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Dungeon of the Abyss

Linking the First Flame was not the end. The Chosen Undead finds himself in a forest in the world of Danmachi after sacrificing himself and fuelling the first flame for an unspeakable amount of time. What will he do now that he's freed from the chains of the fate of the undead?

mchicken_3496 · อะนิเมะ&มังงะ
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11 Chs

Chapter 3: The Naked Goblin Slayer

"Attention all green creatures in the area!" My voice reverberated through the village, garnering the attention of every living creature. I don't think I've ever yelled this loud on purpose.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, I must ask you to stop terrorising this village."

Their assault ground to a halt as they processed what had just occurred. Even the villagers stared in disbelief. They must have been thinking, 'What sort of moron attracts our attention in this situation?'

Everyone turned towards the source of the stupidity, me.

"Grah!"

One creature pounced towards me with its dagger aimed at my heart. It possessed an expression of rage that cemented itself on its face. Good, my plan had worked. Yelling is a universal sign of aggression which the creatures took in kind.

I sidestepped the telegraphed attempt on my life and bisected it in half, earning myself some more souls.

"Who's next?"

Not a single creature moved. After seeing how easily one of their own had been cut down, nobody wanted to be next. So I took the initiative.

One by one, my blade sliced through them. This provided them two options similar to my ones from before, fight or flight, and they chose to fight. The creatures focused now their efforts on me and charged all at once, thus marking the beginning of the actual fight.

A dozen kills in. fatigue, which had been accumulating for hours, set in.

I overestimated just how much energy I had in my human form. Beads of sweat covered the surface of my body while patches of blood caked my skin. I coughed with every breath of air tainted with smoke and my arms felt like sandbags from their constant usage.

As an undead, I could fight endlessly until I died. That was no longer the case. With each swing, I grew more tired. My body failed to keep up with the commands of my mind.

Also, what I had failed to mention was that as an undead, you gain a problematic lack of regard for your own life. After all, you couldn't really die, you'd just be sent back to the nearest bonfire with an increased urge to hollow.

Even now I'm stuck with that mindset and it has severely fucked me over when it comes to rational decision making and has led me to this situation.

My head swivelled around in search of a solution to this plight I had found myself in and stopped when I saw a lone man fighting off a group of his own. He appeared to be struggling more than me. Cuts riddled his body, and he was holding on by the string of a thread.

"Two is better than one."

I evaded another swing of a dagger and sprinted towards the man. As soon as I was next to him, I clenched my weapon with both hands and performed a large swing to eliminate the creature after him.

His face went white when he saw how a creature about to stab him was cleaved in half.

"Help me fight," I asked.

"But-"

"You won't make it far with those injuries, you've already lost a lot of blood and I don't see any Estus around here to heal you. Do you want to die as a coward while fleeing in a forest or would you rather fight back and possibly become a hero?"

I had stated my offer. It was now up to him to decide.

"You must be an adventurer if you can fight those things." His voice trembled "Fine."

The man stood beside me with renewed vigour. The notion of me being an 'adventurer' must have spurred his spirit, even if his hands were shaking in fear.

The battle resumed.

My new partner lightened the load I had to deal with. Or so I thought.

Slicing one more creature, I realised we had drawn all the creatures in the village to us, which allowed anyone else who was still alive to flee from the chaos. Still, the two of us couldn't run, for if we did, the creatures hunt everyone else down. We had to end this here and now, and I had an idea of how to do it.

"Hey you, distract them for a few seconds."

"What?"

I ignored him, stepping away from the combat and taking this time to focus on myself.

Fire. Throughout my entire journey in Lordran, everything was related to it in one way or another.

Even I possessed my own fire, my flame of pyromancy. I've had it since the undead asylum, a part of me from my shrouded past. The two of us share a bit of an abusive relationship. On one hand, I always made use of it to the best of its abilities while on the other I feared it lest it devoured me as my teacher had warned.

Now in my time of need will it heed my call like it used to?

I raised my left hand, which usually had a shield on it and made it impossible to cast spells. Then I focused on my palm and imagined fire, that's right, a fire which I used to fight a god with. A fire that I consider a part of myself.

Almost as if was saying 'very well' to my request, embers erupted in my hand and the familiar phenomenon of my pyromancy flame was kindled once more.

The sudden appearance of a flame being controlled by one of their foes startled them. I used this as an opportunity to send a volley of fireballs which seared anyone unfortunate to be hit by it but didn't fully eliminate them.

Just like me, my flame had weakened considerably.

Nevertheless, I continued casting pyromancy arts. Whips of raging inferno swept through their numbers, leaving them in an immobile state. Even the man who I had helped stopped and stared at me, eyes sparkling with awe.

Just like that, an entire raiding force of creatures was wiped out in less than twenty minutes.

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"And that's the last one," I said, removing my blade from the body of the last creature.

The guy I had helped had already collapsed and was unconscious. He'll most likely die from his wounds, a sad yet normal experience for me. Perhaps if I had my talisman, I could have healed him with one of my miracles.

I didn't accumulate many souls from this entire ordeal. The creatures the man called "Goblins" weren't too strong by themselves and only caused damage in numbers. Something my pyromancy negated.

The moon was now visible over the horizon, and an abrupt downpour of rain had extinguished the fire that destroyed most of the village. It was now a misty wasteland of ash devoid of any life. The image of the land surrounding the kiln flashed before my eyes for a moment.

My eyelids were heavy. The fierce rush I felt went I reunited with my flame had come crashing down. My entire body ached, bones creaking and muscles burning from the strain.

"Shit."

I failed to step over a blackened piece of wood and tripped, landing on a charcoal skeleton that disintegrated beneath my weight.

"I guess it's... time to sleep?"

Galloping was the last thing I heard before falling into a deep slumber.