Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Every Last One
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Shwaaaaa...
The abilities seeped in.
A powerful wave of force that couldn't be resisted.
Primal power originating from the Earth Spirit.
It burrowed deep into his body.
'...I can see it.'
The first sensation was an expansion of his senses.
A feeling of connection to the earth through the soles of his feet.
As if he were a giant tree with roots sunk deep into the ground.
'Vibrations in the earth, flows of air, movements of living things.'
All the information came flooding in.
A bit rough, but intuitively.
'I know how to use it.'
Natural, as if it had been his from the start.
Familiar sensations repeated hundreds, thousands of times.
'Next...'
Was it just his senses?
His physical body had grown stronger too.
A sensation of bones and muscles tightening like rock.
The overwhelming durability produced by 'Rocky Sinews'.
"Huuuuh..."
A rapturous sensation.
But there was no time to savor this power now.
'The situation isn't good.'
The scene before his eyes was horrific.
A completely collapsed barracks, scattered debris.
And the blood-soaked suicide squad members.
Damian first scanned his surroundings.
'At least it's quiet for now.'
The silver lining was that there were no monsters inside the fortress.
The Earth Spirit's rampage had scared even them away.
They must have felt instinctive fear before an out-of-control disaster.
'But it won't stay safe forever.'
This was the heart of enemy territory.
He had to escape as quickly as possible.
"Lord Governor."
Damian approached Mikhail.
He was standing guard by the fallen suicide squad.
Three survivors: Damian, Mikhail, and Adnen.
Three dead: the Trollbane brothers and Balrog Gardner.
"..."
He first checked the dead.
Gunther and Arsen, the twin knights destined to lead Sobkov's future.
Their bodies were crushed beyond recognition.
Smashed by the Earth Spirit.
And Balrog Gardner.
Sobkov's greatest shield.
He breathed no more.
His final stand blocking the spirit to the end.
'Tragic.'
These were heroes who would be recorded in history.
Retrieving their bodies would be right.
But there was no time for that now.
"...I'm sorry."
Mikhail pulled something from Balrog and the Trollbane brothers' possessions.
Rudely carved wooden dolls.
And the Trollbane family pendant.
Mementos.
"I will never forget your sacrifices. I swear on my life to care for your remaining families."
His voice trembled faintly.
"So... rest for a bit. I will definitely come back for you."
A vow as Lord Governor.
And a promise as comrades.
"Get up. Adnen."
Mikhail helped Adnen to his feet.
"We have to go."
The problem was their poor condition.
Both the Lord Governor and Adnen.
"Cough...!"
Mikhail spat up black blood.
The aftermath of mana awakening, burning part of his life force.
He looked like he could collapse any moment.
"Lord Governor..."
Adnen was the same.
His left shoulder and leg were wrecked.
Even walking properly seemed difficult.
"Just... leave me and go."
"Don't talk nonsense."
"The Lord Governor must... survive..."
Watching them.
'They can't move in this state.'
Damian fell into thought.
Escape the great jungle with these two?
Forget escape—even a few steps would be impossible.
They needed emergency treatment.
'I have to do something.'
Damian surveyed the fortress.
His gaze fixed on one barracks.
'Alchemy lab.'
A space used by the barbarian alchemists.
There might be useful materials.
"Wait here a moment. I'll be right back."
Inside the barracks.
The familiar herbal scent hit him.
'Not bad stock.'
Ancient alchemy and first-aid knowledge etched in his mind guided his hands and senses.
He selected, mixed, and processed ingredients for potions and remedies as quickly as possible.
The process flowed naturally and swiftly.
'This should do...'
Splints for emergency immobilization.
Hemostatics and various recovery potions.
Hastily made, so less effective, but far better than nothing.
"Take these."
Damian returned with the finished products and extra herbs.
He handed them to Mikhail and Adnen.
"...What's this?"
Mikhail asked with a puzzled expression.
"Did they make these?"
"No, I whipped them up in a hurry."
"With your own hands...?"
Mikhail's eyes widened.
He knew Damian had alchemy knowledge.
But not to this extent.
"What can't you do, you bastard?"
"Just take them. No time."
The effects were definite.
Color returned slightly to Mikhail's pale face.
"My body... feels a bit movable."
Adnen too.
At least he could swing his axe with one arm now.
"Then now..."
Right then.
'...!'
He felt it.
Faint vibrations from afar.
And the waves they created.
'Someone's coming.'
Organized movements.
Clear chain of command.
'That disciple.'
The disciple who was with Sorcerer King Kaldaram.
He'd clearly rallied troops after fleeing.
"Hurry. Enemies will swarm soon."
Mikhail nodded.
His eyes sharpened again.
'This way now.'
Where to escape.
Where and what was approaching.
He could sense it roughly.
"This way."
Damian led the group.
In the direction his senses pointed.
'Normally that way.'
The pre-prepared escape route.
Rope tied atop the walls.
But the earth's senses rejected it.
Numerous wild monsters there.
"Not the prepared route. We'll go out the back gate."
Mikhail and Adnen followed without a word.
Damian was all they could trust now.
"Hold on."
Outside the fortress.
Damian pulled something from his bosom.
The remaining of the two maps he'd made.
"Current position here."
Damian pointed to a corner of the map.
"To the Spine of Sighs, shortest path is this way."
The quickest route.
But the most dangerous.
"But now we'll detour the opposite way."
Many wild monsters.
Pursuers might catch up.
He'd have to shake them with his new senses.
"Damian."
"Yes, Lord Governor."
"From now on, I entrust all decisions of the suicide squad to you. No need for explanations or opinions."
On the line between life and death?
The wounded would just shut up and follow.
"...Understood. Let's move."
They moved like that for days.
Map, memory, rooted senses.
All mobilized for escape.
"Grrr..."
Of course, the path wasn't smooth.
The great jungle was still full of monsters.
Slash!
Whenever that happened, Damian took the lead and handled it.
Thrust!
Unstoppable movements.
Clean finishes.
"..."
Mikhail and Adnen watched in silent shock.
'This guy... he's gotten even stronger since that day.'
Mikhail's eyes narrowed.
Movements clearly different from days ago.
Faster, stronger, more efficient.
'Even brushing death...'
Those who live by the sword have such days.
Moments pushed to death's edge.
Overcoming them brings realizations.
But even so.
'Unrealistic talent, no matter how many times I see it.'
Growth speed beyond common sense.
Beyond genius, into monster territory.
Which only made him more covetous.
"What the hell is that kid?"
Adnen, somewhat recovered after days of detours.
He'd just handled two orcs with his one good arm.
His voice held awe.
"...At this point, even I don't know."
Mikhail could manage one or two orcs now too.
Though he fought gritting his teeth—the mana awakening's aftermath lingered.
"Only sure of one thing: we survived thanks to him."
Slaying endlessly reviving spirits.
Making on-site first aid and recovery meds for steady healing.
Guiding with his handmade map and innate senses.
All carried by Damian Winter alone.
Without him, Mikhail and Adnen would have died long ago.
'If we return to the territory alive...'
How to repay this debt.
Hard to gauge.
"...!"
Moving again, Damian stopped.
His gaze turned to the dark forest ahead.
"What's wrong?"
"Seems we've hit our limit."
"...What?"
Mikhail questioned Damian's response.
Limit? What did that mean suddenly?
"They'll swarm soon."
Damian readjusted Dawn and his Elven buckler.
Right then.
Dudududu!
Earth-shaking cavalry rumble.
Red glints in the darkness.
"Groooar!"
A massive silhouette charging from afar.
Not orc wolf riders.
Cavalry on even larger, fiercer beasts.
'Troll cavalry.'
Heavily armored trolls charging at terrifying speed.
Riding tamed bipedal beasts, raptors.
"...Hah."
Damian let out a short sigh.
Could he win against them now?
'If those two were fine, easy.'
But now? Uncertain.
No, honestly tough.
He was worn out too.
'But.'
Give up here?
Impossible.
He hadn't clawed to survival to die here.
Hadn't thrown himself into peril to stop here.
'No way? Make one.'
Damian's senses.
And gluttony's results whispered.
One way to overcome this crisis.
'Gotta bet on that.'
Always had.
From ending that first dying knight.
Followed gluttony's whispers every step here.
'No different now.'
Damian Winter hardened his resolve.
He stepped forward steadily.
"I'll handle it somehow."
"We'll fight together. Might be our last."
"No, you two fall back. You'll just get in the way like that."
Cold judgment.
Firm resolve.
"And."
Damian turned.
His eyes gleamed strangely.
"If I look done for."
Voice without hesitation.
"Just leave me and run."
"What? What nonsense..."
"You must."
Conversation ended there.
Pop!
Damian kicked off the ground, charging.
Toward the oncoming troll cavalry.
"Groooar!"
The lead troll hurled a massive spear.
Overwhelming throw that would pierce anything.
But.
Clang!
Damian deflected it with his buckler on his left arm.
"Hup...!"
Simultaneously, enhanced mana sensitivity surged.
Compressed all power with breath.
'Now!'
Moment of buckler clash with troll cavalry.
Didn't miss that instant's timing and repulsion.
'Shockwave.'
Technique devoured from the Earth Spirit.
Unleashed forward.
[Shockwave]
[Massive forward blast / Disrupts formations / Cooldown active]
Kwaaaang!
The aftermath was tremendous.
The vanguard charging at the front flew into the air with their raptors.
Crash!
Those following tangled and fell.
Charge formation shattered in an instant.
'Still far from over.'
Still a disadvantageous fight.
Damian drew his Elven Sword.
'Stake everything on this power.'
Ability stolen from the troll berserker.
Power fighting on pure destructive instinct.
'Berserk.'
Never tested it.
Yet activated without hesitation.
Conditions known instinctively.
"Haaa..."
Suppressed wildness.
Held reason.
Let go—that was it.
Snap-crackle!
Muscles swelled unnaturally across his body.
Blood surged, eyes turned blood-red.
Twisted face, throbbing veins.
"..."
Moments later.
The last shred of reason vanished.
Deep inner instinct surged instead.
"...Kill."
Fully consumed by berserk, Damian.
Muttered in a gravelly voice.
"Every last one."
All Stats +200%
Pain Resistance: MAX
HP Drain: -50/sec
The purpose recalled just before losing reason.
Kill the charging troll cavalry.
No—wipe out every attacking enemy.
That purpose became instinct.
The final remaining instinct.