Chapter 33: The Goals of the Scarred Beast

The aged human-faced part of the Manticore, unable to withstand the forceful blow, is torn off and dances through the air. The scarred beast, now without its head, stumbles back a few steps, and its massive body collapses.

“Alright, it’s over.”

After brushing off the blood from the war mace, I take a small breath. In that moment of relief, I hear a shout, “Jurg!” accompanied by Rolo pushing me away.

“What…!?”

In that surprised moment, Rolo is impaled by the scorpion tail and sent flying.

──Just moments ago, I was standing there, in his place.

“Uwaa…!”

“Rolo!”

I rush to the fallen Rolo in the forest, picking him up. The sharp tip of the scorpion tail pierced through Rolo’s abdomen, even through the sturdy mithril chainmail.

“Enough. To let your guard down at that moment, Jurg, that’s not like you.”

“Don’t talk. Hey, Fimia!”

“I understand!”

Fimia, jumping down from Greg, begins casting healing sacred magic on Rolo. However, the slightly purple-tinted wound on Rolo’s body doesn’t show any signs of closing.

“Poison…! No, I can heal this. Please hang on a bit longer, Rolo-san.”

“Jurg, just focus on the front. You can do it.”

While spitting out blood, Rolo points his finger towards me, casting strengthening magic. Nodding to him, I tightly grip the war mace and turn back to face the scarred beast.

While being exposed to Saran’s aggressive magic, the scarred beast was about to get up, headless.

I should have felt a positive response, but why…!

“It’s troubling, isn’t it? When faced with that kind of violence.”

The rolling face smirked maliciously.

Feeling a pinch of fear from the abnormal appearance, but there’s no time to falter here.

“A monster…!”

“Be careful. This is a situation I’m not quite familiar with either.”

If Saran doesn’t know, it means it’s an unprecedented phenomenon in the kingdom.

In that case, both countermeasures and solutions are trial and error.

This is quite troublesome.

“Saran, as usual, focus on ‘observation and analysis.'”

“You unexpectedly stay calm; that’s helpful.”

“Don’t say foolish things; I’m about to lose it soon.”

The moment I say that, my anger surpasses reason. Using all my strength to kick the ground, I leap back at the scarred beast.

“It’s no use. I’m immortal.”

“You’re surprisingly confident. Well, I’ll check if that’s true.”

Without noticing, I return to my original position and swing the war mace downwards at the head that has somehow reattached itself. Although it’s blocked by the magic barrier, Saran cancels it out with his magic assist. Judging by this scene, Saran’s ‘observation and analysis’ have already yielded results.

“Well, you’re quite clever.”

The scarred beast looking frustrated, gives an evil smile.

The irritated scarred beast shot magic heat rays from its eyes towards Saran… but Greg, who rushed in at a tremendous speed, lifted Saran with his head and carried him away, avoiding the attack.

That Thomson guy, did he teach Greg some tricks?

Thanks to that, he was saved.

“Don’t get distracted… hey!”

A horizontal swing, a spinning strike, a downward strike, and an upward strike—a four-strike combo was delivered to the scarred beast.

Each strike from this ridiculously heavy large war mace had the power of a one-hit kill.

Even if it’s immortal, it won’t come out unscathed after being continuously hammered like this.

“Gu, ah…!”

The scarred beast stepped back a few steps, having received severe wounds, but it didn’t die.

I see… it seems that being immortal is not necessarily a lie.

“It’s useless. You can’t kill me. I’m going to become ‘culled’ soon. By eating many humans, I will become the ‘apocalyptic beast’ that consumes everything.”

“The low-life creature that couldn’t be taken down alone has become significant!”

“Don’t underestimate me, you’re just human!”

The scarred beast let out a roar that sounded like a scream.

In an instant, my legs felt like they were frozen, and I lost control of my freedom.

I messed up; I didn’t expect it to use “Dragon Roar.”

The lifted front leg, accompanied by a gust of wind, approached me.

The moment it touched my body, over a dozen protection spells were cast around me.

“Jurg! Are you okay?”

“Fimia! How about Rolo?”

“He’s already fine!”

As Fimia answers, a thick arrow is shot into the forehead of the scarred beast. Glancing back, I see the ‘Assassin Stinger Joe’ that I threw away being tremblingly held by Rolo.

“This… is too heavy.”

“Don’t force yourself! Your wound will open!”

“I’m fine!”

Rolo snaps his fingers, and the arrow lodged in the scarred beast’s forehead explodes with a bluish-white light.

“Gyaa!”

It was a magic that transforms magic stones into small exploding bombs, I think. Such a trick is possible!

Rolo’s nickname Mysterious Illusionist is indeed fitting.

“You… you humans. I’ll devour you all!”

While regenerating, the scarred beast further enlarges its body. It’s now the size of a small dragon.

“Saran! Is it ready yet!?”

I call out to Saran, who is racing around the surroundings still riding Greg.

In response to my voice, the strategist shakes his head slightly.

“I apologize, but it seems we’ve reached an impasse. It’s impossible for us to defeat the scarred beast now if it plays a part in the ‘Culling.'”

“Well, look at that, we’ve got a smart one. You understand it well. I’ll save you for the last meal.”

The scarred beast chuckles chuckles with a hoarse voice, an irritating expression on its face. Should I keep punching it until it regrets being immortal?

“What can we do to defeat it?”

“We need a Sacred Relic.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a hassle.”

A Sacred Relic refers to the weapon held by the ‘Hero’ chosen to counter the world crisis, i.e., the ‘Culling.’ I’m not well-versed in this, but the Church manages these essential weapons to confront beings beyond human understanding. In other words, we don’t have one here.

“No choice if we don’t have it. I’ll just beat it to death for a trial.”

“Jurg is still as reckless as ever.”

Beside me, who is lifting the war mace, Rolo, with a short sword drawn, stands ready. I used to think he was a skinny kid, but he’s surprisingly reliable.

“With you and me, anything is possible.”

“Of course. I can adapt to Jurg.”

Behind us, a small sigh can be heard.

“Really, why do I have such poor judgment when it comes to people? My pawns move on their own again.”

“Well, you and Fimia step back. Leave the rest to us.”

“I’d like to do that, but, I’m caught up in this as well.”

Saran, who got off Greg, readies his staff. I’m a bit surprised by his attitude, different from his usual cold-blooded self.

“Hey, what kind of wind is blowing around?”

“I wonder? But my intuition tells me that I shouldn’t just stand by and watch you here.”

“Your intuition? Did you become a bit foolish from overeating on monster cuisine?”

“…Maybe it’s because I’ve been with you.”

Saran squints his eyes, lifting the corners of her mouth slightly.

“Greg, take Fimia to a safe place. Fimia, don’t forget the request of the Holy Knight and the Sacred Relic.”

“No, I am here as well.”

I expected her to say that, but I didn’t want to hear those words. This way, there’s no point in restraining them.

“Honestly, humans are foolish.”

The scarred beast sneers at us. Fimia shakes her head in response.

“The foolish one is you, scarred beast.  You underestimate us too much.”

Fimia states it clearly, and I feel her touch on my back.

“Do you remember, Jurg, the magic I cast that day?”

“…Magic that gives courage?”

“Can you still feel it? The light residing in your heart.”

Upon being asked, I recall the ‘Heart Flame’ flickering within me. As Fimia said, it still quietly but strongly exists within me.

“Not everyone harbors it. Because you were deemed worthy, I forgave you that day, and it dwelled in you.”

As Fimia speaks those words, her warm magic is poured into me, pushing me forward.

“No need for a Sacred Relic. The chosen hero by the ‘Saint’ Fimia Lakers, Jurg the Heaven Breaking Striker will crush you, the ‘Culling.'”

Upon declaring this, Fimia’s words make the scarred beast lose its composure.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter