Chapter 53: You Don’t Have a Dick?!
Originally, reading manhwas, mangas, comics, or even novels, you can technically see the characters in real-time, but seeing it firsthand, right before my eyes, it’s absolutely impossible to follow.
The Duke, Leonhardt, and Philomeu are three blurs zipping around the hall, letting out whizzing sounds as they move through the air that are more annoying than a mosquito’s on the ear. It’s so crazy that the golems, the remaining Libertarians, and even the guards have given up fighting, knowing that in this chaos, what matters is that one of the big shots wins to define the course of this conflict.
I confess that when one person is worth at least an entire army, it really becomes redundant to use men to fight. I keep my distance, getting involved in this fight when even being run over by one of them is enough to break my bones appears to be a wise choice.
I finally get close to Moriah, she alone should protect both of us without me having to lift a finger... considering those claws are all bloody, maybe they even ripped out hearts in the middle of this macabre waltz.
Victorian also decides to take the opportunity to reposition himself. His body is covered in wounds, I doubt this big guy can hold off the golems much longer, but he did a good job.
"Do you have any potions? A tonic, anything?", I ask Moriah, still panting, with the heat of the battle reverberating through the floor.
She doesn’t look immediately. Her eyes remain fixed on the three blurs grappling in the center of the hall, causing colossal damage to the kingdom’s treasury with every swing of a sword and punch.
"I do, but they’re for me. They’ve been adapted to my metabolism and body’s functioning."
"So they don’t work on me?"
"They’re not lethal, but also not... reliable. They serve to improve my physique, enhance my cognitions and other things, so it’s dangerous for the common human body because our biological structure is very different. There’s a risk you might suffer a rebound effect after drinking one of them. My healing potions and other similar things aren’t here either, some of the guards were equipped with my products, but that’s not enough to face those... monsters."
I look around. Victorian is still dragging himself, trying to reach a column for support. This is problematic, especially when our two most powerful allies have now started alternating, with each one facing Philomeu separately.
Leonhardt’s armor has started to show cracks, while my father’s clothes are already so torn that he wouldn’t even be seen as a noble anymore. Damn, it’s not like we’re in a situation to demand anything now!