Adventurer Life with Exiled Daughter

Chapter 100

Chapter 100

*

Drim's body vanished from right in front of me.

Seeing Drim's body get half-shorn away and blown back, Maricia's face twisted in horror, and I barely managed to catch Drim in midair from behind, his torso and lower half just barely still connected.

It was so abrupt, with no warning at all.

It simply swung its arm as if brushing away a fly, turning most of Drim's upper body into mincemeat from the stomach up, and then, as if shedding its skin from beneath the crystal, it revealed a body covered in black gems, trembling as it roared.

Blackened, berserk, "Jackpot" if you want to be sarcastic—there are many names for it, but for adventurers, it all boils down to this.

"There's unlucky, and then there's this."

Was I really going to draw this for the first time in my life here—an odds even worse than that damn rabbit dropping the Priestess's Eye—after all those times I lost to the damn rabbit?

I curse my own luck for being so ironically effective.

No, I can hate myself later—right now it's about the beard, the bearded guy.

Catching the bearded guy in midair, I poured all my strength into casting healing magic.

Even as I cursed my own lack of skill with magic, I desperately wished it would be in time.

Don't give up, I told Drim in my heart, focusing on the healing magic.

Healing magic isn't all-powerful.

Even if your lower half gets blown off, if you have a skilled enough healer, you can be completely restored.

But only if the recipient doesn't give up.

If you accept death, that's the end—even if your body is fixed, you'll die.

Don't you dare give up, bearded guy.

We adventurers—our thing is that we're too stubborn to die, right?

You even quit being a carpenter because you admired us, didn't you?

Then don't you dare give up.

It wasn't a look of surprise, nor was it twisted in pain.

I spoke to Drim in my heart, seeing his face gazing off somewhere far away.

Focusing on the healing magic, I became aware that my physical enhancement was weakening.

But the trade-off was worth it.

Drim's body rapidly began to heal.

He's reconnected—at least, he won't die from his body's condition anymore.

I think I managed to produce the fastest, most powerful effect in my life.

"Keep calling his name until he wakes up!"

Shouting that, I twisted my falling body and hurled Drim toward Maricia.

Damn it.

Without waiting to see what happened after I threw him, I twisted my body again.

Maybe because I forced myself to do something I'm bad at—casting healing magic on someone else—the pressure of my magical energy won't come back.

Damn it.

A choice between two—I made up my mind.

The Jewelhead Dragon leapt up—or no, now that it's blackened, maybe I should call it Jewelhead Dragon Noir?—and its claw came crashing down at me.

It was pure luck that there was no one where the blow landed.

Well, I was too busy feeling my spine snap like a dead branch to think about anything else.

"I won the bet."

I forced out the words, trying not to lose myself to the pain.

Maybe twenty percent bluff, but the rest was genuine.

Realizing I wouldn't make it in time to boost my body's strength to the necessary level, I prioritized enhancing the strength of my equipment instead.

Even Oganight's fist couldn't break it, so I figured reinforcing my gear would reduce the damage more than boosting my flesh—I made up my mind.

I won the bet, damn it—it really hurts.

Using my still-working hands, I bounced off the ground as if punching it.

If all I got was a broken spine and a few minor fractures, that's better than I expected.

I was even prepared for my upper body to get flattened.

Don't think you can kill me with just this.

Before I landed, I reconnected my spine.

The pain of the rib stabbed into my gut I crushed with my molars—getting moving comes first, damn it, it hurts.

I could tell the surrounding adventurers were in chaos, but I ignored it.

Or rather, I simply didn't have the mental bandwidth.

Apparently, even blackened, its nature doesn't change.

The Jewelhead Dragon was glaring at me with hatred, as the one who'd hunted the most damn rabbits.

Its jaw, covered in slick, wet-looking, glossy black gems, came at me.

Fast—no, this magical energy, is it using magic!?

Did it get magical assistance in its movements, like Oganight and the king of monsters?

Dodging mostly by sheer determination, I finally managed to boost my body's strength.

Knowing it wouldn't do much, I still kicked the Jewelhead Dragon in the face, using the recoil to gain five strides of distance.

The sword I drew from its sheath flared with blue flames from the blade for an instant, but I ignored it—if it cuts, that's all that matters.

As I felt my broken rib return to where it belonged, I got a chill from the presence behind me.

An adventurer whose name I didn't know was frozen with a dumbfounded look on their face.

Meanwhile, I mentally spat every curse I could think of at the thick line of magical energy stabbing into me.

What am I doing? The calm part of me laughed.

Why aren't you dodging? I sneered at myself.

It's just some adventurer whose name I don't even know. Would there be any problem if I abandoned them? I laughed at myself.

Hey, come on, me—me.

That's not the kind of thing you say with a face like "I'm gonna do it," you know?

My logical (Erika) theory doesn't approve of that.

In the warped sense of time caused by physical enhancement.

I raised my sword overhead and grinned.

If I did it once, I can do it again.

I brought my sword down on the line of magical energy that radiated certain death.