The Ancestors’ Tombs (5)
“Damn it.”
Dallon spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. The crimson liquid floated upward, defying gravity.
In zero gravity, liquids tend to form spheres, right? It reminded him of an old YouTube video he’d seen of experiments on a space station.
But this wasn’t just zero gravity. It was a chaotic swirl of forces pulling everything upward.
The blood, which seemed to float, was quickly caught in a current and scattered away.
”…”
Watching the dispersal for a moment, Dallon turned his gaze back to the chieftain’s corpse.
More precisely, to the strange, silvery-blue aura emanating from the gaping hole in the chieftain’s chest.
“Your kind never seems to know when to die.”
[Laugh… Drawing a clear line between life and death is a simplistic worldview of mortals.]
The silvery-blue aura spoke. It had no tongue or mouth, yet the voice was clear.
How was it speaking? Was it vibrating? The aura flowed like mercury, then flared like burning oil, its composition impossible to discern.
Not that Dallon cared about its composition. What mattered was that it was part of the demon that had possessed the chieftain.
And judging by its behavior, it seemed intent on transforming into something more formidable if left unchecked.
He’d dealt with demons before; this was predictable.
‘So, double the boss experience, huh.’
Dallon glanced at his status screen. His level had surpassed 30.
Since leaving the labyrinth city, he’d leveled up by slaughtering orcs in the mountains and then again after defeating the sanctuary guardian and the chieftain.
Leveling was getting annoyingly slow, but taking down a demon might earn him another level.
That was why he was letting the silvery-blue substance linger, even though he could incinerate it or electrocute it at any moment.
‘At least a manifestation. And likely a dozen monsters as a bonus. If it really wants to fight, the main body might even show up.’
That would be even better. As a high-ranking demon, it would have left its essence in hell, but if he could weaken it by even 30%, it would be a huge help later.
While he pondered, the silvery-blue aura began to drift away from Dallon, slowly taking on a distinct shape.
[Heh, you were careless, warrior. Did you really think I’d give up so easily?]
The demon spoke. It was no longer an amorphous aura but had taken on the form of a gaunt, skeletal figure.
Dallon scratched his chin.
“Careless? I was just waiting.”
[…How amusing. There are limits to arrogance.]
“Enough talk. Come at me. I don’t have all day.”
With a flick of his fingers, an axe flew into his hand from somewhere. Dallon tucked it into his belt and tapped it with his fingers.
As if daring the demon to show its hand if it had any tricks left.
With the sanctuary destroyed, the barriers, guardians, and golems were all neutralized. He had no reason to rush.
Perhaps it was his nonchalance that irked the demon. The pale figure bit its lip and spoke.
[I’ll make you regret this. I’ll show you the limits of a mortal. As you rot among thousands of corpses, you’ll realize you’re no different from any other mortal.]
It raised its hand.
A blue flame flickered to life in its palm.
Dallon turned his gaze from the demon to the basin below. It was where the chieftains and his companions had fought the sanctuary guardian.
[Do you know why I coveted this place?]
As the demon posed its question, the corpses on the battlefield began to ignite.
The pale flames first consumed the dark bodies of the guardians, then spread to the freshly fallen chieftains and warriors.
Among the burning bodies, Dallon spotted Chieftain Tarum, Lucia, Bjorn, and Akasha. Tarum was missing an arm, but all four were alive.
No need to worry, then. Dallon nodded and reached for his belt.
[High orcs are primitive. Despite having the power to easily topple human kingdoms, they hide away in these remote mountain valleys, serving as humanity’s bulwark…]
The demon couldn’t finish its sentence. An axe had split its head in two.
The skeletal body slumped, its head cleaved in half.
Immediately, the sky cracked open, releasing a foul stench.
Whoosh―!
Flames without heat surged. The fire that started on the guardians’ bodies quickly spread beyond the basin to the valley.
In the barren valley where not a single tree grew, the blue flames spread like wildfire.
It was a demonic ritual, burning the bodies of high orcs that had died over millennia.
‘So that’s what it was after.’
Dallon was genuinely impressed.
Normally, the bodies of high orcs would be protected by the sanctuary’s magic, but with the sanctuary destroyed, they were exposed to the demon’s power.
Using the chieftain’s body and the sanctuary’s abilities, the demon had anticipated even the possibility of its plans being overturned.
This was no mere scheme; it was a strategy worthy of an Enaxagus demon.
[Be careful, warrior. It seems the demon intends to descend in its true form.]
“Looks like I really pissed it off.”
[You should have held your tongue.]
With a shrug at the dragon’s chiding, Dallon tilted his head back to look at the cracked sky.
The fissure, over a hundred meters long, was now spewing grotesque masses along with the stench.
Eyes, tongues, severed noses, and dismembered limbs clumped together.
Amidst the hail of repulsive masses, a form hundreds of times larger than the rest began to emerge.
Groooooan―
Awooo―
The wails of the dead echoed between the cliffs.
Could this be what a giant made of dozens of corpse giants from hell would look like?
Its skin was flayed, its body charred and dried, limbs twisted or bloated from drowning.
The giant, seemingly molded from thousands of corpses like clay, swung its four arms and legs as it fell from the fissure.
Rumble…
The demon, swaying in the updraft, quickly regained its balance. The mouths scattered across its body opened simultaneously.
[It’s been a long time since I’ve descended in my true form on this land. I hope your corpse will be worth the trouble.]
The Duke of the Corpse Swamp, the Deceiver of Pale Flames, Ztanc, spoke.
Dallon grinned fiercely, gripping his holy sword. Facing a high-ranking demon’s true form was a first since Kalkas.
The demon had sacrificed countless offerings and used high-level spells to fully draw on its essence and descend.
Which meant that if he killed it here, its hell would also perish, having lost its power source.
Step.
Footsteps sounded behind him. There were no other signs of life. No heartbeat, no breath.
Turning slightly, Dallon saw the chieftain, a gaping hole in his chest, standing in midair. Dallon raised an eyebrow.
“Weren’t you dead?”
“This body is dead. But a warrior’s spirit doesn’t die easily.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Before my heart was lost, the power of the ancestors entered my body. That power keeps my spirit tethered to this dead flesh.”
So he was holding on with the power of the domain.
Among the high orc ancestors, there must have been those who created the sanctuary guardian, so it wasn’t entirely impossible.
The chieftain’s eyes burned purple, and purple veins of magic stood out against his green skin, evidence of that power.
The chieftain moved his bloodless lips.
“Thank you for saving me from the demon’s trickery, human. Now give me a second chance. I’ll cut that demon down.”
Dallon paused. Help was welcome, but he was reluctant to give up the experience points.
“The final blow is mine.”
”…Don’t make it complicated. Friends don’t speak in riddles.”
“I mean, I’ll be the one to land the last hit.”
“Understood. I’ll weaken it, and you finish it off.”
Dallon nodded and stepped back. As long as he could claim the final blow for the experience, it was fine.
The chieftain strode through the air toward the demon.
With Dallon’s eyes that pierced through mysteries, he saw the shadows of over a hundred high orcs behind the chieftain.
[Oh.]
The demon watched with interest.
Or rather, the thousands of eyes on its body turned toward the chieftain.
[So that’s why you weren’t offered as a sacrifice. Your soul hasn’t left your body yet.]
“Demon.”
[What is it?]
“Prepare to die.”
Countless lips curled into a smirk. It was a clear mockery.
“Do you really think you can defeat me in that state? Your heart and lungs are crushed beyond recognition, and nearly half your organs are gone. You’re nothing more than a puppet moved by sorcery…”
“High orcs fight freely!”
The chieftain’s figure vanished, and the demon’s mouth snapped shut.
Boom!
The sound of drums echoed first.
In the next moment, the demon staggered as one of its four arms exploded.
Blood and flesh scattered in all directions.
The chieftain, now drenched in dark crimson, gripped the demon’s opposite shoulder.
“What is this? A mere corpse barely moving!”
There was no response. The chieftain simply focused all his strength on striking the joint between the demon’s torso and arm.
Whoosh!
Flames of five colors, born from the ancestors, enveloped his fist, building explosive power.
A whirlwind of shamanic winds swirled around him, clearing the path ahead and propelling him from behind.
In an instant, the chieftain’s body swelled to three times its size. Dozens of purple shadows covering him flashed, unleashing their power.
Boom!
Another drumbeat sounded, and with it, a part of the demon’s torso vanished along with its arm.
“Graaaah!”
The demon screamed, wildly flailing its remaining limbs.
As its severed arms rapidly regenerated, the remaining limbs split into hundreds of tendrils, transforming into whip-like appendages.
The demon’s body now resembled a sphere covered in countless tentacles, each made of dozens of corpses, revealing sharp bone fragments.
The immense strength from its massive form could easily topple a cliff, but the chieftain evaded every attack with blinding speed.
“Incredible. I’ve never faced anything this strong, even in the game.”
Simple movements intertwined with dozens of techniques, creating a force capable of crushing even the demon’s true form.
Even for a chieftain, such feats were impossible with a normal body.
But now, his body was merely a vessel, a tool, devoid of the concept of life.
His breath, already severed, was forcibly sustained, allowing him to wield the power of the domain without concern for his own loss.
The chieftain’s combat style, embodying countless powers, was an endless source of inspiration for Dalen, who also wielded numerous forces within his domain.
“I’d love to watch longer, but…”
The final flame, born from burning his own existence, wouldn’t last long.
With that thought, Dalen set aside his holy sword and took up a spear. His companion questioned him.
“Can you handle this alone?”
Dalen chuckled.
“Not like you’re going to help.”
“You’re quick-witted. If I were to borrow your body now, the control of the dragon heart you painstakingly transplanted would shift to me.”
“Does that mean the dragon heart becomes your body?”
“Exactly. Then I’d have to join every battle you fight. I made this deal for some peace, so I’d rather avoid such trouble.”
With a low chuckle from the ancient dragon, Dalen launched himself into the air.
Boom!
Crimson flames erupted beneath his feet. His soaring figure left a trail of fiery afterimages.
His heart pounded fiercely, but unlike before, his veins easily withstood the heat of the dragon’s blood.
Recalling the sensation when his companion borrowed his body during the battle with Kalkas, he realized he was still far from mastering the dragon’s martial prowess, but it no longer felt insurmountable.
Whoosh!
Flames enveloped his spear.
With a swift motion, he slashed at the demon’s body.
Distracted by the chieftain, the demon noticed too late as the searing heat cleaved through its form.
“Ugh…!”
The demon’s lips, poised to scream from the engulfing flames, melted away.
The wave of fire, akin to a dragon’s breath, consumed the demon’s entire body and cascaded onto the ground like a waterfall.
Boom!
In an instant, the rocky terrain melted, transforming the area into a volcanic landscape.
A massive, bisected corpse plummeted into the bubbling lake of lava.