Wandering Mercenary in an Open World

Chapter 88

Shaa-

The snakes that lost their caster twisted their bodies and soon turned into ashes. In a light sense of liberation, Ruon turned his head and saw the monster centipede being struck by lightning.

At the moment when the monster’s body swayed greatly from the blazing lightning, Strabo agilely stepped on its torso and jumped up. He reached the monster’s head and slammed his hand, which had turned into a bear’s paw, with force.

Kroo-oo!

The monster, whose half of its face was caved in by the powerful blow, shook its body with all its might. In the wind, Strabo, who was preparing for the second attack, lost his balance and fell. Then, Igor and Tarwen moved respectively.

The light that radiated from the priest’s body after finishing his prayer swept over the monster’s body, and the fairy’s spell slowed down the falling dwarf’s speed like a fluttering feather.

Kwoong!

Finally, the monster fell to the ground with its head buried. Strabo, who landed softly, gave a thumbs up and grinned.

“This is fun.”

Tarwen chuckled and quickly turned around and ran towards Ruon.

“Are you okay?”

“As you can see.”

“That’s good.”

At Ruon’s sullen response, she sighed with relief and looked around. The fairy, who found the three fallen witches, slowly opened her mouth.

“···The lunatics who were obsessed with role-playing are finally dead.”

“Role-playing?”

“They were the ones who took turns being the big sister or the youngest. They weren’t even real sisters.”

They’re all insane.

Ruon admired Tarwen’s mental strength, who had lived among these lunatics for twenty years.

Then, the others came from behind.

“What the hell is that monster? It’s so scary, I might dream of it. Really.”

Kyle, who put down his hammer and grumbled, looked like a paladin and a fool from the game he enjoyed a long time ago. Ruon smiled faintly. Ah, he’ll probably fall later.

“Don’t let your guard down, everyone. This is nothing but a greeting from Fleur.”

At Tarwen’s warning, Igor asked.

“Do you mean Fleur, not Yoram?”

“Fleur is Yoram, and Yoram is Fleur. The other witches, who have strong pride, may not admit it, but it was because of her that this group survived under the church’s pressure. She alone balanced the scales, and it’s not an exaggeration to say that.”

She glared at the spire with a fierce look and continued.

“···But now, I don’t care about that. Whether it’s Fleur or the great-grandfather of the devil inside, I’ll kill them.”

Before entering the spire, the group checked their weapons briefly. Igor poked Kyle’s side, who tightened the leather strap that protected his shin.

“Kyle, let’s pray to Mother.”

“···I did it after lunch.”

“Is that what you say as Mother’s sword? From now on, we’ll risk our lives with all kinds of special people···”

Kyle was startled and cut off his words.

“Stop, stop! I get it, so stop nagging. Merciful Mo···no, Mother-”

The group, who finished their strange preparation, arrived at the front of the huge spire.

Tarwen said.

“Normally, you have to go through a complicated process to open the door, but now you don’t have to bother.”

As soon as she finished her words, she stretched out both arms. Then, an intangible force exploded from her palm and smashed the iron door. As the loose hinges squeaked, Ruon stepped forward and kicked it.

With a bang, the dark darkness greeted the group beyond the flying iron door. She glared at the inside, which looked like the mouth of a giant monster, and said.

“Let’s go in.”

***

During the passage through the corridor, the group did not say anything. Above their heads, a light source created by Igor was illuminating the way with a faint light.

Ruon walked along the dark path, recalling the underground of the temple where Belducius had been crouching. He wondered if he had thought of that, as Kyle, Igor, and Strabo, who followed him, also had a slight tension on their faces.

“I hope they didn’t play any tricks on this corridor, too?”

Strabo’s worry was unfounded, as this corridor had no barriers that disturbed the senses. Instead, the walls that blocked the left and right disappeared, and a spacious lobby welcomed the group.

Igor looked at the light source floating in the air and said.

“This place is too wide to rely on this light. I need to make another one.”

Tarwen shook her head.

“No, you don’t.”

As soon as her words ended, flames sprang up from all sides. As dozens of torches burned away the darkness, the bright interior came into view belatedly.

Antique furniture, wall paintings with the touch of an artisan, sparkling chandeliers, and more.

The sight of the lobby was quite beautiful, but none of the group appreciated it. That was because dozens of eyes were looking down at them from the stairs.

Did they all crawl out?

Ruon lightly scanned the faces of the witches who were leaning on the railing of the second floor. There were almost thirty people at a glance.

Then, someone’s voice came in.

Per your request, I’ve translated and edited the provided text into English with a focus on third-person narrative. Here’s the revised version:

“Betrayal wasn’t enough; you had to bring filth into our sanctuary. Tarwen, there’s a limit to repaying kindness with enmity. Don’t you think you’ve gone too far?”

Perched precariously on the railing, the woman’s words were met with a low growl from Tarwen.

“Shut your mouth, Nadia. Unless you want to die as hideously as your dear friend.”

Nadia laughed sharply.

“Friend? Are you referring to Hella? Oh, poor Tarwen. To your trembling eyes, hidden away in a corner every day, we must have seemed like friends. How did you ever bear such jealousy?”

Despite the mockery, Tarwen moved her eyes calmly before speaking.

“It seems everyone but Fleur has gathered. Mad women, acting as if you could shatter the Grand Church with mere will, yet lacking the confidence to face the party that killed the archdemon?”

Unlike Tarwen, who ignored the taunts, the witches of the Cradle reacted vehemently to her provocation.

“That bitch!”

“Shall we beat her like old times, huh?”

“If it weren’t for Fleur, you would have died by my hand long ago! Understand? I’d have minced your flesh and fed it to the pigs right before your eyes—”

Crack!

A streak of white lightning struck the bald witch, who had been spewing particularly vile words. She fell back stiffly, her face blackened and smoking.

Well, well?

Luon let his arm, which had been cocked back to throw a dagger, fall to his side. He had been aiming for the bald witch’s face as well.

Having inadvertently taken the lead, Kyle shouted with bloodshot eyes.

“Can’t keep your mouth shut?”

Igor, who would normally have scolded him for his rough speech, seemed to make an exception this time, adding his voice with a gleaming look.

“Vile witch, spouting wicked words with your vulgar mouth. I, Igor, shall burn you all today with the will of the Mother.”

As his stern warning rang out, one of the enraged witches began to chant loudly, but a dagger sliced through the air and buried itself in her throat. The force was so great that she was flung backward as if struck by a hammer.

Luon, retrieving his dagger with an outstretched arm, commented,

“Experience points have all gathered on their own.”

At his calm voice, Nadia screamed in fury.

“Kill them!”

Dozens of witches unleashed a barrage of spells overhead. The projectiles, shining in various colors, were beautiful like shooting stars, but considering the evil power within, it was as if they had stepped into the midst of disaster.

The party was not idly standing by.

As Igor and Tarwen overlapped white and blue protective shields, Kyle raised the spellbreaker high to shield the party. A thunderous explosion followed, whitening the lobby with its light.

───!

The space, momentarily turned into a vacuum by the shock, was filled again by rushing air, creating a fierce whirlwind.

The witches, having protected themselves with shields, glared fiercely through the smoke-filled lobby.

“Are they dead?”

Then a mighty roar erupted.

Grrr!

Emerging from the settling dust was a massive beast, a mix of bear and wolf.

Its blue eyes glowed as it snarled, its body not only red-hot in places but also covered in tiny blisters. Despite the double shields and Kyle’s barrier, not all the spells’ vibrations could be blocked.

Strabo, who had transformed into a beast to protect the party, roared again into the air.

Grrr!

The witches, of course, did not take it lying down. As if to say the previous deaths were due to surprise, they agilely chanted spells to block incoming debris.

Among them were spells other than defense.

Arrows wrapped in flames, blood-red lightning that split into three, and a semicircular wind that shattered chandeliers.

Each attack was perilous, but the most dangerous was yet to come.

Screech!

A terrible scream rose from the stairs leading to the basement, and soon a tremendous number of corpses began to pile up.

They rushed on all fours toward the party, cornered in the lobby, baring rotten teeth and claws.

Kyle and Strabo fought back with a hammer and large paws, while Igor and Tarwen silently blocked the curses and spells.

Facing nearly thirty witches of the Cradle and an endless onslaught of corpses, they did not retreat an inch. However, they began to be pushed back by the overwhelming numerical advantage and powerful firepower of the opposition.

Boom!

In the midst of it all, Kyle sent a lightning bolt towards Nadia with a flashing gaze, but it only managed to melt the well-prepared witch’s protective shield.

Nadia shouted.

“Idiots! Did you think gathering five would change anything? This is the Cradle! No matter if you’re the slayers of the archdemon, nothing changes.”

Five?

She realized in an instant that her words were inappropriate and gasped in surprise.

“Why are there only four of them?”

At that moment, a scream erupted from beside her.

“Aaargh!”

Nadia turned her head sharply at the cold sensation crawling up her back and saw a man smashing the head of a witch against the wall in the distance.

The witch in his hand, named Cobel, had activated her shield, but she couldn’t withstand the force that pushed her back and her head was shattered, blood dripping from her eyes and nose.

“When did he…?”

The man and Nadia’s eyes met in midair. She felt an inexplicable fear from the calm gaze of the man and raised both hands with wicked flames.

“Die!”

The cursed flames that would burn the opponent to ashes once they touched flew towards the man like rays of light.

The man, Ruon, didn’t dodge. He still gripped the witch’s neck and thrust her forward.

“Kyaah!”

The witch, who had been pretending to be dead or had been limp, let out a scream filled with pain. Before the flames that melted her back could spread to his hand, Ruon threw the burning witch over the railing.

The flames that fell in the middle of the corpses spread like a wildfire and burned down to the basement, and Nadia was startled and cast a spell.

And in that short moment when she lifted her spell, another witch, Ankira, lost her neck.

She had tried to transform and fight back at the last moment, but something like a mantis’s foreleg protruded halfway from her torn back.

Nadia gritted her teeth and shouted at the sight of Ruon advancing without hesitation, swinging his bloodstained sword.

“Stop that bastard first! Now!”

That’s when it happened.

Crash!

A lightning bolt that flew with the force of a thunderbolt shattered Nadia’s shield and swept across her face.

“Huee-”

The witch, who was squeezing the air out of her lungs in agony, heard a clear voice from far away.

“Nothing has changed?”