who’d terrified him so was now groaning in agony.
“You… fucking… dog….”
The once terrifying figure struggled to spit curses.
But the Weapon Master’s prized disciple could do nothing but speak.
His limbs had rotted away, exposing bone.
Victor tossed Alexander aside. Alexander rolled limply across the ground.
“Alexander.”
Victor placed his foot on Alexander’s head and said.
“I have a few questions. Answer honestly, and I’ll spare your soul.”