Chapter 47
How long would we keep fighting like this?
The once sharpened weapons had become dull and were now snagged in the bones of our enemies, clattering to a halt. The remnants of arrows, magic, and divine miracles had dwindled to less than half.
“Northwest direction! It’s him, the Abyss Priest!”
The true villain of this battle finally revealed himself.
“You’re holding on quite well. Impressive.”
An old man clad in a black robe, hood pulled low. Beneath his wrinkled face, a bushy white beard sprouted, and a small dagger peeked out from the wide sleeves.
“Hounds bewitched by the scent of the goddess’ wrath. Lowly curs blinded by silver coins…”
He extended his right hand, still gripping the dagger, and pointed at us with a voice that cracked like old bark, full of scorn and mockery.
Shrouded in a shadowy aura, he swayed like a mirage.
It looked like he was about to give a rousing speech about the Communist Manifesto at any second.
His grim attire spoke volumes of his antisocial and asocial nature.
Even the dark mist swirling around him resembled boiling black corpses.
Truly, the name “Abyss Priest” suited him all too well.
“The Abyss desires your blood and soul. Rejoice and offer your life, rise anew as the army of death!”
Perhaps he was intoxicated by his own speech, as he declared with elevated fervor, stating he would turn us all into the undead.
Upon finishing his words, the Abyss Priest plunged the dagger into his left arm with a thud.
A sudden act of self-harm. His left arm, hidden beneath the sleeves, twitched violently as if in a spasm…
Riiiip—something grotesque burst forth, tearing the fabric to shreds.
No longer would anyone call it a human arm.
His left arm had morphed into a mass of tentacles tipped with sharp claws, instead of the bones, muscles, flesh, and skin that were meant to be there.
I wasn’t sure if such a bizarre transformation was practical, but it certainly was impressive in appearance.
“Step out from the skirt of the goddess and accept the grace that your true deity shall bestow upon you. The grace of eternity!”
In any case, he pointed his wriggling tentacle-arm at the Paladins, wearing a mocking expression that was ripe for a hammer to the head.
“Ughhh! How dare you blaspheme before me! You madman driven insane by the goddess!”
“Blasphemous! Unholy! It’s an unutterable sin. You must be branded and burned over ten days!”
As expected, the Paladins were fuming with rage, practically frothing at the mouth as they radiated deadly intentions.
“Blasphemer born of a parental mistake, even your child will spit on your corpse out of shame for your sins!”
Were they from the same country as me? Their rhetoric was ferocious!
I realized then that Priest Bolton’s rage against the undead was nothing more than a woman’s bad mood on her period.
The real rage of the Paladins and Priests resembled that of a starving mad dog let loose for ten days!
Grrrr…! “I shall rip that foul blasphemer to shreds and offer it to the goddess’ spirit!”
Even the commanding Paladin was no exception.
Where had his previously calm demeanor gone? He rolled his eyes back, a white gleam shining brightly from them as he screamed like thunder.
He declared he would turn that Abyss Priest into a human puzzle.
“Paladin Order, follow me—!”
With the Holy Spear firmly grasped, he leapt into the air, pouncing toward the Abyss Priest like a beast.
As the Abyss Priest pointed his dagger, a horde of undead swarmed out from behind him, blocking the way.
Revenants wielding massive shields formed a shield wall, while skeletons armed with bows lined up behind them, all drawing their bows in unison.
Lastly, two bloated hosts stomped forward, sharp claws extended.
“Do you think such flimsy shields can block the goddess’ spear?!”
The commanding Paladin threw his Holy Spear at the Revenants, shattering part of the shield wall, and charged in, swinging his golden sword like a storm in all directions.
It was a sight that radiated majesty, even beyond just bravery.
… If only I could momentarily ignore the fact that he was a commander and not just a mere soldier.
“Hah…”
I sighed lightly as the martial artist extracted his sword from the undead’s broken collarbone.
What was that guy doing?
If he dies, who will lead us now?
“Follow Beckman! Everyone, charge!”
Did he share my concerns, or was he just as blinded by fury as his commander?
The Paladins, who were battling the bloated hosts one by one, raised their golden-bladed swords and rushed after Beckman.
“Wha—what! What are we supposed to do if you all leave?!”
The remaining adventurers erupted in confusion.
Since most of the Paladins had lost their wits and charged at the Abyss Priest, the gap they had been guarding now stood wide open.
“Consolidate the formation and hold the line! We must defeat him!”
One Paladin, still somewhat rational, turned around mid-run, shouting.
He suggested they take care of the Abyss Priest quickly and return, telling them to hold on defensively until then.
“Holding the line…! Easier said than done, damn it.”
“… It’s not like we have other options. Let’s just do as we’re told for now.”
The adventurers clicked their tongues or shook their heads, voicing their discontent, but they retreated and continued fighting the undead as ordered.
Perhaps it was due to the experience of being seasoned adventurers, they managed to keep the battle going somewhat.
“Heeeey!”
“The bloated host is going wild! Be careful!”
“Surround it, surround it! It’s got two arms; surely we can land a few hits from all sides!”
The warriors encircled the few remaining bloated hosts, cutting and stabbing from all directions like they were playing a twisted game of Adult Pirate Roulette.
You know, the one where you stab a pirate in a barrel from all sides until they die? That game was all the rage back in the day, wasn’t it?
That’s exactly what the bloated hosts were facing.
Fwooosh!
“Cough…!”
With every swing of its arms, a few adventurers spewed blood and flew backward.
However, simultaneously, over five swords found their way into its body.
“Now! Stab it!”
“Dieee!”
“Ughhh! Kyaaaah! Owwwww!”
Even the bloated lord wouldn’t escape being minced to shreds under such a furious assault.
It was rapidly turning into a rag, bursting like a dandelion scattering its white seeds everywhere…
“This bastard is releasing spores again! Hold your breath!”
It was nothing more than a trapped beast flailing in its death throes.
“Johann! How many purifying miracles do we have left?!”
“Two more left!”
The Paladins had abandoned all sense of formation as they rushed to kill the Abyss Priest, but the priests still supporting the adventurers with blessings and purifications had saved the day.
“Hey, got any spare arrows? If so, just a half bundle!”
“You see any? I’m broke, broke! What the hell is with all these undead?!”
“I can’t fight anymore! The rest is up to you!”
“I’ve used up all my magic… I’ll take a break until midnight!”
Most of the warriors were occupied dealing with the bloated hosts, which relieved some of the burden off those fighting other undead. Still, it seemed, miraculously, we could manage to hold out.
That was good enough.
“Is this really all you’ve got?!”
“Let’s hear more shouting like before! You blasphemous bug!”
“The goddess hears your screams!”
While we held out, the frenzied Paladins were literally shredding the Abyss Priest and his escort to pieces like a blender.
“Kuh…! Quite impressive, goddess’ hounds…!”
The Abyss Priest swung his tentacle arm, attempting to whip us, yet could not keep up with Beckman’s swordplay that radiated holy light, falling into a defensive position.
Were his arrogant remarks upon appearing merely bluffs?
He had summoned this many undead yet seemed pitifully weak in combat skills.
It seemed he had put no effort into anything other than creating undead… there’s only so much one can dig in a single well.
There’s no wonder he would be defenseless when faced with the Paladins’ advance.
After about ten minutes…
“Kaaaah!”
At last, Beckman’s sword sliced off the Abyss Priest’s left arm at the shoulder.
“Kuah…!”
He staggered back while letting out a pained scream, clearly on the brink of defeat—no, his life was hanging by a thread.
As Beckman took to the ground for a finishing blow, two Wights relentlessly charged forward, momentarily halting him.
“These bugs!”
Of course, the time they bought was nothing but a fleeting moment.
With a thunderous blow, Beckman’s sword struck one Wight’s neck, while plunging into the other’s waist, snapping it in half.
“Kriic…!”
The Wights fell, instantly lifeless.
However, that brief moment allowed the Abyss Priest one last opportunity.
“Ugh…! Don’t think this is the end!”
He shouted a typical third-rate villain line as he reached out into empty space.
In the next moment, the undead, already being hacked apart by the Paladins, began to swell up, bulging like half-rotten meat balloons.
“It’s a ‘Corpse Explosion’! Defend!”
As Beckman shouted in panic, the Paladins promptly unfolded their holy barriers to prepare for the impending explosion.
KABOOM!
A deafening roar followed. The undead, inflated to their limit, burst like bombs, scattering flesh and bone shards everywhere.
ZZZZZ-!
Nevertheless, most of it was simply blocked by the translucent holy light barrier, falling harmlessly.
“The bastard is escaping!”
While the Paladins were preoccupied protecting against the corpse explosion, the Abyss Priest held onto his severed shoulder and fled with everything he had.
He dashed back into the dark forest he had emerged from.
… If he was planning to escape after taking a hit or two, he could have at least kept his mouth shut. What a disgusting retreat.
“Don’t let him get away—! We pursue!”
Of course, the Paladins would not let such a spectacle slide.
“You blasphemous cultists like vermin from a brothel! Where do you think you’re running?!”
Beckman and the entire Paladin Order leaped into the forest, roaring with ferocity,
charging in like a gang of elementary school kids sprinting after a truck full of hamburgers, not considering the ensuing consequences.
◆◆
As the Paladin Order rapidly retreated, the adventurers sank to the ground, exhaling heavily.
They were not giving up on the fight. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
“Is it… over…?”
“Huff… huff… I’ll never take a request like this again…!”
With no more enemies left to fight, they could finally enjoy a proper rest.
By the time the Abyss Priest fled, we had managed to turn back all the approaching undead into dead once and for all.
It turned out there was an end even to the seemingly endless horde of monsters.
“We won! We actually won!”
Some thrilled adventurers still had enough energy to raise their hands in celebration, while others, too exhausted to even cheer, simply gathered with their party and shared quiet smiles, relishing their victory.
The priests rushed around, tending to the wounds of those who had been injured during the battle.
Indeed, we had triumphed. Finally.
Everyone seemed to believe so.
That’s why none of the adventurers complained about the Paladins’ reckless charge. They only hoped for their speedy return.
As long as they came back holding the Abyss Priest’s head, we would be able to return to the city.
“…Still, they didn’t have to charge in like that, right?”
Only I, unable to suppress my complaints, mumbled as I searched for my helmet, which had flown off somewhere during the battle.
“Thank goodness we managed to kill all the undead here; otherwise, what would have happened if more formidable foes remained?”
No matter how many times I gave it the benefit of the doubt, I couldn’t applaud their actions.
The adventurers and priests had struggled to wipe out the undead forces; we were just lucky. If we had been pushed back, by the time the Paladins returned, we could have only found corpses everywhere.
“Perhaps they’re just unwise because they’re frontier Paladins.”
It was intolerable to hold back my grievances.
“—Indeed. Quite right. The young lady is exceptionally wise.”
Then, a strange voice replied.
“Cool-headedness is a fine virtue. You shall become a splendid adventurer.”
A voice I had never heard throughout these two days since joining the expedition—deep, rich, and rumbling, like that of an old man.
“What…?”
I instinctively spun around, looking towards the source of the voice, recalling the adage that hoping for the impossible can nail one’s fate.
And then I turned to see…
“Fanaticism robs one of their intellect. Even the most feeble counterfeit can deceive and befuddle you to the point of absurdity.”
An old man cloaked in black, approaching silently like a ghost.
“…Who are you?”
I bit my lip and aimed my sword at him.
Chills ran down my spine.
His words were far too ominous for an adventurer.
The attire seemed made from the darkness of night, utterly concealing the inside.
And above all, the ominous aura he radiated eclipsed that of the ‘Abyss Priest’ who had just fled.
“Oh, right… I hadn’t introduced myself yet.”
Brunhilde’s intuition honed from her time as an adventurer was sounding alarms.
“I am Hugh Casval, a mage priest dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge of the abyss.”
Before my eyes stood an Abyss Priest.
Not the counterfeit from earlier, but the true embodiment of an Abyss Priest.
“What you call a ‘lowborn butcher.'”
A faint smile spread across the bearded old man’s face.