Chapter 86:

Chapter 86:

Chapter 86

Ruon approached the monster’s corpse without hesitation.

Its body, which still exuded a menacing aura despite its crushed head, was a gruesome sight of flesh and muscle fibers from an unknown creature.

The only part that he could guess with his naked eye was the scales that covered its skin, as Hella had mentioned. He couldn’t tell if they were really dragon scales, but it was obvious that they were no ordinary material, since they had effectively blocked his dagger, which was imbued with his full strength, several times.

He decided to settle for taking a few pieces.

He would have liked to peel off the whole skin cleanly, but it was impossible to separate the scales from the other tissues, since the body had been artificially modified.

He turned his head and looked at the hammer that was deeply embedded in the ground. The surface of the hammer, which had left a small crater from the impact, was emitting a faint light from the incomprehensible runes.

He grabbed the handle of the hammer without hesitation and swung it a few times in the air. As expected of someone who had handled many extraordinary weapons, he easily drew out the power within the hammer, and soon the surface of the hammer heated up and made a rumbling sound.

At that moment, Kyle, who had come out of a nearby building with a few boiled eggs in his hand, exclaimed in surprise.

“Wow, that startled me.”

Ruon looked at Kyle with a blank expression and snapped his fingers.

“Come here and try this.”

Kyle tilted his head at Ruon, who was grinning at the hammer.

“Why the hammer all of a sudden?”

He asked as he approached him and took the hammer that Ruon handed him. He didn’t seem to feel much burden from the weight that was transmitted to his palm, and Ruon smiled faintly.

“You’ve gotten pretty strong, huh?”

Kyle shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, thanks to the goddess’s blessing.”

“Good for you. You can use that hammer.”

“···What?”

Kyle’s voice was flat, as if he was giving up a coin he had picked up on the street.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Igor and Tarwen can’t swing it properly, and Strabo won’t need it when he turns into a beast. Besides, it doesn’t fit your height.”

“Why don’t you use it then?”

At that question, Ruon spread his fingers and pointed at the weapons he had on his body.

An ego sword, a thick-bladed dagger, and a bow without a string.

“You want me to add more? Sorry, but I’m not a weapon master.”

Kyle chuckled and retorted.

“It’s too cruel to ask someone who just got used to a sword to switch to a hammer.”

Ruon shook his head.

“I’m not telling you to switch weapons. I’m just saying that you should keep that hammer, since it might come in handy in future fights.”

“···Is this because you’re too lazy to use it, but too reluctant to throw it away?”

“Maybe.”

Ruon patted Kyle’s shoulder, who was staring at the hammer with a bewildered face, and walked past him to the building he had intended to go to.

He heard a crackling sound from behind him, as if he had already started practicing.

***

The group gathered in one place with their daily food. After a brief exchange of opinions, they decided to stay in a building at the corner of the village.

It was the only place that was relatively intact in the ruined village, and the only place that could accommodate the five of them.

Of course, it was disgusting to spend a day in a village where the blood and flesh of countless corpses were scattered on the floor, but no one complained for that reason.

The group devoted themselves to their respective tasks.

Ruon prepared firewood and bedding, and Tarwen and Igor cooked dinner together. They had been awkward with each other since they had a subtle nerve war over their souls, and they kept their mouths shut and watched each other’s eyes while making food. What are they doing, acting like kids?

Bang-Rumble!

Ruon, who had been silent with his arms crossed, slowly lifted his head and met Tarwen’s eyes.

“I’ve said it before, but I promise again,” Ruon said, his eyes flashing with the calm intensity of a storm.

“All the witches of the Cradle, except you, will perish.”

***

Leaning on the armrest connected to the chair, Fleur quietly opened her eyes, which had been closed.

Her red eyes, shining like rubies, were so intimidating that even the witches of the Cradle hesitated to meet her gaze directly. But the man before her showed no such apprehension. Or could he even be called a man?

Fleur opened her mouth amidst these thoughts.

“Excuse me, where were we?”

The man in the shabby cloak replied, “Did something unpleasant happen?”

Fleur shrugged.

“A talented witch died. Her arrogance was a flaw, but her skills were undeniable, and I was quite fond of her... It’s a sad thing.”

A low chuckle came from the shadows of the cloak.

“Sorrow? I didn’t know such a feeling still existed in an old witch like you.”

Fleur crossed her smooth legs and retorted.

“Of course. How could I not be sad? A being I was supposed to consume perished at the hands of someone else.”

The man tilted his head back and laughed heartily, causing the hood he wore to slide back and reveal his face.

Fleur, seeing the man’s face for the first time in a while, asked with a smirk.

“Why hide such a handsome face behind such a dreary mask?”

The man pulled the hood back over his head with his gauntleted hands. Then, his face hidden in the shadow of the hood, he spoke in a cool voice.

“We’ve strayed from the topic. So, what’s the plan for the ritual? We’ve already wasted a lot of time. The great churches have begun to sniff around. I can’t distract them forever.”

Fleur’s face lost its smile as she replied firmly.

“Don’t worry. The Cradle is ready. They will soon come here on their own and pay the price in blood.”

“Have you prepared, assuming they are the party that killed Beldusias?”

“Of course.”

The man stood up. The slight clinking of his armor cut through the silence as he said coldly.

“It’s time for the arrangement. Next time we meet, let it be as the archdemon Fleur.”

With that, his form crumbled like a sandcastle swept away by the tide and disappeared.

Fleur stared at the empty space where he had been, then pushed herself up from the armrest.

“Archdemon Fleur... That has a nice ring to it.”

The master of the Cradle’s tower smiled with a strange longing in her eyes as she burned with anticipation.

“I don’t understand why you hide your handsome face behind that dull mask.”

The man flipped his hood back over his head with his steel-gloved hands. Then he spoke in a cold voice, concealing his face in the shadow of the hood.

“You’re getting off track. What are you going to do with the ritual? We’re running out of time. The Grand Churches have started to smell something. We can’t divert their attention forever.”

Fleur also erased the smile that had spread over his face and replied curtly.

“Don’t worry. Yoram has already prepared everything. They’ll be here soon enough, on their own feet. And they’ll pay the price of blood.”

“You’ve prepared for the possibility that they’re the party that killed Belducius, right?”

“Of course.”

The man got up from his seat. His cold voice pierced through the faint clinking of his armor.

“It’s time to betray. Next time we meet, let’s meet as the Great Demon Fleur.”

Then his body crumbled and disappeared like a sandcastle swept by a wave. Fleur stared at the empty space where he had left, then pushed his bracelet aside and stood up.

“Great Demon Fleur... That sounds good.”

The tower master of Yoram, who had his long-cherished wish in front of him, smiled with a strange desire in his eyes.