打光屁屁游戏

Chapter 272

At the same moment, the three stood up: the merchant of the Swift Trading Company, the merchant with a nose ring, and the merchant with a mustache. Just as they exchanged glances and opened their mouths to speak, Ian cut in.

"That will have to wait," Ian interrupted. The furrowed brows of the leaders turned toward him as he added, "Seems there’s a problem."

"A problem...?" the mustached merchant grumbled, frowning as one of the guards, now wide awake, pulled back the curtains to look outside. However, the meeting room was at the back of the mansion, leaving them with no clear view of the front. Fael, looking at Ian with a mix of disbelief and concern, watched as the guards rushed toward the hallway and into the room opposite.

"...?"

Ian followed but paused when Elia grabbed his wrist. He turned to look down at her and chuckled softly. A faint glow of magic swirled in her eyes.

"It seems the time has come, Sir Ian," she said.

"... Alright. Let’s see how useful this will be," Ian replied.

If you are that eager to help...

As Ian bent down, Philip kneeled on one knee nearby. Elia, her magic surging, gently placed both hands on Ian’s face. The scene appeared suspicious, but no one, aside from Fael, was paying attention to them.

"What the hell...?"

"Who are those bastards?"

"An ambush? But from who?"

The guards who had rushed into the other room gasped and shouted, some drawing their weapons. Several of the merchants had also moved to the windows, trying to get a better view.

"By Lu Solar, what on earth is going on?"

"What is that?" The gasps and murmurs of the merchants grew louder as they peered outside.

Shrrkk! Crunch!

"Ahhhh—"

"Get them! Disarm them!"

A violent scene unfolded in front of the mansion. Monstrous figures, swords in hand, mercilessly cut down the guards who rushed at them with bare hands. The merchants, more stunned than afraid, were dumbfounded—there were only four attackers.

However, the guards’ expressions grew grim. Even though they were unarmed, it should have been easy to overpower four assailants.

"Urgh...!"

"Gah, ugh..."

But now, instead of fighting back, the guards of the trading companies were being completely overpowered. The eerie violet gleam in the eyes of the strange assailants only added to the sense of impending doom.

"I suppose I should go check things out. You should all stay here," one of the guards muttered.

"I was dying of boredom anyway... might as well," another guard replied, exchanging glances with his comrades as they prepared to head outside.

"It’s best if you don’t go out," Ian said as he stepped into the room.

The guards halted abruptly. After all, Ian had been the first to notice something was wrong. Walking to the window, he looked outside and added, "That fog looks like a curse."

"Fog?"

The guards turned their attention back to the window. Sure enough, a thick, unnatural black fog was creeping into the garden. It seemed to spread both from outside and from within the mansion. Its darkness was so profound that, without the torches around the wagons, it would have been almost impossible to see.

The fog was slowly closing in on the wagons, though the fighting had distracted everyone from noticing it. Ian realized that this was the source of the contaminated magic he had sensed earlier, and to him, the fog seemed far more dangerous than the rampaging attackers.

They’ve probably bewitched the mercenaries and turned them into minions.

Blood was now dripping from the eyes and noses of the strange figures who continued to mow down the guards. It was a curse that empowered them at the cost of their life force, or perhaps a form of necromancy.

"Guh... Gurgle

..."

Meanwhile, the creeping fog enveloped the fallen guards, swallowing them one by one. Their bodies, exposed to the writhing darkness, turned black.

"This is insane..." one guard muttered.

"Where’s the caster? Who could pull off magic like this?" another guard asked, his expression frozen in shock.

Though these men were skilled in combat, facing magic was an entirely different matter. Some of them began fumbling with their gear, seemingly searching for magical items or tools to counter the curse.

"If you want to go out there and die fighting, by all means, do so. But if not, stay out of the lower floors. Merchants, stay in the meeting room and don’t leave," Ian said, gesturing toward the door.

The merchants, who had been staring blankly out the window, turned almost in unison back to the meeting room. As they did, they glanced at Philip, Elia, and Fael, who was standing nervously close to Philip.

"Argh... ugh..."

"Gah... Jonathan?"

"Ahhh! Ahhh!"

The screams from outside grew louder as the cursed fog engulfed more people. Meanwhile, the movements of the attackers, which had been slowing, picked up speed again. Their skin, now black as ink, pulsed with new energy.

"Hurry! Do as Sir Ian says!" Fael shouted.

The startled merchants hesitated before looking back at Ian.

"So, are we actually safe?"

"You need to explain what’s going on. What is going on? What is this curse?"

"How can you stay so calm? Did you know something like this was going to—"

Merchants... of course.

Ian sighed briefly and removed his helmet with a clang, tossing it to the floor. Even the guards, who had been preparing for battle, turned to watch him.

Shing—

Ian unsheathed his sword from his waist. Even in the dim light, the blade gleamed a brilliant white.

"...!"

The eyes of the merchants and guards widened in unison. A glowing hexagonal shield of golden light appeared from Ian\'s left hand. His darkened gaze swept over the merchants as he spoke in a cold tone.

"Move now. If you stay here, you’ll die by my hand—"

"Pal... Paladin!" Fael interrupted in a panic, cutting Ian off. Though his face reflected the same shock as the others, Fael quickly turned to the other merchants.

"These two are paladins! Do as they say, immediately!"

"Yes... understood!"

Finally, the merchants rushed toward the meeting room.

Had it not been for the quest...

Ian clicked his tongue in frustration, holding back his annoyance, and turned to leave.

"Graaaaaah—"

"Hrrgh... grkkk...."

The unmistakable, inhuman sounds echoed from outside. Those swallowed by the fog were rising again. Revived in the very state they had died, their bodies were completely blackened, and their eyes—now darkened entirely—gleamed with a disturbing light.

"Rrragh!"

"Graahhh—!"

The cursed undead, brought back by the malevolent magic, rushed at the living, some scrambling toward the mansion like wild beasts.

"They\'re coming! Sir, give us orders!"

Ian exchanged a glance with Philip, who had stepped forward to shield Elia, and then turned toward the hallway. "Handle the ones that come upstairs. Assist Sir Philip."

"And you, sir?"

Ian turned toward the hallway where the creatures\' screams echoed. "I’ll deal with the source of the curse."

With that, Ian sprinted down the hallway, the trail of the golden shield fading as he vanished into the distance.

"He’s going into the cursed fog?" one of the guards muttered in disbelief.

"Stay sharp and follow me, "Philip, now armed with his shining white shield and sword, stepped forward into the hallway.

Golden light flickered under his visor as he spoke.

"If you don’t want to die."

Crash!

At that moment, something shattered through the window—a blackened corpse with twisted joints tumbling across the floor before sluggishly rising again. It must have climbed the walls and broken through.

The sight of the darkened undead only lasted a moment before—

"Aaahhh!"

Several guards screamed and rushed at the creature.

***

Crunch!

As Ian descended to the lower floor, he swiftly cut an undead’s head clean in two. Even then, the creature did not die, and its severed torso reached out for him. A gleaming arc of white light sliced through its upper body once more.

"Gragh—" n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The bisected undead collapsed, and another rushed at him from behind. Ian plunged his sword into its chest, his eyes briefly turning to ash-gray.

Fwoosh!

A silent explosion tore the creature apart, scattering its remains into pieces. Ian peered through the fog of blood, observing the silhouettes of more undead moving in the shadowy hallway. These cursed undead were faster than typical ghouls, their bodies likely soaked in cursed magic.

Slash!

Ian charged through the crimson mist, bringing his blade down on another enemy’s head. The upper floor echoed with shouts and the sounds of battle. It seemed many of the creatures had crawled up the walls to join the fray.

Shktt! Crack!

But Ian focused solely on the enemies before him. Philip was upstairs, and Ian trusted him to protect the merchants.

Thud! Crack!

The white streaks left by Ian’s sword cut down the undead one after another. Occasionally, the golden trail of his Platinum Barrier would stroke down the creatures that were climbing the walls or ceiling.

"...!"

Ian\'s eyes flickered for a moment as he noticed the black fog creeping up around his feet. The curse was attempting to latch onto his body. Yet, unlike the undead, the curse did not consume him. It only drained a bit of his energy, leaving a scratchy feeling in his throat, like breathing in smoke.

I thought I’d be completely resistant to it... Still, better than nothing.

Thinking, he pressed forward through the hallway, cutting down enemies along the way. He had no intention of using wide-area magic. Unless he had a designated zone to work with, a misstep could cause the mansion to collapse or harm those on the upper floor.

–There!

A voice rang in his mind just as he reached the midpoint of the hallway. It was Elia, using a Vision spell called Whisper, a minor communication spell that Ian had never bothered to learn.

–The flow of magic is concentrated near you! Do you see anything?

Elia’s ability to detect magic was sharper than Ian’s. Her Magic Detection skill allowed her to sense magical flows with more clarity and from a greater distance than Ian could.

Ian frowned, cutting down more ghouls as he responded.

–I see nothing.

–That can’t be... There should be concentrated magic in that area.

If that’s the case...

Ian tightened his grip on his sword.

The cursed undead, who had been charging him nonstop, began retreating, making way for a figure clad in black armor. The dark warrior gripped a sword and fixed its violet, blackened eyes—whose whites had turned completely black—on Ian with a piercing gaze.

And it wasn’t alone. Two more similar figures approached from the distance, their eyes glowing with the same dark power.

"Completely turned into a demon, haven’t you..." Ian muttered as he raised his Platinum Barrier.

With a monstrous roar, the demon charged straight at him.

Tat-tat-tat!

Ian rushed to meet it head-on.

His focus sharpened to its peak naturally. The lingering effects of the curse faded into the background, leaving his vision and senses crystal clear as his Concentration heightened further.

Clang!

The demon\'s blade slammed into Ian\'s Platinum Barrier, but the barrier only shimmered faintly, neither cracking nor faltering. Ian felt the magic stored in the circuits of his hand slightly diminish.

It didn’t matter—there was still plenty of stored energy in the circuit, and if he used it all up, he could always channel his magic to power it. He had learned this through testing, having once let Philip attack it until it finally broke. The only downside was that using his magic was less efficient and limited his ability to cast other spells, but in a situation where he had to avoid apparent magic, it wasn\'t a significant concern.

My magic power is low, but the demands keep increasing, Ian thought as he swung his Truesilver Steel Sword horizontally.

Shhk! Swish!

The gleaming blade, infused with the Wind Blade, sliced cleanly through the leather armor and waist of the demonized mercenary. Black ichor gushed from the severed body, splattering onto Ian\'s face. However, there was no time to wipe it away.

Ssshhk!

The next demon lunged at him. Ian charged back, meeting the creature\'s attack with a quick strike of his sword.

Crash!

The demon’s blade shattered on impact with Ian’s, and he took advantage of the opening, swinging his left arm toward its exposed neck.

Thwack!

The shield\'s edge severed the demon’s neck cleanly. Though Ian felt almost no weight in his left arm, the barrier served as a deadly weapon in its own right. As the body crumpled, Ian hesitated for a moment before raising the shield again.

Clang!

Another demon swung a massive ax down at him, intending to crush both Ian and the previous attacker in one blow.

Krakoom!

The ax collided with Ian’s shield, sending a shockwave of dark energy rippling through the air. Ian’s knees buckled slightly from the force. The demon loomed over him, its lips curling as it spoke.

"What... are you...?" the creature rasped, its voice like metal scraping against stone. The demon’s violet eyes, glowing eerily, flashed as they focused on Ian.

Ah, so you’ve been watching all along.

"What do you think?" Ian replied, tightening his grip on his shield.

Clang!

He swung the shield in a powerful arc, sending the demon flying backward. It crashed to the ground, shattering the stone floor as it skidded to a stop.

"I’m the one who\'s going to take your head, curse caster," Ian said, adjusting his grip on his sword.

The demon’s lips twisted into an unnatural grin.

"You can tell... Impressive. You’ve got quite the understanding of dark magic," it sneered.

"A little. And I also know that you\'re hiding down here, in the sewers."

"...!" The demon hesitated for a moment, taken aback.

Ian crouched slightly, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"Fitting, isn’t it? A cockroach should live in the sewers where it belongs."