Chapter 10: Quest 5: Defeat the Skeleton Lord [Part 2]
Light flared within the Skeleton Lordâs mouth.
“You bastard!”
“ââââ!”
The shockwave erupted, and a thunderous roar echoed from above.
The blast pierced straight through the ceiling.
“…That hurts!”
Makoto gritted his teeth.
His left hand was gone.
Blood spurted from the severed wrist.
He had paid that price when he drove his palm up under the Skeleton Lordâs jaw just before it released the shockwave.
If he had known it would cost him this much, he might have hesitated.
“Ooooooooo!”
He roared to rally himself and slammed his right fist into the side of the armor.
A hard resistance answered him.
He glanced down.
The armor was only slightly blackened.
He could easily pierce a Skeleton Generalâs armor now, yet this only darkened.
Then he would just keep hitting it until it broke.
He raised his fist againâ
Impact tore through his body.
He was hurled into a pillar.
He tried to stand, but his legs would not respond.
“Bind!”
Yukaâs voice rang out.
Bands of light shot forward.
But the Skeleton Lord accelerated faster than they could reach it.
Its right arm had fully regenerated.
It gripped its sword and swung.
Makoto was certain he would die.
Yet death did not come.
The blade passed before his eyes.
It had missed.
He kicked off the floor to gain distance.
Silver flashed.
Heat exploded across his abdomen.
“Bind!”
Light shot forward again, but the Skeleton Lord cut through it and charged, slashing wildly.
Graceful would be generous, but the blade grazed him again and again.
Before he knew it, he was on the defensive.
No moves left, he admitted through the agony.
He could keep up with it.
But he had no way to finish it.
The Skeleton Lord stepped in and brought the sword down.
He kicked off instinctively, but the blade split him from shoulder to side.
He landed and dropped to one knee.
“Bind!”
Light wrapped around the Skeleton Lord once more.
“Run!”
“…I want to.”
His pants were soaked with blood.
Probably fatal.
With no healing except through leveling up, the only option was victory.
How do I win?
He looked up at the Skeleton Lord.
“…Damn it.”
He spat softly.
The blackened patch on the armor was gone.
It had regeneration too.
If the arm could regrow, the armor likely could as well.
He needed enough power to shatter it in one blow.
“…Stronger than this?”
He looked down at his right hand.
An idea surfaced.
He had been compressing the flames that burst from him.
What if he increased the volume?
If he drew out the maximum and compressed itâ
Could it pierce the armor?
“Can I?”
He asked himself and laughed.
If not, he would just die.
“Ignition!”
Black flames surged from his right arm.
More, he willed.
The flames roared higher, engulfing half his body.
“What are you doing?!”
He ignored Yuka.
The Skeleton Lord had stopped moving, watching warily.
He pictured the flames.
Wild, raging flames that consumed everything.
But they did not grow.
Then memories surfaced.
Failing to enter university.
Desperate job hunting.
Power harassment.
Handling customer complaints.
A brief, fragile peace with his girlfriend.
Separation.
Hatred toward his brother and his family.
And that night.
He only wanted to be ordinary.
Ordinary university.
Ordinary job.
Ordinary life.
That was all.
Why was that denied to him?
“…Donât screw with me.”
The words slipped out.
Thick emotion surged upward.
Anger.
Anger at the world that surrounded him.
“…Donât f*ck with me.”
Anger had always been there.
Buried deep.
Held down to prevent eruption.
But it never faded.
It burned like magma waiting to explode.
“Donât f*ck with me!”
He let it burst.
Black flames erupted from his entire body, clinging like molten magma.
“…Converge.”
The flames gathered into his right fist.
Thenâ
A high-pitched crack.
Pain lanced upward.
It felt as though red-hot tongs were stirring his nerves.
“Ghhâ!”
He looked down.
His right middle fingerâup to the first jointâwas coated in something glossy like obsidian.
The compressed flame had materialized.
This could kill it.
He knew it.
To do that, at least all five fingers must be covered.
But even one finger brought unbearable pain.
If all five were coveredâ
“…Ha.”
He laughed.
If he failed, he would die.
“More! More!”
He threw his head back and roared.
Flames erupted endlessly, solidifying.
Pain devoured his thoughts.
“It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!”
He collapsed, clutching his right arm.
The agony made him want to cut it off.
He regretted his decision seconds ago.
If this was the price, death would have been easier.
Yes.
Why had he decided he didnât want to die?
He raised his head.
The Skeleton Lord lifted its sword.
“…Haha.”
He laughed hollowly.
He almost longed for death.
Like holding back climax.
If the blade split his skull, how good would it feel?
A peak worth trading his life for.
The sword came down.
But no ecstasy arrived.
Only pain as his left arm was sliced lengthwise.
He stared at the split limb and giggled.
“HehâheheâHahaha!”
He laughed until his throat tore.
This was who he was.
Pathetic.
Claiming death would be better, yet shrinking when it came.
Flames surged again, converging on his right arm.
With cracking sounds, the flames solidified, covering it.
When they subsided, his right arm was clad in jet-black armor to the elbow.
The pain had not vanished.
“Yeehaw!”
He chopped through the blade embedded in his left arm and stood on shaking legs.
The Skeleton Lord retreated cautiously.
“Hehehe!”
Makoto stumbled forward and brought his blade-like hand down.
The Skeleton Lord raised its shield.
The black blade cut through the shieldâs supporting arm as well.
He closed in and thrust forward with all five fingers spread.
His hand pierced the armor effortlessly.
“…Huh?”
His mind snapped back to clarity.
There was no resistance.
He tore the armor open.
No red core beneath it.
“!?”
At that instant, the Skeleton Lord fired a shockwave.
He raised his right hand in front of him.
It blasted him backward.
It felt like his shoulder had been torn off.
But his right arm remained.
The agony still raged.
He gritted his teeth and punched.
After slight resistance, the skull shattered to dust.
The upper body staggered.
“Did we get it?”
He turned.
The Skeleton Lord stood headless, one arm gone.
Cracking sounds.
Regeneration began.
“What is going on?!”
“Donât ask me!”
Makoto shouted back.
“…Is it reallyâ”
She swallowed the word immortal.
If it were truly immortal, it would not need subordinates outside.
“There has to be a trick.”
“What trick?!”
“You think too!”
He tried to think.
The pain scattered his thoughts.
“Damn, my right arm.”
“What about your left?”
“Nothing compared to this.”
It was a miracle he remained sane.
“…Itâs just a little help.”
Yuka held her hand over his right arm.
Pale blue light shone.
The pain dulled slightly.
Enough to think.
He replayed its behavior.
Too many inconsistencies.
Why block Flame Bullet when it could dodge?
Why not dodge Yukaâs spells?
Why miss that swing?
“Following the trope, the red coreâs probably hidden somewhere else.”
Yuka said casually.
Villains that donât die from ultimate attacks often separate their weak points.
Then where?
“The throne!”
“The throne!”
They shouted in unison.
“Yuka!”
“Magic Bullet!”
Her spell shattered the throne.
Beneath it lay a massive red sphere.
Makoto dashed forward.
The Skeleton Lord pursued desperately, ignoring Yuka.
Proof enough.
“Too late!”
He brought his right arm down with everything he had.
The sphere exploded.
Behind him, bones clattered apart.
“Man, Iâm beat.”
He exhaled heavily and collapsed.
Fatigue crushed him.
From wounds.
From overusing flame.
“Itâs over, right?”
“No idea.”
Yuka clicked her tongue and removed her scarf.
She knelt and tied his left arm tightly.
“The Voice?”
“Now that you mention it, I donât hear it.”
An error?
“Youâll die.”
“Guess so.”
He pulled out a Marlboro and a Zippo.
“You idiot, at a time like this?”
“…Whatâs the harm?”
He lit it, drew in smoke, and immediately choked.
So this body couldnât smoke anymore.
His vision swayed.
At first he thought it was blood loss.
“An earthquake?”
Yukaâs voice corrected him.
The shaking intensified.
The temple might collapse.
“Whatâs happening?!”
“How should I know?”
“Weâre leaving.”
“Yeah… canât.”
“Donât say that!”
She ducked under his left arm and stood.
“Shouldnât it be the right?”
“No way Iâm touching that right arm that sliced that monster apart! What if I die?!”
“Fair point.”
They staggered toward the exit.
He could barely stand.
Yet she refused to leave him.
“…Youâre actually a good person.”
“Iâm not the kind who abandons a comrade!”
“Not many like you.”
He laughed softly.
“What are you laughing at?”
“I just think… I got lucky.”
“How?!”
She snapped.
The stone floor cracked.
Pillars collapsed.
A massive rock pierced the ceiling and shattered.
Thenâ
Cracks appeared in empty air.
“What is this?”
They spread like glass fracturing.
The space warped, then shattered.
Beyond it was darkness.
“…Itâs not glass.”
Makoto muttered.
As if an image drawn on glass had been broken.
Space collapsed.
Darkness expanded.
Only the ground beneath them remained.
“What now?”
“No clue.”
The footing gave way.
Makotoâs consciousness faded.
Just before he blacked out, he thought he heard the Voice.