Chapter 229
Chapter 229
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 229
Chapter Title: No Loose Ends
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Pa-ba-ba-ba-bat!
Dazzling footsteps beyond compare. With every step, the metallic tang of blood wafted through the air.
One might expect bodies to freeze under that ferocious madness and stench of death.
Yet those facing this savage genius showed not the slightest flinch in their expressions.
It was inevitable. Any living person would be affected by that menacing aura, but lifeless dolls couldn't sense hostility or anything else.
Clunk!
A change rippled across the face of the doll that resembled a human—but wasn't one.
Fooosh!
Nene's mouth opened, spewing emerald-green gas toward the approaching Yuda.
The gas obscured vision and dominated the battlefield in an instant.
Within that haze dulling the senses, only Nene's master, Saladin, remained unaffected.
"Hmph!"
Was he deeming it arrogant to think one could rule that space? Even amid the irregular circumstances, Yuda snorted and his sword moved like lightning.
Shuuwaaak!
His sword, twinkling like a galaxy filled with starlight, scattered Nene's gas in a blink, as if scorning its irreverence.
Vision cleared in a flash. Yuda's blade targeted Mimi's torso without pause, slicing vertically.
No telling what tricks this sinister heretic might pull. Aiming for a small spot like the neck could backfire.
That's why the torso.
No matter how many hidden weapons it concealed, destroying the core that drove all its movements would render the doll combat-ineffective.
"I'll slice this pathetic toy in half."
Yuda's eyes gleamed red. If relying solely on a mere doll was all it had, the bastard would die here today.
First, cleave this filthy puppet in two. Just before Yuda's sword reached Mimi's crown.
"Knew you'd do that."
Kriik! Clunk!
Saladin curled his lips and flicked his middle finger. Mimi's body split neatly in half, just as Yuda had declared.
But it wasn't quite what Yuda expected. There was no tactile feedback from the severed doll.
No—it wasn't just a lack of feedback; it felt like slicing empty air.
Right before his eyes, Mimi's form split apart on its own.
Yuda's sword had perfectly slipped through the gap.
"What?!"
Where organs should have spilled from a human body, something else erupted instead.
Tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu!
Shurikens, daggers, iron balls, and needles packed inside flew en masse to reap Yuda's life from point-blank range.
'Got him!'
From behind Mimi and Nene, Saladin's fingers tightened gracefully, like conducting an orchestra.
It was true point-blank range.
No matter how much a knight praised as the empire's next-gen genius, no one could survive the indiscriminate barrage of shredding weapons at this distance.
Or so he thought.
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!
A sound like stir-frying beans echoed out.
Bam!
Though described at length, the barrage hitting Yuda and the frying sound occurred in a mere instant.
After that brief noise, Mimi's upper body recoiled violently into the air, followed by a blood-soaked figure.
In this world, to withstand a direct hit from shredders at that range...
"Fucking tough bastard."
Before Nene could follow up, Yuda closed the distance to Saladin in a flash and let out an eerie laugh.
"Ki-hi-hi-hi! Not bad, heretic! But that's your limit!"
Yuda was drenched in blood, yet he couldn't stop laughing.
The storm of hidden weapons exploding from the puppet's innards was a terrifying blow that struck at his blind spot. One slip, and he'd be the one sprawled on that cold floor.
But once again, he'd survived. He'd overcome that brutal killing blow.
Victory's reward was sweet.
Wasn't converting that imperial prince Cale just as thrilling?
This time was no different. Surviving the heretic's vile power to the end, he could prove his devotion at the Lord's altar once more.
"I told you—I'd pickle you and offer you at the Lord's altar."
Yuda couldn't stop laughing at the fact he could fulfill his vow before the Lord again.
But something felt off.
'...?'
An inexplicable unease crept in. Why? He should be swinging his blade of judgment at this blasphemous heretic wielding forbidden power.
Yet for some reason, the distance to the bastard wouldn't close further.
The clear figure distorted strangely, like stretched taffy or rising heat haze, his body wavering.
His body grew heavier. Legs drained of strength rapidly closed the gap to the ground.
Thud!
"...Wha, what's this."
Even his tongue betrayed his will, slowly stiffening. Soon, Yuda's vision went black.
"......"
Step, step.
Saladin approached the motionless Yuda slowly.
Behind Yuda's fallen neck, a tiny needle extended from Nene's fingertip was embedded there.
Violet tendrils from the needle's tip greedily devoured Yuda's cells, spreading their hue as if lying in wait.
Even Saladin, who had deployed it, shuddered at the eerie energy.
"...Seriously vicious stuff."
After escaping Ballista, the treasure handed to him by White Wing Rampang.
When Saladin first saw it—passed like candy from a market stall—he nearly fainted.
Poison Essence.
Containing the essence of that infamous Black Lion, Poison Blood Sage Martin, no less.
A priceless treasure worth more than gold, handed over casually as if it were a roadside pebble.
He'd only installed one needle at the tip of Nene's index finger—the poison-handling doll—ground from that essence.
Never dreamed that single needle would yield such devastating results.
Without the Poison Essence, the fight would've dragged on far longer. And just now, hadn't all his defensive puppets held the line?
In the worst case, he might've had to resort to that technique.
The Poison Essence had ended a prolonged battle swiftly, but Saladin now eyed it with greater caution.
"Gotta use this carefully."
It was a true double-edged sword. Just a tenth of the essence in that needle had claimed the life of the Holy Knight Order Captain, ranked just below the four marquises.
In other words, misuse it, and it could just as easily reap allied lives.
Crumble!
The Poison Essence needle that wrecked Yuda's corpse instantly disintegrated into powder, as if its task was done.
Having fully claimed one 'life,' the essence's utility was spent.
"Let's see... how's it going over there."
Saladin watched for a moment before turning his gaze to the ducal estate's main gate. The battle wasn't over yet.
The 3rd Holy Knight Order didn't falter in the slightest, even without their captain Yuda.
No—truth be told, they couldn't care less about their captain's fate.
If the 7th were called the War Returnees, the 3rd were the Gladiators.
Captain Yuda had ordered the extermination of the Ain race, so they carried it out.
That was all.
The problem was the growing number of Ain falling to their blind obedience.
Thus, Ash and Baukalrak threw everything into cornering Zildre.
"Kraaaang!"
Baukalrak swung his claws, lunar energy manifesting as wolf talons lunging for Zildre's throat.
Groooow!
Ash nocked four arrows infused with different spirits' energies, loosing them in diverging paths to exploit Zildre's openings.
Shuuuwaaaak!
Zildre's grotesquely writhing left arm neutralized Baukalrak's energy.
Bang! Boom!
Magic erupting from his right arm sapped Ash's arrows' power.
"Grrr, that left arm. Really pissing me off."
Baukalrak ground his teeth, unmasking his irritation.
He had reason. Slime traits: complete physical resistance. His wind-pressure techniques and fangs were all physical attacks.
"...Agreed. What a pain."
After Zildre's left arm burst from Ash's arrows, he'd methodically countered Ash with magic and Baukalrak with his arm. He'd realized it was efficient.
Zildre's goal was merely capturing Ain leaders for experiments.
No need to obliterate them recklessly. He figured Yuda would handle them quickly anyway.
The 3rd Order's losses meant nothing to him. Why care if his subordinates died?
But Ash and Baukalrak saw it differently. Their kin were falling, even if slowly.
They couldn't hide their growing impatience. Zildre wouldn't miss that gap.
"Heh, what's wrong? All that bluster, and this is it?"
Crunch!
Baukalrak gnashed his teeth. If only his body were intact. If only he had time.
He'd turn that old human into mincemeat.
The standoff shifted soon after.
Clang!
"Such luck!"
A 3rd Order knight closed on an elf, batting her bow skyward.
Her exposed chest from the shock. The knight thrust his sword brutally toward it.
"......!!"
Imagining the imminent agony, the elf squeezed her eyes shut instinctively.
"......?"
But after some time with eyes closed and no pain, she cracked them open to an unbelievable sight, eyes widening.
The knight's hand, mid-thrust, had a dagger embedded in it; he was foaming at the mouth.
"Snap out of it and fall back. If your side takes heavy losses, I'll catch all the flak again."
"Th-thank you..."
Before the elf finished, Saladin swept away with his puppets like the wind toward other elves.
"......!!"
Ash and Baukalrak wouldn't miss the battlefield shifting with Saladin's arrival.
Ash flashed a mocking smile at Zildre, composure restored.
"What now? Looks like that greenhorn you mentioned won."
Zildre's face twisted demonically.
"Again... that damned greenhorn...!!"
That greenhorn had cost him everything: subordinates, disciples, experiments, and crucially, his master's trust.
Now blocking his path once more.
Grrrrrind!
Blood trickled from Zildre's mouth. Unable to contain rage, he'd bitten down and cracked a tooth.
"...I'll have my revenge. No matter what."
Muttering his vow, Zildre tried to flee. Then, from afar, Saladin—who'd mostly cleared the 3rd Order—twitched his fingers. Mimi leaped.
Pew-pew!
Iron balls and shurikens shot from tongue, calves, elbows toward Zildre.
Splat! Splat!
But as before, blocked by his left arm, they inflicted no damage—merely buying a moment as he chanted.
That was enough.
Slap!
Saladin, now arrived, eyed Zildre.
"Yo, old timer. Long time no see. Still kicking, huh?"
"...Greenhorn...!!"
Zildre glared at Saladin with bloodshot eyes, then took a deep breath to calm himself. He extended his left arm, wrapping his body in a spherical barrier.
"Huh? What're you on about."
Saladin's head tilted at Zildre's resentful voice from within the sphere.
"Why let a guy honing his blade for my head walk? You're dying here, old man."
Zildre scoffed at Saladin's threat.
True enough. Mimi's projectiles couldn't pierce the viscous slime, nor could Nene's poison overcome its acidity.
Fair. That's why his confidence.
"Sorry, but."
Saladin twitched his fingers. Mimi and Nene's bodies, moving like living beings until now, collapsed limply.
He'd retracted the 'threads' from Mimi and Nene.
Shaaa!
Thin steel wires—like nerves—linked to their bodies wove beautifully through the air.
The fluttering threads coiled softly onto Saladin's palm.
Clenching his fists crossed before him, he unleashed them full force at Zildre.
Ten lines—straight, curved—speared every direction toward Zildre.
Those ten lines sliced effortlessly through the slime's fluids and Zildre's inner shield, as if unobstructed from the start.
Beautiful threads embroidering the air. But their endpoints were anything but.
Where Saladin's threads passed, red lines etched across Zildre's stammering, panicked body.
And then.
Fooosh!
Zildre's body exploded into chunks, splattering the ground.
"I never leave loose ends. Not one to repeat mistakes due to poor learning, after all."