Chapter 367
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 367
Chapter Title: No Need to Hurry
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Momentarily frozen.
"...Huh?"
It was the instant he was about to reach out.
Meaning, if nothing strange hadn't prickled at his senses right then.
"What the hell is this?"
Branga furrowed his brow.
Under normal circumstances, he never would have stopped.
Capturing Hasneti was his long-cherished ambition, and he had no desire to let even the sky falling get in the way.
That's why he'd deliberately lured her to this place.
But there was one problem.
The connections to some of the summons he'd stationed all around had suddenly been severed.
'My children died without even sending a signal? All at once, dozens of aggro beasts?'
It could only be because the opponent was something beyond specs, like the Seven Dragon Society's princess or her close aides, or even the Seven Dragon Guard.
His summons were far from weak.
If he'd ordered them to kill rather than subdue unharmed, they could have taken down exhausted foes like Rose and Hasneti without him even stepping in.
Yet dozens had vanished in an instant.
It was utterly absurd.
'And what the hell is this location?'
Even stranger was where the summons had fallen.
Not here with Rose and Hasneti, nor near the Azure Dragon Guard or Crimson Dragon Guard—it was the outskirts, far removed.
Branga had intentionally scattered the interlopers apart for this grand scheme, but he had no memory of anyone dropping into that spot.
That left only one conclusion.
'An intruder...? No, a rescue team?'
Not trapped, but someone who'd crawled in here of their own accord.
Frankly, it was hard to believe.
That someone had come looking to save Hasneti.
That some lunatic had walked in here on their own two feet.
His bewilderment lasted only a moment.
Soon, Branga wore a sneer.
'Guess they've gone mad wanting to die.'
From wiping out dozens of summons in a flash, he could tell the opponents were fairly strong.
Even so, Branga didn't lose his composure.
This place, specially prepared to capture Hasneti, was like his own belly, teeming with hundreds of summons at every key point.
Breaking through that horde and navigating the labyrinthine interior to reach here... even a pinnacle master couldn't...
No, not even another lord could manage it.
That's why he could still smirk leisurely, even after sensing another batch of summons evaporate.
Slash.
'Hm, definitely some skilled bastards, huh?'
Riiip.
'Maybe even elders from the Crimson Dragon Clan. Those old monsters are all pinnacle masters.'
Stab.
'...But no matter what, they can't keep up that momentum forever.'
Thud.
'...'.
But Branga's laughter didn't last.
100, 200, 300...
As the deployed summons dwindled rapidly, his leisure vanished, replaced by deep doubt and suspicion etching his face.
Even if pinnacle masters had come in droves, this speed was excessive.
Whether from how every monster melted away like ice,
Or how, in this convoluted maze, they advanced steadily and persistently toward him.
'Damn, annoying as hell.'
That was why.
He'd sent a thousand summons as a lump sum.
Even to leisurely savor the long-awaited Hasneti's body, he wanted to clear out the irritants quickly.
For that, Branga even used Sensory Synchronization to share vision with his summons.
Until now, the summons had fallen to surprise attacks.
With a thousand under his direct command, even Crimson Dragon elders wouldn't stand a chance.
Branga had no doubt.
Riiip!
"...!"
Something flashed.
Before he could process it, dozens of leading summons had their waists severed and collapsed en masse.
But that was just the beginning.
Slash.
Boom!
Crunch!
"Wh-what the hell is this?"
A head bounced into the air like a cannonball, smashing other summons.
Something thin as spider silk sliced across, scattering chunks of summons like butchered meat.
The light sound of three steps echoed, and then dozens of heads tumbled down.
A true field of carnage.
Branga couldn't hide his dismay at the corpses piling up with every blink.
They were clearly under attack.
Yet desperately scanning through the summons' vision yielded no sight of the enemy.
'Invisibility? Or too fast? Even so, with multiple foes, they shouldn't be this invisible.'
'No way... this is all one guy's doing?'
'Anyway, not the time!'
'Gotta take command...!'
His panic, like facing a ghost, was brief.
Horrified at hundreds more summons shredded in seconds, Branga scrambled to properly direct the rest against the foe.
Or tried to.
Stab!
"Gah!"
If the neck of the summon he'd been synced with hadn't flown off.
Staggering from the shock transmitted via Sensory Synchronization, Branga hastily regained his wits and tried syncing with another.
But right after.
He could only gape.
Not just because the remaining summons had been wiped out in the blink while he recovered.
He felt the intruder sweeping them aside even faster, closing in.
Like a beast that had finally pinpointed its prey.
"Everyone, battle stations! Battle ready!"
That's why.
Branga hurriedly maneuvered his summons to encircle the area.
The crisis sense that any delay might repeat the recent slaughter spurred him on.
Just as he'd barely assumed formation.
Step.
From the shadowed passage.
Came faint footsteps from afar.
Step.
Whether wary of the monster horde,
Or because there was no more need to rush.
The steps echoed slowly, as if denying the unstoppable advance that had pierced countless summons.
Step.
At the end of those frustratingly languid steps, the foe finally emerged from the dark.
Branga's eyes bulged involuntarily.
"...What the? Why the hell are you popping up?"
Glinting golden hair.
Brown skin without a drop of blood.
A small, slender frame.
A blonde tanned boy who defied belief as the one who'd carved through hundreds of monsters to reach here.
Rimon didn't answer Branga's question.
He merely turned his head slowly.
Gazing at Rose, battered and bound in vines.
Then at Hasneti, bloodied, her torn clothes exposing skin.
After confirming Branga's hand, soaked in blood, Rimon finally spoke lowly.
"Honestly, I wasn't sure what was going on, so I figured I'd hear you out first if possible..."
With a cold face stripped of his usual apathy.
In a voice lazily subdued, yet all the more chilling for it.
Rimon stepped forward.
"But no words needed for a bastard like you, right?"
Gripping his hand as he took a step.
Kicking off lightly for another.
Spinning midair for the third.
In three steps, crossing countless monsters, Rimon arrived before Branga and tensed his arm.
Twisting his waist.
Channeling the spin's momentum.
Toward wide-eyed Branga, he swung a sword too long and heavy for his frame.
Riiip!
One head fell.
A spray of crimson blood splashed Rimon's cheek.
The speed was lightning incarnate.
Even this era's absolute lord dying instantly without resistance wouldn't seem odd—it felt inevitable.
"H-Hek!"
That's why.
Branga's face paled as he clutched his own neck.
'Wh-what? What just happened?'
Cold sweat poured.
He knew, deep down.
Rimon had appeared before him in a blink and severed his neck.
Thanks to that, his derivative skill Gate of Life activated, swapping positions with a summon that took the death in his stead.
Normally, he'd boast triumphantly that ambushes don't work on him.
But not now.
Not just because Rimon's otherworldly ability crossed sealed space like nothing.
That sword flash like light.
The eerie sensation of his neck being sliced.
Above all, that bizarre glint in Rimon's eyes as he struck.
It sent chills like ice water dumped over him.
But only briefly.
Swallowing a breath to forcibly calm his trembling, Branga scoffed.
"Ha! So you're the hidden ace up their sleeve, punk? But even so..."
Bragging to assert his vitality, he trailed off.
Rimon, unfazed by his survival, ignored his words entirely and reached for the floor.
Swish.
Whatever trick he'd used.
He pulled an upper garment from the shadows and draped it over Hasneti, then took out medicine and bandages.
"How's the body holding up, Pharaoh?"
"...I'm fine."
"Good, hang in there a bit. This is painkiller—take more if it hurts bad."
Disinfecting wounds.
Stopping bleeding with hemostatic.
Wrapping her abdomen in bandages.
With precision and speed that would astonish a doctor, Rimon finished first aid, fed her painkillers, then stood.
Watching blankly, Branga muttered skeptically.
"Kid, good form prioritizing your queen consort and all..."
Slash.
"...Hey?"
Whether Branga called from behind or not.
Rimon didn't respond.
He simply butchered the monster holding Rose and sliced her binding vines.
"Sorry I'm late, sis. I was dashing around blocking your energy from scattering, but then it suddenly went quiet, so I came in and found this mess."
"No, I'm the one sorry for troubling you."
It wasn't just Rimon's attitude, deeming him unworthy of even a glance.
Rose, who moments ago glared murderously at him, now beamed warmly—was this the same woman?
And Hasneti clutching the jacket from Rimon, fiddling with the medicine vial.
That drove him to bellow.
"What're you staring at? Kill that bastard now!"
If blame must be assigned, it was on him for not ordering sooner.
Ignoring that, Branga's misplaced rage spurred the monsters regardless.
Summon-like, they charged Rimon on command.
Rumble!
High-level monsters, each capable of toppling buildings or crushing tanks.
Thousands swarming was a sight to terrify even top-rank players.
Threatening even to the gravely wounded princesses.
Yet smiling Rose.
And cold-faced Hasneti.
Faced the horde without fear or tension.
Composed as if the monsters weren't there.
Because they knew—as Seven Dragon Society princesses who'd confronted an absolute being for centuries before falling for one man.
That Branga was no longer a concern.
No matter the numbers, none could harm them.
Riiip!
"No need to hurry."
Slicing charging monsters like paper from the side.
With his remaining arm, lightly scooping Rose to Hasneti's side and dropping a few small statues.
Rimon slowly turned.
As if only now willing to engage.
With softly glowing golden eyes fixed on Branga, he continued lowly.
"I'll kill you even without the rush."