Chapter 178: Ruthlessness, Reinforcements, and Nolan’s Foresight
The undead were also difficult to kill, but accumulated damage would clearly weaken them; this pig-headed creature, however, was plainly alive, yet its toughness was even more absurd than that of the dead.
Vivi’s left arm was still bleeding, but she had no time to care. Faced with a monster that she couldn’t injure, couldn’t kill, and that could regenerate at high speed, she had no immediate solution and could only rely on her agility to keep dodging.
The pig-headed monster, however, had no intention of giving her a moment to breathe. It licked its lips with lingering hunger, then drove its thick legs forward again, its massive body charging at Vivi once more.
Gritting her teeth, Vivi pushed her speed to the limit, darting like a swallow weaving through a violent storm, her figure erratic and elusive as she narrowly evaded each falling strike of the greatsword at the last possible instant. At the same time, she searched for openings with her dagger, carving streaks of blood across the monster’s body in an attempt to find a weakness.
Her blade slashed toward its knee, trying to gouge it out, but only left a shallow wound.
“Hard bones,” she spat.
Another blow crashed down where she had just stood, dirt exploding and stones scattering. Between evasions, she continued firing Night Owl, aiming for its eyes, but the creature merely raised an arm to shield its face; the bolts embedded in its muscles and drew blood, yet it showed no sign of pain, not even slowing down.
Strength, defense, speed, regeneration… purely physical attacks left this thing practically flawless. Vivi could feel her stamina draining rapidly, and the tearing pain from her wounded arm made it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The monster’s strength surpassed that of ordinary Gold-rank fighters, and Nightingales were never meant for direct confrontation; she was being forced to fight on her weakest terms. This couldn’t go on—she had to find another way.
After dodging another sweeping strike, Vivi seized a fleeting opening, planted a hand on the ground, and flipped nimbly into the air, preparing to circle behind the monster.
Now!
But at the moment she exerted force, her injured arm was violently pulled.
“Ghk—!” A piercing pain shot through her body, and her motion twisted midair, her fluid movement collapsing.
Damn it! Alarm bells rang in her mind, but her body couldn’t keep up. As she landed, her ankle twisted, and she fell awkwardly into the mud.
“Kh…kh…” For the first time, a trace of human-like delight appeared in the pig-headed monster’s four eyes. It let out a hoarse, grating squeal and raised its cross-shaped greatsword high, bringing it crashing down toward Vivi, who no longer had time to dodge.
It’s over.
Those two words flashed through her mind as the enormous blade blotted out the sky. But Vivi never surrendered easily; a savage resolve burst from her amber eyes.
You want to kill me? Then you won’t walk away unscathed.
She didn’t close her eyes to await death. Having grown up on the streets, she knew how to be ruthless. Gathering the last of her strength, she gripped her black dagger tightly in her right hand, curled her body, and prepared to launch a final desperate strike before death claimed her.
Even if she died, she would carve a piece of flesh from it.
That was Vivi’s way of living.
Clang!
Metal collided with flesh and bone, and blood sprayed wildly. A large, mangled chunk of flesh mixed with shattered bone fell from midair, hitting the muddy ground along with Vivi’s dagger.
…
Vivi blinked in confusion as she opened her eyes. Her hand hadn’t been severed; her dagger had been knocked loose by the resistance when it bit into the monster’s flesh. The pig-headed monster’s greatsword had stopped mere inches from her forehead, unable to advance further. A plain cast-iron cross staff was braced firmly against the blade, holding it back.
The monster’s right arm was now spurting blood violently, a massive chunk of flesh missing, with cracks visible even in the bone—this was the result of Vivi’s desperate strike.
Following the staff upward, Vivi saw him: the former temple priest who was usually gentle and proper in speech was now gripping the staff with all his might, face flushed red, veins bulging at his temples, every muscle in his body tensed to its limit as he resisted the monster’s overwhelming force.
“Lost soul… the Mother Goddess’ majesty…” Kayan forced out the prayer through clenched teeth, each word trembling as he strained to hold the blade at bay. “By Her side… be granted rest!”
At the moment the words fell, a blinding white-gold holy flame erupted from the cross staff. The flame transformed into several radiant whips that instantly coiled around the monster’s upper body.
This was the fifth-circle sacred hymn, Sethis’ Majesty: Requiem of Rest. Though the original text spanned fifty-four lines and three hundred eighty-seven words, Kayan, whose faith and power had both advanced, released it now in just four short phrases.
“ROOOAAR—!!!”
The pig-headed monster let out a terrifying scream unlike anything before. Wherever the holy flame bound it, flesh burned violently, charring black and emitting foul smoke. Strangely, though Vivi stood so close, she felt no heat at all—the sacred fire targeted only evil.
Before the creature could recover from the agony, another sword, likewise wreathed in white-gold holy flame, came howling in from the side.
Slash!
The blade struck heavily into the monster’s left chest and drove downward in one unstoppable motion, carving a massive wound from its chest all the way to its right abdomen—disemboweling it.
“AAAAAAARGH—!!!”
The monster shrieked in utter agony, thrashing wildly and somehow breaking free from Kayan’s holy restraints. Instinct took over; it didn’t even try to attack the enemies right beside it and instead turned to flee.
But its opponent was one of the most seasoned leaders of Demont’s mercenary groups.
Rehanna, eyes steady, stepped forward in a flash. Her swordsmanship bore no unnecessary flourishes; only the most direct, lethal efficiency. She struck precisely at the monster’s hamstring, the flame-wreathed blade cutting through dense muscle.
Thud!
Its leg gave out, and the massive body crashed to the ground. Without hesitation, Rehanna stepped onto its back, pinned it, and drove her sword straight into the back of its neck with both hands.
The blade sank in to the hilt.
The monster’s body convulsed violently, its limbs thrashing against the ground before finally going still.
Expressionless, Rehanna pulled out her sword. The holy flames continued to burn over the corpse, purifying its twisted flesh into ash.
“Kayan, that holy flame enchantment of yours is impressive,” she remarked, giving her sword a casual swing before glancing back at him.
“Are you alright, Miss Vivi?” Kayan finally let out a breath, planting his heavy staff against the ground as he panted, then extended a hand toward Vivi, who was still on the ground.
“Thanks, muscle priest.” Vivi wasn’t one for formalities; she took his hand with her uninjured right arm and stood up.
Kayan gave a helpless smile. “My name is Kayan, Miss Vivi.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she waved it off. “You clergy types are too serious; no sense of humor.”
Kayan shook his head and murmured a brief prayer. A gentle holy light enveloped Vivi’s left arm, warmth spreading through the wound as flesh healed at a visible speed, soon restoring her skin to smooth perfection without even a scar—though the bloodstains remained, making it look far worse than it now was.
The battle was over. With three Gold-rank fighters present—one of them a priest especially effective against such abominations—it had ended quickly.
Yet beneath the shade of a nearby tree, the man named Kost watched as his “capable subordinate” was cleanly dispatched, still wearing that same gentle smile, showing no anger and not the slightest concern for his own situation. He simply observed Kayan and Rehanna with interest and gave a light round of applause.
“I didn’t expect reinforcements to arrive so quickly.” He paused, the smile on his lips turning faintly playful. “Or is it… that your lord understands us far better than I imagined?”