Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Floor 8 Inferno
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Floor 8.
"If this keeps up, we'll punch straight through the whole thing."
Excluding the straight vertical shaft I'd carved from the 6th floor down to the 10th, there were the holes the goblins had bored through the 7th floor and the one I'd made on the 8th. It almost felt like rain could pour right down to the 9th floor at this rate.
I peeked down the hole where the fusion monster had fallen. Its corpse hung there limply, spine snapped in two, having crushed a few carnivorous plants beneath it as it cooled in the stale air.
"Should I just jump? Doesn't look like there's much worth sticking around for on this floor."
The floor occupation EXP had already been claimed via the Insight Scroll, and I'd taken down the sub-boss fusion monster too.
There was still the Orc Village side quest, but with the fierce battle's aftermath causing it to 'unavoidably' vanish in flames, it was questionable if I could even pick it up now.
'Plus, with the silver chest and the goblin's bulging backpack still out there, I could probably head straight for the boss.'
The map showed no standout objects among the confirmed ones.
Sure, using them would bolster my forces, but this fire engulfing the entire Orc Village didn't look like it would go out easily—and it was more likely to burn the whole 8th floor at this point.
So rather than lingering here trying to gobble up everything, dropping to the 9th floor seemed like the smarter play.
'So where's that silver chest?'
The Giant Slime Blob had it tucked inside its body, and the Wanderer had triggered it from the collapsing ceiling.
Even now that it was reality, the silver chest was bound to pop up somehow, like some contrived reward. Half-disbelieving, I scanned the roaring inferno.
Surely the box hadn't spawned inside the flames just because the goblin thief died in there?
That would be a disaster.
Rumble─!
Thankfully, my grim imagination missed the mark. With a thunderous crash, the ceiling collapsed a short distance from the village.
And like rain, crude weapons, armor, trinkets, fruits, and all sorts of junk came pouring down...
In the midst of it, I spotted something gleaming like a silver chest mixed in.
That must've been the goblin thief's warehouse or secret hideout where it stashed its stolen goods.
'Never even noticed that.'
Had the little runt wormed its way through the dense trees with its tiny frame to carve out a space?
Roooaaar!!!
Shouts erupted from outside the village, mingled with the clang of crude iron weapons clashing and the roar of massive flames devouring the surrounding foliage, scorching the air in a hellish symphony.
Grabbing the loot mattered, but first things first—I needed to clean up the area.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Grahak!"
Shattering weapons on impact, orc blood spraying everywhere.
Mutual slaughter among kin—something he'd never wanted.
If they weren't cultist scum worshiping that unholy abomination, he'd be screaming for them to stand down, to talk this out. But experience had taught him these mad ones had no interest in words.
"TheOneWhowillEndtheLivesofImpureBeingsandRighttheWorldHasComeWeShallWorshipandAdoreandPraiseandBecomeHisUndyingServantsBlowingtheTrumpetbyHisSide!"
"Guh...! Don't give ground! We got nowhere to retreat!"
He cleaved another frothing orc whose eyes blazed with manic fervor, babbling nonsense.
Tongue clicking at the zealot clutching his ankle even as its spine split and guts spilled across the dirt, he booted its jaw and sent it flying.
Another life snuffed out. Glancing back, he saw no trace left of their once-living village—just a crimson fireball illuminating the dim forest.
'I know it couldn't be helped, but damn if it doesn't piss me off.'
Shairok's summoned monster—the blight on their village—had been overwhelmingly powerful.
Even he, the shaman, and the former war chief chieftain charging together couldn't have won. He'd resigned himself to death once already.
The human who'd brought Kali along.
He hadn't expected that one to fight alongside them, risking his neck. One more human wouldn't change their hopeless odds.
But the human had exceeded all expectations.
By turning the monster—and the whole village—to dust!
'The village burning, I get that. But at least let it end by orc hands.'
Crunch─
Splitting another charging mad orc's skull in two, he cast several lingering glances at the burning village.
'Did the human bite it?'
He knew next to nothing about the guy, yet something told him no. His head shook instinctively.
That human would claw his way out no matter what. A gut feeling.
The instinct of a battle-hardened veteran who'd survived hundreds of fights.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Everyone been waiting for me?"
Arriving at the site of the fierce battle, orcs were locked in combat with orcs.
More precisely, enemy orcs versus NPC orcs.
In D.D., with no explanation given, he'd figured it was something like 'why attack friendly orcs?' But seeing it up close, the enemy orcs' eyes were off—whites bulging like they'd taken drugs, drool dripping as they muttered gibberish. No wonder the scouting party called them 'the mad kin.'
"Human! What happened to that monster and Shairok?!"
The war chief bellowed, having just bisected a berserk orc vertically in one stroke.
His voice boomed so loud every fighting orc turned to stare.
"Obviously, I took care of all of them~"
Thumbs up given, the war chief bared his protruding fangs in a snarl, smashing another orc's face before ripping it apart barehanded and hoisting it skyward.
"Listen up─! That vile monster lies dead, and the wretched traitor Shairok has plummeted into the dark depths! We survived! But we've lost our village and fight our mad kin!"
At the news of the monster slain and survival, the village orcs' faces lit up—only for the mood to crash with his next words.
Morale plummeting, the mad orcs pressed the village orcs back a few steps.
"Does that mean we give up on life?! We've always fought and seized survival! Venomous bugs, walking plants, lizards—we beat them all, that's why we're here! We are warriors! Even without a village, we'll live on—like our ancestors who first set foot on this land!"
A raw, unpolished speech.
But such primal words perfectly conveyed the truth.
Strength returned to the orcs' grips.
"Fight! Seize! Survive!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
And so the orcs claimed victory—and life once more.
Blood stench and acrid smoke from the blaze obscured the view ahead.
I and the orcs arrived before the mountain of goblin thief's hidden loot, piled high from the collapsed ceiling.
"Human, you took him down. You sure it's fine?"
"Eh, I couldn't carry it all anyway. No village left, so might as well grab what you can."
The tiny goblin had stolen so damn much—the pile towered over my head.
The surviving orcs stuffed their arms with as much as they could, slowly whittling it down, yet it was still an impressive haul.
The war chief, not grabbing any himself, watched the orcs haul goods before side-eyeing me.
"Where's Kali?"
"Here."
At my call, the Wanderer named Kali stepped forward slowly.
The war chief, startled by her sudden appearance from thin air, stared hard—then shot me a look, sensing something off.
"...What the hell happened? Something weird's inside her. And she's bound by some alien energy."
The weird thing was the Bell of the End... and the alien energy—did that mean he could sense she'd become an onahole?
Fantasy perks, huh? Snapping my fingers, I commanded the Bell of the End to emerge.
Wriggle─
Flesh tendrils pried from Kali's lips, end twitching as it sought me out.
"What in the...!"
"That's how I found her. And... yeah... I'm keeping it suppressed. I'm like a sealer or whatever. Like this."
Screee─
A carnivorous vine slunk up without a sound; I bashed it with my gleaming greatsword and invoked Onahole Creation.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Onahole Creation [Carnivorous Vine has become an Onahole.]
>[You obtained Nepenthes Onahole.]
The war chief nodded, seeming to buy it somewhat, as I stowed the now-stumpy vine in my backpack.
"Kali was a traveler who dropped by the village now and then. My mentor and friend, too. Young and hot-blooded, I challenged the warrior from afar over and over, got wrecked each time, but learned her skills and knowledge while we hung out."
His face conflicted as he gazed at Kali, then turned away.
Never heard the Wanderer's backstory before—turns out she was a traveler.
Popping in occasionally meant she traversed this godforsaken jungle like it was her backyard.
Made sense why she was so damn strong, compared to Vesha as a hero's spirit or the Giant Slime Blob as a cannibalistic mutant. Even as the Bell of the End's host, she was OP.
Guess a sub-boss needed that kind of setup.
These orcs didn't seem worldly, so maybe Kali was some famous hero.
"Bright and thoughtful, everyone loved her. But she stopped coming decades ago. Only me and a few elder shamans remember her."
I looked at Kali. Her eyepatched face didn't meet mine—just the crimson tendrils wriggling toward me.
'No way to peel it off?'
I recalled curse-lifting objects, but nothing seemed capable of extracting the deeply embedded Bell of the End.
"So what's the plan now? That fire's gonna torch the whole floor. Even rain might not reach it."
"Hm..."
The war chief pondered. Not for long.
About a dozen blinks.
"Might as well ditch this jungle while we're at it. Ancestors had reasons, but this turf's cursed. Even draws reverse heroes like you."
"I'm prime hero material, aren't I?"
"Ha! Shameless. Anyway, we're going. And... I know she's not the Kali I knew anymore... but take good care of her."
Without waiting for my reply, the war chief vanished into the orc crowd.
True to his request, I slung an arm over Kali's shoulder. Up close, the damp tendrils brushing my cheek weren't pleasant, but I'd think it over.
Alright, time to snag those rewards.