He's Not After My Ass, Right? (Revised)
The subjugation team's discoveries of the evil god followers' dens were incredibly diverse. Abandoned mines, crumbling ruins, dark swamps, underground caves... The followers had hidden themselves remarkably well in every conceivable spot, but the team rooted them all out without mercy, wiping them clean.
Do they have some special tracking method?
"You bastard. Where do you think you're looking..."
-Shwick!!!
Having already smashed over ten dens, I watched the team's relentless advance while casually slicing down the evil god follower approaching me with a now-familiar motion.
This batch worshiped the Apocalypse Beast and had evolved into advanced forms, adapting to their surroundings with movements that transcended the limits of life itself...
-Vmmm!!!
But the moment a brilliant light settled over my body, mine surged to match theirs—no, surpass them.
"W-what is this...!"
"Hup."
-Thwack!!
I spun the mana in my core, practicing the principles of Explosive Sword as I swung. His skull split open, and he dropped dead on the spot.
But I grimaced, rubbing my throbbing arm.
Damn. This is brutally tough.
The Explosive Sword technique I'd finally grasped with Clarice's advice. Yet putting it into practice was a nightmare to control. Without the buff she'd just cast on me, I might've lost control and shattered my own arm.
Suddenly buffing me like that.
I eyed Clarice with a strange look as she single-handedly carved through three followers, golden light streaming from her.
During our night watch together, she'd offered advice on Explosive Sword, and I'd thought her suspicions had eased a bit. The buff seemed to confirm it...
-Snap!!
But no—her gaze monitoring me felt even sharper and more relentless than before.
No. Why? The vibe was good yesterday, wasn't it?
It felt like her doubts had deepened. I couldn't figure out why. And yet she was still buffing me.
Followers of one of the five righteous gods, the Judge of Justice, received the power called Blessing of Enhancement. It boosted physical abilities and all sorts of other capacities in the target. Think of it like the buffs in the games I used to play back on Earth—easy enough to grasp.
Not just my physical strength, but my senses are sharper too. I can swing this sword all day without tiring.
Karen had rated me top-tier C-Rank, but this buff alone elevated me to match most B-Rank adventurers. The boost itself was great, but...
Her gaze had grown even colder, and that gnawed at me.
Screw it. Time to train.
Clarice had always suspected me anyway, so I gave up trying to understand and focused on practicing Explosive Sword with the buff's power. The heightened senses it granted were perfect for honing the technique.
"...Still, I can't quite master it. Is it beyond my current level?"
Even with the buff's help, perfecting Explosive Sword at my stage was impossible. Karen herself, who'd taught me, had declared I'd never fully master it.
'Got it? Once you're used to the idea of detonating mana, don't force the full Explosive Sword—just nail one strike...'
Recalling her words, I raised my sword again.
"Look at that guy."
"Tch. Can't stand it. His form's getting sloppier with the buff. No fundamentals?"
"He's been repeating the same move forever. So crude..."
A momentary lapse in focus, and the trash-talk aimed at me drifted into my ears again.
I was using tiny amounts of mana deliberately for practice, so unless someone was extremely sensitive to flows, they couldn't tell what I was doing from afar. To them, I just looked like an idiot swinging with terrible form.
They keep at it.
Fair enough. To outsiders, I looked like I couldn't control my newfound strength from the buff. I got it, but it still pissed me off. What grated more was how blatant they were—no one stepped in to shut it down.
Clarice... not getting involved, huh.
I felt her eyes on me again after she'd finished off three more, but she showed no sign of intervening. Weird. Hadn't she implied during night watch that she'd curb this kind of harassment from the adventurers?
-Vwoom!!!
I ignored the muttering fools behind me and swung silently, repeating that one motion on purpose. Honestly, direct attackers scared me more than these backbiters. What was truly unnerving was...
"Don't let it get to you. People with nothing to show always trash others for comfort."
"...Ah, sure."
Yohan, swooping in right after combat like a ghost to console and chat me up. The guys badmouthing me from afar? Fine. But this guy terrified me more.
He kept approaching despite my obvious discomfort and cold shoulder. It looked caring on the surface, like he was looking out for the loner...
"You're doing plenty well, Yuseong."
-Pat pat.
His hand on my shoulder. The handshake on day one, now this... Yohan had a habit of casual touches from the start.
This guy's not after my ass, is he...?
No matter how I pushed him away, he came back friendly. Frequent contact too. My existing unease about him swelled into nameless dread.
I shook him off vaguely again and escaped with a low sigh.
Next night watch, ask Clarice if Yohan's gay or... wait, what?
Brushing my shoulder where he'd touched—creepy vibes—something snagged my fingers.
Thread? No, hair?
A thin strand of platinum blonde. Recalling the mild-mannered man's matching hair, chills ran down my spine. I nearly flung it away, but...
...Nah.
I pocketed it instead.
......
The subjugation op progressed smoothly into day five. No major incidents—just steady elimination of nearly a hundred followers.
Damn, there are tons of them.
Compared to the one or two I'd encountered before, I felt lucky. They were like cockroaches. The upside? Groups were weaklings, no real threat.
"Tomorrow, we raid the ruins held by the Heart of the Abyss's minions. It'll be the largest nest yet, so prepare thoroughly."
Looks like the easy sweeps ended today.
Heart of the Abyss...
So far, I'd faced four types: minions of King of All Sins, Twisted Life, Lord of Myriad Demons, and Apocalypse Beast. Each wielded powers matching their god.
King of All Sins: grew stronger with sin.
Twisted Life: necromancy over undead.
Lord of Myriad Demons: demonic energy and racial traits.
Apocalypse Beast: endless evolution.
And Clarice was hinting tomorrow's foes were a new one I'd yet to meet.
Every type except Deceptive Doubt. Figures.
Sighing at how often I tangled with these rare followers, I recalled what I knew of the evil god Heart of the Abyss.
The evil god overseeing others' downfall.
People burn with envy toward the successful or superior. Sometimes it escalates beyond envy—pure spite to drag them down for no reason other than jealousy. The Heart of the Abyss embodies that selfishness.
Its followers, called "Fallen Ones," wield a fitting power: the Power of Fall.
A debuff that crashes strength, concepts, mind—everything. Or so I've heard. Hard to picture.
Tomorrow I'd learn firsthand. Familiar powers had been manageable, but the unknown worried me.
"Hey. Get ready for night watch."
...Fuck.
No time to dwell—camp setup began, and an adventurer barked at me curtly. Honestly, screw the Fallen Ones; these assholes seemed worse. Two more days, though. I pitched my tent sloppily, couldn't even lie down, and headed out for watch.
But there...
Huh?
"Excuse me. Is Lady Clarice not here?"
"Why are you looking for her?"
Another holy knight arrived at the same time—not Clarice. I tilted my head.
What? She always synced with me... Observation over?
Did that mean no more worrying about her? But her gaze had sharpened...
At least tonight's watch will be relaxed...
Relief washed over me at escaping her persistent stare—reason unknown—when...
"I just don't get it. Why would Lady Clarice... Tch."
Oh.
Now a holy knight—not even an adventurer—was picking on me.
......
Looks like it wasn't just adventurers who hated my guts.
......
"Goddamn. Is that guy even a holy knight?"
After an even more uncomfortable shift than with Clarice, I dragged my utterly drained mind back to my tent.
'Don't delude yourself. Without Lady Clarice's mercy, a low adventurer like you wouldn't be in this glorious subjugation force...'
'Keeps eyeing her. She's beyond scum like you.'
The holy knight praising Clarice while treating me like a parasite clinging to her. And since she'd watched me so much, I'd glanced back consciously—now twisted into me leering at her.
"Holy knights are all the same."
I'd figured Justice Church knights were all righteous paragons. Nope.
They were human too—lust, admiration, whatever. Clarice's iciness toward me probably fueled their disdain.
Blame her entirely. Joined this crap quest because of her, got suspected, everyone bitching...
"Goddamn."
The more I thought, the angrier I got. Wasn't the mood improving? Why back to square one?
And that creepy Yohan on top of it.
Body fine, but mentally wrecked. If I didn't vent this stress now, I'd die of frustration.
"First things first. Check it..."
Craved sleep, but one task remained. The platinum hair from Yohan I'd snagged earlier. Had plans for it.
"Where'd I put it...?"
Fishing for Yohan's strand, I grabbed one that felt right.
It was...
"Huh?"
Not platinum—blonde.
Clarice's?
How'd I end up with hers? Habit of pocketing hair first, check later? Yohan's was still there anyway. Close call.
Put this back...
...Wait.
Not what I wanted, but holding Clarice's hair, a strange mood gripped me.
Weeks of built-up stress. Drowsy post-watch. Fury at her...
She doesn't surveil inside tents, right?
Refined mana sense from Explosive Sword practice let me scan the tent interior. Good—her obsessive watch didn't pierce it. Premium tent too: no light or sound leaked.
Hmm.
I rolled the golden strand between my fingers. Recalled her all day—no, this whole quest—as the root of my stress.
"Fuck."
Stress, sleepiness, pent-up lust from the mission. All colliding, I wasn't thinking straight. Impulse won.
"Replicate."
Not Yohan's platinum lock, but Clarice's blonde hair in my grip. I activated it.