Published at 12th of February 2023 7:02 pm

Chapter 349 Peerless Killing Ability

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Just like that, the deed was done; nothing more than flexing a muscle for the Godless Style user that had killed more times than a single man’s memory could remember.

‘I imagine they could put up a fight–if they knew there was a fight to be fought,’ he thought.

Wiping the blood from his blades, he silently moved up the stone ramp up throughout the cave of the wild demi-humans. He kept himself clinging close to the wall, sinking into the shadows as he reached what looked to be the main space of the cave as he immediately found himself looking upon a nest of the lion-resembling beast men.

‘…Four, five, sex…Alright, I’ll make it quick then find the others,’ he thought.

What was on his mind was the location and status of the companions he had been separated from; of course the possibility of the beast men already getting their hands on them was a distinct possibility in his mind, but he doubted it.

‘Emilio is too strong; Asher is just as capable; Joel has experience; Blimpo is resourceful. Besides, they kept me captured for some reason–I’m the only one they found, most likely,’ he deduced.

He could see the exit to the cave back into the checkered forest; it would be easy enough to slip by and flee from the beast men, though that wasn’t much of an option in Vandread’s mind. That pragmatic mind of his instead rested on a different approach entirely: leaving no possibilities of retaliation from the enemy and not risking another attack from them.

Using the essence of the unknown to his advantage, he stuck to the shadows as he moved along the wall, scoping out his targets; the beast men were sitting around, mainly waiting around a campfire, hardly talking except for a few, rough words that couldn’t be understood.

‘I’ll take care of that big one first–the one missing an eye; he’s likely their “alpha”–if that applies to a group like this,’ he planned.

The one in question was built burly, clad in muscle and scars with fur turned black likely from a mixture of old blood and grime.

A precious resource, his blades were; at times like this, the Godless Style’s teachings came into play at fully as he found one of the roughly-made spears of sharpened wood and tied flint at the end, lifting it up before throwing it in the direction of the “alpha” beast man.

With precision like that of an Olympian athlete, the long projectile pierced straight through the sole eye of the demi-human savage, stabbing through with a gut-wrenching squelch before blowing through the back of its skull.

“Gragh?!”

“Raga!”

“Ruuu–!”

Of course, the sudden attack and defeat of the massive alpha caused the others to immediately jump to their feet, looking around in a panic, though none caught sight of the elusive man.

‘How rotten have these beasts become? There isn’t even a trace of humanity left in them–only relying on their eyes, not even using that animalistic sense of smell of theirs,’ he thought.

Using the shadows to maneuver around the room, he dashed by a pair of the fur-clad warriors, instantly splitting open their necks with ruthless slashes. Crimson fluid painted the walls of the damp cave, causing further panic between the warriors as the swift human sank back into the shadows before any could even catch sight of him.

“Ragh!” A beast man let out, spinning side-to-side with his ragged sword pointing at nothing.

“G-gu-gu!” Another panicked.

A small pebble landed on the ground, causing the pair of bestial warriors to jump in desperation, attacking the source of the tiny sound, only to find it was indeed an insignificant rock.

–A distraction; simple but effective.

Appearing behind the deceived savages, Vandread plunged both of his daggers into the sides of each of the beast’s skulls, piercing their brains and turning his blades to finish any chance of survival.

Just as he withdrew his weapons from their skulls, allowing their limp bodies to fall down, his expression remained straight as an attack came from behind. He ducked down seamlessly as the wild slash missed entirely, allowing him to spin around while crouched, dragging his blade along the savage demi-humans gut.

SQUELCH

A spray of high-pressure blood released as the entrails of the golden-furred beast spilled out from the ruthless disemboweling, though the savage didn’t even get time to have a proper death as Vandread grabbed the figure, pulling them over and using them as a meatshield just as an unaccounted for target slammed their weapon down.

A disgusting squelch echoed as the disemboweled beast was crushed–completely flattened like a fleshy pancake against the cave’s floor by a heavy, unrefined club wielded by an even larger foe.

“Hm,” Vandread squinted.

,m

Standing before having, lifting the club larger than the man himself that was stained with chunks of meat from its own kin it had crushed, was a demi-human lion that towered well over four meters high, built like a gorilla.

The true alpha salivated like a rabid beast, resembling more of a true lion–a “King of the Jungle” than the other, lesser kin that had fallen as it possessed a prominent mane of blood-stained, black fur.

Just as it unleashed a roar that rumbled the stone beneath his boots, he pivoted off of his right foot as a swift slam of the massive club came from above, surprising him at the speed the behemoth could attack.

‘It’s a similar class to the “Champion” of the Outriders I encountered before. A demi-human who has completely abandoned their human side; I wonder if one could call it progression or regression–all of that raw strength in exchange for any sense,’ he thought.

There was no doubt that this was an enemy he had to defeat here and now; whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had a protective urge over the young Dragonheart, one that refused to let him leave such a brutal enemy be.

Still, he no longer had the Undying Blood to aid him, solely focusing on his own elusive footwork as he danced around the swift, lethal slams of the lion champion.

“I wonder if you’d happen to know anything about this ‘King of Spades’ figure–willing to talk?” Vandread asked amidst his evasions.

Weaving through the repeated club slams which shattered the stone beneath, Vandread fluidly evaded each attack, only attacking once no response came from the alpha as he countered with a swift movement of his dagger.

It hardly looked like contact was made, yet a deep evisceration etched itself into the burly, human-sized forearm of the great maned champion.

“Nnrgh–!” The massive alpha growled in pain.

There didn’t seem to be any rustyness left from the transition from life to death; Vandread felt perhaps his skills were even sharpened by the situation, untethered to any holds of the mortal coil as he easily evaded the wounded alpha’s swings and responded with slashes of his own.

With a quick sidestep of an overhead slam, he dashed by the gargantuan lion-man, unleashing an arc slash that targeted the tendon behind the beast’s elbow, disabling his arm’s movement.

“–I know you have some sentience. Spill what you know about the ‘King of Spades’–or I’ll show you there are things more painful than disembowelment,” Vandread threatened.

Unbeknownst to the silver-eyed, pragmatic fighter, something was off–a development occurred that could not be predicted or witnessed.

As the bloody, maned colossus stood there, covered in gashes and leaking blood, a silhouette appeared–a presence shown only to the alpha; a checkered man brought his lips close to the ear of the seemingly defeated beast man.

“It is your duty, my diligent subject; defeat the man before you then bring me the head of the Dragonheart–that’s an order, from your king,” the man spoke in a voice as soft as lavender, yet commanding such power, “This is the will of the Primordials.”

Suddenly, Vandread felt himself witnessing a spontaneous transformation of the bipedal lion man, whose bloodied body flexed; muscles bulged and veins expanded as the complexion of the golden-skinned champion morphed. Black-and-white; absence of color and only possessing those two, opposing shades, the champion became checkered, looking down on the scarred man with one sable eye, and one of a pure-white.

“Hm,” Vandread grunted.

–Before his eyes, happening before he could so much as raise one of his daggers, the checkered champion vanished before him; it wasn’t some illusion of trick of the eye–it simply moved with such speed he found his reflexes dumbfounded in that split-second.

“–!”

Unable to guard himself in time, Vandread found the club slamming into his stomach, causing the spikes to dig into his flesh before he was flung back with a force that left him spinning through the air, slamming into the back of the dank cavern.

“Ghhh…” Vandread laid there in the shattered stone as dust and pebbles crumbled over his head, leaving him coughing up blood.

‘Shit…It got me good. It’s been a long time since a blow like that actually had enough time to hurt,’ he thought.

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