The Sewer Mage (3)
The mage, with an axe embedded in his head, toppled backward, and a heavy silence settled over the chamber.
But only for a moment.
Rumble! Crash! Roar!
The howls of the frogmen echoed through the cavern.
“Damn it.”
Dalen drew his sword. With his left hand, he tightened the slightly loosened straps of his armor from the last battle, then unhooked the shield from his back.
“Are you… are you okay?” Penny looked up at him with anxious eyes. Dalen gave a curt reply.
“I’m fine.”
Except for the fact that things had just gotten a lot more complicated. He left that part unsaid.
Normally, the frogmen of the sewers don’t form such large groups.
At most, you’d see thirty or forty, maybe a hundred if you’re unlucky.
Their intelligence had regressed compared to their distant relatives in the labyrinth, so they couldn’t form large groups.
“So, usually, once the mage is down, they should scatter. It’s the dark magic that’s keeping them here.”
The strategy was to break through the frogmen army and take out their master.
That was the ideal way to tackle boss mob Delric Valentino.
But for some reason, even with their master down, the frogmen showed no signs of fleeing.
Rumble! Roar!
Instead, they bared their teeth at Dalen, ready to pounce at any moment.
Dalen had a hunch why.
“Still alive with an axe in his head, huh.”
He didn’t know how the mage survived. The hand axe had definitely pierced through the protective magic and lodged right between his eyes.
Rumble!
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was the reality that hundreds of frogmen were threatening to swarm him at any moment.
And unless he planned to kill every single one of them by himself, he needed to finish off the mage.
“If an axe to the head didn’t do it, then I’ll just have to take the whole head off.”
Splash!
Having made up his mind, Dalen took a bold step toward the altar.
Roar! Rumble!
The frogmen began to shriek more violently. Dalen smirked at the sight.
“Guess he’s not exactly alive.”
After all, who could stay sane with an axe in their brain?
The mage was clearly still breathing, but he didn’t seem to have the consciousness to strategically command the frogmen army.
If he did, they would have already torn him and Penny to shreds.
“Penny.”
“Y-yes?”
Her voice trembled. She was clearly shaken.
Dalen turned to meet her eyes, speaking slowly and clearly.
“Stay right there. I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded slightly, and Dalen turned his gaze forward again.
He took another step.
Splash.
Roar! Rumble!
Rumble!
Splash.
Roar! Rumble!
Rumble!
With each step toward the altar, their howls grew more intense.
Dalen strode forward, and after a few steps, he broke into a run.
Then, in the next moment.
Rumble!
The frogmen charged.
Crash!
Sewage splashed everywhere. Hundreds of feet running and leaping through the swamp created waves.
Dalen was the destination of that wave. He sprinted toward the altar, shouting.
“Come on, you frog-headed bastards!”
Roar!
One leaped in front of him. Dalen swung his shield.
Crunch!
Half of the frog’s face was crushed. Its remaining eye, the size of a fist, rolled wildly as it screamed.
Another one lunged right behind it. This time, he thrust his sword.
Slice!
Roar—
The superhuman strength behind the simple thrust severed the thick neck of the frogman.
The frog head floated briefly before falling to the ground.
Thud!
Before it hit the ground, four more were already charging.
Roar! Rumble!
He swung his sword. He bashed away reaching limbs with his shield. He stabbed the mouth of one trying to bite him, then slashed sideways to cut another’s waist.
Splash! Splash!
Frog limbs and heads rained down, creating a scene like a mad scientist’s dissection lab.
Entrails and black blood formed a sticky path on the walkway.
Dalen sprinted along the edge of that path.
Roar!
Crash!
He bashed an incoming head with his shield. This time, it wasn’t just the head that shattered.
Crack.
The shield wobbled precariously, scattering splinters. The leather covering it was already half-torn.
Crunch!
He cleaved one creature’s head diagonally, hearing something crack on the blade.
Dalen’s keen senses could see the fine cracks spreading across the entire sword.
He didn’t care. He kept running.
Rumble!
Clang!
Finally, the sword broke. The blade snapped off, lodged in the frogman’s chest.
All that remained in his hand was the hilt and a shard of the broken blade. Dalen tossed it aside without a second thought.
In the next moment, the hilt embedded itself in the forehead of a frogman. It collapsed instantly.
Crack!
The shield shattered into pieces. The tanned leather and the processed wood inside both broke apart, scattering as debris.
Dalen was now completely unarmed.
The frogmen seized the opportunity and charged.
Rumble!
These cunning hunters instinctively knew.
A beast without fangs, a human without weapons, was just a meal.
Roar!
Right in front of Dalen, a frogman drooled, baring its thick teeth.
Taller than its kin by half a head, with thicker limbs.
The leader of the hunting pack leaped, ready to swallow Dalen’s head whole.
And then, in the next moment.
Boom!
Its head exploded.
“Where do you think you’re pointing that filthy mouth?”
In front of the headless frogman’s corpse.
Dalen stood with his fist clenched tightly.
Penny felt like she was about to faint.
Dalen had told her to wait, then suddenly charged forward. Hundreds of frogmen swarmed at his provocation.
A wave of monsters that could tear apart even the city gate guards in an instant crashed over one man.
And then.
“What… what is that?”
That man was tearing through the wave.
With each flash of his sword, a head flew off. Or limbs with claws, or even entire torsos, were severed. Those who dodged the gleaming sword were crushed by the shield.
Faced with this surreal scene, Penny could only freeze.
How could a person grind monsters down like that? It wasn’t like pouring grain into a millstone and turning it.
But Penny’s awe-struck gaze didn’t last long.
Clang!
The sword broke.
“Ah…!”
She barely stifled a scream.
Dalen had clearly told her to stay put.
Charging out and shouting was obviously to draw the frogmen’s attention.
He must have a plan. That warrior wasn’t someone who acted recklessly.
Though it had been a short time, Penny had developed a certain trust in Dalen.
“Just wait a little longer. Just a bit more. If it really seems hopeless, then I’ll run and get help. Lady Sienna knows the Bronze Guard, so maybe…”
Crack!
Then the shield broke too. Penny’s legs wobbled.
What should she do? Should she run? Maybe the warrior had charged out to give her a chance to escape?
Was it even possible for a person to face hundreds of monsters alone…
Boom!
A frogman’s head exploded.
Fragments of dark red and white scattered.
Penny couldn’t believe her eyes.
Unarmed, Dalen began to crush the frogmen with his fists and feet.
His speed didn’t change. No, it was the opposite.
His attacks now, smashing with his fists, were faster and stronger than when he was cutting and bashing with his sword and shield.
The frogmen began to die faster and in greater numbers than before.
Penny’s legs wobbled for a different reason.
“Who… who is he?”
The unanswered question lingered in her mind.
Crunch.
His fist drove into a skull.
The superhuman strength behind the punch turned the brain to mush and then burst through the back of the head.
Boom!
Skull fragments scattered. Dalen withdrew his fist, spinning his body.
He drove his elbow into a frogman charging from behind.
Crack!
The skull caved in. Forward again. He kneed one in the gut, then took two steps forward and rammed another with his shoulder.
Roar—!
Gurgle!
The monster vomited its mangled innards and blood. Dalen’s body was already drenched in black blood.
The blood he was covered in wasn’t all from the monsters. Dalen’s body had started to accumulate cuts and bruises.
Huff.
His breath was ragged.
His stamina, not as high as his strength, was making his limbs heavy as the battle dragged on.
Crunch.
One of the creatures sank its teeth into his shoulder, the fangs piercing halfway through his skin.
Dalen swung his arm, backhanding the creature. It flew off, half its head shattered.
He exhaled sharply.
One step.
Dalen pressed forward.
Before he knew it, he was climbing the steps of the altar.
At the top lay a fallen sorcerer, still clinging to life, likely issuing orders to stop anyone who dared approach.
A rumble echoed.
A sharp slash—thick claws raked across his back.
Pain flared, and Dalen spun around, kicking out. The frogman crumpled, its chest caved in.
Another charged at him. He crushed its skull. Yet another lunged, and he snapped its legs.
Against the relentless wave of monsters, Dalen advanced step by step.
Finally, he reached the summit of the altar.
“Phew. Phew.”
His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind a blank slate.
Since gaining a body that surpassed human limits, he had never felt such exhaustion.
But he had won. The sorcerer lay at his feet.
Dalen surveyed the area with blurred vision.
Silence.
No more attackers.
“Is that all you got, you frog bastards?”
A laugh escaped him. Dalen spat out blood-tinged saliva.
“Your master’s dying. Are you just going to stand there?”
He pressed his foot down on the sorcerer’s neck. A few frogmen flinched.
But that was it.
Survival instinct.
The most primal desire of any living being overrode the sorcerer’s implanted commands.
“Idiots.”
Dalen looked down.
“Ki… kill… me…”
The sorcerer mumbled, eyes half-closed.
A thin, viscous liquid oozed from the axe embedded in his head.
The same substance he’d seen in the cultists, known for its healing and regenerative properties.
It was a hallmark of the cult with the grotesque masks. But the technique was still incomplete. Dalen chuckled.
“Injected yourself with an unfinished serum, did you?”
“Re…venge…”
“Bullshit.”
Dalen pressed harder with his foot. The sorcerer’s eyes widened in panic.
A sickening crunch.
The head rolled half a turn. It was over.
With their master dead, the frogmen turned and fled, as if nothing had happened.
They poured out of the sewer chamber like a receding tide, away from the monster who had slaughtered hundreds of their kin.
Dalen watched them go, letting out a small sigh.
“Phew.”
His body felt heavy. The superhuman strength made him resilient, but it didn’t grant him the sorcerer’s regenerative powers.
He’d have to visit the sorcerer’s lab to retrieve the body. Perhaps it held the answers he sought.
Dalen took a step, then nearly collapsed.
“Dalen!”
“I told you to stay put.”
Penny, who had caught his falling body, glared at him.
“Are you crazy? You expect me to just stand by while you’re dying? Is it because I’m just a sewer cleaner?”
“Public servants and their pride, I swear.”
“Did you just insult me in Northern?”
“No.”
Dalen pointed to a corner of the chamber.
“Let’s head over there.”
They descended the steps slowly. At the spot Dalen indicated, a small wooden door awaited.
As they entered, the sharp scent of chemicals hit them.
A worn desk, a half-empty bookshelf, dusty tomes, and broken lab equipment filled the room.
This was the lab of Delric, the dark sorcerer.
A final refuge for the outcast, hidden within the sewers.
In one corner, a young blond man lay bound. Dalen gestured toward him.
“Check on him.”
“Is that…?”
“Yes. The missing person we were looking for. I’m fine, just make sure he’s alive.”
Penny cast a worried glance at Dalen before rushing to the young man’s side, kneeling to check his pulse and breathing.
Dalen chuckled softly, turning his gaze away.
In the opposite corner, amidst the clutter, lay something only he could see.
[A mercenary’s body, used as a cultist’s experiment, was discovered.]
A gray corpse lay there, visible only to him.