Chapter 14

#014 Episode

Slap!

A dull roar erupted.

A sound that Meb had never heard during the fight.

Something that had been struck by the sword flew out and slammed into the ground right after.

Amidst the rising dust.

Swish-!

Ian, who had landed in front of it, knelt on one knee and slammed his sword down.

Slap! Crack! Snap!

Merciless blows continued.

Whatever had been pinned down couldn't withstand the impact and was flung up.

Meb finally identified what it was.

A pitch-black skull.

Its eye sockets were larger than those of a human.

‘…Was this the main body?’

Meb easily figured it out.

She didn't know how Ian had found it among the formless mass.

What mattered was that Ian had successfully accomplished the difficult task.

And he was about to shatter the skull.

“...”

Meb slowed her horse.

While she was briefly considering whether to help Ian,

Boom.

Red light beams shot out from the skull's eye sockets.

The same light she had seen earlier.

“■■■-! ■■■■ ■■■!”

A scream, like that of a wailing spirit, burst out from the gaping jaw.

Immediately, a crimson wave of magic power erupted from the skull.

“Ugh…?!”

Meb's eyes widened involuntarily.

Her body had frozen.

It was a curse so powerful that even she, enveloped in holy power, was paralyzed.

If she hadn't slowed her horse, she would have fallen off.

‘Then…?’

Meb's gaze turned to Ian.

Sure enough, Ian's movements, as he struck with his sword, had also stiffened.

Whoosh-!

The skull floated into the air.

Around it, dark clumps of energy began to spread.

“...”

Meb gritted her teeth.

It was clear that the creature was trying to return to its original form.

She needed to break free from the paralysis before that happened.

Just as she was about to hastily release her holy power,

Crunch.

Ian reached out and grabbed the skull.

“...!”

Feeling the hardness of the skull in his grip, Ian smiled.

‘I knew it, you bastard.’

Just like with Andolf, named monsters had at least one trick to escape dangerous situations.

Dullahans were no exception.

Ian had prepared for this.

The result was what he was doing now.

Not paralysis, but a momentary slowdown.

It lasted for only about a second.

It was the synergy of his high mental strength, magic power, and a few poorly chosen skills.

“...!”

Though the skull had no eyes, Ian could clearly feel the red light in its eye sockets waver in confusion.

He curled his lips into a smile and slammed the skull into the ground.

Smash!

With the added magic power, the skull was embedded deep into the ground.

The spreading dark energy dissipated.

Then Ian raised his sword.

Snap!

One-sided beating resumed.

There were no flashy techniques or dazzling skills.

Just repeatedly swinging the sword with all his might, regardless of the angle, and lifting it to strike again.

The only difference was that Ian's sword, now infused with wind blade magic and magic power, was causing more damage.

As the beating continued, the sword was also getting damaged.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Ian continued striking without hesitation.

Whenever the skull tried to escape, he would grab it and throw it back.

“...”

Meb watched the scene, her sword hanging by her side.

The paralysis had long worn off, but it was not a situation where she could intervene.

The once terrifying monster was being overwhelmed by such simple violence.

What was even more astonishing was that it was working.

The red light in the eye sockets wavered noticeably.

Snap! Crack! Crack!

Cracks appeared in the skull, and contaminated magic power seeped out like smoke.

Crack!

Ian's sword finally pierced the center of the skull's forehead.

The flickering red light in the eye sockets burst out in a flash.

“■■■-! ■■■■! ■■■!”

The Dullahan, with its misaligned jaw, howled.

To Meb, it sounded like a desperate final cry or a plea.

“■■! ■■■ ■■■■■!”

The skull, which had been screaming, suddenly rose, still impaled on the sword.

Then, Ian's lips moved.

“F*ck.”

Crack!

He slammed the sword into the ground.

Crack, a web of cracks spread across the skull, and dark magic power billowed out.

Aaaaah-!

A mournful scream echoed, and the light in the eye sockets flickered brightly.

The scream gradually faded like a deflating balloon.

As the light disappeared, the surroundings were suddenly enveloped in silence and darkness.

“Phew...”

Ian, who had been staring at the skull, finally knelt on one knee.

In that brief moment, the skull had become very old and worn out.

It looked as if it would crumble at the slightest touch.

Ian muttered softly.

“...What do I care about your grudge?”

He recalled the Dullahan's final cry.

A stale grudge, neither interesting nor worth remembering.

Crack.

The sword, which had been embedded, was easily pulled out.

Ian set aside the sword, which was almost unusable, and reached out to the top of the skull, now covered in broken bone fragments.

He felt a faint magic power.

The moment he picked up a bone fragment,

Swoosh-!

A small, pitch-black something shot out from the eye socket like an arrow.

There's still something left...?

His hand moved faster than he thought.

Ian reflexively caught the flying object.

Something wriggled in his grip.

A sharp pain followed.

“...?”

Ian's eyebrows furrowed.

Not from the pain, but from the magic power surging into his body.

Damp and sticky, contaminated magic power.

That wasn't all.

An inexplicable fear, endless hatred, and anger surged like a tidal wave.

Screams and wails echoed in his mind, and his vision turned red.

“Hmm...”

Ian was not swept away by the madness.

He was merely a bit surprised.

This level of spirit energy could not even slightly break his mental fortitude.

Unless he was thrown into a game as a villain, of course.

Of course.

“...So noisy.”

It wasn't that he wasn't bothered.

Ian tightened his grip.

Then, he pushed his own magic power into the wriggling thing in his hand.

Along with the contaminated magic power.

The wriggling intensified.

Why, it feels so bad when you get the same treatment, huh?

Ian, without blinking, continued to inject magic power.

Until the wriggling completely stopped.

Finally, his hand became still.

“...?!”

The real surprise came at that moment.

It felt as if a new sensory organ had grown in his hand.

A similar sensation to when he first felt magic power in his body, like having an extra limb.

Even more surprisingly, it conveyed not just sensations but also simple, clear emotions.

Submission. And obedience.

‘It has consciousness...? And it's communicating with me?’

He thought he had nothing left to be surprised about.

Admiring the situation, Ian opened his hand.

In the center of his palm,

A thin, black line appeared.

It was a snake, a thin black snake, about 5 cm long.

The snake looked up at Ian with tiny eyes.

The same emotion was conveyed again.

Complete obedience.

‘Well, did it become my pet or something?’

The snake, as if in response, wriggled its tail and burrowed into the glove.

Ian quickly took off his glove.

The snake was coiled around his middle finger.

It had its tail in its mouth, looking like a ring intricately crafted in the shape of a snake.

Ian's eyes finally lit up.

‘This...?’

Because this was the best trophy he could get from the Dullahan.

A unique-grade ring, the Hatred of the Swamp.

There was a restriction that the character would fall into a delirious state if they didn't have a certain level of mental strength and intelligence. It was an item he couldn't even use in the first chapter when he first obtained it.

He didn't expect the restriction to work this way.

And it was a real snake.

“What was that? I felt a sinister magic power.”

At that moment, Meb's voice echoed from behind.

She had dismounted and was approaching, her face mask raised.

Ian raised his right hand.

“This magic power is from the ring.”

Meb's eyes widened in surprise.

“To just put it on like that. Even if all the trophies are yours, are you sure it's okay?”

“See for yourself. I'm fine.”

Ian shrugged.

After carefully examining him, Meb met his gaze with an admiring expression.

“...You really have a knack for surprising people, Ian. Beating a spirit to death. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.”

“I'm doing it for the first time too.”

Ian chuckled and rummaged through the bone fragments of the skull.

“Since you said the trophies are mine...”

Soon, a familiar black sphere appeared on the tip of his finger.

Another essence of contaminated magic power.

“I'll take this too.”

Meb nodded.

While Ian put the essence in his pocket, she added,

“Can I have that skull? It seems to have significant value as evidence.”

“Sure.”

Ian handed over the skull.

Meb carefully took it, worried it might break.

She gazed at the large, cracked eye sockets and muttered,

“Giving power to an ancient spirit. I don't understand what the purpose of such actions is.”

“Who can understand a black mage's intentions? Maybe there's no grand plan at all.”

Ian replied casually as he stood up.

The purpose of a doomed man was none of his concern.

Now, he just wanted to examine the newly acquired ring in detail.

“...”

Meb's sigh continued.

Her eyes were filled with worry, more than just concern for the country's future.

Similarly, Ian had little interest in her story.

“Anyway, we'll find out everything when we meet him. He was quite talkative.”

Turning his body, Ian moved down the quiet hill.

“Let's go check if Philip is still alive.”

Tap. Tap.

A campfire illuminated the darkness.

Philip was preparing a meal, and the smell of roasting jerky and ham filled the air.

Ian, sitting on one side, didn't even glance at the food, focusing instead on the black ring on his finger.

Specifically, the information window of the ring that only he could see.

Hatred of the Swamp. This was the first unique-grade accessory he had obtained since falling into this world.

Its performance was outstanding.

Not just the increased stats.

The ability to induce a delirious state with a curse, at the cost of a small amount of life, was particularly noteworthy.

This was the same option it had when the world was a game.

‘I used it effectively back then.’

He would use it on enemies who got too close, to create distance or buy time to complete a spell.

It was also useful in one-against-many battles.

When in a delirious state, the distinction between friend and foe disappeared.

Now that the world was real, it could be used in even more areas.

‘I need to test how the curse manifests. As long as no one finds out I used it...’

While Ian was thinking,

“Damn...”

A low voice came from the darkness, and a man with a fierce expression appeared.

It was Miguel.

Covered in blood and dirt, he slumped beside the campfire.

Dust rose around him.

“...”

Philip, who was preparing the food, only frowned, not scolding him.

Miguel had dug graves for his fallen comrades.

Philip, turning the jerky, glanced at Miguel again.

“Phew...”

Philip's expression was utterly dejected as he stared at the campfire.

It was understandable.

Not only had they lost the mission, but all his subordinates were dead.

Especially since the tragedy occurred after faithfully completing the mission, it must have felt even more futile.

Philip, who had fought alongside him, knew how hard Miguel had tried to save his subordinates.

Philip, with a sympathetic look, finally spoke cautiously.

“You have a great sense of loyalty to your comrades. I see that again, Miguel.”

Miguel snorted.

“Loyalty? I did it to save myself. Leaving dead comrades behind is a bad omen.”

“Is that a superstition?”

“If I die and my comrades survive, I won't feel wronged in the afterlife. So, I make sure to bury them properly. No spirits or ghosts. Damn, it takes a lot of work...”

Despite his grumbling, his eyes were filled with bitterness.

Philip, moving his lips, picked up a skewer of ham.

Meb, meeting his gaze, shook her head and nodded at Miguel.

Philip quickly changed direction.

“Here, have this.”

“Thanks.”

Miguel, accepting the skewer without refusal, continued as he chewed the ham.

“The real problem is what comes next. Losing another group... This is the third time I've been the only survivor. Can you believe it? Three times I've been the only one left. What luck, right? If this gets around, who would want to work with me? Everyone dies except me. I might end up being called the Grim Reaper instead of a hunter. Three times is enough-.”

Miguel's words gradually turned into self-pity and complaints.

Perhaps this was his true feelings.

Philip, looking a bit annoyed, subtly turned his gaze.

Handing skewers to Meb and Ian in turn, he spoke while Miguel continued his complaints.

“Our journey is taking much longer than expected, sir.”

“Hmm.”

Meb nodded.

It was a concern she had as well.

Since Ian joined, they had been fighting almost every day.

They had even lost two horses. It meant their travel speed would be even slower from tomorrow.

“We still have at least a week to reach the Tomb Forest. Actually, it might take longer since we have to take a detour. We might not have time to search elsewhere at this rate.”

“...There's nothing we can do. We can only hope it's not in vain.”

Just as Meb sighed,

“Your destination is the Tomb Forest?”

Miguel interjected.

Philip nodded, and Miguel burst into a hollow laugh.

“Then it won't take a week. Even if we stop at a village, it will take at most five days.”

Philip's eyebrows shot up.

“There's no way. We have to go around the valley, which will take more time.”

“There's no need to go around. Just go straight through. There's a shortcut that only old mercenaries like me know. It's a bit dangerous, of course...”

“Can you guarantee that?”

Interrupting, it was Ian, who had been silently lost in thought.

Miguel, looking at him, swallowed and replied.

“Y-Yes. I've been there myself. It's a bit dangerous, as I said.”

“That's fine. Isn't it?”

Ian turned to Meb, who nodded readily.

“...”

The group's gaze naturally turned to Miguel.

Cold sweat appeared on Miguel's forehead.

“W-What do you want me to do?”

“To guide us. To the Tomb Forest.”

Pretending not to understand.

Ian, chuckling, flicked a coin from his pocket to Miguel.

“I'll hire you as our guide.”

Miguel, catching it by surprise, stammered.

“W-Well, even if you say that, I need to know why you're going to that cursed forest...”

His voice trailed off.

His eyes were fixed on the golden glow spreading from his hand.

His mouth moved numbly.

“...Is this an imperial gold coin?”