Chapter Thirty-Seven: Leader of the Living Dead

On the way here, it seemed as though we had forgotten the most important matter.

I asked, “Aside from those twisted corpses, what strange sorcery does Kolov possess?”

Clockwork replied, “I don’t know.”

Don’t know? Yet he and Solace were clearly terrified of Kolov, but knew nothing of his secrets?

I spoke cautiously, “Kolov is enigmatic—a dangerous adversary. We need intel, a strategy.”

Clockwork said, “He commands those deformed corpses like hunting hounds. Isn’t that enough?”

I said, “Alright. Myrsel and I excel at swordplay and can strike at close range, even without direct contact. We have some defensive capabilities, though our stamina is limited. I’m skilled in stealth; Myrsel is better in frontal combat. What about you two?”

Clockwork raised his hand; I watched as it twisted with serpentine agility. He said, “With the fire of the netherworld, I can reshape my body to some extent. I can dodge bullets, strike like a viper.”

His explanation came as a pleasant surprise.

Solace plucked a few strands of her hair, tossed them out, and pierced a section of wall full of holes. She said, “You’ve seen my abilities, remember?”

Simply put, these siblings possessed extraordinary vitality and stamina, and were formidable warriors with supernatural powers. I had to keep them, whatever the cost.

Myrsel finally seemed to trust them. “Langy, tell me the enemy’s distribution.”

I said, “Five on the first floor, six on the second, five on the third. They don’t converse; the ones on the first and second floors seem distracted.”

Myrsel asked, “Distracted?”

I replied, “Yes. They’re sitting motionless. They must be Blood Pact Mercenaries, unwillingly working for Kolov.”

Kolov was innately repugnant; the Blood Pact Mercenaries perhaps served him out of fear or greed, but could not be truly loyal. Myrsel and I still suffered effects from the nether fire; Kolov’s must be even stronger, even more hateful.

Myrsel said, “Kolov is likely on the top floor. I, Solace, and Clockwork will breach from the front and draw their attention. You’ll slip upstairs invisibly and either assassinate Kolov with Mjolnir or prioritize rescuing Salvator.”

I sighed, “I’m out of potions, but I can scale the back wall.”

Clockwork said, “I’m adept at infiltration.”

Myrsel said, “Good. We’ll deal with the mercenaries quickly, then meet you upstairs.”

It was a crude plan, but we had no time for refinement.

Dawn approached, the darkness thick, the moonlight gone. The mercenaries were likely drowsy. We reached the villa’s edge with ease. I studied the wall: a sunlight-resistant material resembling a black coffin, smooth but not hard to climb. I found a foothold, balanced myself with Sakura’s art, and pressed upward. Years as a scavenger made me proficient at this.

Clockwork moved like a gecko, soundlessly scaling five meters in an instant. His hand elongated, truly serpentine, wrapping around me and lifting me upward. Embarrassed, I gestured that help wasn’t needed, but he insisted, moving us higher.

Suddenly, a voice below shouted, “Intruders!” Gunfire erupted chaotically, followed by heavy bodies hitting the ground. Second-floor mercenaries rushed down. I glanced up at the third-floor window. Salvator hung from the ceiling, hands bound but alive. Several Blood Pact Mercenaries in leather aimed their guns at the doorway.

A short, red-clad man with cropped hair sat with his back to me, calmly in his chair. He was gaunt, as if starved for years—a refugee. He said, “Why are you just standing there? Go check the situation.”

It was Kolov’s voice; his accent awkward, words halting, yet chillingly cold.

Clockwork smashed the glass, his arm thick as a fire hose, nails sharp as blades, lunging for Kolov’s skull. Kolov raised his hand, gripping Clockwork’s wrist, not even turning around, laughing loudly. “I know you, child. Your favorite trick is always a sneak attack…”

Before he finished, Mjolnir had already cleaved into Kolov’s flesh. That electromagnetic longsword, able to cut gold and jade, stopped inside his body—I couldn’t slice him in two.

It was his bones. His bones were impossibly hard.

Kolov cried out in pain, releasing Clockwork. The mercenaries turned, firing at us. I used Iron Lotus to deflect bullets, hiding behind a cabinet. Clockwork’s movements flowed like water, body twisting at impossible angles. As he claimed, bullets could not touch him.

Kolov, panting, burst into laughter. “So it’s a feint? I never thought a human could endure your nether fire.”

Clockwork shouted, “I’ll handle Kolov; the rest is yours!”

I answered, “Your family, your call.”

Clockwork’s arm lashed out, wrapping around Kolov, his skin hardening, while his other arm gleamed metallic, slicing at his foe like a guillotine. Kolov braced outward, forcing Clockwork’s arm away. Clockwork’s blade struck, clanging against metal, but Kolov was unscathed, laughing as he escaped Clockwork’s grasp.

The three mercenaries fired at me. I used Iron Lotus to block a volley, then unleashed Mind Blade, killing one. The other two shouted, “Damn it…” I accelerated with Sakura’s art, stabbing the second, then slid forward, Mjolnir scorching the third to a smoking ruin.

Kolov said, “You’re naïve. Ridiculous, really.”

I slashed, suddenly changing to an angled cut, striking Kolov’s wounded spot again. He grimaced, but still laughed. “Just fancy tricks. I thought you’d be smart enough to use the divine sword’s projectile.”

His bones again blocked the Thunder Blade, and its current couldn’t burn him.

Kolov rushed at me. In panic, I launched the Radiant Hand. Our fists met midair, shattering the wall behind us. I screamed in pain; Kolov was unruffled.

Clockwork surged forward, swift and agile, his arm vibrating multiple times in a second, nails like snake fangs striking Kolov. Kolov’s skin bore scars, but his bones were invulnerable. Enduring the assault, Kolov laughed, “Where does your laughable courage come from, child? Remember what your bomb did to me?”

Kolov’s exposed black bone extended, slicing Clockwork’s arm off. Clockwork clutched his wound, retreating with gritted teeth. I shouted, “Are you alright?”

Clockwork said, “I’m a living corpse. This is nothing. Cover me a moment.” He grabbed his severed arm, reattaching it as if it could heal.

I launched Mind Blade, attacking Kolov fiercely. Kolov’s elbows sprouted bone, deflecting the Mind Blade, retreating step by step, his face still mocking. I knew he was fearless; even when Clockwork’s trap had destroyed his flesh, his bones kept him alive.

Just then, Myrsel and Solace appeared at the door. Solace transformed her hair with nether fire into sharp needles, piercing Kolov’s back. At the same instant, Myrsel’s Mind Blade struck Kolov. Kolov fell, scrambled up—the laughter gone, replaced by fury.

He opened his mouth, screamed shrilly—like a crow with its throat slit.

Solace cried, “Be careful! He’s releasing nether fire, summoning twisted corpses!”

In an instant, it felt as though the house was cursed. Every corner seemed filthier and fouler than a cesspit; slimy mud mixed with sewage slicked the walls and floor, making me nauseous. I realized it was an illusion and steeled my will, yet my muscles felt intensely uncomfortable. Myrsel was in the same state; the nether fire hindered us.

Kolov gritted his teeth. “Arrogant, venomous humans! I approached you with humility, but you repaid me with cruelty! I yearned for your salvation, but you gave me only contempt and rejection! Now? Now it’s my turn—my turn to crush you like vermin, to toy with you like cattle!”

He punched through the floor, dropping below. I reacted instantly, slicing open the ground with Thunder Blade and falling after him.

Kolov attacked me with his black-boned elbow blade; I countered with Ochid’s techniques, forcing him back, barely escaping injury.

Around me, the dead mercenaries rose, transforming into monstrous abominations. They snarled hungrily, like hounds, yet their faces remained human, drooling with vicious growls.

Kolov laughed. “Humans are just dogs! I showed you mercy, and you beat me bloody. I longed for acceptance, but you drove me into a sea of blood with your knives! Who gave you that right? From now on, I swear I’ll never be human again!”

A twisted corpse lunged, jaws open, forelimbs grabbing my shoulder. I struck with Mjolnir, its stench dizzying me.

Myrsel appeared suddenly, stabbing thrice to pin the twisted corpse before me. He helped me up, saying, “Hold on.”

I answered, “Careful!” and slashed down an attacking corpse hound.

Kolov chased Solace and Clockwork, his speed and strength terrifying. Though not skilled in combat, aided by the swarm of twisted corpses, the siblings were in grave peril.

I glanced at Kolov, spoke quickly, “I have a plan.”

Myrsel shouted, “Then hurry!”

I said, “My Radiant Hand can turn steel into gold. Maybe I can break his spine.”

Myrsel asked, “How do you have so many tricks?”

I shouted, “I don’t know—maybe it’s protagonist privilege.”

Myrsel asked, “What does that mean?”

Honestly, I couldn’t explain.

I said, “You must cover me for a moment, then use ‘Shepherd’ to pin him for even a second.”

Myrsel roared, “Go!” In an instant, he unleashed Sakura and Stone Fir, slaying twisted corpses. I broke through, charging Kolov. Kolov was commanding his twisted corpses; when he noticed me, I was almost upon him.

Myrsel deployed Mind Blade; Kolov suddenly faltered. I thrust my right hand into his old wound, shouting, “What works once, works again!”

Kolov struck me; I tumbled hard to the ground. The twisted corpses swarmed, but Solace and Clockwork rescued me together.

I saw Kolov’s face contorted, kneeling on one knee, then collapsing. His spine had indeed been destroyed by me.