Chapter 89
Marian had arrived.
"That bastard's trying to buy time."
Did I fall for it? I bit my lower lip, staring blankly at Bahamons, who was gazing right at my face. He'd seen through my plan, it seemed, and without another word, he unleashed a barrage of spells at me.
I could see spheres packed with deathly energy hurtling toward my body. Kicking off the ground, I dodged frantically. The land tainted by his death magic let out a sinister hiss as it blackened and rotted away.
For a split second, I worried about Karen's condition, but right now, the priority was dealing with Bahamons. If I didn't stop him, it wouldn't just be her—the dwarf shitheads would get massacred too.
"Not bad. Pretty nimble, aren't you?"
"Shut your trap, you fucking old geezer!"
I charged, sword tip aimed straight at his face, yelling as I went. I knew it wouldn't finish him off, but offense was the best defense. Just like I felt pain from wounds, restoring his body took time and death magic for him too.
"I'm not some old geezer!"
Bahamons shouted back, conjuring a black shield in midair. BOOM! The clash of sword and shield exploded with a deafening roar that beggared belief. I leaped back and flung sword aura at him.
Slash. Something sharp cut through the air, but when I checked, disappointment hit me hard. Skeleton soldiers lurking nearby had thrown themselves in the way, nullifying my attack to protect him.
"This is my battlefield, you greenhorn hero."
Bahamons sneered at me and began casting again. Murky orbs that looked like they'd rot your soul on sight filled the sky, then surged toward me.
Fuck. Gonna give me a phobia of crowds.
Grinding my teeth, I swung my sword wildly. In that moment, no stray thoughts—just pure focus on slicing everything around me.
BOOM, KABOOM. The death magic touching my blade detonated in blasts, but I cleaved through even the shockwaves.
Why the hell isn't she here yet?
I bit my lip harder. Even if the saintess showed up, it was iffy whether it'd change things, but right now, Marian was my only hope. Face burning with frustration, I glared at Bahamons. He looked smug as ever, just flicking his fingers and firing more black orbs my way.
Jibo.
I stamped the ground and blurred into motion. The Mercenary Empress's signature footwork fooled even Bahamons' eyes. Circling behind him in a flash, I thrust at his skull.
"Got you."
Not my voice—his. BOOM! Bone shards from the ground erupted, pummeling my body. Agony like being shredded alive ripped through me, but I clenched my jaw, swallowing the scream. Even as I was flung back, I swung Katrin's sword, unleashing sword aura.
CRACK! His right arm snapped and hit the dirt. But strictly speaking, I had taken the worse hit.
"H-Hero..."
Blood gushing from my gut, I saw the dwarves staring with grim faces. Yanking out the massive bone shard embedded in my stomach and tossing it aside, I fixed Bahamons with a glare. Even then, I felt the wound knitting slowly, flesh regenerating.
"Is that the goddess's power? Fascinating."
Bahamons eyed my rapid healing with keen curiosity. As someone who'd half-achieved immortality himself, it made sense he'd be interested in the goddess's handiwork.
"Yeah, nothing like your cheap knockoff, huh?"
The long-forgotten pain fueled my rage as I taunted him back.
"Please, snap out of it, Saintess!"
Jena von Darius galloped furiously toward the hero. Glimpses of skeleton soldiers along the way to the dwarf city suggested the battle had been raging for a while.
"Ugh... N-No... need..."
But the saintess, for some reason, wasn't in her right mind. Jena had picked up on her feelings for the hero, so this reaction felt off—unnervingly so, stirring some inexplicable anxiety.
Still, as a noblewoman's daughter, Jena was more accustomed to confronting unease than cowering from it. Her mind was fixed solely on reaching the hero.
"You idiot!"
Spitting a light curse, she swung her sword again. Mounted swordplay wasn't her forte, but these were Demon King Army rabble—skeletons not even worthy of the main force. They crumbled without daring to block her strikes.
"Faster—gallop!"
Urging her horse on, she plowed through the horde. Breaking through hundreds solo was a sight straight out of a fairy tale, but alas, no audience to witness it.
"Ugh, ah—no!"
Drunken Saintess Marian snapped to awareness just as Jena started tiring from carving through skeletons. She'd seen the hero wounded in his lich fight and come to instantly.
Resentment lingered—he ignored her for other women—but it paled against her pure affection for him.
"Finally with us, Marian?"
The moment she sobered, Jena's voice rang out. The usual prickliness was gone; her glamorous look was a dusty, sweaty mess.
"What're you doing? Hurry up!"
"You crazy bitch!"
Marian grasped the situation from Jena's state but shamelessly prodded her anyway. Nothing trumped the hero's safety.
Jena's face soured in an instant, but Marian's mind brimmed only with visions of the bleeding hero.
"Can't you see these skeletons? Even if I try to break through, more keep coming!"
Jena yelled, injustice etched on her face. She wanted to reach him just as badly.
Knowing that, Marian coldly scanned ahead. Endless ranks of bone corpses blocked the path.
Skeletons... scum.
She gnashed her teeth at the obstacles, biting her lower lip so hard fresh crimson blood welled from her red lips.
Die. Just fucking die.
She yearned desperately for them to vanish—and once more, her wish birthed a miracle.
"Kyaaack!"
"Krrraaak!"
Bright light poured from Marian's body. The skeletons recoiled in terror, but the radiance spread faster, dissolving them on contact like they'd never existed.
A m-miracle...!
Jena, witnessing it clearly, cried out inwardly. Her faith in the goddess was shallow, but nothing else explained the scene. Exhausted, she still traced the holy sign, invoking the divine.
But Marian's voice from behind cut short her reverence, forcing her to spur the horse onward.
"What're you spacing out for? Ride! Hurry!"
W-What's happening?
Bahamons couldn't hide his bewilderment, jaw trembling. Everything had been going to plan. He'd been overwhelming the hero; weary dwarves were slowly yielding to his skeletons.
He couldn't kill the "immortal" hero, but the dwarf city was nearly his.
Then chaos erupted at the rear. Reserve forces left for potential reinforcements melted away in moments—an impossibility even for long-lived Bahamons. Even Baal couldn't erase skeletons that fast.
"Tch. She made it?"
Worse, the hero's attitude—like he'd predicted it all—rattled him further.