Chapter 150: Chapter 150

I deflected five bombs with my wide blade all at once. They exploded in quick succession over the thick brush around us. However, the group moved swiftly. Aside from a few catching fire on their clothes, no one looked seriously injured.

As if triggered by the whistle, dozens of poisoned darts flew in from all directions.

The air froze across a space wider than my blade, and the darts fell uselessly short. Rena, wearing a gas mask, practically emptied her bag as she hurled bombs in every direction.

Those who leaped to avoid the bombs were then met with a flurry of arrows.

Around five assassins coughed violently from the gas or were grazed by arrows. Nevertheless, the remaining enemies didn't even flinch. They calmly pulled out their main weapons—massive, grotesque throwing stars large enough to tear through flesh, bone, and even metal.

We barely broke through the second and third encirclements. More than half of my armor had been blown away, and some ribs were broken from weapons that had made it through.

Only the greatsword supposedly crafted by the third lord of Grassmere was intact. The semi-transparent floating window showed that my Health had dropped below thirty percent. Rena, too, was bleeding from multiple wounds. We hadn't even made it halfway through the ravine. Maybe I should've listened to Rena and fled while we still could. The encirclement felt impossible to break through.

The fourth wave consisted of three Orcs, each wielding massive cavalry lances and tower shields. Their foreheads and jaws jutted out, and their muscles were five times more developed than any human's.

Orcs… So they were also part of Purson's fOrces? Where the hell had they been hiding?

"I am Atulg, Chieftain of the ScOrchscar Clan!"

"Gomoku of the Bittertongues shall face you!"

"I am Logdul, last warrior of the Stonecries! I'll kill the descendant of Isaac who made Orcs slaves!"

You've got to be kidding me.

I tried talking to Isaac.

But Isaac stayed silent. These three Orc Warriors were no joke.

I swung my blade and precisely deflected a thrusting spear.

Just then, another massive lance over three meters long lunged with great fOrce.

The steel lance cleanly pierced through my armor to the hilt. The Orc shoved the lance through my shoulder, hoisting me into the air.

Rena tried to fire, but she was out of arrows. Acorn had been caught up in the fight and was half-scOrched by flames.

I yanked the spear from my shoulder and hurled it forward with all my might.

[Skill: Throwing Lv. 1 activated.]

The spear flew with fOrce, but the three Orcs blocked it with their shields. Thrown with brute fOrce rather than skill, it bounced off the angled shields and flew into the air.

Even without using my Detection skill, I could tell more were coming. Breaking through the Orcs was impossible.

I looked over at Rena, barely breathing and covered in wounds. We didn't have any elixirs like the one the marquis had used. In fact, we were in worse shape than when we almost got melted by Lime.

To buy Rena some time, I addressed the enemies. "Aren't you going to try persuading me this time? No offers to carve Purson's brand into my body?"

The Orcs merely scoffed.

"We might consider it for a pure one, but we don't negotiate with heretics already tainted."

I'd heard that the Demon Lords didn't always get along, but not to this extent.

Falling apart before even descending into the world…

Those like Purson, who had successfully planted influence within the Empire, probably wanted to claim the human realm entirely for themselves.

Is this how they collapse in the end?

The head of the Orc Warrior on the far left exploded along with his helmet.

I didn't know what kind of dream he was seeing. Hot brain matter splashed out of his skull.

The Orc Warrior beside him, Gomoku, breathed his last.

Something spun violently and took his head clean off. His steel helmet and skull were crushed like tofu. His once-blazing heart went cold in an instant.

They didn't even have time to determine where the attack originated. Logdul, the last remaining Orc Warrior, reacted fast, raising his shield overhead.

A metallic crash rang out, and the upper part of his shield exploded. Another strike followed, blasting off Logdul's head.

I finally read the angle from the upper left. A figure in a gray robe was sliding rapidly down the steep cliff. There wasn't even time to admire the acrobatic descent. The figure closed the distance rapidly between us.

The eerie sound of a long scythe scraping the cliff wall echoed through the ravine. The front blade alone was over a meter long, and the rear trailed in two curved arcs.

For the first time in a while, I sensed something from Isaac—a tightly wound feeling of pain, a suffocating pressure.

What? You know something, don't you?

There was no reply. The gray-robed figure reached the ground in an instant, dropping from a height of about twenty meters. Then, approaching me, they grabbed the massive handle attached to the scythe and pulled it back.

A hollow silver cylinder popped out from behind the thick blade of the scythe. The gray-robed figure caught the floating twenty-centimeter-long cylinder midair and tucked it into her pocket before speaking.

"My name was Naneow. Naneow Tropin."

It was a husky woman's voice—youthful, yet with a strangely aged accent. Long silver hair, nearly white, could be seen inside the gray hood.

I recognized her immediately. She was the one who'd stuck me with the tab at the tavern in Daliac. The short note that read, You'll be thanking me soon. There was a reason the handwriting seemed familiar. I couldn't remember it at first because it had been too absurd.

...Naneow Tropin, leaving behind the guild rules here. However, anyone who brings 1L of Lu-Rium...

It was identical to the handwriting scribbled jokingly in the old T&T rulebook.

As I stared at her in surprise, she continued, "This isn't the peaceful south. It's not a place where you can just take a leisurely stroll."

"Have you been following me all this time?"

"Naneow Tropin...? No way..." Rena whispered in awe beside me.

Her trembling voice reminded me of who Naneow was.

"The Founder of T&T... Naneow?"

"I didn't raise it, but yeah, I made it. Skeleton, Sprout, follow me. I'm not really good at mass slaughter."

There was no choice. I didn't know if she was truly Naneow or how she planned to get us out of this trap, but following her was the only option. Otherwise, we'd die here.

Naneow's movements were so fast they looked like an illusion.

I picked up Rena and Acorn together and chased after her.

While running, Naneow pulled the scythe's handle sideways again. The handle bent backward at a ninety-degree angle, and another silver cylinder flew into the air.

"There are more fireflies rushing in ahead."

A silver flash shot from the tip of the scythe.

"Runic Fire. Piercing."

Flames erupted from the brush far ahead.

Did someone get hit.. and die?

Before reaching the burning brush, Naneow circled between a large rock and a tree, then suddenly ducked under the shadow of the boulder. It seemed strange at first, but from experience, a word soon came to mind.

Rena spoke before I could. "...A barrier?"

"Our little sprout has the basics down, huh?" Naneow replied casually.

The rock shifted, and a one-meter-wide hole leading underground appeared.

"No time. Get in. It's not a tunnel to hell, so don't worry too much."

Ever since learning about barriers from Isaac, I'd repeatedly encountered their real-world versions. Once the surface was peeled back, the world revealed secret places I never imagined existed. I was slowly realizing just how superficial my understanding had been.

The tunnel was very deep. Naneow leaped in lightly while I descended more cautiously using a ladder. The deeper I went, the wider and brighter it became.

A faint exclamation echoed as I landed on the ground. A black-haired human man, arms crossed, stared at me. Despite the gloomy energy surrounding him, he was handsome enough to be considered conventionally attractive.

"These the ones who were being hunted by Purson's followers?"

Naneow nodded silently from where she already stood. Even here, in this secret chamber, she kept her hood up.

She gave a short reply, sipping from a maple leaf-shaped syrup bottle with a straw. It was an odd sight.

"Is she... the sprout?"

A woman in a stereotypical mage's robe stepped forward from the opposite side of the black-haired man, raising her hand toward Rena. The mage, with black dots around her eyes and mouth, wore a blank expression and slightly parted lips.

Naneow confirmed again, "Uncorrupted. A very promising sprout. It's our job to raise her well."

The woman extended an oak staff forward.

There was no time to stop her. A warm wind blew from the staff, illuminating dark places, softening rough edges, and sprouting new buds on snow-covered trees.

Rena's breathing calmed almost instantly. Her bleeding stopped, her torn muscles regenerated, and new skin formed like magic. If not for the ripped clothes and bloodstains, one wouldn’t have believed she'd been wounded at all.

Rena's eyes widened at the transformation. The mage nodded, then looked at me with a troubled expression.

"Skeleton Friend, I don't have any magic that heals the undead."

White bone peeked through my torn armor, but none of the three flinched. The mage’s large eyes blinked, yet there was no malice in her tone.

[Using Skeletal Morphing]

My bones, damaged from the impact all over, began realigning themselves. It was an auxiliary skill embedded in Lord of Bones. During my escape from the marquis, I had improved its proficiency a lot, so aligning a few broken bones was no longer an issue.

Though my Health didn't recover, at least I looked a little more presentable now.

Naneow glanced between Rena and me before asking, "Looks like first aid is done. Now, let's get to the main point. Why've you been wrecking all of Purson's altars?"

Her question struck me as odd. She had just effortlessly decapitated three Orc Warriors. I assumed she was an enemy of theirs for some reason.

She sounded more inconvenienced than pleased that we had destroyed Purson's altars.

I asked cautiously, keeping my guard up. "Was that.. not okay? Destroying Purson's altars?"

The black-haired man chuckled and interrupted, "Of course it's okay. It's absolutely necessary. But we were supposed to do it. You stirred the pot and made them furious without any payoff."

The mage behind him placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Pershan, shut that mouth of yours. Don't interrupt the Founder when she's speaking."

"Yeah, yeah. Got it." He grumbled, shrugging his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Rena cautiously addressed the gray-robed figure. "Thank you for saving us. But, are you really Naneow Tropin? That person is from three hundred years ago..."

Naneow removed her hood.

"Our little sprout asked, so I can't ignore her."

Her long silver hair flowed out of the robe, tinged with a faint lavender gradient at the tips. With her slightly dazed turquoise eyes, Naneow Tropin reached out a white finger and pricked the tip with a blade.

A drop of blood fell to the floor, but it didn't soak in. It kept rolling and spreading as if the earth refused to accept it. Naneow's blood was thicker and more radiant than the silver energy flowing through my circuits.