Chapter 89: The Ghosts of the Ancestors (1)
"If you don't know what you're going to get, don't bother making anything."
That's what Hugo Les Baskerville used to say whenever he had to forge the Seven Teeth.
He has always faced many challengers, and he has always managed to put them under his knife.
Among those who have challenged Hugo in the meantime, there are many who have performed unexpected and unpredictable actions such as surprise attacks, assassinations, ambushes, betrayals, and curses, but in the end, all of them were useless.
Overwhelming strength.
In front of that, all variables and surprises are bound to degenerate into mere tricks.
And Vikir was putting that lesson to use this time.
[grrrrr...]
The only difference was that the overwhelming power was not his own, but someone else's.
<Oxbear>.
Danger Rating: A
Size: 5 meters
Found in: Red and Black Mountains, 7th Ridge
-A giant bear with two massive horns.
A carnivorous bear, the strongest terrestrial predator, and a perfect killing machine, it is considered the strongest and pinnacle of the Red and Black Mountains 7th Ridge ecosystem.
They have few natural enemies other than their own kind.
A bear with two massive horns.
Standing at around five meters tall and weighing a ton, it is one of the most dangerous beasts in the world.
This oxbear was even familiar with Vikir.
"...a scruffy, blind female."
This oxbear was more than twice as tall as the others, and weighed more than twice as much.
If I had to rate this one, I'd give it an A+ or better.
This was the old female's territory, where the Iliad was taking place.
Vikir knew the location from a previous joint hunt with Aiyen, and had deliberately made a big fuss to attract the female oxbear.
Achheman, who had never been out hunting, hadn't realized it, and that's why he'd suffered this fate.
"Ugh...."
Ahheman desperately wiped the frothy saliva from the corner of his mouth with both hands.
Oxbear strained his ears to hear what was going on around him.
'It seems that his already bad eyes got worse.'
This, too, was something Vikir already knew.
Shhh.
Vikir fell backwards silently.
<Binge Fly 'Beelzebub'> / Awl
-1 slot: Burn – Cerberus (A+)
Slot -2: Silent Hill – Mushuhushu(A+)
Slot -3: Sacrum – Oxbear(A)
Thanks to the skill I gained from capturing the giant snake Mushuhushu a while ago, my steps are silent.
Ahheman, on the other hand, can't help but groan in pain as Cerberus' fire still burns in the wound Vikir left behind.
"Hmph! Hmph!"
Add to that the fact that his back, which had been struck by Oxbear's forepaw just moments before, was now feeling the impact.
The slowly recognizable pain, and the constant barrage of pain, eventually forced Ahheman's bloodied lips to twist open.
"Aaaaaaah!"
And Oxbear responded to the sound immediately.
Thwack!
Oxbear slammed its front paws together, sending the lower half of Ahheman flying.
He spun like a top and crashed into a tree, his legs and back bent in a strange way.
[Crunch!]
Oxbear once again unleashed his fury on the intruder.
[Screech- Screech-]
Her ears perk up at the sound of a cry from behind her.
He spun around to see two wide-eyed Oxbear cubs.
Their sturdy builds were uncharacteristic of cubs, and their glowing eyes hinted at intelligence.
The female oxbear snorted at the intruders before turning back to her cubs.
At this point, she must have decided that she had demonstrated her motherly majesty and resolve.
And then.
Vikir reappeared outside the bush.
Ahheman was lying on the ground, motionless.
But he was clearly still breathing, as his shaky breathing could be felt.
Rustle-pass-sac
The leaves rustled around him.
The warriors of Balak, who have been watching the Iliad, are gathering.
All the warriors surrounded Vikir and Ahheman.
The winners and losers were all too clear. Vikir was unscathed, and Ahheman, though alive, was literally hanging on for his life.
"It's over. We have a winner."
"At this point, doesn't it matter if Ahheman is innocent or not?"
"Regardless of who's the innocent one, Ahheman was just too ugly."
"I think it turned out very well."
The warriors each had their say.
From the Red Plague to the present day Iliad, they'd all had their own disappointments with Ahheman, big and small.
And as he listened to what they had to say about him, he sank to the ground like a worm, shivering.
"Why! Why!"
Ahheman was screaming.
What was the difference between him and this Vikir in front of him?
Why is his path so different from his own, even though they were both brought as slaves from a foreign land?
He thought of all the years of misery he had endured.
And all that Vikir had.
Youth. The daughter of a chieftain who followed him. The trust of all her peers around it. The support and love of his tribe years ago. Her extraordinary abilities and radiant appearance.
And yet, that glint in those eyes, as if he didn't care about any of it.
"...! ...! ...!"
Ahheman gritted his teeth. He grinded his gums, even though all his teeth were missing.
He tore his eyes away from Vikir and looked at himself.
Old. An old shaman who treated himself like a sex puppet. Despised and ignored by all his friends. Used and abandoned by the Empire. Unrecognized abilities and a body that was now crippled.
The inferiority complex, defeat, hatred, anger, resentment, and compensatory feelings of an old man who has lost everything to a young man who has everything.
And.
"...."
Ahun quickly turns away from the gaze that met his.
The last straw. His grandson's exterior ignited Ahheman's emotions, causing them to explode.
Meanwhile.
"...."
Ahun's head was turned away, his fists balled tightly.
Then a hand clapped him on the shoulder.
Vikir. He looked at Ahun with calm eyes.
"How about taking care of it with your own hands?" he said.
"...I don't want to."
Ahun shook his head. He almost lost his sister during the Red Death.
He could never forgive his grandfather for that.
There was also bitterness and anger at the way he had treated her and his sister all these years.
But Vikir shook his head.
"It wouldn't be a bad thing to protect him at the last minute. It's not just for the sake of justice, but also to prevent any unforeseen situation... ... ."
"Enough! That coward deserves to die, he's not worthy of pity!"
Ahun slapped Vikir's hand away and turned away once more.
Just then.
Ku-oh-oh-oh!
Something happened.
All over the grounds, strange currents of mana began to form.
Crackle, crackle, crackle!
The sound of bones interlocking, and the corpses of the orangutans that had been struck by Oxbear's front paws earlier began to rise again.
They shed their heavy garments of rotting flesh and picked up their skeletal bodies.
Balak's warriors cringed at the sight of the dead.
The orangutan corpses soon moved like strung marionettes, walking over to help Ahheman to his feet.
Then. He raised his bloodshot eyes to look at Vikir, to Ahun beside him, and to all of Balak's warriors beyond.
" ... I don't need you. All of you."
Ahheman gave up. He wasn't talking about the Iliad.
He meant giving up everything he had as a warrior of Balak.
And.
As soon as one Balak was gone, one Rococo was born.
As soon as he abandoned his warrior's pride, Ahheman began to practice a part of command that had been taboo, even practiced within the Rococo itself.
A forbidden incantation to call the dead back to the land of the living.
When the Balak warriors heard him recite the incantation, they gave him a look of disdain.
"What is this, another one of your stupid resurrection spells?"
"How ugly. Even though you claim to be a shaman,...."
"But what can we do, we don't even have monkeys to resurrect anymore!"
There are no more dead bodies in this neighborhood.
At most, a few orangutans here were the only dead that Ahheman could raise.
But.
"...!"
Vikir snapped.
He realized that Ahheman's spell was not directed here, but a little further away.
Vikir turned his head to follow the direction of the black mana stream.
There he saw a familiar place.
A valley and waterfall rising high above the low rolling hills, and a spring of dragon's water flowing beneath it.
It was the Tomb of the Brave, where all of Balak's ancestors were said to be buried.
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