Ihoujin, Dungeon ni Moguru

Chapter 128: To The Capital Of Ice And Death III

Chapter 128: To The Capital Of Ice And Death III

After being swung around, I was slammed down onto the hardened snow.

My left leg had been broken slightly below the joint. Fortunately, my shattered bones didn’t break the skin.

The wolves????rushed me with their claws and fangs bared.

Instinctively, I shielded my throat and face with my arms. In the blink of an eye, my entire body was torn to shreds, my blood and flesh splattering all over the white around me.

This is probably what being thrown into a washing machine with blades on the inside feels like.

It's strange.

Heat and pain shot through all my nerves. I felt the strength leave my muscles. Death raced towards me, a split second away from reaching my vitals.

Strangely, my head is clear and calm.

Come to think of it, I always become calmer the closer to death I am.

Even though I have a death wish, when I'm about to die, every part of me struggles to stay alive, to obtain the information necessary for survival. If there's nothing that can be done, I’ll simply give up, but somehow or another, I've managed to survive until this day.

What an ironic trait.

Oh, could it be that, deep down, I’m??

?Gah!?

I decided that I was going to kill one wolf.

I chose the one that had sunk its fangs into my side. I had no idea how I was able to do it, but I jammed my fingers into its earhole and yanked out its semicircular canals. I then thrust my hand into the gaping hole I had made and crushed its brain.

When I snapped its neck, its fangs came free.

Luckily for me, the wolves around me pulled back.

Slowly, I drew Zamonglass' sword. The blood and brain fluid froze my hand to its hilt.

It's just as well, since I need the sword to stay in my grip.

Now, let's do this.

I heard growling. I thought it was the wolves at first, but it wasn't. It was me.

I don't remember what I was referring to at the time, but I remember thinking these words to myself some time ago.

Beasts show their true colors when they’re wounded.

If so, then I guess, deep down, I’m a beast.

However, I possess the shame of humans. Because I am human, want to be human, I have a heart that feels shame for being a beast.

But I wonder……

Why do I feel this way?

?Ha, HAHAHAHAHA!?

Why do I lose it at the sight of blood?

It can't be someone else's blood. It has to be my own blood. Otherwise, I won't get as worked up as this.

The bleeding from the deep wound in my side showed no signs of letting up despite the temperature being cold enough to freeze blood. I had a broken left leg, bruises all over my body, and too many lacerations to count. In addition, my glasses weren't working. Its power supply had gotten damaged, so it was totally done for. Because of the broken shards, my vision on my left side was blurry and I had trouble making things out.

Then, there was the pain.

Pain that told me that I was still alive was transmitted to me by every nerve in my body.

But that doesn't matter, not right now.

That's no more than a piece of information. I have other priorities.

The snow erupted.

The beasts bared their fangs and charged. I killed the first one before it could reach me, then cut off the head of another with the return slash of my blade. Three more beasts charged at me, and I successfully countered all their attacks, staining the snow with the spray of blood.

Even if we're all beasts, my claw is longer, thicker, and sharper.

The sixth one bit down on my sword. I was no match for it in terms of sheer physical strength. Not with only one leg.

Another one lunged at me from my left.

I flipped the scabbard of my katana over.

With its edge facing downward, I drew it backhanded. It helped that the opening of the scabbard had frozen stiff.

It was a one-handed but 100 points iai-draw.

After a split second, the wolf's body slid apart, becoming nothing more than steaming flesh and blood. I stabbed the wolf that had clamped its jaws around my sword with the tip of my katana and pried it off.

The wolves began to stalk in a circle around me and the corpses of their comrades. Their numbers had increased even more.

Fifty, or is it a hundred? Well, the number doesn't matter. I'm the vassal of a man who took on an army of ten thousand alone. A pack of a mere hundred or two hundred beasts is nothing.

?I mean……?

Even though they're just beasts, they're being wary.

They're observing the situation.

I've already pulled out my claw and my fang, but this is making me lose steam. I could go on the offensive, but my leg is broken. Furthermore, if I move my upper body excessively, it’ll cause the wound in my side to open up.

If possible, I should try to take them all out using counters only……………… Haha, I should stop. This is ridiculous. Cunning tricks won't work on them.

If I just think for a moment, no no no, it's obvious even without doing that.

I took off the now-useless glasses-type device and crushed it under my foot.

Now, I'm completely alone.

There’s no one here, no one watching. Alone, I'm free to do whatever I want.

Well, what do you know.

All that talk about shame, but aren't there nothing but beasts here?

?Hey?

First, one step.

I dragged my broken foot forward.

The joint still worked, but I couldn’t put any weight on that leg. I was feeling dizzy from all the blood I had lost. The left side of my vision had gone completely dark.

But so what?

I still possess all of my limbs. My blades still hold the power to cause instant death. The flames inside me still haven’t died. I still haven’t died. I won’t die. As if I’ll die in a place like this, by the fangs of these guys.

I have a place to return to.

No matter how I end up, I have a home to go back to, and a woman with whom I've made a promise to return. I have a daughter I must go pick up.

So, you know, you guys are……

?In my wayyy!?

The wolves howled in unison.

Their howls summoned more of their comrades. Another pack of wolves emerged from the snowstorm.

Who cares?

All I have to do is slay all enemies that come within range of my blade.

The wolves launched themselves at me the very same moment I slashed at them.

A katana against their claws, and a sword against their fangs.

The wolves were drawn into a lopsided dance of blades. One slash, one kill, and the sprays of blood and gore caused flowers of red to bloom on the field of snow.

It's just beast against beast at this point.

I took pleasure in setting the beast inside me free and taking the lives of others.

There was beauty in my moves only in the beginning. In no time at all, I went from slashing them to death to beating them to death, and my bars of steel, covered in blood and gore, went from being bladed weapons to blunt instruments.

The hunt turned gruesome and brutal.

The beasts had amazing vitality. Even if one half of their heads were smashed in, they wouldn't die right away. Even if their eyeballs were dangling from their sockets, they would still try to bite me. Even if their limbs were crushed, they wouldn't stop charging at me. Though I suffered more wounds from their attacks, I soon became accustomed to beating them to death.

If anything, killing them in this way feels much easier. No, I think it has always been this way.

Relying on brute force is a primal technique. Smashing, crushing, and making the insides splatter out for all to see.

This is a fight caked in the blood and filth of beasts.

There is no honor in it. Not one shred of my sole virtue, the sense of pride in devoting myself to the shadows, can be found. It's just kill, kill, and kill. It's the kind of fight that's befitting of a beast.

And it will continue until all the beasts that wash out blood with blood are dead and the flames have burned out.

The end?????

White darkness engulfed everything further than an inch in front of me.

All I could see was white and the only thing I could hear was the howling of the wind.

The air was deadly cold and the wind was like a flat blade of ice plunging deep into my body.

My limbs were as numb as wood, and only my internal organs were working frantically to maintain my body temperature. It was freezing outside and unpleasantly damp inside.

Dragging my broken left leg, I crawled through the knee-deep snow at a snail's pace.

Steam rose from the blood as it continued to pour from the hole in my side. My mouth tasted of iron. I gasped desperately for air, but only managed to inhale oxygen properly once every three attempts. My lips quivered. My lungs began to freeze. White darkness and black darkness alternated before my eyes.

Drowsiness soothed the pain in my body and tried to take over my mind. “Rest, it's okay to take it easy,” it whispered sweetly.

It's possible that I'm just going around in circles in the same spot. That’s a devastating thought, but my steps won't falter because this is my way of fighting.

If I'm going to die, I want to die falling forward.

That's how a man should die.

But nature is so unforgiving, and people are so puny in comparison. This is a sobering experience. If I make it back alive, it will definitely serve me well in future.

Yes.

If I can survive this, I believe that it will be a good experience.

My chances are pretty bleak though.

?I really???????

I can't find Neomia.

It's just an endless expanse of white wherever I look. I've lost my bearings.

That’s not good.

My right leg has also stopped working. My left foot, which I had been putting all my weight on, is bent in a weird way. It's frozen so I can't be sure if the bones are just broken or completely shattered.

I slumped into the heavy snow and was enveloped in a reassuring warmth.

Even so,

I crawled forward, clawing at the snow with my right hand, which was still clutching my sword. I looked blankly at my hand and saw that my nails had grown abnormally thick and were bulging out like claws.

Oh, I was right.

On the verge of death, my mind becomes clear.

I now understand the mechanism behind the Endguard.

This entire field of snow is a seedbed for wolves. It's a system where you become one of them whether you die or are killed. How ironic it is that they're called the warriors of the end(dead)[1]. Bastards.

I can nullify it using Misuranika-sama's power, but her power is neither complete nor everlasting. Right now, it's just the nails on my right hand, but it's only a matter of time. I too will become a single white wolf. Or maybe a wandering beast-headed monster, I suppose.

It's not exactly something I can laugh about.

Although my brain still works, I can no longer move a single muscle in my body.

Is this the end for me? This is the worst and most malicious death I could have ever imagined. I suppose this is what I get for trampling on the wishes and concerns of others.

I'm starting to have trouble thinking straight.

I desperately opened my eyes wide and stared at the snow. But my resistance was futile. My eyelids fell shut, and white turned to darkness.

A deep and comfortable sleep, the sleep demon that heralds the end, is coming.

I’m powerless to resist it.

My body has stopped listening to my will, and even my consciousness is trying to drift far away.

I want to go back.

Even so, I wish with all my heart that I can go back.

To those girls, but Maria??????

I couldn't care less about a trivial thing like that.

My consciousness drifted away.

To a place I can never go back to.

[1] They’re called “Endguard”, which is written in “English”, but you can see how it’s just a combination of End and Guard. So they can be considered guards/guardians/warriors of End/the end. “End/the end” also being a reference to death, since death is the end of all living things. And as you can see, that reference is also used all over this chapter. Hence tldr: Their name Endguard can be taken as “warriors of the dead”, which is what they are as the wolves are all dead people.

Now you know how the prologue came to be! It felt really cool to me when I recognized it as I was reading.

Barfuru also mentioned it in the previous chapter, but yeah, those wolves are the Endguard. But somehow, aren’t some things not lining up? Wait, who was it that Souya got most of the info he knows about the Endguard from again? Huh, interesting, isn’t it? I remind you again that everything is from Souya’s perspective and what he thinks is the truth may not necessarily be true at all. This is the trickiest part of the unreliable narrator style, and it’s something I think this author is simply amazing at.

Oh, by the way, I know that “the fire inside me” is much more natural, but just let this one slip by this time, okay? (~_^)

Still, what a cliffhanger, huh?! The last sentence is so ominous! And who was it who found Souya there at the end?! And the plot is going to barrel forward at breakneck speed next chapter. So stay tuned!!!