Episode 137. Grand Archbishop of Desire, Laktasia (3)

Whoosh!

The ash fire begins to burn, wrapping around the body.

Thick gray smoke flows out from the pores, swirling violently.

“You….”

Laktasia narrows her eyes and gazes at Dale, who is engulfed in flames.

“Hmph. So, you can pull off a few tricks, huh?”

She crosses her arms and sneers.

“But….”

With a bitter smile.

“Do you really think that’s enough to defeat me?”

Despite the overwhelming aura, the magic power emanating from this “Dale” kid wasn’t much.

At best, it was comparable to a hero ranked around 100th.

While not insignificant in the grand scheme of heroes, to her, a “Grand Archbishop,” it was utterly trivial.

“Didn’t they teach you in school? Unless you’re a hero in the top 5, you shouldn’t recklessly draw your sword in front of a Grand Archbishop.”

“Well, I guess I missed that lesson.”

Dale swallows a chuckle and raises his sword.

“I wasn’t exactly a top student.”

Thud!

He kicks off the ground and charges.

“Oh? Then I guess this big sister will have to give you a supplementary lesson!”

Laktasia swings the whip in her hand.

The whip, wrapped in purple magic, roars through the air, aiming for Dale’s neck.

The clash of sword and whip.

Clang!

A louder metallic sound echoes compared to before.

Crack!

The sword in his hand shatters into pieces.

“Oh my~ What now? Your sword’s broken.”

Laktasia doesn’t miss the opportunity and swings her whip.

Swoosh!

The sharp spikes at the tip of the whip aim for Dale’s neck.

Dale reaches out toward the rapidly approaching whip.

Berald Martial Arts.

Sword Breaker.

Crack!

With a magic-infused hand, he grabs and snaps the spikes on the whip.

The broken shards dig into his palm.

Dale slowly raises his bleeding hand and lets out a faint laugh.

“If it breaks, I’ll just make a new one.”

Drip, drip.

The blood flowing down his palm takes the shape of a sword.

Demon Sword Veskal.

A demonic sword that grants immense power in exchange for its owner’s blood emits an eerie glow.

“Hmm… Is it okay for a hero to use something like that?”

Laktasia frowns, sensing the familiar energy emanating from the demon sword.

“The weapon doesn’t make the hero.”

“Really, this brat won’t even let out a single curse.”

Tsk. Laktasia clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Let’s see how long that smug mouth of yours can last!”

Laktasia draws in her magic.

The whip in her hand surges with deep purple magic.

“Die!”

With a fierce cry, the whip lashes out.

Rumble!

The sound of the whip tearing through the air echoes like thunder.

Clang! Clash!

The sword and whip clash again.

As the battle continues, the smile on Laktasia’s lips grows deeper.

‘He should be running out of magic by now.’

The amount of magic she had already stolen through the Blessing of Exploitation surpassed that of a typical top-ranked hero.

Based on what she had sensed earlier, his magic should be nearing its limit…

Whoosh!

“Ugh!”

The flaming blade narrowly grazes her.

Laktasia frowns and looks at Dale.

‘Why is he still fine?’

The magic power flowing from Dale wasn’t depleting—it was almost the same as before.

No.

It even felt like it had increased slightly compared to the beginning.

“How is his magic not decreasing…?”

“Has it been about five minutes?”

“What?”

Dale checks the time on his Hero Watch.

“At Yuren’s speed, he should be arriving outside the ruins by now.”

“…Isn’t this a bad time to be worrying about that?”

“No, I should worry.”

Dale smiles deeply and places his hand on his left chest.

“Things might get messy if I’m not careful.”

Burn.

With a low murmur.

Whoosh!

Like a spark falling on dry wood.

The ash fire wrapping around Dale’s body erupts violently.

“What…!”

Laktasia’s eyes widen in shock.

The magic power emanating from him had instantly doubled… no, nearly tripled.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

Even though she had stolen his magic through the Blessing of Exploitation, why wasn’t his magic decreasing? Instead, it was increasing?

“Tch! Even so, all you’re doing is giving me more fuel to exploit!”

Laktasia snarls and swings her whip.

The whip imbued with the Blessing of Exploitation sharply targets Dale.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Magic continues to pour in through the Blessing of Exploitation.

As the attacks continue, her Holy Mark fills to the brim with magic, almost to the point of bursting.

“Huff, huff!”

Laktasia’s rough breaths escape her lips.

Though her Holy Mark was overflowing with magic, the amount of magic she could actually use was rapidly decreasing.

While both magic power and magic energy fundamentally originate from the Tree of Creation, and a simple conversion process would allow her to use it…

In the heat of battle, there was no time for even a “simple process.”

‘Why… why isn’t it decreasing?!’

Despite absorbing an immense amount of magic, the magic power flowing from Dale showed no signs of diminishing.

No, rather, it seemed to be increasing as the battle dragged on.

Yes, like…

“Ah, uh.”

An endless sea.

An infinite sky.

An eternally burning flame.

“Where the hell did this monster come from?!!”

Laktasia screams in despair.

Some might say she was careless.

‘How could anyone prepare for a monster like this falling out of the sky?’

It’s like telling someone to never go outside for fear of an earthquake.

Who could have predicted that a nameless hero party, not even ranked in the top 100, would contain such a monster?

A natural disaster.

Yes, to her, Dale was no different from a natural disaster she had stumbled upon.

“You damn bastard!”

Laktasia curses and swings her whip.

“Huh.”

Dale smirks and catches the whip mid-air.

With a rough tug, her body is pulled toward him.

Thud!

Dale’s fist lands squarely on Laktasia’s face.

“Gah!”

Laktasia coughs up blood and is sent flying backward.

“You, you, you…! You…!”

She clutches her cheek, her expression twisted.

“How dare you scar my beautiful face?!”

Grind.

Gnashing her teeth, Laktasia extends her hand.

A surge of purple magic erupts from her body, forming sharp spikes in the air.

“I’ll tear you to pieces!”

Swish, swish, swish!

A rain of purple spikes pours down from all directions.

Dale calmly watches the falling spikes and lets out a faint laugh.

“Honestly, it’s not even that great of a face, so why so angry?”

He slowly raises his sword, aiming at the falling spikes.

The burning ash fire gathers at the tip of the blade.

The ash fire condenses into a massive sphere, greedily sucking in everything around it.

Ash Fire Sword 3rd Form.

Flame Halberd.

Whoosh!

The blazing sphere of ash fire shoots toward Laktasia.

“Kyaaaah!”

Laktasia screams as she is swept away by the flames.

“Ah, uh….”

Laktasia clutches her tattered body, trembling as she looks at Dale.

“You… what are you?”

Even if she was the weakest among the Grand Archbishops in terms of pure combat power, that was only in comparison to other Grand Archbishops.

She had been confident she could easily handle any hero outside the top 5.

“How… how can some nobody I’ve never even heard of possess such absurd power?!”

She never imagined she would be so thoroughly crushed by a nameless hero who wasn’t even in the top 100.

“Tch!”

Desperately, she tries to squeeze out more magic and swings her whip.

Whoosh!

The burning ash fire greedily devours her whip.

The whip turns to ash and crumbles to the ground.

“Ah….”

Laktasia looks at Dale with trembling eyes.

Step, step.

Dale slowly walks forward.

The thick gray smoke hangs like fog.

The fiercely flickering flames.

The eerie green eyes glowing in the dark.

“Ah, uh.”

Clack, clack.

Her shoulders tremble violently.

A sticky sense of discomfort wraps around her.

A burning thirst scorches her throat.

‘I can’t win.’

She knew it instinctively.

This monster was fundamentally different from any hero she had ever seen.

Like rolling a 7 on a six-sided die.

Dale’s very existence defied all her common sense.

The moment she realized that.

An overwhelming fear consumed her.

“Sp… spare me.”

She pleads in a trembling voice.

Desire for wealth, food, lust, sleep, vanity, possession…

There are countless types of desires.

But among them, the most basic and intense desire is the will to survive.

The desire to live.

The intense desire for life trampled over her pride.

“I’ll do anything you say!”

She clings to Dale’s leg, her expression desperate.

Thud.

Dale stops and looks down at Laktasia, who is sprawled on the ground.

“I’ll become your woman… okay? You’re dating that Iris girl, right? I’ll give you pleasures she could never match.”

“…….”

Laktasia glances up at Dale, a seductive smile on her lips.

Good, he’s hooked.

A glimmer of hope appears in Laktasia’s fear-filled eyes.

“How about it? A good deal….”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“…What?”

Laktasia’s expression turns to confusion.

“W-worried I might betray you? I can put on a binding spell….”

“No, that’s not it.”

Dale carefully examines Laktasia’s face.

Honestly, she wasn’t bad-looking.

But…

“It’s just… hmm.”

The faces of Iris and Yurina appear beside hers.

Comparing them side by side, it was clear.

“Your looks aren’t really worth the trouble.”

“…W-what did you say?”

Though phrased indirectly.

It essentially meant her looks weren’t good enough, right?

The pride she had built as the Grand Archbishop of Desire… no, as Laktasia, was utterly crushed.

“You, you, you bastard…!”

Thud.

As Laktasia lunges at him in a fit of rage, the ash fire-wrapped sword pierces through her.

“Gah, gah!”

Laktasia’s body turns to black ash and scatters.

“Phew.”

Dale looks down at her ashen remains and slowly extinguishes the flames.

Unlike the last time he lost control, the fiercely burning ash fire gradually subsides under his will.

‘It was a bit of a childish revenge.’

Recalling Laktasia’s furious expression at the end, a faint smile escapes him.

Iris once told him that in the Seven Stars Scripture, there’s a teaching.

Revenge is a dark cloud that obscures the heart, while forgiveness is the sunlight that illuminates it.

“Bullshit.”

Feels damn good, though.