NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: Tip of Cremation
It was the battling enshire, yet again.
Stealing his kills.
How cheap!
Hmph!
Dane rolled his eyes and quickly dismissed the blade.
The screen reappeared:
...
[Still active]
[Count: 1/4]
...
"Huh? There are more...?"
At that moment, five more canons came into view, all standing behind him. Their tails lunged for Dane, who had been momentarily distracted.
Anticipating this, he executed multiple backflips, summoning his blade mid-air.
"Let's play, trash."
Instantly, the enshire rushed to eliminate one, but Dane refused to let Mr. Fast claim all the glory.
He leapt in, blocking the enshire's blade from slashing one of the canons' heads, then struck.
...
[Count: 2/4]
...
"What is this fool doing?" the short one asked.
"I think he's preventing the enshire from killing the creature so he can," a more astute Descent replied.
Still...
"What...?"
The short one scowled.
Dane continued his strategy, blocking the enshire's attacks and dispatching the canons himself until only one remained.
This time, the enshire escalated its efforts.
Remarkably, it didn't perceive Dane as an enemy, despite his interruptions. It remained silent, seemingly incapable of speech.
This was the purpose of the useless one, now vanquished.
As Dane attempted to thwart the enshire's assault, aiming for the Canon's head, he realized it had shifted its focus.
Now, it targeted the tails, turning the encounter into a race of speed.
Dane was resolute. His eyes ignited with determination.
'This kill is mine!'
With swiftness, he severed the head and delivered a clean cut to the chest.
Yet, both inflicted damage upon the creature simultaneously.
Glory would decide who claimed the kill.
...
[Completed]
[4/4]
[Seeker, you have acquired an argumentation: Tip of Cremation]
• [Tip of Cremation allows the seeker to incinerate the dead, leaving no trace of their existence. It disposes of all memories associated with them, erasing their presence from wherever they originated.]
...
A wide grin spread across Dane's face.
He was faster.
He inhaled deeply, throwing his head back.
'Triumph!'
Meanwhile, the enshire dismissed its blade and approached the still-chained Descents. Grasping the lead of the chain, it began dragging them forward once more.
Suddenly, another enshire appeared, also wielding a whip.
The Descents, including Dane, shot up like startled cats, staring at the menacing figure.
"Ahhh!"
"A replacement??"
Why?
Just as he was about to celebrate his victory and reward—though he had hoped for something more than an argumentation—another terror emerged.
As they thought they were free from lashes and shouts, the Descents realized their ordeal was far from over.
Dane took a step back, only to find chains binding his hands and legs again, tethering him to the lead.
"Hehehe. Now get moving! Come on!"
'Damn it. Back in line...'
The young man glanced at the beating enshire. Through its shadowy cloak, he sensed a wicked smile lurking there.
It wasn't as if he couldn't escape the chains, but even if freed, he would still follow.
He had yet to figure out how to endure a night shift. The details eluded his memory.
However, he was certain that this character, Vorden, had endured many night shifts to attain a Top-Level rank.
So many, and more would have been legendary.
Yet, no memories surfaced about that. The only knowledge in his head pertained to the game itself.
As for the caravan's destination, it was headed towards the Stream of Darkness.
The imbecile caught up with him again, unwittingly revealing his shifty nature while attempting to mask it with a false congeniality.
He had forgotten that first impressions mattered, having already made a poor one.
"Hey, how old are you? And why are you following us in chains when you could escape?"
Dane grimaced, his nose crinkling in disgust.
'Should I test out that Tip of Cremation on this idiot?'
Of course.
But he realized that would mean disposing of the fool's life, and... he was inclined to do so.
The moment he had the chance, the bastard's head would come off.
He simply loathed the fool!
Suddenly, a series of lashes struck both of them from behind, causing them to shout in pain, yet unable to reach that part of their bodies.
'Curse you!'
***
After a while, the caravan came to a halt.
Water appeared in wooden cups, and they eagerly gulped it down. Soon, bread followed.
Whoever was providing this was truly legendary!
Also, it seemed the sun had vanished during this night shift.
There was no trace of it, not even a faint glow.
Only eternal darkness stretched out endlessly.
No mountains, nothing.
The battle enshire had wandered off into the void, only to return with... nothing.
'Fuck you!'
Dane had expected more from its long absence.
A couple of minutes later, they began moving again, eyes narrowing at the larger figure behind them—the one with the whip.
An evil shepherd leading its flock of sheep.
The battle enshire was like its dog.
But to any reasonable person, it was clear who the true dog was... hmm.
Soon, they reached a dead end: a cliff.
Looking down, they saw pure darkness.
However, far to the left was a long, ancient wooden bridge that could aid their crossing.
In all honesty, no one trusted that rickety bridge.
It was a death trap waiting to happen.
Yet, did they have any choice?
Refusal would mean one or more lashes to their backs.
Dane felt an intense urge to take the bastard's head off.
He had already endured ten lashes from the psycho.
They were led to the bridge, each of the Descents shaking and retreating in fear, only to receive a lash that forced them to move forward again.
Their backs were bathed in crimson, resembling a state-of-the-art human tattoo.
It was time to ascend the bridge, and the first person to step onto it became the victim.
Instantly swallowed by the bridge, they broke off after about three steps.
Screams echoed as the person fell into the abyss, slowly fading from sight.
Then, all of them turned sharp eyes towards the two enshires.
"Well..."
"Come on. Well..."