novelraw Chapter 50 : City of Fanatics (11)
Chapter 50 : City of Fanatics (11)
Chapter 50: City of Fanatics (11)
"Remarkable…."
The figure that appeared, dragging himself across the blood-soaked ground, was staggering.
His whole body was covered in burns, as if fire had eaten through his flesh, leaving him in a grotesque state. Even breathing looked difficult.
The voice that spilled from his mouth was the sound of a man whose life was about to extinguish at any moment. He spoke.
"For the sacrifice to possess such power… it isn't what I heard."
"Hah?"
"You bear a stigma as well… no, your very existence is a stigma. So that was it."
When Nike frowned with a look that asked what nonsense this was, the man forced himself a few steps closer and lowered his head.
"Ah, forgive me. I'm not in my right mind from the pain. Understand if I mutter to myself. But I don't feel bad. I feel as if my filth has been purified…"
Nike stared at the burned madman with indifference while he rambled on in a state of no-self.
"Honestly, it was a horrific experience. To watch flames burn and melt my flesh in real time…"
"Hearing hallucinations in my ears, reliving the days I regret, feeling even my brain boil away… it's agony that makes you wish someone would kill you. I wanted to believe it was all a dream."
He staggered.
"As I am now… merely standing is all I can do."
"Yes… all the great beings of the world. They all endured such pain."
The burned man fixed his eyelidless, white, bulging eyes on Nike.
"At the hands of you hunters."
"I'm not one of them!"
"Ah… I suppose you aren't."
The man coughed blood. The touch of that blood against his peeled flesh seemed unbearable, his raw red muscles shrinking and loosening in grotesque rhythm.
"Do you see it? An ordinary human… just touching the flames, this is what becomes of them. Weak and broken, they die."
"How pathetic, how feeble a species they are."
"Vermin. Dust. Ants. Insects. Humans are no different from those… yet they comfort themselves, insisting they aren't the same. How foolish…"
The man trembled violently and clenched his fist.
"Humanity needs evolution…"
"Weak humans have no place in the new world the Ascendant will create. They must disappear now…"
"We… must serve the great one, and bear the stigmata of the star."
"On the day the Ascendant descends, we must become chosen humans…"
"Weak as I am! I lived day by day as a devotee, serving the witch and the star for that day. I carved into my flesh, stitch by stitch, the reward of the faith I offered."
"With this power, I have a mission to fulfill…"
Annoyed, Nike dug a finger into his ear, unwilling to hear more.
"A mission? What's that! I don't care!"
"My mission is…"
In that instant.
New flesh quickly sprouted across the man’s body. Just as Nike’s wounds recovered, his skin grew back, melted flesh restored to its original form.
On that new flesh, ominous glowing inscriptions appeared.
As even his face returned to its original state, Nike recognized him.
"Huh? Simas!?"
The now-healthy Count Simas drew his sword and spoke.
"My mission is to retrieve the sacrifice."
―!
The Count’s blade surged forward.
* * *
Whoosh— Boom!
The destructive power released by the Count’s curved blade was beyond imagination.
Nike realized it the moment he caught the strike with his bare hands.
The Count’s strength had surpassed the limits of humanity.
This was power gained by engraving into his flesh the mana that ordinary men could never bear, marking his body like tattoos to transcend humanity.
'This lunatic is out of his mind!'
Even Nike, who didn't know much about magic, understood at once. If he kept this up, his body and mind wouldn't survive.
Mana was a force given by the evil god, a power ordinary humans couldn't wield.
Only with a "mana heart" and "circuits" could it be used safely, for it was a transcendent and dangerous force.
To forcibly carve it into the skin meant inevitable disastrous side effects.
Yet, craving even the faintest blessing of the star, fanatics gladly engraved their skin with that wicked power.
Boom! Boom!
Every swing of his curved blade detonated shockwaves.
Nike reinforced his body to block them, but the force was overwhelming, far greater than expected.
"Haaap!"
On top of that, the Count’s swordsmanship was first-rate. Even compared to Vigo, his skill was refined and flawless.
His eyes burned with confidence, the gaze of a man assured of his abilities.
Whoosh! Slash!
Nike leapt back, narrowly dodging a slash aimed at his waist. The Count wouldn't allow distance to open.
Chasing swiftly, his eyes blazed as he thrust his blade at Nike, who hadn't even touched the ground yet. The angle left no way to evade.
'This is the end!'
Just as the Count believed victory was his,
Crunch!
Nike twisted his bones and body midair, contorting at an impossible angle. The Count’s eyes widened in shock.
The blade aimed at Nike’s abdomen missed by a hair. Instead, with his sword withdrawn and unguarded, the Count took Nike’s fist square in the face.
Crash!
His body slammed into the ground, his eye socket collapsing without resistance.
Nike landed lightly, standing beside the Count. He groaned faintly.
"Even just becoming a vessel grants such power. How pitiful."
Bleeding, he struggled upright.
"I pursued the ultimate essence of martial truth and rose to the Ninth Throne, but as a human, I was still so frail. I never reached it."
He chuckled, rubbing at his shattered face.
"Again, I am astonished. And filled with reverence… I mean that sincerely."
The bones around his fractured eye knit back together, crushed flesh regenerating.
Each time he drew on the engraved mana, parts of his tattoo burned, his skin rotting anew. With every recovery, another part of him was left imperfect.
"Sacrifice. I envy you."
"Haaah~?"
Nike dug at his ear again, sick of his drivel. The Count painfully retrieved his sword once more.
"Which is why, before you run amok any further, today!"
The mana inscriptions flared crimson.
The Count’s form changed grotesquely.
Crack! Snap!
Bones burst through his skin, forming armor that encased him. Four additional arms sprouted from his back.
"I will recover and seal the sacrifice."
"Cults make me sick now."
Six arms.
One sword and five bone blades.
The Count declared in a strained voice.
"…As the Order wills."
* * *
Haah, his breath was ragged.
His heart raced.
The battle had been brutal and perilous. Vigo and Rowen, their faces flushed from potions, barely stood on wounded legs.
"Rowen, are you alright?"
"…This much is nothing."
"You even know how to bluff now. Hehe."
Vigo let out a short laugh at his disciple’s bravado. Their poor hunting gear had made the fight far more exhausting.
Even so, against humans, there remained a clear disparity, and the victors were naturally Vigo and Rowen.
Rowen panted, clutching at her bleeding thigh. Outnumbered, she had inevitably been wounded.
"Is it over?"
The dry voice drifted like a sigh.
Magis, who had silently observed the fight, remained expressionless.
"Of course not."
Magis raised her hand.
"To kill the great hunter Vigo and recover the sacrifice, you think I would prepare only this much?"
"..."
"The main dish only begins now."
Thump.
Thought stopped.
No, the body froze first, then thought ceased.
They didn't even realize.
By the time they thought, 'What is happening?' both Vigo and Rowen were on their knees, blood flowing from their nose and mouth.
Vigo barely lifted his head to check on Rowen.
It was as if something indescribable pressed them down. Breathing and staying conscious were miracles under such crushing pressure.
Rowen clawed at her head and screamed.
"Ugh… l-let me go. I-I only wanted to play with my little brother. Please, I beg youuuuu!!!"
"Rowen. Wake up…!"
If left like this, Rowen’s mind would collapse.
Amid the chaos, Vigo summoned his strength.
Boom!
From his core, burst a wave of air that blasted the unseen pressure away.
"Gasp!"
Rowen barely regained her sanity.
A skull-splitting headache followed.
"Huff, huff— what was that…?"
Supporting Rowen, Vigo glared at Magis.
"That crazy woman is using sorcery."
"Kgh… Master. Could she truly be Sin itself…?"
"I don't know… But when I was a green fledgling, I felt this presence once. And I feel it from her now."
Vigo’s eyes narrowed. Nike’s words came back to him.
'So that brat sensed this presence from that far away…'
If her true identity was Sin, then Nike’s wariness made sense.
And worry grew as well.
'I sense nothing from Nike’s side.'
Everything was sealed off.
Magis had erected a barrier.
This was a problem, but what happened to Nike was far graver.
Even if Vigo and Rowen both died here, Nike had to survive and return.
They couldn't know what was happening outside this barrier.
'It may already be too late.'
If not, then they had to reach Nike as fast as possible. This was no time to hesitate.
"The main dish I prepared for you is—"
"Shut your mouth."
"…My, how cold."
Vigo rose again, pushing Rowen back.
The air around him began to ripple.
"Rowen."
"Yes."
"We kill that lunatic here. I will handle the aftermath. No matter what, I will carve her down and open the path. You take Nike and return to Vilnogo."
Vigo’s tone grew solemn.
"What? No! You can't—!"
"There is no choice. The opponent is Sin. Even if I sacrifice my life, I may not leave a scratch."
As he said, the cavern of blood-red magic circles shifted again at Magis’s gesture.
From the blood rose writhing lumps that formed into monsters far stronger than the one Nike had fought earlier.
Dozens of them.
In their weakened state, fighting was impossible.
And since she called it the main dish, it meant Magis herself was about to act.
Even Vigo could barely hold onto his sanity under the mental pressure she exerted. Rowen had no way to act here.
"Master. Please."
Rowen tried to dissuade him but knew it was useless. The situation was dire.
Above all, Nike’s survival was priority number one.
"It will be alright."
"Damn it!!!"
Rowen cursed. Vigo smiled bitterly and reached into the air. A shadow spat out a small glass vial.
Inside was pitch-black liquid. Vigo drank it.
"Hgh."
He exhaled in pain.
His veins bulged across his body.
Groaning, he tilted his head back.
The potion he had drunk was closer to poison.
It forced every nerve to explode with activity, boosting physical ability while erasing pain by paralyzing all senses.
It was nearly twenty times stronger than the potions ordinary hunters used.
The side effects were severe.
Cough—!
Vigo spat a torrent of blood.
He felt his life ebbing away, and with a savage grin, curled his lips.
"Kgeheheh, damned Morgana… that whore’s wish draws near."
Rumble!
All the monsters finished summoning.
Even now, Magis crushed them beneath her mental weight. The only reason they endured was because Vigo’s force pushed back.
If he faltered for a moment, the pressure would kill them. The being Nike feared so much was beyond imagination.
"Rowen… are you ready."
"…Yes, Master."
Rowen wiped her tears and steeled herself.
"I am ready."
"Good. I am relieved."
Vigo smiled bitterly.
He had devoted his entire life to exterminating witches. Now, standing at the pinnacle a human could reach, he spoke.
"Today, here, I will kill Sin."