打光屁屁游戏

Chapter 273

At that moment, the cursed undead scattered like cockroaches to the sides of the hallway.

"But it doesn’t matter... As long as I take care of those greedy merchants..."

Ian’s brow furrowed slightly.

So the taunt didn’t work.

Shwack—

Without another thought, Ian charged forward.

"Grr... Whoa—"

The demon abruptly raised his ax, its shoulders trembling. Yet in the eyes of the howling creature staring at Ian, the reason it once had was nowhere to be found.

Thwack!

With a clean slash, Ian cleaved the demon’s head in two. The blade sliced straight down through the demon’s body, splitting it all the way to the groin. As the severed pieces fell apart, Ian landed smoothly and dashed forward again, not even waiting for the body to collapse.

Fuck...

He was now drenched in the creature\'s thick, black ichor, but there was no time to worry about it.

It seemed the curse caster was trying to flee. While most mages let their pride lead them into traps, this one seemed more driven by fear or caution. In hindsight, Ian probably should have realized it from how the mage never revealed himself during the attacks.

Maybe he can’t afford to be discovered.

Feeling a slight sting on his face from the fluid covering it, Ian continuously glanced at the rooms lining both sides of the hallway. Every door and window was shattered, and there was no sign of the dead. All that filled the space was a black fog, darker than the dimly lit interior, swirling across the floor.

Sensing the commotion upstairs growing louder, Ian pressed forward without stopping. He needed to find the way to the basement.

—H-Hurry, Godfather...! There are just... too many of them. I never imagined it would be this horrifying...

Elia\'s panting whispers echoed in his mind.

I wish I could.

Ian muttered inwardly, as he kicked the door at the end of the hall.

Bang!

He was outside, behind the mansion. As Ian continued walking, he finally discovered the stairs leading down to the basement.

The thick black mist seeping from below confirmed he was in the right place.

I hate sewers.

Clicking his tongue in disgust, Ian descended the narrow, tunnel-like staircase without hesitation. It was cramped, low, and dark, and the cursed fog was so thick it stung his eyes. Neither the light of his Platinum Barrier nor his Magic Detection was much help anymore.

—Can you sense where I am, Elie?

Splash.

Ian whispered as he entered the sewer, half-crouched. A response came immediately.

—Yes, I can feel it.

—Guide me to the source of the magic.

—For now... just keep going. The source is to the northeast from the direction you\'re heading.

Following Elia\'s whispered guidance, Ian moved. It was like going through a CBR training, complete with the sewage reaching his ankles and the nauseating stench.

–Fuck...

–Is something wrong?

–Everything’s wrong. Well, never mind that. How’s the situation up there?

–It’s not good. I think the curse is even in the blood of these undead. Three of the guards are already down...

That explains the burning sensation, Ian thought, clicking his tongue in frustration as Elia’s whisper continued.

–Sir Philip’s miracle is holding them off for now, but it looks shaky. I think it’s because it’s night.

–Shaky...? Philip, how long can you hold out?

Ian furrowed his brow.

Normally, Philip should complain loudly about being on the verge of death by now.

He knew Philip was connected through Elia’s link, but it was Elia who responded as he rounded a corner.

–He says he’s not sure how to answer. Just said to hurry because he feels like he’s about to die. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Ah, that explains the silence. He didn’t know how to whisper back.

–Hang in there, Philip. If you’re really struggling, let the guards handle the fighting and just focus on praying. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Ian straightened up as he felt the surrounding space widen.

–There! That has to be it!

–I know.

I’m looking at it.

Ian thought as he looked around the basement.

The space appeared to be a secret refuge or a resting area for workers maintaining the sewers.

Shhhh...

In the center of the room stood a makeshift wooden platform, likely brought in from elsewhere. On it lay a large piece of parchment inscribed with a spell circuit. At the center of the circuit rested a large essence bead, glowing with an ominous violet light. The whole setup radiated a sinister black energy that spread the dark mist throughout the room. The platform itself looked like an island rising from a sea of darkness.

As expected, they knew the meeting location in advance and prepared this. Maybe they found out while attacking Bor.

Whatever the case, Ian now knew why he had felt that nagging sense of dread but couldn’t pinpoint the source earlier. The magic circuit hadn’t been activated yet, so there had been nothing to detect. It made sense—something like this happening underground wouldn’t be easily felt from above.

Thump...

The fragment within Ian stirred.

Shut up. You’re on probation, He muttered internally as he gripped his Truesilver Steel Sword.

Slash!

With a clean strike, the glowing white arc of his blade shattered the essence bead, splitting the platform and the spell circuit beneath it. The essence bead’s magic flared briefly before dissipating.

Ssshh...

The magic circuit lost its glow, and the black mist surged before retreating like a receding wave. No more mist spread into the room.

"...."

Despite that, Ian’s expression remained unchanged. The dark mage was nowhere to be seen. He must have slipped away through the sewers while Ian had been searching for the source of the curse.

Like a damn cockroach.

Clicking his tongue, Ian turned back the way he came.

Though the source of the curse was destroyed, the mist hadn’t vanished immediately. It was still fueling the undead, keeping them animated. Worse, their blood was cursed as well, as Elia had mentioned earlier. Even if Philip could hold his ground, ‌one of the merchants might die. There was no hard number on the quest, but if any of them died, ‌the mission would fail.

I didn’t go through all this trouble just to fail now.

Grinding his teeth, Ian sprinted up the stairs to the second floor.

"Graaah—"

"Screeech...! Grghk...!"

The black mist stretched across the hallway like a dark carpet, with the backs of rampaging undead in sight. Beyond them, a faint golden barrier shimmered—it was Philip’s holy barrier, holding back the cursed mist and the undead. Though the light had dimmed, it was still doing its job.

Crash! Slash!

Without stopping, Ian charged into the undead from behind, cutting them down with swift, white arcs of his blade.

Crunch— Splurt!

Aside from the Sword of Judgment and the Black Sword of the Third Apostle, Ian’s Truesilver Steel Sword was the best weapon he had ever wielded. Considering one was a holy blade and the other a cursed weapon, it was nearly impossible to find a better standard sword than this one.

No wonder it is a unique-grade item.

Slash! Thud!

After relentlessly cutting, stabbing, and smashing through barriers, Ian finally laid eyes on the survivors. Only two guards remained, fighting with a holy veil before them.

Behind them, the Imperial guard was wielding a sword engulfed in flames, while the Northerner on Ian’s side desperately swung a single-edged ax and struck down the dead with an iron gauntlet crackling with lightning.

Amidst the swarming dead, Ian glimpsed at Philip kneeling by the door.

He was focusing on his prayers, following Ian’s advice. Being the dead of night, there was no other way to replenish the divine power needed for the holy barrier.

"Move!"

Ian shouted to the Northman warrior, locking eyes with him as he beheaded another undead. Then he smashed the undead’s body against the wall with his shield, reducing it to a mess of flesh and bone. The Northman instinctively stepped aside, giving Ian space to charge forward.

"Puff...!"

The Imperial guard, who had been slashing with his flaming sword, quickly pressed himself against the wall as well. With the path clear, Ian surged forward with the Platinum Barrier leading the way.

Crack—

The undead were crushed and pushed back under the weight of Ian’s shield, while the glowing white arc of his sword cut through them with seamless precision.

Slash, crack— Splinter!

It was a one-sided massacre.

The rampaging undead couldn’t break through the shield, and Ian’s steel sword sliced through their cursed flesh and bones as if they were paper. Neither the lingering mist nor the cursed blood was able to slow him down.

Thud—

The last undead fell to the ground.

Between the slowly receding black mist, the hallway presented a litter of shattered and torn bodies. The flesh, once blackened by the curse, gradually regained its original color.

"Huff... huff..."

Breathing heavily, Ian lowered his sword and glanced back.

"...."

"...."

The two surviving guards stood frozen, staring at him in shock. Two of the merchants peeked out from the door, their expressions equally dumbfounded. It wasn’t surprising—they had just witnessed Ian cut through an entire horde of cursed ghouls like a human tank. His sword still gleamed white, and the Platinum Barrier pulsed with a soft golden glow.

With a faint sound, Ian retracted his shield and returned his pristine sword to his waist, stepping forward.

"You can stop praying now. The curse is retreating."

Whoosh.

At that moment, the holy barrier disintegrated into golden dust, scattering in the air. Philip collapsed, his hands hitting the floor as he coughed violently.

"Ugh... cough, cough... huff..."

Blood dripped from his visor, likely from overusing his divine powers. Holding back the overwhelming curse on his own hadn’t been easy.

Still, thanks to him, not a single merchant had died. Protecting them was Philip’s task, and he had performed it well.

"....!"

Ian’s gaze shifted to the two remaining guards, who immediately moved to help Philip at his nod. They quickly lifted him to his feet as he struggled to breathe. Ian glanced at the golden glow that still faintly shimmered in Philip’s eyes and smirked.

"What, is your magic armor just for show?"

"I still can\'t get used to them... haha. If you\'d been any later, I’d have passed out for sure," Philip replied, still panting heavily.

Ian nodded in acknowledgment, glancing toward the meeting room. The terrified merchants and a visibly pale Elia stood clustered together, their fear clear.

"Who... who really are you, Sir...?"

The Kurdian merchant stammered. He was one of the two peeking from the doorway.

Ian responded calmly.

"Stay where you are. The city guards will be here soon, and you’ll need to explain this mess. If you want to live, you’d better handle it properly."

"...!"

The merchants’ eyes widened as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was only natural—despite being in the outskirts, they were still within the city. Worse, they were in the lord’s villa, and the aftermath of the battle and curses had left the place in shambles. It was a situation that could easily cost them all their heads.

"If you’re thinking of backing out now, you’ll just get yourselves killed. Stick together, or you’ll all die. And I’ll be the first to suspect anyone who tries to flee."

Ian’s gaze swept over the merchants before settling on Fael.

"If I were you, I’d finish electing your representative."

"Ah... y-yes! Right! There’s no time to waste!" Fael stammered, nodding quickly.

The mustached merchant frowned. "Continue the meeting? Here? In the middle of all these bodies? These were our people!"

"Half of them survived, thanks to the foresight of the head of the Ark Caravan," the merchant with a nose ring added.

The other merchants, including the Kurdian, nodded in agreement and looked back at Fael.

"Let’s figure this out quickly. If we don’t want to die here, we need to stick together. He is right. We can figure out who’s behind the attack once we survive."

Ian turned his attention away from the merchants, his focus shifting to the two guards who were helping Philip.

"Keep them safe while I’m gone."

"And where... are you going, Sir?" the Northern guard asked.

Ian replied as he walked away, "There’s still a cockroach left to squash."

I need to bring back his head to finish this job.

In a hallway strewn with dismembered corpses, Ian marched forward without hesitation.

Though the fog had cleared, the stench of blood and death lingered in the air. He couldn’t help but internally curse his heightened sense of smell, which refused to dull even in these conditions.

The cursed traces were almost gone from the corpses, likely dissipating as the fog cleared. Unlike undead creations made through necromancy, these bodies bore no lasting evidence of the curse. Anyone unaware of the situation might assume these men had simply killed each other in a brutal fight.

Was that the intention from the start?

Either way, cleaning up this mess was the merchants’ responsibility now. If only the merchants had listened to Fael earlier, they could have prevented this entire disaster. Only the guards and workers of the Ark Caravan, who had been sent outside before the attack, remained unharmed. Given that Ian and Philip, Fael’s personal guards, had resolved the situation, there was little chance of any strange misunderstandings arising.

"...?" Ian paused, feeling someone grab his wrist.

It was Elia.

"You’re getting blood on your hands. Let go."

"Take me with you."

Ian furrowed his brow at her response. Elia, despite still looking pale, met his gaze with determination.

"I want to catch that dark mage who did this. Even with the aid of a spell circuit, casting magic on this scale would leave traces of magic. I might be able to find them."

"I\'m also able to spot someone hiding in a crowd. There’s no need to chase them through the sewers."

"The sewers lead to the river," interjected the Imperial guard who had followed her. At Ian’s gaze, the guard added, "This city’s underground waterways have long been used by smugglers and criminals. They use boats to transport goods—or people—near the drainage exits."

"I can also see through the underground," Elia quickly added.

... Well, I did plan to behead the dark mage in front of her.

After a moment, he unclasped the Della Lu\'s Grace from around his neck and handed it to her.

"When the fighting starts, stay back. Don’t get involved."

"I will."

Anyway, everyone sure knows how to give an answer.

Without another word, he scooped Elia into his arms. Her robes were now smeared with the same ichor and grime that covered him, but she didn’t seem to mind, wrapping her arms securely around his neck. She was heavier than she looked, though.

Carrying her while running might be a bit of a challenge.

With a quiet grumble to himself, Ian made his way down the stairs.

"... You were right, Godfather. I once believed that dark magic was just another branch of magic, a mere academic pursuit. I thought it was forbidden due to those who practiced it, not the magic itself," Elia murmured.

Ian glanced down at her as she continued, "I was wrong. Anyone who masters something like this would never stay sane. Even the most rational mind would eventually become unhinged."

Ian let out a low chuckle. "Yeah. Magic eats away at your mind. So does the Black Wall and the void. Just encountering them can corrupt your soul."

"You sound like someone who’s seen the void."

"...."

"Wait... have you actually seen it?" Elia asked, her eyes widening.

Ian clicked his tongue in frustration at her endless curiosity but met her gaze.

"But... from what I’ve heard, even glimpsing the void is..."

"It’s horrifying. If I hadn’t been lucky, I would’ve gone mad too. And if you try it out of curiosity, you’ll end up the same way."

"... Definitely. I don’t want to become a crazy dwarf who does this kind of thing." Elia muttered, glancing at the grim surroundings of the darkened hallway.

At least she’s learned something...

Thinking, Ian pushed open the manor’s front doors.

Swoosh.

The fog outside had almost completely dissipated, as if the malevolent darkness was finally retreating. It was still dark, though, with all the torches around the carriages snuffed out.

"...?" Ian’s attention shifted as he passed between the lined-up wagons.

Clop, clop, clop.

The sound of hooves and heavy breathing reached his ears. He turned his head in the sound\'s direction and blinked, slightly surprised.

"... Another miracle tonight."

A white horse, clad in silver armor, galloped across the garden toward him.