Chapter 31
“Awooo!”
A howl burst from the lycanthrope that charged at Heter as though it had been waiting for this moment.
The claws—harder than most metal and used for dagger blades—sliced through the air toward him.
Swish.
“Yip?”
The first arm to swing was sent flying into the air, trailing red drops of blood.
“Grrraugh!”
The one that had lost an arm let out a scream of pain while clutching its severed limb, but the other two charging alongside it paid no attention.
They hadn't been the ones injured, for one thing, and what mattered now was that the human had swung a metal blade.
They instinctively knew that the human would need time to retrieve the blade before attacking again.
But before that, their claws would tear that thing to shreds.
The lycanthrope smiled in anticipation of the feel of its claws raking Heter's face and the stimulating smell of blood, but it had overlooked one thing.
Thump.
Heter wasn't helpless without his sword.
“Grr?”
Still gripping his sword in his right hand, Heter reached out with his left and grabbed the severed arm.
As mentioned before, lycanthrope claws were hard.
Psshk.
“Graaaugh?!”
They were hard enough to pierce not only a fellow lycanthrope's eye but its skull as well.
“Aaargh!”
The one whose eye was pierced by the arm Heter threw collapsed and writhed.
It probably couldn't fight anymore, but one remained.
The claws of the last one, which had come within arm's reach of Heter.
“Kyaaow!”
It cried out in delight.
It thought that at this distance, blocking with a sword or dodging would be impossible.
Even if he dodged, it wouldn't matter.
If his throat were torn, blood would gush like a fountain, and if he retreated and had his chest torn open, his lungs and heart would be exposed.
As it wished, the last lycanthrope's claws did indeed touch Heter's body.
However.
Screeeech.
“?!”
The problem was that the place they touched was neither his face, throat, nor chest, but the pauldron on his shoulder.
Tap.
Heter turned his shoulder in line with the direction and angle of the swing, and the claws slid over the smooth pauldron, leaving a long scratch.
What would happen to the lycanthrope whose stance had been thrown off after attacking with all its strength.
I doubt I need to spell it out.
Swish.
‘What is this.’
Zma, who had come from the South, could hardly believe his eyes, unaware that his mouth had fallen open.
A single breath.
That was all it took to subdue three lycanthropes.
It wasn't as though these lycanthropes had charged thoughtlessly, either.
As he had instructed, if one was taken down, the other two were positioned to kill the opponent for certain; even if two were taken down, the last one could finish the opponent off.
And yet he hadn't even suffered a scratch.
“You… what are you?”
….”
Without answering, Heter swung his sword as freely as a fish moved through water.
Even as he did so, one lycanthrope's upper and lower body were cleanly severed in two.
At this rate, they might truly all be wiped out by a single man.
“Fall back!”
Flinch.
At Zma's shout, the lycanthropes charging Heter faltered and began backing away.
“Hmm.”
Heter, who had just thrust his sword into another one's neck, watched the retreating creatures with an impassive expression.
“Am I supposed to go now?”
“Wait! Let's talk first…!”
Swish.
The neck of one of those retreating fell to the ground.
‘You savage bastard!’
I said we should talk, so why won't he listen?!
It seemed too late to resolve this with words.
“Damn it.”
I never thought I'd have to use this.
Wearing a lycanthrope's hide, Zma pulled the wolf's head over his own like a mask and thrust his arms into its forelegs.
“Ripenhaya. Om Mae. Birkang.”
And then, just as he began chanting a strange incantation—not in his tribe's language—
Crack, crunch.
“Grrrgh!”
The lycanthrope hide slowly began merging with Zma's skin.
This time, Heter, who had crushed one creature's head with the pommel, saw this and muttered,
“Spirit possession?”
“…You know this too?”
Zma was startled once again.
Knowing their language and cutting down lycanthropes single-handedly was one thing, but he even knew his tribe's secret technique.
“I see. So you must have come from the South rather than the North.”
If so, it made sense that he knew their language and about spirit possession.
“Graaaugh!”
While the lycanthropes bought him time, Zma finally became one with the hide and transformed into the shape of a wolf rather than a human.
Although using spirit possession would cause his intelligence to decline for a while and make murderous urges toward humans well up inside him, making it a technique he wanted to avoid if possible, this was no time to hold back.
The dense patterns etched across his fur, his eyes burning like sulfur, and his pupils slit vertically—
Zma exuded a more dangerous aura than the other lycanthropes.
“Here I come.”
Then Zma lowered his stance and stamped on the ground.
Boom!
With an explosive sound, Zma's body shot forward like a cannonball.
Whoosh!
In the blink of an eye, Zma reached Heter and swung his arm.
The attack was no different from the other lycanthropes', but the result was not the same.
“Huh?”
Even though his claws hadn't touched him, a red line had appeared across Heter's face.
It was caused solely by the pressure of air from the swing.
The force was tremendous, and it was a technique never seen in magical beasts.
“How do you like that? Aren't you regretting not agreeing to talk sooner?”
….”
Zma said something, but Heter was in no state to pay attention.
『I’ll return without getting hurt.』
『Very well. I shall trust you.』
Crack.
Now, because of this wound, he would be unable to keep his promise to Alice.
He had already been displeased by the mention of targeting Alice, and now he was in a situation where he couldn't even keep his promise to her.
Of course, Alice wouldn't scold him for breaking his promise.
She would merely worry as she looked at his injury and asked how it had happened.
Even if it was for his sake, he hated seeing her worry.
“How irritating.”
“Grr?”
At that moment.
Heter's gaze toward Zma changed.
A fury so intense that even a magical beast insensitive to human emotions could feel it clearly.
‘What is this…?!’
His instincts, sharpened by spirit possession, sounded an alarm that danger was near, but he couldn't flee.
The instant he showed an opening, even for a moment—
Clang!
“Guh.”
The sword he had barely blocked with his claws would surely cut through his heart.
Scrape.
Zma's claws and Heter's sword crossed and shrieked.
Clang!
The clash knocked both hand and sword back, and Heter swung his sword at Zma again.
It was a crude attack unlike when he had cut the lycanthrope's arm and head moments ago.
A sword style that relied solely on strength and momentum.
Even more bewildering was that his strength and momentum were overpowering Zma, who had even used spirit possession.
“That’s impossible!”
Zma continued to pit his strength against Heter's, denying reality, but it didn't last long.
‘At this rate… I’ll lose!’
For some reason, if he continued relying on strength, he would definitely lose.
Therefore, what Zma chose was—
Tap.
“Guh!”
He chose to take the sword straight through his body, even at the cost of sacrificing one arm.
Heter's sword cut deeply through one arm and the left side of his upper body, but it did not kill him instantly with a single stroke.
To endure this much damage just to block a single attack.
It was truly a crude, brutish method.
“Tsk.”
Seeing this, Heter clicked his tongue and put force into pulling out his sword, but—
Grip.
The muscles that had somehow fused with the sword as well would not let Heter pull it free.
“Goooaaagh!”
Then, as Zma let out a mighty roar, his upper body split open with a crack, and human-shaped Zma charged at Heter with an axe, like an insect tearing its way out of a cocoon.
It was an ambush no one unfamiliar with it could possibly avoid.
But.
Clang!
“?!”
As though he had predicted Zma's movement, Heter broke the sword fused to the hide, then immediately cut through Zma's axe-wielding arm.
“Huh?”
A dazed sound escaped Zma's mouth, and before the pain from his severed arm could travel along his nerves to his brain—
Swish.
Zma's vision slowly rotated counterclockwise.
‘Ah, I see.’
Zma, whose thoughts had slowed as a side effect, could only now deduce why.
‘Someone who knows about spirit possession couldn't possibly be unaware of this ambush.’
That this was his own cause of death.
Thump.
Zma's head, his eyes wide open, rolled across the ground and disappeared into the bushes.
Drip, drip.
Heter, drenched in blood, looked around, and the lycanthropes watching their fight scattered among the trees, refusing even the scent of blood they loved.
Tossing aside the broken sword carelessly and taking Zma's axe, Heter immediately started running toward the mansion.
The barbarians from the South always traveled in groups, so they couldn't possibly be alone.
***
When Heter defeated Zma and came running toward the mansion,
“Ruby!”
“Ugh….”
Alice was desperately calling out to Ruby, who lay sprawled on the floor.