Chapter 368: The Servant (2)
...udeudeug!
Vikir was crushed under a huge palm that pressed down on his entire torso.
"...It's not human power, that's for sure."
Vikir was right, the palm of D'Ordume that was now crushing his entire body was not human.
A palm as big as a bed, the back of the hand covered in rough, thick scales, and nails like sharp claws.
And what was visible beyond the thin webs spread between the five thick fingers were black scales and burning yellow pupils.
Saltwater Crocodile.
D'Ordume was revealing a grotesque creature, half human, half crocodile.
"I don't like this look because my uniform is torn."
D'Ordume muttered, baring his fearsome teeth.
Meanwhile, Vikir looked at D'Ordume's beast form and thought.
'...I wonder if the rumor was true that all five wardens of Nouvelle Vague are not human.'
Beastman. Humans with a mix of genes from various beasts.
They are considered to be similar to orcs, dwarves, and elves, and are capable of coexisting with humans due to their high intelligence and general appearance.
However, when their emotions get the best of them, they transform into grotesque forms that look like a mix of animals, and because of this, they have been discriminated against, and their numbers have decreased to the point where they are almost non-existent.
"Being a member of the saltwater crocodile family... this is rare."
Vikir burrowed into the soft dirt of the floor, slipping out of D'Ordume's palm in an instant.
D'Ordume bared his teeth and chased after Vikir.
A long, thick tail protruded from its black uniform and swung like a whip.
Quack!
The stone mountain behind him crumbled to pieces.
Vikir darted inward, following the hollow where the tail had passed, and swung his BDISSEM chain at D'Ordume's side.
However.
...Taaang!
The inside of D'Ordume's uniform was already filled with black, thick scales and barbs.
That's why Vikir's punch earlier hadn't done any damage.
"You don't stand a chance."
D'Ordume said, the aura of spirals still spinning from his forearms slamming into the ground.
kwakwakwakwakwakwang!
A pulsating storm of blows began to erupt from beneath the ground, threatening to tear the world apart.
Rocks, dirt, sand, and lava all turned to fine-grained dust in this whirlwind.
What's more, the surrounding atmosphere is boiling madly as sulfurous gases are being sucked into the center of the storm and ignited.
kuleuleuleuleuleug- kwakwakwang!
Explosions and crushing. Prisoners and guards alike shuddered in the distance at the sight, as if the god of destruction had descended.
And Vikir also made his decision.
"Ah, this won't work."
As long as he's wearing the BDISSEM restraints, he can't win, even if he comes back from the dead.
If it weren't for the stats he'd built up in the Hell Tree, he would have been torn apart long ago.
"Then how about this?"
Vikir ducked out of the way of a flying blow.
The destination was the slope where Vikir had been laboriously pushing boulders up just moments before.
D'Ordume had just reached the top of the slope when Vikir followed him.
tig-
Vikir kicked out all the loose rocks he had been working on.
And then a huge shower of boulders ignited and began to tumble down.
kwakwang!
The flaming boulders rolled down the slope at breakneck speed, crashing into D'Ordume.
"Familiarizing yourself with the terrain is fundamental to combat."
Vikir was always in the habit of studying the terrain around him in preparation for battle.
It was true in the jungle of the Red and Black Mountains, it was true in the orphanage, and it was true here on Level 9 in Nouvelle Vague.
But.
"You underestimate the Warden of Nouvelle Vague, kid."
D'Ordume was unfazed by the house-sized boulder that rolled right up to his nose.
"Heub!"
Taking a deep breath, D'Ordume raised his bulging forearms high in the air.
And then.
Kwah-bang!
The blow shattered the rock.
The powerful fist and the swirl of blades that followed didn't just shatter the rocks, they ground and crushed them into dust.
u-ooooo!
The guards, watching from afar, cheered at D'Ordume's incredible feat.
However.
"It's nice to have some strength. Please try more."
Vikir stomped his foot over a few more trunks on the slope.
kuleuleuleuleuleung-
Boulders, even larger than before, began to roll down the slope.
"...."
A bead of cold sweat formed on D'Ordume's forehead.
"Eh!"
It would be disgraceful for him to back down while his men were watching.
As Vikir had planned, D'Ordume was forced to use his strength to break every falling rock.
kwang! kwakwang! kwajijijig!
D'Ordume smashed three of the boulders in quick succession.
However, the fourth boulder proved to be a little too much for him....
ppeoeog-
He was only able to break it in half.
The remaining piece of rock sent D'Ordume flying backwards, and he landed upside down on a lava pool at the bottom of the slope.
...pungdeong! pusiiiig-
The lava pool, which was boiling at a temperature far beyond common sense, swallowed D'Ordume whole.
....
The guards who were cheering just a moment ago froze in place.
A strange silence settled over the entire labor camp.
Then.
Pur-pur-pur!
The surface of the lava pool was shattered, and something large and dark soared upward.
D'Ordume. He leaped up, his face a mess of anger.
The uniforms issued to wardens are supposed to be fireproof, but judging by the fact that they were so ragged, the burns he had sustained were serious.
"Kaaaagh, you bastard, I'll kill you!"
D'Ordume seemed to be blinded by his extreme rage.
One only had to look at his muscles, which were more than twice as bulging as before he fell into the lava.
Then.
"Enough."
Vikir held up his hand.
While D'Ordume paused, wondering what was going on, Vikir quickly explained.
"I have no intention of resisting any longer. Let me live."
"...?"
D'Ordume doubted his ears for a moment.
Criminals vicious enough to be locked up in Level 9 usually had huge egos.
So once they start a riot, the only way to quell it is by execution.
... but?
"I can't beat you. Unless I use mana, but I don't want to be killed anyway, so I'm done. I'll accept any punishment if you let me live. From now on, I'll be a good servant."
All the guards, including D'Ordume, understood what Vikir was saying.
Oh, my God, a prisoner of Level 9 is surrendering himself! If he was going to do this, why did he start a riot in the first place?
"You, you ridiculous...!"
D'Ordume was about to shout when Vikir nudged him to the side.
"Just so you know, I've been working on loosening up all the joints a little while now."
"...!"
"If you don't let me live, I'll zero out all the work you've done so far."
Vikir has been working on a lot of nails, not just the ones he just removed.
If all the boulders on the shaft up there were to roll off, the entirety of level nine would be wiped out.
grrtt.
D'Ordume gritted his teeth hard enough to break them.
If the little bastard has his way, he'll be caught someday, but the damage is too great.
With so many of his men watching, and the other workshops' laborers stopped, he couldn't afford to keep the commotion going any longer.
"Very well. If you surrender, I'll spare you execution."
"Very well then."
Vikir descended the slope only after receiving D'Ordume's public promise.
As Vikir descended, a number of guards who had been flanking D'Ordume rushed to his side and placed double and triple BDISSEM cuffs on him.
Thud, thud, thud.
D'Ordume walked over to the kneeling Vikir.
And then
Bam!
with all his might, he slammed his fist into Vikir's face.
ttug- ttuug-
D'Ordume snorted as he looked down at Vikir's bloodied body.
"Take him to solitary confinement. Three months, no, a hundred days."
"Yes! A hundred days in solitary is a de facto 'execution'."
Beside him, Lieutenant Colonel Bastille nodded.
Next, a number of guards rushed over and pulled at BDISSEM's chains.
Vikir fell to the ground, dragged, and disappeared into a deep pool of blood.
"...The commotion is over! Resume your labor!"
D'Ordume turned and shouted.
Then.
"...."
Neither the guards nor the prisoners stirred, but no one moved from their seats.
Then D'Ordume shouted again.
"What are you doing, resume your labor immediately!"
Just then, Lieutenant Kirko, next to him, spoke up in a low voice.
"Excuse me, Colonel.... I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but... don't have anything to do with labor."
"What?"
D'Ordume frowned as if he didn't know what she was talking about.
Then Kirko cautiously raised a finger and pointed behind him.
"...?"
D'Ordume turned his head to see what was behind him.
A collapsed mountain. Shattered rocks. Deeply dug up dirt.
The construction was so far advanced that there was nothing for the prisoners to do but labor.
The destruction was going on so fast and so much that it was overwhelming while D'Ordume ran around sweating.
"...! ...! ...! ...! ...!"
The veins on D'Ordume's forehead, who had single-handedly fulfilled the prisoners' work quota for the day, seemed as if they were about to burst.
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