Le Petit Prince (5)

There were two main reasons why we needed to drag Hraesvelgr down.

First, we had too few means to attack him.

Second, the sky was entirely his domain.

He must have spent his entire life in the sky. Soaring through the heavens, fighting the other two monsters. Dominating both land and sky.

He knew how to fight an opponent in the same sky from battling Vedrfolnir. He knew how to fight one crawling on the ground from battling Nidhogg.

Both were familiar to him.

We needed to drag him into an unfamiliar stage.

That was the first phase of our plan.

Create a battle purely between ground and ground, not sky and ground.

“Kuk!”

Of course, even though we managed to create such conditions, it was merely the starting point.

Just because we slammed him to the ground doesn’t mean he’s weakened.

He’s just unfamiliar with it. And even that will change as time passes, and he’ll gradually grow accustomed to fighting on the ground.

We needed to defeat him before that happened.

Using the minimum amount of time to apply maximum firepower.

Therefore…

“This damn monster bastard…”

Without Titan, our crystallization of firepower, we couldn’t overwhelm him. While dragging him to the ground was successful, we failed to take him down before he acclimated.

The cold wind slicing through the earth and the chill penetrating to the bone.

Beyond all that, the unreasonable condition that we could only touch his physical body after overcoming these obstacles.

“Kraaaak! Kraaaaaaak!”

It’s been a stalemate so far.

Claire deserves credit for holding her position with the axe embedded in his neck from the beginning.

Hraesvelgr is in agony from the axe slowly digging into his neck, constantly spewing cold wind and chill.

It’s a race against time—whether we’ll be shredded by his cold wind or he’ll lose his head to Claire’s axe.

And time isn’t on our side.

“Uaaaaaaaaaa!!”

Claire is doing well.

Watching her shriek like a berserker rather than a paladin, striking down with her axe as if chopping firewood, reminds me of how she was before my regression.

Considering her usual demeanor, she couldn’t be doing any better. She’s continuing her attack while taking the cold wind and chill head-on with her body.

“……”

But the wind’s flow is changing.

I feel a chill run down my spine and immediately borrow the wind pouch of Aeolus, god of winds.

I need to block this flow. Hraesvelgr is getting accustomed to the current situation.

If that’s the case, this must be his trump card to completely flip the situation.

If I leave this unchecked, he’ll find a way out.

I need to buy time. I need to disrupt him so he doesn’t get used to it.

I need to make him realize clearly that this method has failed.

“I really haven’t changed at all.”

Even if I borrow Aeolus’s wind pouch, I can’t use the god’s full power.

My opponent is a monster that rules the wind. All I managed to do was temporarily halt his flow.

From the beginning, I had no chance of defeating him with an ability of the same type.

So I add more.

“Hup!”

I thrust my master’s sword right into the center of the flow.

The aura concentrated on the sword begins to scatter, as if being shredded by the wind.

But even that’s enough to calm the gathering storm.

“You dare try to block the wind before me!”

“Why not!”

Hraesvelgr, noticing what I’m trying to do, begins to move the flow faster. It’s only natural.

When someone is openly interfering, who would just sit back and take it?

Especially if it’s someone who’s already been hit once and is furious to the core.

I knew he would react this way. I knew it from the moment I started doing this. That’s why the burden I prepared to bear isn’t just this much.

“I can reattach my arm later!”

I thrust the sword deeper into the flow. I concentrate all my aura to its maximum and gather it at the sword’s tip.

I pour even the aura protecting my body completely into the flow.

My arm is sliced off. The arm holding the sword flies into the air.

I don’t give it a glance. I don’t hesitate. I immediately grab the sword with my other hand and pierce through the center of the flow.

Swish!

What I lost was one right arm.

What I gained was another chance.

This is what I had prepared for when we left without Titan, our overwhelming firepower.

“Strike it down!!”

I’ve suppressed the flow. I’ve sealed Hraesvelgr’s secret technique.

As a result, the cold wind and chill raging around him subside.

Even if it’s just for a moment, that’s enough.

Because Claire’s axe is already pressing down on his neck.

Claire’s axe has already been driven deep into Hraesvelgr’s neck.

It’s cutting through flesh and breaking bone.

Yes, if she can sever that bone now, the rest will be smooth sailing.

And this isn’t something only I can analyze.

“Kuk!”

She falls from the sky like a meteor.

Scattering purple aura-infused threads from both hands, she lands atop the axe.

Línea Spirin.

Titan was born a warrior.

Claire is loved by the gods.

I am an apostle of the gods.

But among us, the one with the most special talent is Línea.

“Claire! Finish him off!”

An overwhelming instinct that allowed her to subdue even Belial’s Seven Blades without ever learning how to fight.

The technique of Shade, considered the world’s best assassin.

These two connected and grew, and Línea finally hit a wall.

Yes, too quickly, enviably so.

Thud!

The aura on Línea’s threads blazes brightly. The thread itself and the aura mix, becoming a single material.

The level of mastery that knights call aura blade.

Línea surpassed the wall just by handling a sniper rifle that creates aura blade projectiles a few times.

The threads mixed with aura now wrap around Claire’s double-bladed axe.

Like fire spreading, Línea’s aura pours into Claire’s axe.

An absurd sensitivity, coupled with the essence of techniques built up by countless people over lifetimes.

Thud!

Claire pulls the double-bladed axe from Hraesvelgr’s neck and strikes down forcefully again.

The axe, which until now had only scattered blood while being blocked by flesh and bone, finally hits the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Yes, her axe has finally crushed through flesh and bone to reach the earth.

“Haa… Haa…”

As Claire and Línea pant heavily, I grimace while clutching my severed arm.

We’ve taken down one pillar of the trial known as the <Corpse Devourer>.

The moment we realized this, all three of us collapsed to the ground.

Boom!

Hraesvelgr, who should have lost his head, rose to his feet on the earth.

“What the…”

*     *      *

The anomaly didn’t occur only on Lost’s side.

Hecate, who had been dancing a fan dance alone while watching the battle between dragons, couldn’t hide her bewilderment at the sight of Nidhogg rising despite having his head crushed.

-Ho, hoeee…

Pinocchio felt terror at the sight of Vedrfolnir floating in the air despite having his wings and feathers burned and several wind holes created in his body—holes of the very wind that monster so loved.

“Eh? How is it still moving after being damaged that badly?”

Just because they’re monsters doesn’t mean they aren’t bound by physical constraints. They, too, have brains, hearts, flowing blood.

They feel pain and sense the danger of death. This was evident from fighting them and from the screams and roars they let out.

But not anymore.

“You.”

“You scum.”

“You all.”

The three monsters, from their separate positions, with neither head, neck, nor heart remaining, practically dead.

“””Must die.”””

And yet they were still moving.

*     *      *

Titan, who had been struck by the poison of Nina’s spiritual beast, Jormungandr, was on his knees, struggling between life and death.

Nina had long since gone deep into the forest, leaving Titan behind.

Titan had to endure that freezing time alone.

‘So noisy.’

Though enduring the pain alone was difficult enough, Titan’s ears were filled with irritating sounds.

‘It’s too noisy!’

Since he was biting his lips to endure the pain, he couldn’t shout directly. But it bothered him that the sound was becoming increasingly clear.

What initially sounded like flies buzzing around his ears eventually turned into the sound of people talking.

Though it was certainly better than before, Titan became afraid of hearing that sound.

-Titan.

“……”

That voice. The unforgettable, the voice he didn’t want to forget.

-My son.

Gentle and soft.

Seemingly languid yet infinitely warm.

-Playing hooky again?

It was Rosaria’s voice—the one who died because of Titan.

Tap tap tap tap.

Titan raised his head.

He instinctively reacted to the sound of footsteps passing by him.

-Mother!

He saw the figure of a young orc.

He saw Rosaria, the one he had so desperately wanted to see.

The scenery of the palace, which he had fled from, unfolded before his eyes.

“This is the poison’s effect.”

Hallucinations and auditory hallucinations.

Even as Titan gazed at the nostalgic scene, he knew this.

It’s a malicious poison. A poison that pokes at a person’s painful spots.

As Titan felt that pain acutely, the illusion unfolding before his eyes continued.

-Titan, it’s time for your reading lessons. If you get caught playing hooky here, Todd will scold you, you know?

-I don’t take orders from those weaker than me, Mother.

-I see… So you finally cracked Todd’s head.

-He was weak.

The young Titan puffed his chest proudly. The current Titan felt utterly dismayed watching his younger self.

Rosaria hugged the young Titan, who clung to her with an innocent expression, not knowing anything.

-Mmm, hff, mmmff! Achoo! Ah, no, wait a moment?

-Yes, Mother.

Rosaria tried to lift her young son but couldn’t due to lack of strength.

-My, you’ve grown so much? Our prince.

-I learned that to become a great king, one must eat well and sleep well!

But he was still a child after all.

Rosaria was already weakened. She was growing thinner by the moment, unable to adapt to the harsh and hot environment of the Malachite Kingdom.

And the foolish and stupid young Titan didn’t know this.

-Hnngh!

Rosaria was a mother. A parent who always pretended to be strong in front of her child.

Forcibly embracing and lifting the young Titan, Rosaria managed to place him on her lap.

For whatever reason, the young Titan was stupidly smiling, unaware that his parent was struggling.

“……”

And Titan was watching this scene with sorrowful eyes.

He felt like he could be consumed by that moment.

He welled up with tears at his own foolishness and Rosaria’s maternal love.

-Oh my prince, if you want to become a great king in the future, you need to study hard too?

-It’s boring! And Todd is weaker than me!

-But Todd is a scholar orc. It’s okay for him to be a bit weak since he’s the wisest orc in this kingdom, isn’t it?

-Knowledge without strength is meaningless!

-…You’ve learned to say rather plausible things. My son.

Rosaria, breaking out in a cold sweat and flustered, soon tickled the young Titan with a mischievous expression.

-Ahahahaha!

Laughter bloomed around them like flowers. The ignorant young Titan and Rosaria watching him.

Laughter blossomed between them.

-How about this then? I’ll teach you. That’s okay, right?

-Mother, you know how to read?

-…You underestimate me too much. I can read too, you know.

-Then I’ll do that!

-Shall we go get a book then?

Rosaria left her room holding the young Titan’s hand.

She still looked as if she might collapse at any moment. Yes, Titan could only realize this fact now.

“You mustn’t go…”

Titan pleaded to Rosaria, who was leaving with his younger self’s hand in hers. She mustn’t go. She needs to receive treatment here.

Recovering her strength should come first.

“Please…”

Thud!

Titan, who had been kneeling, rose to try to stop them.

The poison’s pain remained.

That pain reminded him that this moment was a hallucination and auditory illusion.

Even so, Titan moved.

He followed the two, rolling on the ground several times with his numb body.

-This flower is called a rose, and it’s written like this. And in Elven language…

The young Titan was obedient to Rosaria’s words. He followed her words and learned reading from her.

The first characters he learned were flower names.

The names of plants that Rosaria longed for.

“……”

The illusions and hallucinations grow increasingly distant.

Titan followed the illusion aimlessly. As he walked, the illusion moved and time passed.

Toward Rosaria’s final moment.

Toward his original sin.

Yes, that very day.

-Mother?

-Ah, Titan? Come here… Today I’ll tell you about… what crops grow in this area…

It was the day when the weakened Rosaria finally collapsed before her young child’s eyes.