The Corpse Queen (5)

…Boom!

The world crumbled into blackness.

Vikir stepped back, feeling his entire body turning into mud.

Thick blood and bits of guts leak from his mouth. His vision blurred and his body refused to respond.

Vikir drew upon the power of his magic sword, Beelzebub, to restore himself.

Tsutsutsutsuts-

Though it took a great deal of stamina and mana, Vikir was able to reattach broken bones and repair torn muscles.

However, he was unable to regenerate the numerous wounds across his body, as most of his strength was spent repairing his core skeleton, guts, muscles, and severed organs.

Vikir thought as he touched his bloodied body, the mask barely covering his face.

'I'll never make it back to the Academy in this condition.'

Tudor, Sancho, and Piggy would be horrified if they saw him now.

Then.

[hack-hack-hack-]

There was a presence clinging to his left wrist.

Madame cub. The little guy had returned.

" ...Thank you. You saved my life."

Vikir stroked the cub's head.

Just before the clash with the Corpse Queen, there was a thread that grabbed the back of Vikir's neck as he was caught in the explosion.

A thread that the cub had secretly attached to the back of Vikir's head. A sturdy lifeline that had survived the maelstrom of mana without breaking.

It was connected to a rock behind it.

The cub tugged Vikir onto that rock, and it was only because of it that Vikir narrowly escaped the explosion.

If not for the thread, he would have been mortally wounded, unable to regenerate even with the power of Beelzebub.

Meanwhile.

Passtssss...

The Lich of Ahheman and the Ragged Golem crumbled to dust and vanished.

And behind them, the Corpse Queen stood tall.

...But then.

Thump!

The corpse queen dropped to one knee.

She was motionless, probably stunned by the shock of the mana backflowing into her body.

" ...Since you're half-demon, half-human, the effects of the mana backflow must be even greater."

Vikir stared at the corpse queen.

He remembered her last, fleeting words, just before the confrontation.

'... Now, wait a minute!'

Why did the Corpse Queen lose focus at such a crucial moment?

Thanks to her distraction, Vikir was able to shatter the Black Sun, a mana concentration in the negative dimension, with his seven teeth.

Although it was only half, the power of the Eight Corpse was strong. As time passes, it will become stronger.

"...Must be killed here and now."

I don't know why the Corpse Queen takes her power at the end, but that's not what matters now.

The Corpse Queen lay defenseless, the eighth corpse, Seere. I had to kill her now.

Jeopuk- Jeopuk- Jeopuk-

Vikir walked forward with the magic sword Beelzebub hanging down.

Blood oozed from his ragged body, making long snail-like tracks on the floor.

Then.

[... Don't.]

The corpse queen's mouth opened.

Her head drooped like a condemned man about to be hanged, her skull mask already shattered, her face invisible.

But her lips were definitely moist.

[...Don't leave me].

A muffled, disheveled tone. Then a faint noise. It was a sob.

Apparently, the Corpse Queen had a story.

But.

"There is no grave in the world without a story."

Vikir's grip on his sword tightened.

Who among the undead didn't have some sort of excuse, or story to tell.

Vikir didn't care what kind of life the woman in front of him had lived before becoming the Corpse Queen, or what kind of story she had to tell.

For he had a greater mission than all of that.

To avenge his own fleeting death, that of his comrades-in-arms, and that of humanity as a whole.

To stop the age of destruction.

That's what brought the Night Hound back to his feet after his fall.

And with that, Vikir stood before the Corpse Queen.

"...."

The corpse queen shook her head, unmoving. She fainted and let out an unconscious sob.

Then Vikir lifted Beelzebub high into the air.

The sword, sharp as a guillotine preparing to fall, will soon separate the Eight Corpse from her neck and body.

This is the moment when the third demon is hunted.

And now.

Pow!

The sword fell.

Thus, a total of three of the Ten Demons are killed. The age of destruction is pushed back. A fitting tribute to the many comrades who died in the blink of an eye.

But. Things don't always go according to plan.

Clang!

There was a presence blocking the magic sword Beelzebub.

"...Geronto!"

Vikir's brow furrowed.

A metal skewer blocking a dark red sword.

The mage who had gone by the name of Morg Rose in the past had become a lich and was blocking Vikir.

Clang!

The skewer broke, but it managed to deflect Beelzebub.

Vikir staggered backward.

Now, Geronto's dark mana began to spew out flames and metal skewers everywhere.

Vikir adjusted his mask, thinking.

"Dantalian's minions... are a pain in the ass."

At this point, he was stuck.

He'd seen Geronto's power before. He was no match for her, especially in his current state of exhaustion from fighting the Corpse Queen.

Vikir took a few steps back, creating distance. Every inch was good, and he needed to give his body time to recover.

What?

Surprisingly, Geronto didn't pursue Vikir.

Instead, she politely picked up the corpse queen who had fallen behind her.

"...?"

Vikir shook his head.

By nature, the undead, the dead, are jealous of what they don't have.

That's why they blindly bite and rob the living.

The same is true for the raised undead

Their first priority is to attack the nearest living being rather than defend their master, which is fine as long as the master is strong-willed, but once the master is unconscious, the undead are out of control.

But what about now?

Geronto holds the Corpse Queen close to his heart.

It hasn't even bothered to attack Vikir, who is now in a state of exhaustion.

'What? No way....'

It's one of two things. Either Geronto is not a normal undead, or the Corpse Queen's spirit remains strong on this battlefield.

'Maybe both.'

Geronto is undead, so it's safe to assume that the Corpse Queen's mind is still roaming the battlefield, controlling Geronto.

The idea is.

'Do not attack the author.'

It's a will to avoid fighting Vikir.

In the final confrontation, and now in Geronto's case, the Corpse Queen seemed to have no intention of fighting Vikir.

'What the hell, how could you....'

Vikir frowned.

The mysterious woman who had become the Corpse Queen in place of Morg Snake. As a Demon Contractor, why was she acting so strangely?

His vision blurring, his breath quickening, Vikir tried to gather his thoughts, but he couldn't focus.

And then, taking advantage of the gap, Geronto drew a circle of magic.

Pow!

It was a teleportation magic circle.

A blue light burst forth, teleporting Geronto and the sleeping Corpse Queen in her arms.

"Chet-"

Vikir drew his black bow, Anubis, and fired an arrow, but Geronto's teleportation was half as fast.

Flash!

In the blink of an eye, the two women disappeared in front of Vikir.

"Did I miss ...?"

Vikir sighed and leaned back against the molten steel.

It was the usual: a surprise when you weren't ready. The future unexpectedly changed. These variables had caused me to lose sight of my goal.

For the first time, I failed in my assassination.

"Afterthought. Still, I knew I had a chance against the Eighth Demon. He's still a weak demon."

Vikir muttered to himself as he patted the hatchling that was spewing threads into his arm to form a cast.

Suddenly, there was a commotion around him.

…Flash!

Torches and mana lights were lighting up the area.

As you turn your head toward the low ground below, you see guards approaching at full alert, having heard the commotion.

I also hear a familiar voice.

"Hohoho- this way! It must be the Night Hound! Come on, pigs, follow me!"

One eye, high heels, and a thorn whip wrapped around a slim waist.

The Imperial Guard, led by Professor Sady, was rushing toward them.

"...You've become a nuisance."

Vikir melted into the darkness, his body covered in tattered black cloth.

With Mushu Hushu's ability to glide through the darkness without making a sound, it wasn't hard for Vikir to escape the encirclement.

Taking the cub's thread, Vikir ascended to the heights of the ruins, crossing the void in an instant to reach the skyscrapers outside of the encirclement.

… Tuck!

Reaching the ground below the building, Vikir looked back at the ruins in the distance and smiled bitterly.

"I don't know what I'm going to tell the kids about this."

Just like back in Dantalisan, his body would be wracked with the after-effects and fatigue for some time.

Midterms are over and the festival season is upon us, so I could use a break.

It's also a good idea to check yourself into the nurse's office with the excuse of overwork.

'Three days, in which to recover, and then we'll go in search of the Eight Corpse.'

Vikir adjusted his Picaresque mask as he thought.

And then.

Vikir's body transformed.

hack-hack-hack

An exhausted-looking black puppy with severe wounds all over its body trotted toward the Academy.