Chapter 106 : Chapter 106
Chapter 106
A chilling scream that shook the soul.
At the sound emitted by a being tainted with corrupted divinity, everyone covered their ears and shrank back.
“A-aaaah……!”
The Blue Scale Descendants, paralyzed with fear, dropped their weapons without even realizing it.
Yet they had no leisure to concern themselves with such things.
They staggered, suffering, desperately wishing for this horror, this confusion, this terror to disappear.
Having lived long within this forest without ever leaving it—pure and orderly for generations—their clan suffered far more acutely from the scream of the corrupted soul.
The same was true for the spirits.
The spirits that had gathered as the wave of light began to waver one by one before scattering in panic, fleeing from the terror.
Each of them avoided that being.
To keep their souls from being stained by that filth, they fled far—very far—away.
“……Aquila Reschenhardt.”
Heinen’s face hardened as he gripped his weapon tightly.
Though the horrific scream made his soul tremble as if plunged into a river devoid of rest, he regained his composure by reciting a prayer.
The Sun God Raspalara was with him.
Moreover, it was not the first time he had encountered such an ominous existence.
But Aquila could not respond to Heinen’s call at once.
‘Why… why is that here, now……?’
Aquila was not gripped by fear, but by confusion.
Had not Fenrir appeared in the eastern region to replace the Demonic Dragon that had entered the event dungeon as the new boss monster?
Compared to the Demonic Dragon that had broken through the Egoril Mountain Range and unleashed its breath, Fenrir might have had less impact—but it was still a demonic beast.
It was a monster capable of carrying a major axis of the main scenario.
Granted, it had been two or three times larger and far more tenacious than he had known, requiring the combined efforts of everyone gathered here and the spirits to subjugate it—but still.
‘Originally, it was supposed to grow more ferocious after feeding on the mud of the Black Swamp. But what appeared here was not like that. Could that be the reason……?’
The commonality between the Demonic Dragon and Fenrir was that both had once come into contact with the mud of the Black Swamp.
But that had only strengthened them with corrupted divinity. It made little sense for a corrupted soul to tear its way out from within a demonic beast’s body.
Especially when there had been no sign whatsoever of anything connected to the Black Swamp while fighting Fenrir.
“Krrrk, grrrr…….”
Uttering a grotesque cry that no living creature of this world could possibly produce, the corrupted, nameless soul struggled to crawl out.
As though shedding its skin.
“Huff, huff……!”
Some screamed, others fell to the ground and scrambled backward.
Even at a glance, the corrupted soul’s appearance was horrific.
When Celsia Reschenhardt had consumed the mud and transformed into a monster, black liquid had streamed down her entire body, and she had possessed two enormous hands.
This soul was different.
Sliiide.
One head emerged, and what followed behind it was half of another head.
It appeared as though multiple heads had been kneaded together like dough and tangled into one mass.
Squelch…… trickle…….
Two hands continued to pry open Fenrir’s neck as the black form forced its way out, splitting flesh alongside Fenrir’s blood.
‘……With its name not properly revealed, I cannot even guess what it is.’
For example, the Corrupted Shadow of Ecstatic Delight was an early-stage corrupted soul—slow in movement but swift in close-range attacks.
With a simple and predictable attack pattern, it was not particularly difficult to fight, so long as one dodged properly.
Furrowing his brow, Aquila tightened his grip on the Spirit Tree Branch.
“As you saw last time, it is similar to that one. However, it will not be exactly the same—and it will likely be stronger.”
“……Do we only need to destroy the core inside its body?”
“Anything that looks like that can be brought down if you break the core. The stronger it is, the more cores it will have—and the harder they will be to reach…….”
Aquila wiped away the cold sweat that had formed and was about to continue explaining.
Sliiide…….
The half-emerged head pushed itself fully out.
Then it opened the eyes it had kept shut.
Brilliant crimson light flared and poured directly toward them.
The moment Aquila saw the gleaming red gaze, he shouted instinctively.
“……Something is coming!”
His prediction was perfectly correct.
One face twisted violently, as if boiling from within, and its mouth stretched open beyond belief.
Ah, ah, ah…….
A gaping hole.
From within it, a long arm sprouted, black veins bulging grotesquely along its surface.
“Damn it!”
“Danger—!”
Golden formulas flashed at Aquila’s fingertips as a defensive barrier formed, and at the same time Heinen raised his shield.
Golden radiance and a magical barrier.
Yet before either could fully manifest, the arm lashed out like a whip.
CRAAAACK!
“Urgh……!”
They had attempted to block it somehow, but the corrupted soul’s attack was immensely heavy and powerful.
CRASH!
The fragile barrier shattered, and unable to withstand the blow, both Heinen and Aquila were sent flying together.
“Ugh……!”
They smashed through already-broken trees and rolled several times.
Their hands and cheeks were scraped by stones, drawing blood, and grass and dust scattered into the air.
The impact of the shattered formula and the direct blow left Aquila unable to rise at once.
His head rang sharply from where it had struck the ground.
“Are you, huff, all right……?!”
Heinen rose first, having fallen more quickly due to the weight of his armor.
Staggering toward Aquila, he extended a hand.
A faint stream of Divine Power flowed from him, mending the shallow wounds on Aquila’s body.
‘That lunatic……!’
Still struggling to steady his head, Aquila cursed inwardly.
Since when did arms erupt from mouths?
He had witnessed countless varieties of corrupted souls before—so diverse in form, and each one equally horrific.
Grasping Heinen’s hand, Aquila forced himself to his feet.
“Each head may launch a different attack, huff.”
He shook his head to clear his vision.
The first thing he noticed was that a section of Heinen’s once-pristine, dazzling armor had been dented.
Heinen had shielded Aquila.
“We cannot allow more heads to emerge.”
Heinen nodded, steadying his breath.
“Yes. After attacking, it seems to quiet down…….”
But as Aquila turned his gaze, something caught his eye.
Heinen’s helmet was gone.
It must have been knocked off as they were sent sliding across the ground.
Thus, in this cycle, Aquila saw Heinen’s face for the first time.
He was younger than expected.
Perhaps only three or four years older than Astia Reschenhardt at most.
He had seemed so composed and dignified that Aquila had assumed him to be around thirty, but that assumption had been wrong.
More than anything, though his jaw was firm and resolute, he bore the features of a noble young man.
“……Are you unharmed, Young Master! Sir Heinen!”
At the voice from behind, Aquila tore his gaze away from Heinen’s face.
It was Porzelin.
Though she had suffered from the soul-wrenching scream, seeing them attacked had snapped her back to her senses.
Yet what Aquila noticed first was not Porzelin.
Slide…… trickle…….
Beneath the head that had closed its eyes again after attacking, another head was emerging—faster than before.
“……Move, Porzelin!”
Aquila shouted urgently, throwing both arms forward, while Heinen kicked off the ground in an instant.
Porzelin’s eyes widened at the shout, and she turned.
“Ah……?”
The third head had already pushed its way out as if retching.
It was one-eyed.
Its single pupil fixed on Porzelin.
And from that eye, black tears began to pour—
BOOOOM!
Before they could engulf Porzelin, something burst forth as though piercing through the dense forest and slammed straight into the corrupted soul’s body!
***
“Krrrgh, kheeek!”
The corrupted soul screamed again.
With three heads now emerged, the sound was even more resounding and horrifying.
Even Aquila reflexively covered his ears, and several of the Blue Scale Descendants fainted, unable to withstand it.
Yet even amid that chaos, Aquila saw clearly.
Through the rising smoke.
Something that had flown like a cannonball and struck the corrupted soul was already moving again.
Compared to that shadow, it was much smaller in form—but the movement was unmistakably familiar.
Lowering his hands, Aquila shouted.
“……Ark Batchel!”
Ark drove his blade straight into the single eye of the third head.
CRACK! SHATTER!
A sharp sound of rupture rang out.
“Ghk, ghraaak……!”
The third head went limp, and immediately the two heads already outside began to wail.
But Ark paid them no mind. Nor did he stop.
In a single leap, he landed atop one of the two hands prying open Fenrir’s neck.
THRUST!
CRACK, SHING!
Once more, the sound of a core splitting echoed.
In an instant, he had destroyed two cores.
And yet, the corrupted soul did not crumble. It remained blackened and intact.
‘Three cores already……?’
Aquila, running toward Porzelin, stared in shock.
He had known it would not be an early-stage entity—but how could a creature with three or more cores appear already in Chapter Two’s emergency quest?
Ark’s gaze flicked between the corrupted soul’s body and Fenrir’s corpse.
Then he raised his blade high.
He swung his arm down with full force.
A single strike imbued with aura.
But its result was extraordinary.
SHRRK!
Fenrir’s tough hide split cleanly in half.
The efforts of everyone present to carve even shallow wounds now seemed almost futile.
“That is… a Sword Master…….”
Porzelin murmured as she beheld the blade.
One who had tempered their soul countless times, broken through its confines, and reached transcendence.
A pure and exalted state.
That was a Sword Master.
“Ggh, ghk, kheeek……!”
From within the body Ark had split apart, swollen faces surged upward.
They rejoiced.
They no longer needed to struggle to emerge.
To the eye, it seemed as though Ark had stripped away the corrupted soul’s outer shell for it.
But his reason was obvious.
The final head.
The lowest one—largest of all—its mass drooping like loose dough, everything sagging and melting into chaos.
The last core lay within it.
“Ah, ah, ah……!”
The corrupted soul’s crimson eyes darted wildly, all turning toward Ark.
The heads, drunk with joy, decided to bestow a gift upon their savior.
Each face would unleash a different attack—upon a single person.
WHOOSH!
But Ark was merciless.
He evaded and cut through everything as he descended along the heads.
His blade did not wait for the corrupted soul to unwrap its gifts.
Swiftly, it thrust toward the mouth of the final head.
And then—
CRRRAAACK! SHING!
At last, the final core shattered with a blazing, explosive crack.
“Monster…….”
It broke apart in black fragments.
The corrupted soul shattered into small, dark pieces and fell.
Heinen, who had already arrived, Aquila catching his breath, and Porzelin standing stunned.
The three of them watched as Ark landed lightly on the ground, stepping over the small fragments.
His long, unkempt black hair remained as before.
The difference from last time was the monocle fitted over his remaining eye.
Eye That Sees the Hidden.
The magic tool Ark had seized in Portplum.
“State your identity. Judging by your skill, you are a Sword Master, but who—!”
Heinen stepped forward, frowning, attempting to speak.
FWOOM!
Without warning, a massive fireball materialized and engulfed Ark.
BOOM!
Startled, Heinen turned to the side.
The one who had cast the spell.
It was—naturally—
Aquila Reschenhardt.