Chapter 107: Chapter 107: The Blood-Colored Duel
Behind the Koccus Ironworks, near the low storerooms, a guard carrying a spear rounded a corner, scanning the surroundings. The sound of his leather boots clacking against the stone floor echoed alone through the night.
As he reached a door, he stopped and pulled a pipe from his pocket, preparing to light it and take a drag. Suddenly, a large hand slithered around his neck from behind like a snake and swiftly covered his mouth.
The pipe fell to the ground, scattering tobacco. The guard reached for the short knife at his waist, but a dagger slashed across his throat, spraying blood into the thick, ink-like darkness of the night.
Barrett gently lowered the guard's lifeless body to the ground. The only sound during the entire assassination was the soft clink of the pipe hitting the floor. He continued to move like a shadow, silently creeping forward. Looking up, he saw the silhouette of someone holding a crossbow standing atop a rooftop.
Barrett took a throwing axe from his spatial ring. The curved moon-shaped grip told him it was a "Nightsaber" axe, forged by Baharuth. The blade was coated with black paint, enchanted so it wouldn't glow.
He tested the weight of the "Nightsaber" in his hand, then threw the axe. The black weapon merged with the black night, and the figure atop the roof plummeted to the ground.
Barrett leaped forward in a smooth slide, catching the falling body in his arms with the grace of a ballet dancer cradling their partner. He held the corpse in a bridal carry, making no sound whatsoever.
Suddenly, the silence of the night shattered. Cries of battle and clashing steel rang out, mingled with the chanting of spells. From the direction of the noise, it was clear that a one-on-many fight was happening at the front gate of the ironworks. Barrett understood immediately—EeDeChi had indeed launched the main attack.
The footsteps of mercenaries grew louder, accompanied by the angry shouts of commanders barking orders for them to sheath their weapons and rush to the front gate. The area behind the ironworks immediately became quiet. Barrett was pleased by this turn of events. He had no concerns about the captain handling the lesser opponents.
He slipped around the magical defenses, moving through a narrow alley, and entered a large, empty hall. The hall was spacious, with large braziers burning brightly in each corner. Piles of scrap metal were stacked like small mountains, scattered with swords, knives, and arrowheads.
Several bags of coarse rye bread and beer bottles were scattered haphazardly around. A pile of bricks formed a small pit, with a stew pot resting on top. The embers of a campfire smoldered beneath it, and bubbles were rising from the pot, indicating it was still cooking. It seemed the mercenaries had temporarily turned this hall into a supply base.
Barrett inhaled gently. His keen sense of smell was sharp enough to identify that the stew pot contained dried beef from a Dire Bull. Dried beef was a favorite food of adventurers, rich in nutrients and easy to preserve, though it could be tough on the teeth if kept for too long.
For a moment, Barrett felt distracted. He realized he hadn't been on an adventure in a long time. He had stayed in the capital of the kingdom for too long, and this peaceful life was starting to make his bones feel rusty.
A speck of dust fell onto his nose. Barrett brushed it off, then suddenly rolled into the ground with a swift movement!
Right above him, the roof shattered, and a heavy sword fell, accompanied by chunks of brick and crumbling wall debris, landing exactly where he had been standing moments before.
Barrett sprang to his feet, drawing his sword as the dust settled. He saw the man who had jumped down from the roof to attack him—Slam Daguerre.
Slam was enormous, towering like a troll. Even Barrett, who was no slouch in size, had to tilt his head back to see his face. Standing with his sword, Slam seemed like a mountain blocking the way.
"What a shame," Slam's voice rasped, his tone unusually hoarse, with a bandage wrapped around his forehead. "I didn't manage to chop you down earlier. But next time, you won't be so lucky."
"Heh," Barrett scoffed, "weren't you the one who got knocked out of the arena by EeDeChi's sword? How the hell are you still standing? Looks like you didn't learn your lesson."
"The girl is finished," Slam's expression darkened. "General Odys found her weak spot. Soon, your little adventurer squad will be reunited with her... down in the hell!"
Slam's face twisted in a grimace. His blood-marked giant sword, shattered by EeDeChi, was no longer in his hands. Instead, he now wielded an ordinary longsword.
"Is that so?" Hearing that EeDeChi was about to be killed, Barrett couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, Odys will meet you in hell soon enough."
"I've heard you adventurers are all pretty sentimental," Slam said, pulling an Orichalcum metal badge from his leather armor. He held it up with three fingers and continued, "Look at this. It's the Adventurer's Guildmaster Tony Ulea's badge. His name is even engraved on it—To...ny U...le...a. You know why it's in my hands?"
Slam grinned, his smile twisted and cruel. "Because I killed Tony, and I took his head."
The smile disappeared from Barrett's face. His teeth clenched tightly, his eyes burning with molten fury.
He slowly raised his right arm, rolled up his sleeve, and revealed a silver bracer on his wrist. The bracer glowed with a faint red light—his trophy from when he had been attacked by the "Lord of Despair," Clovis.
Barrett snapped his left fingers, flicking the bracer on his right arm, and said, "Look, this is your brother Clovis Daguerre's bracer. His begging face before he died was truly unforgettable."
Slam's smile vanished. His face twisted like a misshapen lump of dough, growing more cruel and menacing by the second. He tightened his grip on the massive sword, lifting it high over his shoulder, assuming the Ox Guard stance. His knuckles cracked with a chilling sound, and he sneered, "So, are we even now?"
"Yeah, we're even. How about we part ways here?" Barrett reached into his spatial ring and drew the two-handed sword with which he was most skilled. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the raging fire in his chest. With both hands gripping the hilt tightly, he locked his gaze on Slam's movements, holding the sword in a Fool's Guard, the tip pointed to the ground.
"DIE!" Slam charged like an enraged bull, his eyes bloodshot. He took two massive strides, raising his heavy sword to bring it down in a vicious strike.
Barrett tilted his body and met the blow, dragging his blade across Slam's arm. Slam swung his sword at an angle, and the two blades clashed with a loud crash, sending ice-blue sparks flying.
Both fighters quickly adjusted, wrapping their swords around each other. Their blades spun and slid along the other's, each one aiming for the other's chest.
Barrett and Slam both took a step back. Slam quickly pulled back his sword, using his height advantage to bring a sharp diagonal strike down toward Barrett's neck. Barrett dropped low, narrowly avoiding the attack, and with both hands swung his sword in a wide slash aimed at Slam's thigh.
The blades clashed, struck, and sliced through the air in rapid succession, sometimes intertwining like lovers' arms, other times slashing wildly toward lethal targets. The sword light was cold and sharp, weaving a deadly dance of death.
Barrett took a deep breath, stepping back to reorient himself. Slam's swordsmanship was indeed remarkable, and his skill was on par with his own. But his body seemed unnaturally strengthened, his power far beyond the norm. If they kept fighting like this, it was only a matter of time before Barrett started losing ground.
However, in their previous exchange, Barrett noticed that Slam had repeatedly aimed for his right arm. While cutting off the hand could be considered an attack, Slam's strikes seemed focused, as if there was an obsession behind them.
Barrett deduced that it was because of the silver bracer on his right wrist—Clovis's bracer. Slam seemed determined to sever his hand. If that was the case, then Slam's sword trajectory became easier to predict.
Once again, the two collided, their swords striking again and again at each other's vital points. Barrett intentionally exposed a weakness in his right arm, and, just as he expected, Slam shifted his sword, aiming directly for his wrist.
Barrett reversed his heavy sword, blocking the strike, and then took a quick step forward, smashing the pommel of his sword into Slam's nose. The sound of breaking bone rang clear as Slam howled in pain, stumbling back.
Seizing the opportunity, Barrett swung his sword in a wide arc, the sharp tip cutting through Slam's leather armor and leaving a long, narrow gash across his abdomen.
Two streams of blood poured from the collapsed bridge of Slam's nose. He wiped the blood away, his fury growing even more intense. Like a mad giant, he swore to destroy everything in front of him.
But Barrett remained as cold as ever, his eyes fixed on Slam's every move, carefully adjusting his stance.
"I'LL CHOP YOU INTO PIECES!" Slam snarled through gritted teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, his rage uncontrollable. Nearby, the pot of food the mercenaries had been preparing simmered away. Slam lifted the pot with his sword and hurled it toward Barrett.
Barrett sliced the copper pot in half with a single strike. Soup, strips of meat, and cabbage stems scattered into the air. Hot liquid and food flew as Slam's sword came crashing down after it. Barrett rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, and quickly backed up two steps to the wall. He repeated the motion, knocking a fire pit off the wall and tossing it at Slam.
The fire rained down, but Slam didn't flinch. He charged through the flames, crushing the burning coals beneath his feet. However, one small spark flew into his eye. He screamed in pain, clutching his right eye and temporarily stumbling to a halt.
In the brief moment it took for him to recover, he opened his eyes only to find that Barrett had vanished from his sight. Looking up, he saw the bright blade of a sword growing rapidly larger in his vision.
Barrett had leaped from the wall, stepping on the fire pit frame for extra height. He swung his sword overhead with all his strength, and for the first time, his voice boomed in a battle cry:
"THIS STRIKE IS FOR TONY ULEA!"
The blade cut through the air like a razor-sharp fan. Slam's neck was severed in an instant. His massive head shot upward, blood pouring from the stump like a fountain, splattering onto the ceiling and staining the air crimson.
Slam's severed head tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop at Barrett's feet. His bloodshot eyes were wide open in fury, still refusing to close in death.
Barrett exhaled slowly, tightening his grip on the sword hilt. He stood still for a moment, silently processing. Stepping through the pool of blood at his feet, he approached Slam's headless body. Reaching into the corpse's leather armor, he searched briefly and found Old Tony's Orichalcum metal badge.
He pressed the metal badge gently against his chest, pausing for a moment of silent mourning before storing it away in his spatial ring.
...
Barrett continued to move through the back of the ironworks. Of course, it could no longer be called sneaking; he was now walking boldly forward, gradually making his way deeper into the ironworks.
Along the way, there were very few enemies. He only encountered a few panicked mercenaries. The mercenaries looked as if they had seen a ghost, utterly lacking any fighting spirit. Two mercenaries who charged at him were dealt with in three swift sword strikes, and the rest fled in terror.
Pulling out a map of the ironworks, Barrett compared it to the surrounding buildings and realized he had reached the central area. Ahead was a spacious factory building made of bricks. He felt his way to the back door, listening closely. From inside the factory, he faintly heard the voice of an elderly man: "…they'll be released soon."
Barrett gripped his sword tightly and gently pushed the back door open, stepping lightly into the factory. The moment he entered, a wild surge of magical energy swirled violently in the center of the room.
But this was not what shocked Barrett. Less than five meters away from him, the boiling molten iron churned, and his teammates, Sean and Stella, were falling right into it!
In an instant, the seasoned adventurer sprang into action. He drew a throwing axe and hurled it at the pulley overhead. The axe embedded itself into the gear, jamming the mechanism, and the iron chain tightened, catching Sean and Stella just inches from the molten iron.
But the danger wasn't over. Before they could catch their breath, another wave of trouble hit. The young cleric, Stella, had her chestnut-brown hair set alight as it brushed against the molten metal!
Barrett charged forward with a roar, throwing an ice-blue scroll into the air. The sealed magic activated with a hiss, and the chill spread rapidly, barely extinguishing the flames on Stella's hair. However, most of her hair had already been burned away.
Ahead stood an elderly man, whose appearance resembled that of a vulture, along with about ten or so others, most likely mages and swordsmen. They were all stunned, seemingly unable to comprehend where Barrett had come from.
Barrett sensed something was wrong. He looked up over the crowd in front of him and saw what was happening at the far end of the factory. A massive, dazzling magic circle was unfolding on the ground, and at the center of it was EeDeChi, bound by thousands of black chains.
He saw EeDeChi. EeDeChi saw him. And she also saw Sean and Stella, who had been temporarily saved and were now hanging precariously over the molten iron.
"You ignorant pests!" EeDeChi roared, her voice a thunderous growl. She straightened up like a spear, struggling to rise, tearing at the magical chains binding her. One by one, the unbreakable black chains shattered under her strength.
"QUICK! KILL HER!"
"PROTECT LORD ODYS!"
The swordsmen and mages panicked, charging toward the struggling EeDeChi, their swords and spells raining down on her.
EeDeChi stomped her foot hard against the ground, and cracks radiated out from the point of impact. The entire ground seemed to tear apart like shredded paper, and the earth itself split open, completely crumbling.
A force more powerful than the magic circle itself surged through the earth. The magical energy evaporated like steam under the scorching sun, instantly dissipating. The black chains that had bound her vanished in a puff of smoke. The adventurer captain was free.
Like a tiger breaking out of its cage, EeDeChi was unstoppable!
In the already unstable factory, dust and debris flew through the air as EeDeChi vanished from her original position, only to reappear in countless afterimages, the shadows left by her lightning-fast movements.
The deathly symphony reached its climax! Clovis, the necromancer puppet, had his head explode like a watermelon, scattering in pieces. Two heavily armored swordsmen, swords raised high, hadn't even brought their blades down before their chests were pierced by gaping holes. A mage's spine, along with his staff, snapped in half...
In less than two seconds, dozens of lives were snuffed out, and the factory was left with only five survivors: Sean, Stella, Barrett, EeDeChi, and the lone Odys Malcon Waverly.
Odys's legs shook as he watched EeDeChi, her hands dripping with blood, walk toward him step by step. It felt like death itself was closing in on him. He barely managed to hold onto his last shred of willpower, convincing himself not to kneel. He still had one final card to play.
Odys took a deep breath and slid a beautifully engraved short sword from his sleeve. This was the divine artifact granted to him by the Sorcerer Kingdom—unstoppable, capable of cutting through anything, as sharp as a blade of steel, able to sever steel and stone!
He drew the sword, its cold gleam flashing as he lunged at EeDeChi with a fierce strike. He intended to use this supreme blade, gifted by Lord Ainz, to kill the grim reaper before him!
But EeDeChi simply grabbed the sharp blade with one hand, snapping it in half like a cookie. She tossed the broken pieces aside and grabbed Odys by the throat, lifting him off the ground like a mere chick.
"No... this can't be happening..." Odys's feet left the ground as he struggled helplessly. His eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at the broken sword in his hand, releasing his grip and letting the pieces fall to the floor.
His eyes glazed over, confusion, bewilderment, and hesitation swirling in his pupils... before they gave way to realization, then despair, and finally, a bitter sorrow.
"Turns out..." He grabbed EeDeChi's arm, which was choking his own throat, and spoke with difficulty, "Turns out... you're the same as Ainz Ooal Gown!"
A blood-red swirl appeared in EeDeChi's eyes. She neither confirmed nor denied his words.
"Cough... cough..." Odys gasped for breath, struggling to speak. "No wonder... I calculated everything... the only mistake I made... was underestimating your strength!"
His pupils suddenly dilated, his eyes fixed on EeDeChi, and a smile—almost unnoticeable—curled at the corners of his lips. It was the expression of a dying man savoring his last moments of madness.
Odys said intermittently, "I see you... how pathetic, how laughable... You have the power of a god, yet you hang out with a bunch of stray cats, which led to you being forced into submission… too scared to move. Haha... haha. Do you really think... those stray cats... will be grateful to you?"
His voice cracked as he used every last bit of his strength to scream, "I CURSE YOU! I CURSE YOU! I... CURSE YOU! YOU WILL SUFFER... BECAUSE OF THOSE STRAY CATS! I CURSE—"
Before he could finish, the sharp tip of a sword suddenly protruded from his chest.
Barrett stood behind him, gripping a long sword. With a swift motion, he thrust it into Odys's chest, then twisted the blade 360 degrees, grinding Odys's heart into pieces.
Blood sprayed from the horrific wound in his chest, a drop splashing onto EeDeChi's chin, red as falling plum blossoms.
Odys's lips bled as his body twitched, spasming in the final moments. Eventually, his body went limp, and he breathed his last.
EeDeChi dropped Odys's lifeless body, watching as the pool of blood beneath him slowly expanded.
She wiped the blood from her chin, muttering under her breath:
"How unlucky."