Silent Night (2)
Screeeeech—!
The corpse monster let out a piercing scream, its lower jaw shattered and hanging loosely, yet the sound remained unchanged.
It wasn’t screaming like a typical animal, from its throat.
Hissss—
Dozens of heads, eyes rolled back, emerged from between the tangled bodies and limbs that made up the creature.
Haaa—
Screeeech!
A head with white hair, another with dark skin and a sharp nose.
Aaaah!
Ugh, ugh!
A young man’s head with half-torn lips, another with eyes, nose, and ears crushed.
As if to prove that hell spares no one, faces of all races and genders screamed in unison.
The monster’s cacophony was a symphony of these diverse cries.
”…What a racket,” Dalen muttered, grimacing as he clung to the monster’s upper jaw.
With dozens of voices screaming right in his face, it felt like his eardrums might burst.
Keeping his face scrunched, he swung his sword upward.
Crack—!
The blade sliced through, entrails and flesh clinging to its edge. Dozens of bones shattered with a single strike.
The top of a dangling head was severed and fell away.
Thud!
Dalen kicked the falling mass of flesh, using the momentum to leap onto the monster’s torso.
Screeeeech!!
Even with its head severed, the corpse monster continued to scream.
It wasn’t something that could be killed with ordinary swordplay.
The creature was a conglomeration of dozens of corpses, bound by hellish magic.
The most straightforward way to hunt it was to find and destroy the core of that magic.
Crack!
Dalen drove his sword into the monster’s back.
The blade pierced through the emaciated body of a man, severing a few tangled limbs in the process.
Balancing on the swaying monster’s back, Dalen gripped his sword tightly, expanding his senses.
Not the ordinary five senses or a superhuman sixth sense, but a mage’s magical sensitivity.
It was a sense that became apparent once his magic level surpassed ten, and was honed through spellcasting.
Sss—
He closed his eyes and focused, reading the ominous flow of magic swirling within the monster.
Magic that bound the corpses together, granting them a tortured existence beyond death.
With his high intelligence, he traced the flow backward, pinpointing the core from which the magic emanated.
‘There.’
Dalen opened his eyes. Grasping the deeply embedded sword with his right hand, he raised his empty left hand into the air.
Having once played with fire, casting a spell was no longer difficult.
He wove the magical currents in the air, projecting and solidifying the image of flames.
“Ignel Rot.”
Fwoosh!
With the incantation, he brought the flames into the material world.
Thud—
Clenching the fiery arrow in his fist, Dalen slammed it into the monster’s back.
Boom!
The sound of flesh tearing, like a drum being ripped apart.
The combination of Dalen’s extraordinary strength and his mastery of martial arts, exceeding seventy percent proficiency, punched a deep hole into the monster’s back.
At the end of that hole, a core of magic flickered with a dark crimson hue.
‘Bingo.’
Dalen released the fiery arrow he held, sending it straight toward the core.
Fwoosh!
The flames, fueled by magic, shot toward the monster’s core.
Usually protected by layers of bone, muscle, and flesh, the core was the monster’s greatest vulnerability, hidden deep within.
Crack—!
As the fiery arrow struck the core, a splitting sound echoed.
Screeeeech—!
All the corpses that made up the monster let out a final, dying scream as the massive body began to collapse.
Rumble—
A cascade of flesh, bones, limbs, and entrails poured down like a waterfall.
Fragments of twisted corpses rolled in every direction.
“Ugh…”
Among the silent company, a few turned pale.
Some of the more squeamish mages couldn’t hold back their nausea and vomited.
Meanwhile, atop the mound of fallen corpses, Dalen nonchalantly brushed off bits of entrails from his shoulder.
His gaze turned toward the entrance of the mine.
At the end of his line of sight, a shattered cart inside the tunnel rattled, and the silver-masked apostle slowly rose.
“Impressive warrior indeed, to take down a corpse golem alone.”
The silver-masked apostle, Rakti, spoke, dripping with sweat.
The warrior’s axe was embedded in his forearm.
He hadn’t dodged in time, but managed to block it with his arm at the last moment.
Ordinarily, his arm would have been severed, and the axe would have split his skull.
But thanks to his lizardman heritage, even as a half-breed, his skin boasted formidable defense, allowing him to survive.
Blocking a flying hand axe at invisible speed without losing an arm was testament enough.
Though he had been thrown into a cart and slammed against the mine wall, the regenerative power granted by the high apostle could easily heal such bruises.
Swoosh!
Rakti pulled the axe from his arm and hurled it with all his might at the warrior before him.
Whirr!
The hand axe flew, aiming to split the opponent’s head.
He was certain.
Even if the warrior dodged or blocked, this attack would create an opening in his stance.
‘And that opening will be the cornerstone of my assault…!’
Whirr— Thud!
Until the massive warrior casually reached out and caught the axe, that’s what he thought.
The warrior spoke.
“Thanks for returning it.”
Rakti stared dumbfounded at the axe in the warrior’s hand. He muttered.
”…I must admit, you’re not a warrior I can handle alone.”
Rakti unstrapped a large double-headed axe from his back.
The axe head was as large as a person’s torso, a battle axe that seemed too cumbersome to wield.
Yet he held it effortlessly, his vertically slit eyes gleaming as he spoke.
“But I don’t have to face you alone. The gates of hell have opened, and the creatures that crave your flesh are already on their way.”
As if on cue, the ground began to tremble.
Thud, thud, thud…
A low, distinct rumble emanated from deep within the mine.
Rakti bared his sharp teeth in a grin.
The warrior, gazing intently into the tunnel, likely possessed the vision to pierce the darkness.
If so, he would see it.
The sight of hundreds of monsters, shaking the tunnel as they charged forward.
Rakti spoke.
“But can you face not only me but also an army of hundreds of monsters and the high apostle empowered by demonic forces, all by yourself?”
“I’m not soloing this.”
”…What?”
Rakti was bewildered by the unfamiliar term. The warrior chuckled.
“I’m not here for a solo boss fight, you idiot.”
The warrior sheathed the hand axe at his belt and drew a shield, holding it in his left hand.
And with that seamless motion.
“Silent Company! Forward—”
“Artium—Merun!”
The mages and soldiers who had come with him began their charge toward the mine entrance.
“Form a line—spread out!”
At Gawain’s command, the Silent Company broke formation and rushed forward.
Quickly reestablishing a line formation at the tunnel entrance, the soldiers readied their shields and weapons, forming a defensive line.
Despite the unsettling sight of scattered corpses, their training ensured their movements were precise and swift.
Simultaneously,
Flash!
With a spell cast by Felber, a dozen orbs of light, each the size of a watermelon, illuminated the mine.
Emitting a blinding light, the orbs lit up the depths of the tunnel.
Under that light, the monsters charging from within the tunnel came into view.
Screeeeech—!
Screeeech!
Leading the charge were twisted human forms.
Grotesque creatures, as if humans had been bent, distorted, and grafted together.
Each had three, five, or nearly ten limbs, a hideous sight.
Some had two heads, while others had only half a head.
Thud—
And behind them, slowly crawling forward, were massive corpse golems similar to the one Dalen had defeated.
The charge of hundreds of grotesques and nearly a dozen corpse golems was a force that could crush even the Silent Company’s defensive line.
But that didn’t happen.
Behind the defensive line.
The mages of Elgaia Tower had just completed the seals for their second spell.
“Elle—Valadum!”
“Elle Rot!”
Crash―!
Stone arrows rained down like a storm, and massive stalactites emerged from the cavern’s ceiling. Their sharp, unyielding tips targeted the undead golems crawling forward with ghastly wails.
Crack! Crunch!
A guttural scream echoed as the golems were impaled by the jagged spears of earth, halting their advance.
“What the―!”
The silver-masked lizardman swung his axe, deflecting the stone arrows, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Dalen smirked at him. “I told you, I’m not soloing this.”
“What do you mean by tha―ugh!”
Thud!
A stone arrow, more like a spear, tore through the lizardman’s shoulder and thigh. Even a glancing blow was enough to rip through his tough hide, drawing blood mixed with viscous fluid.
Watching the lizardman bleed, Gawain gritted his teeth and spoke. “Dalen, let me handle this one.”
Ah, right. The Silent Captain had a personal vendetta against this lizardman. Dalen recalled one of the many minor details from the game and nodded. Experience points were tempting, but now wasn’t the time to be picky.
The battle wasn’t overwhelmingly against them, but with a demon summoned and the gates of hell open, the situation was dire. While summoning a demon was exceedingly difficult, bringing forth monsters wasn’t as challenging. Monsters were naturally drawn to demons, and as long as a demon was present in the material realm, more could cross over.
‘Depending on the stability of the hell gate, there’s a high chance that a similar number of monsters will be summoned periodically.’
There were only two ways to stop it. Either close the hell gate with magic or divine power, or…
‘Beat the summoned demon back through the gate.’
The first option was beyond their current capabilities, leaving only the second. To defeat the demon in time, Dalen couldn’t afford to waste any more time here. He needed to leave the monsters and apostles to his comrades and confront the arch-apostle and the demon himself.
Fortunately, the experienced Silent Captain and the elder mage understood the situation perfectly.
“Old man, I’m counting on you.”
“Don’t worry.”
Even while forming endless hand signs, Felber managed a reassuring smile. Dalen felt reassured that his past choices had been right.
Dalen stretched his legs. The Silent Company was already engaged with the leading monstrosities. With the mages’ relentless support, the monsters’ assault had significantly weakened. The Silent Company’s defense line wouldn’t falter against the few lucky enough to break through the magical barrage.
Clang! Clang! Boom!
“Do you remember the family you killed?”
“Your mother’s tender flesh was memorable! I didn’t expect the ragman’s son to become a ragman himself!”
Gawain and the lizardman exchanged blows, their fight fueled by deep-seated grudges and weaknesses that needed overcoming. This battle would only enhance Gawain’s abilities and heroic stature.
‘Now, I just need to do my part.’
With that thought, Dalen’s lips curled into a slight smile. He pushed off the ground with force.
Boom!
He shot forward like a cannonball, using the horizontally jutting stalactites as stepping stones to leap again.
Crash!
The scenery blurred past him. Whenever his speed waned, he’d spring off another stalactite. The backs of undead golems and the cavern walls served as perfect footholds.
With dozens of leaps, he soared over the monster army and hit the ground running.
Thud―
Dalen sprinted without hesitation. In countless playthroughs, he’d encountered cultists using this mine as their base several times. Predicting the arch-apostle’s location wasn’t difficult.
What mattered now was which demon the arch-apostle had summoned.
‘Given that they worship a dark god, they wouldn’t summon a demon from a completely different faction, even when cornered.’
His thoughts didn’t linger long. The cultists’ base wasn’t deep within the mine.
At the end of an abandoned tunnel, Dalen stopped before a pile of rocks. Normally, a specific incantation would reveal a hidden path as the rocks moved aside.
Rumble!
Dalen simply smashed through the rock pile with brute force and continued down the revealed path.
He ran for what felt like an eternity until the narrow passage, wide enough for two men, opened into a vast chamber.
Whoosh―
Wind swirled through the expansive cavern, tousling Dalen’s hair. In the center stood a massive altar dedicated to a dark god, as large as the sewer chamber he’d seen before. Around the altar lay nearly five hundred corpses, all flayed or disemboweled, their deaths the result of horrific torture. Their screams and curses had been used as sacrifices to open the hell gate.
Atop the altar, before an oval portal shimmering with a blood-red hue, stood the arch-apostle, his back adorned with dozens of tendrils. He turned to face Dalen.
“Welcome.”
The arch-apostle spoke.
“Warrior of legend, who seeks to avoid the many paths to ruin―ugh!”
Thwack!
Dalen’s axe embedded itself in the arch-apostle’s face. Dalen casually dusted off his hands. He’d thrown it with more force than usual, so much so that even he found it hard to track.
Watching the arch-apostle fall with an axe in his face, Dalen drew his sword with a nonchalant expression.
“I know you’re not dead from just that.”
He said.
“So stop playing dead and get up.”
“Heh, your instincts are sharp.”
The arch-apostle propped himself up with his tendrils, a grin splitting his face despite the axe wound.
And Dalen saw it.
Above the arch-apostle’s head, letters appeared in a cascade.
[You have discovered the corpse of the sixth silver-masked apostle.]
[You have discovered the corpse of the captured legendary warrior.]
It was a sight he’d never encountered before—two messages appearing side by side.