Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 152
Chapter Title: A Friend Like That (7)
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A blade suddenly jutted out from someone's neck.
Puk!
“Hehek!”
The scream turned into a wind-whistling wail as a hole gaped open in his throat. As the blade scraped free of flesh, blood sprayed out like a downpour, pattering everywhere. Clutching the gushing wound that leaked air and blood alike, the mercenary toppled to the floor with a thud.
The next victim was the mercenary to his left.
“Hngh! Wh-what... Kkgh!”
Before he could even register the shock, a dagger plunged into his back.
Puk!
The deeply embedded blade split skin and exposed glistening red muscle. No hand gripped the hilt—it was as if his back had split itself open. The mercenary crumpled to his knees like a beast on the verge of being skinned.
The invisible shadow continued to weave mercilessly through the basement, butchering the mercenaries one after another.
“Uwaaaaaah!!”
“Sh-shit, what the hell!! Shit, what's going on!!”
“Uwaaaah!! Stay away!! Don't come any closer!!”
Puk, shhk!
Whoosh!
Blood and flames erupted like hellish fireworks, and the mercenaries dropped like felled scarecrows. Resistance was impossible. Evasion was impossible. The assassin didn't just hide his form—he muffled his presence to the point where it barely registered as human.
It felt like fighting a ghost... or a demon.
In the blink of an eye, nearly half the mercenaries lay mangled corpses. The survivors panicked, swinging their weapons wildly or cursing with pale, ashen faces.
“Kwaaaaaah!!”
“M-magic!! The merchant used magic!”
“He made a pact with a demon! He's hiding with demonic power... Gghk!!”
“......”
The mercenaries' captain, Aluven, was in the best shape among them. He calmly scanned his surroundings and pinpointed the true cause.
'That cloak... must be an artifact. Probably one that conceals the wearer. But rampaging like that isn't the artifact's doing. At a glance, this guy's movements and swordsmanship are top-notch...'
This was a disaster. They'd only been wary of that barbarian. Who could've guessed the shabby merchant had such sharp fangs hidden away...? All they remembered was how he'd been effortlessly beaten when they'd gone to collect a debt in the past. This was completely outside their expectations.
Still, they weren't entirely helpless. Examining the carnage closely, Aluven quickly spotted the enemy's weakness.
“Everyone, grab the torches off the wall! If it touches the light, his form shows up!”
“......!”
He was right.
The Night Shadow Mantle only worked in shade and darkness. Indirect light was tolerable, but direct flame outlined the wearer clearly. The mercenaries rushed to the walls, snatching up torches in a frenzy.
Yet the situation barely improved.
“Damn it, hand it over! Give me that torch!”
“Shut up! I grabbed it first... Krgh!”
Puk!
There weren't enough wall-mounted torches, inevitably creating dark blind spots. Those left in the shadows—and those fighting over torches—lost their lives next. Aluven finally decided they had to escape.
“Calm down! Everyone, stay sharp and circle up around those with torches! Watch all four directions and head out of the basement!”
“Hnggh, t-together!”
“C-Captain... what about all that gold...?”
“Damn it, who cares! Leave it and get out first! Sir clerk, this way! We'll head straight for the exit!”
“Ughh... A-Aluven...”
Aluven held a torch in one hand and gripped the clerk's arm with the other. He cleaved through the darkness with flames and broke for the exit. The clerk's son tripped behind him, but other mercenaries sacrificed themselves as shields, allowing a successful escape.
Unfortunately, survivors were few. Including the clerk, his son, and Aluven himself, only about seven remained.
It was hard to believe they'd suffered such losses to just one man. The mercenaries waiting outside widened their eyes and rushed over.
“Captain? What happened? We heard screams from below...”
“Huh? Why aren't the rest coming up?”
“......”
Aluven first evacuated the clerk and his son, then ordered the basement entrance surrounded. The outsiders looked baffled, but the fresh escapees hurriedly obeyed, forming a semicircle around the entrance and tensing every nerve.
The basement ghost didn't emerge from the entrance.
He appeared right in the midst of the encircling mercenaries.
“Die, you bastard...”
Puk, shhk!
“Krgh!”
“Uwaaaaaah!!”
“Hngghhh!”
Another neck was pierced, and someone collapsed. The surrounding mercenaries scattered in blind terror. They stared at the attacker, wondering when and how he'd appeared—as if possessed by a spirit.
“...Hoo.”
Duncan silently shook the blood from his blade.
He didn't bother explaining how he'd slipped out with them, masking his presence amid the chaos. He simply charged relentlessly to finish off the remnants.
Puk, whoosh!
“Kheeeh!”
“Sh-shit!! What, what is that fire!!”
He dodged clumsy swings, slamming hellfire into one's solar plexus. He parried a flail and sliced an arm. The group scattered in panic and fear. Even without the mantle's stealth, Duncan handled them effortlessly alone.
But Aluven, hanging back, quickly assessed objectively.
'...No. He's good, but not overwhelming. When visible, we can fight him. They're just scared stiff and getting pushed back...'
The solution was simple. He himself would step in.
Aluven closed on Duncan in a flash, drawing his sword like lightning.
Shing—slash!
Duncan sensed the approach beforehand. Still, for an unexpected reason, his forearm took a shallow cut.
Skrtch!
“Kgh!”
The sword in Aluven's hand.
Only the hilt was visible—the blade itself was transparent.
His men backed off warily. Aluven wiped the blood from his blade and smirked crookedly.
“Kekeke... Far more dangerous than I thought, Mr. Duncan. But your rampage ends here. Dodging this invisible blade isn't easy.”
“......”
“And crawling back underground would be unwise. You've hidden your son well for now, but we'll find him once we get serious—it's only a matter of time.”
A flicker of dismay crossed Duncan's face. Aluven regained his composure and flicked the 10-ruden gold coin in his hand.
Ting! Ring...
“I'll return your 'life fee' from earlier. I won't die in this fight. Ah, actually, I should pay you more.”
“......”
“Don't worry. I'll send you off with plenty for the afterlife, Mr. Duncan. Enough to share with your family... kekeke...”
“...You son of a bitch!!”
Duncan charged with eyes ablaze in fury. Aluven kept calm, raising his hilt.
Whoosh, clang—ring!!
Red trails clashed against a bladeless shadow. He couldn't see the blade's form, but he could predict its path from the hilt's direction. Duncan sharpened his senses to the limit, blocking the unseen strikes for a while.
But he soon hit his limit.
Hoo—hum, puk!
“Kgh!”
Aluven knew how to maximize his weapon's advantage. Feint a slash into a thrust, tilt the hilt then snap it straight—unpredictable shifts. Failing to block, wounds small and large accumulated on Duncan's body.
And Aluven wasn't alone. His men crept in during lapses.
Thud, thwack!
“Hah, die, you rat bastard!”
“Damn pest! How many of us died because of you?!”
“Kgh... Kghk...”
Rage cooled to ice. Clubs and flails brought bone-deep pain. Breath came short, muscles trembled. Honestly, fighting this long alone without hitting stamina limits would've been the real surprise.
Aluven sealed it with a stab to Duncan's forearm.
Puk!
“Good work, Mr. Duncan. Now rest easy.”
“Khek!”
The bloodied steel dagger fell limply. Aluven kicked it away. Without a moment to breathe, he went for the neck.
Then, a clear, ringing shout echoed.
“E-Everyone, stop!”
The invisible blade halted abruptly. The mercenaries' gazes turned to the stairs.
There stood Duncan's son, Dunsen.
“S-Stop! Uncles, stop bullying my dad now!”
“...D-Dunsen?”
Duncan wore a look of alarm. The mercenaries and Aluven, meanwhile, couldn't hide their sinister smirks. They'd planned to find him later, but here he was, delivering himself...
“Kekeke... There you are, kid. But stop bullying your dad? What does that mean? Can't you see all these uncles your dad cut down—invisibly?”
“E-Even so, you shouldn't... You'd better stop. If not, if not...”
“If not? What'll you do? Tattle to your mom?”
“...U-Uncles, you're all gonna die.”
As Aluven and the mercenaries opened their mouths for mocking laughter in disbelief—
A spine-chilling dread seized them.
A shadow loomed behind them unseen.
An overwhelming presence strangled their breath. Gooseflesh prickled their arms, electricity jolted their spines. Faces full of mirth froze like ice.
Thud.
One step. The mere sound made hearts pound like war drums. They had to turn and face the intruder, but none dared move. It felt like certain doom the moment they did—inevitable death.
A heavy voice rumbled through the ceiling.
“You alright, Duncan? You look like hell.”
Duncan's eyes widened hugely.
“M-Master...? H-How are you here...?”
Kadim jerked his chin toward the upper stairs.
“Came back because I promised to help your boy. But your confident words from yesterday stuck with me, so I watched first.”
“......”
“Didn't think the guy who took down Agon’s Furious Horn would struggle against small fry like this.”
Duncan wore an expression caught between laughter and tears. The mercenaries, turning late, blanched earthen and stammered.
“Demon Slayer. The Demon Slayer's here...”
“What? D-Demon Slayer...?”
“Uhgh, th-that's the real Demon Slayer...”
There was no clear proof he was the 'Demon Slayer.' But one man's shout plunged them into blind faith. Only Aluven clung to reason.
'Damn it, Demon Slayer my ass... Still, his size and aura are overwhelming. Can't go head-on. Grab the kid or Duncan as hostage first...'
His scheme was crushed before it began.
Whirr, crack!
“Ghk!”
Whoosh, thud!
“Hngh, hngh!”
A subordinate sneaking toward Dunsen met an axe blade. A step toward Duncan was blocked by hellfire slamming at his feet. The barbarian who landed both throws perfectly without a miss growled flatly.
“Don't move. Movers die.”
No empty threat. The mercenaries froze like dead logs.
Hoo—hum, hoo—hum, whish, clack!
Kadim retrieved his axe and strode through the halted mercenaries. He hauled Duncan up, glanced at the corpses, and nodded slightly.
“Still, impressive progress. Thought your talent was hopeless at first, but not quite. Polish it a bit more, and you'll be reliably useful.”
“M-Master...”
“But your finishing's sloppy. One stab doesn't always kill.”
“...?”
“Tell your boy to look away for a sec.”
Duncan bewilderedly signaled his son. As Dunsen awkwardly turned and crouched, Kadim stomped a downed mercenary's head with full force.
Kwah—crunch!
“Gek!”
A guttural cry, and the skull exploded. The mercenary faking death for a chance lost his life like a crushed egg. To the survivors, it looked like their own futures. Even Aluven couldn't stay composed.
'My god, barefoot crushing a skull like that...? Is he really the 'Demon Slayer'...? Damn it, we picked the wrong fight... No, wait... maybe...'
A surprise blow might land. How do you block an invisible blade to the back of the head? Just one solid hit...
Aluven crept behind Kadim, then swung with all his might.
Shing—slash! Thunk!
His perfect strike was futilely blocked.
The blade stuck fast, like in rock. Before his eyes: thick thumb and forefinger. So beyond comprehension, it took time to process. His overloaded mind stuttered to the right conclusion.
The barbarian had caught the transparent blade with two fingers.
“Invisible blade, huh? Neat weapon.”
“Uh, uhh...?”
“Pity your sword arm's crap.”
No time for shock. Kadim twisted his fingers, casually snatching the sword. Ambush failed, weapon lost. Aluven flailed in panic, grabbing a subordinate's club and swinging desperately.
“G-Give it back! Do you know how I got that sword...?”
Thud!
“Egh!”
Of course, no effect on Kadim. Instead, Aluven himself suffered more—the wrist wrenching painfully as he clutched it, groaning.
Seeing that sparked an intriguing idea in Kadim's mind.
Not just killing the mercenaries, but screwing over their employer family—and Duncan's rude neighbors too. A very entertaining idea.
He didn't hesitate long.
“...Ha, that was a pretty stinging club swing.”
Kadim smirked crookedly and put the idea into action right away.