Chapter 41: Poison Bog

Chapter 41: Poison Bog

“Ah-...Ruinhilde-sama”

“Mine devotee, Momokawa Kotarou. It doth be slight, but I see thou hast bolstered thine powers of the Shaman”

“T-thank... you...”

Before I noticed, I was once more standing accompanied by grim reaper-looking God of Curse.

I had decided to nap a bit before we headed out, so I guess I’m being summoned to this wonderful God area in that span. Seriously, I just can’t get used to this. I was let off without any pain last time, but you never know when that’ll change. Like really, isn’t there a better a better way to do this?

“Strength of emotion, of hope, that doth be what feeds and nurtures thine curse. Howe’er, with solely emotions, meaning found ist not”

“Erm... As in, the results will be botched if I don’t actually defeat monsters and show concrete progress, something like that, right?”

“Indeed”

As if satisfied with that reply, the bizarre skull-only head nods in approval.

Well, it is logical to think that the experience points won’t enter unless you actually kill something. Stuff like getting all pumped up in a fight with a big boss like, “I’ll never lose to you! UoOOOo!!”, and then, miraculously getting a new power, finally to end with an epic victory; that kind of thing is only acceptable in cheap RPG scenarios with half-assed cut scenes.

In other words, no matter how much I long for some attack moves, I’ll be getting zilch if I can’t show the results God is satisfied with. But what if, there’s no offensive curses in the first place. Just accept it and take up a sword or something. What if that kind of heartless reality is awaiting me?

No way that’s right, right? Ruinhilde-sama’s curses have attack oriented skills right?

“Very well, let us grant it, this power to injure another, thou so wishes for”

“Eh, you’re kidding!?”

No wait, right then, wasn’t he legit reading my mind? Don’t tell me, all those monologues are being transmitted to you? M-my apologies, I know my thoughts may seem incredibly rude sometimes, but please, these things aren’t in my control!

“All is fine. Thou hast earned, shown results enough, to garner this curse. It is simply that”

“Whoaa, t-thank you very much!”

Being straight-cut praised makes me kinda, really happy. I’m not what you call the getting praised type. My parents are also pretty laissez-faire, not going around congratulating their kid for any and all things, and due to that kind of home education, not being praised is my norm. My thought pattern works with the motto: it’s fine as long as they’re not mad.

To sum up, I’m just not used to praise. Too much pampering and I’ll get cocky, I kind of worry if that could happen.

“Uhm, but I don’t remember doing very much in the last boss fight so... is it really alright?”

“The curse’s might, relateth to the depth of one’s own karma. Those that resent with misguided hate simply cannot fathom the abyss that is the curse”

If I’m getting this right, he must be talking about how I didn’t begrudge Hirano-kun and Nishiyama-san. Someone who gets all boiled up, and starts raging towards people for any little thing won’t be competent as a Shaman, is what he’s saying.

But then, what’s supposed to be the right timing I need to be angry at? In any case, I don’t feel anything other than wanting absolute revenge against Higuchi though.

“A great curse, cometh at the end of great composure and spirit— Now, Momokawa Kotarou, presenteth thine hands”

“Y-yes...”

Ah, I guess it’s time. Time for getting a new curse. Will it hurt? It won’t right? My thoughts were increasingly getting concentrated on that question rather than what offensive type curse I’d be getting.

“Know that a Shaman is solely in spirit not, but as well in flesh, he is curse. Now bear that sigil of curse”

Taking my out-stretched right hand, on the back of it, Ruinhilde-sama’s chalk-white, knife-like, bone finger stabb—

“GyaaaAAAAAAAAAAaa!!”

He cut me! He’s really cutting, no, he’s gouging at it!?

God’s fingertip was mercilessly scraping against the insides, the meat in my hand, making the wound a larger hole.

“That indeed is, the very first step to becoming a Shaman”

Ahh, fuck, it was pain this time huh!

Ruinhilde-sama’s important words went in my right ear, and out my left. Screaming to throat-shattering levels, I fell unconscious at some point doing God’s trial, and somehow escaped that hell.

“...Guess, we should get going”

“Sure!”

After replenishing in herb, and finishing the laundry + repair of our clothing, we re-entered the old dungeon. Futaba-san looks cheerful and at ease, but I just finished up a nightmarish level up ritual so I can’t really say the same for myself.

But I can’t go showing off too much of a pitiful state. I’ll try not to.

“This area seems, kinda like the first one?”

“Yes, but... it’s somehow dark, gives off a bad aura too”

We’ve been walking on a stone passage and weren’t seeing where it ended. There’s the usual light panels spotted around on the ceiling, and to me, it looked dark as ever... But Futaba-san said “a bad aura”, so there has to be something. Well, it’s not like she has any Berserker skills like enhanced instincts or a sixth sense of something.

“Gotta be careful then, there could be traps”

I gently raise my right arm, and properly recite the aria.

“On trials not of will. On fate not of honor. On destiny of such aversion, I will carve my own path — Black Bloodline”

A pattern that looked as if painted in fresh blood appeared on the back of my outstretched right hand. A magic circle, or rather, it looked more like a big eye. This is probably what Ruinhilde-sama was grinding away at with his sharp finger on the insides of my hand, a genuine crest of God. No, I guess it’s a curse in this case.

This mark of curse also extended to my palm. On this side, its was a simple X-mark. As I turned my palm and it faced the ground, a single drop of blood fell from the x-mark.

With that, the prep-work for the curse is done.

“Putrefy, in the depths of vile red— Rotten Bog[2]”

One drop of Black Bloodline descended from my hand. And the moment that single bead of blood stained the ground, it spread out along with vigorous bubbling. Looked as if, the ground itself was bleeding out.

This is in fact, just how my first offensive curse, the Rotten Bog, is supposed to work. With my blood as the epicenter, a poisonous pool, similar to Hell’s lake of fire, is created. It has a certain range, and a somewhat arbitrary shape and radius. The width and toxicity seems to be determined by the density and amount of my blood used. Incidentally, my blood isn’t currently that of a normal human being, but has a kind of special attribution.

Black Bloodline Blood that may be blessing or curse. No matter one’s lineage, the fact that blood is an essence of life is absolute. Body, curse, magic, faith— its effect manifests in a myriad of matters.[3]

That’s about it for the description in my head for Black Bloodline. Kinda like, it says bloodline, and I don’t really have any special origin story, but this curse will help out with some stuff, is the feeling.

Just letting it out there, I have a pair of completely normal, Japanese parents living in an ordinary Japanese household, no impressive ancestry whatsoever. Nothing like, in fact, the Momokawa house has been handing down this special technique for generations, or any of that bs.

But it’s clear that with this Black Bloodline, my blood has the ability to strengthen the Rotten Bog. It’s just a gut feeling, but if I used plain old blood to make the bog, I have a feeling I wouldn’t get something this big or toxic.

Which means, this is a lucky combination of skills I got as a result of piling on experience as a Shaman.

“Yeah Futaba-san, get back a bit more!”

The dark crimson pool of blood kept expanding in the passage. It gained a radius of 2 meters right in front of me. More that big enough to catch a dumb Zombie running in a straight line.

Futaba-san and I stand a bit away from the Rotten Bog so we can counter it in case it tries passing over with a big jump, and we wait for the rushing Zombie.

“BuoOOAAAAAA!!”

With a mad shriek, the Zombie steps foot into the swamp of deadly poison—

Rotten Bog In but a single step, the meat melts off, rotting into the toxic liquid.[4]

That description being right on the money, starting from its first step inside, sizzling sounds came from the Zombie’s feet as parts began melting off.

“Buah! GhoOOAAAAA!!”

And then it fell down. Since the soles of its feet melted, it slipped smoothly, and splashed into the ground with the full momentum of its previous rush. With no defenses of speak of, the Zombie flopped head first into the poison bog.

It was a scene you could maybe find in those gag prank shows on TV, falling down with a dumb expression and the works, but me and Futaba-san couldn’t really point and laugh at the end result.

“Urk, Uaaah...”

Seeing that kind of gruesome melting damage from my own curse, I inadvertently let out a voice of aversion.

Getting its body smeared in the poison, or more like, in the potent acid-like liquid, a loud fizz released from all over the Zombie along with smoke tinged in red.

Writhing in agony, the Zombie attempted to get up... only to find its hand on the ground had gone. Then I saw its wrist had just plopped off, then came its elbow, then the knee.

“Oo...AAa...”

Losing any and all limbs to struggle with, what remained was only the pitifully frothing head and trunk. And in no time, the head crumbled away, lastly leaving the Zombie’s lone back, slowly descending into the acid. Its everything returning to nothing.

“Oh... I did it”

“You did it! That’s great Momokawa-kun, you beat the Zombie by yourself!”

As I was reflecting on whether this kind of win was truly valid, Futaba-san raised her voice in explosive cheers.

Reading the description, I knew it’d end this way. I knew, but looking at the enemy dying so gruesomely... I can’t really feel like jumping in joy. Hoping for something a bit cooler in terms of killing, is probably too much to ask for.

Aaaanyway, this marks my first real victory since becoming a Shaman. It wasn’t a series of lucky events like with the Armor Bear, nor was it getting saved by Futaba-san like in the Goma trap incident. It was simply, purely me achieving a win with my powers as a Shaman. One mere Zombie. But a Zombie nonetheless.

So I’ll own it. No matter how awful, how grotesque it looks, a win is a win.

“E-ehehe... Thanks”

With somewhat of a weird laugh and awkward bashful expression, I cheer for me as well along with the brightly smiling Futaba-san for my first ever victory.

________________________

[1]Said in fluent Tsundere-speak.

[2] 腐り沼 — Kusari Numa — Rotten Bog

[3] 黒の血脈 — Kuro no Kechimyaku — Black Bloodline (repeating from ch29)... it’s like a sharingan?

[4] 腐り沼 — Kusari Numa — Rotten Bog... it’s like a portal, but there’s no other side