The Man’s 101st Bad Ending

Translator: FusionX

The demons that appeared alongside the Four Dragons were sometimes considered even more dangerous than the dragons themselves.

Countless renowned warriors had fallen to a single demon. Even those bearing the title of Master were easily slain in those battles.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a human wield a sword. Only food comes down here.”

The monstrous figure, its head nearly touching the cavern’s ceiling, frowned as it lifted its head.

A gust of dust-filled air erupted, a chilling blast that seemed to freeze the lungs.

Adriana countered with a wave of divine power, dispelling the frigid wind.

Even that was a struggle.

The demon before them was a being that had embodied violence itself during the era of the Four Dragons.

Its crimson eyes narrowed.

He channeled his mana and stepped forward.

Doubts surfaced in his mind.

Could he kill it? Yes, he could.

His swordsmanship had almost fully returned. Once his body was fully recovered, he would wield it perfectly.

However, if the demon possessed its full power from the era of the Four Dragons, it would likely be comparable to the dragons themselves.

Could he defeat it even with the Saint and the Paladin’s support?

The answer came swiftly.

He had to fight to find out.

Only by clashing blades could he gauge the monster’s strength and determine if he could prevail.

The pressure intensified with each step, but his expanding mana brought a sense of calm.

This was different from facing dozens of knights.

A human and a monster. A monster capable of slaughtering humans like toys. Its very presence exuded an aura of overwhelming power.

“You’re different. Similar to those I fought in the past. Perhaps… even better.”

He met its gaze.

Unlike their initial encounter, he felt a strange sense of familiarity. Not fear, but a calculating assessment.

He considered how to fight such a massive creature. If he stood on its foot, he could probably fight while standing on its shoulder.

The thought made him chuckle.

“Better?”

The monster, staring at the chains binding its wrists, replied,

“Perhaps I’m simply weaker now.”

The chains snapped.

He stared at the severed metal, bewildered.

Could chains that thick be torn apart? This was power beyond measure.

One thing was certain, a single blow would cripple him.

Was there a way to avoid a fight?

He glanced at Adriana.

She seemed to be praying for his escape.

He could flee, and if the monster chose to remain here, no one in the North would be in danger.

Why had it remained imprisoned, only now breaking free? He considered the possibilities.

The Minotaur, having freed itself, stared at him intently.

“Are you curious? About why I was here?”

“Would you even tell me?”

“Yes. It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered a human.”

“These corpses are human.”

“Wrong.”

It snorted, the force of its breath ruffling his hair. The sheer pressure felt like a gale.

He chuckled wryly.

The monster grinned, its lips moving.

“I wouldn’t call food human. They came here willingly, offering themselves to be consumed. Why would I consider them human?”

“So they’re not alive now?”

“Not entirely. I haven’t even recovered half the strength I possessed before. I wouldn’t call this being alive.”

Less than half, and this was its current power… How would he fight the Four Dragons?

He couldn’t even begin to imagine.

However, he knew he couldn’t avoid this fight. The Minotaur had freed itself to fight him.

“Necromancy?”

“Something like that. A rather crude version, but humans have always been like that.”

Resurrecting the dead.

He knew such forbidden magic existed, and that there were mages who specialized in it.

If this monster had been resurrected through such magic, its body would be significantly weaker than in its prime.

He assessed the situation, his sword in hand.

The distance between him and the monster was the distance Verod and Adriana needed to escape.

The time remaining before the battle began.

Lost in thought, he heard the Minotaur’s question. Its twisted lips were stained with blood. Between its teeth, remnants of its recent meal.

Human flesh.

“You’re not running. I gave you ample time.”

“If we had run, you would have followed. That’s how you are.”

He knew from the moment their eyes met that this fight was inevitable.

The Minotaur wanted to fight.

Only one of them would survive.

Its gaze, fixated solely on him, gleamed with anticipation.

A thousand years.

The time it had taken for the Minotaur, slain before the Four Dragons were sealed, to be resurrected here.

He couldn’t imagine the thirst for battle it must have felt during that time.

“You broke free from your chains to fight, didn’t you? They must have hindered your movements.”

“You understand well. Not bad. Better than the humans I encountered before. Are you the strongest among them?”

He didn’t hesitate.

He adjusted his grip, his body poised to spring forward.

Ready to strike in any direction.

He spoke, his voice low and steady.

“Perhaps. No, definitely.”

“Good.”

Madness returned to its eyes.

Crimson, redder than blood.

The monster grabbed its spear, a halo of light expanding around it. Each breath sent shivers down his spine.

The moment he moved, the battle would begin.

The anticipation drained his energy.

If he failed to defeat the Minotaur here, the North would be devastated.

He would consider the reasons for its delayed discovery later.

The ground trembled as the Minotaur shifted its weight, debris erupting around it.

He maintained his balance amidst the tremors.

His swordsmanship, honed over decades, allowed him to adapt to any situation.

He had to trust himself.

His swordsmanship, his resolve to protect Miragen, the memories of his countless struggles. Without that conviction, he had no chance of winning.

He recalled the first time he held a sword.

It wasn’t to kill. It was to protect Miragen, a promise he had failed to keep. The regret fueled his training.

Miragen, Adele back at the estate, and Adriana here. He had taken up the sword for them.

He wouldn’t regret it.

Even if the enemy was a monster. His sword would prevail.

“Robert!”

“It’s best to stay back. Interfering would only hinder him.”

Adriana wanted to rush forward, but Verod held her back, retreating.

She couldn’t interfere. His duty was to protect the Saint. His duty didn’t include fighting monsters, and his intervention could expose Adriana to danger.

Besides, Robert didn’t want him to interfere.

He had seen it in his eyes.

Stay back. Protect Adriana.

That was his role.

Adriana’s worried gaze pained him, but he couldn’t disobey. Introducing a variable into a fight against a Minotaur could lead to disaster.

His duty was to protect the Saint.

He reminded himself of this and whispered to Adriana,

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t intervene. There are other ways to help him. The Moon Goddess is always benevolent.”

“But how-”

Adriana’s heart ached as she watched Robert face the monster.

Verod’s words seemed absurd, yet perhaps he was right.

Would her participation in the battle change anything? She could try the method she had used in the South.

Adriana knelt, clutching her rosary.

Divine power flowed through it, emitting a soft glow.

Just as she had imbued Robert with divine power before, perhaps she could transfer her strength to him now.

They shared the same divine power.

A thread of light extended towards Robert.

The Minotaur chuckled, noticing the familiar tactic.

One fights, while the other supports from behind. It was reminiscent of his battles against the goddess. It brought back memories of a thousand years past.

He wouldn’t stop them.

The Minotaur thrived in carnage.

He had always been the survivor. He observed Robert, assessing his skill.

His gaze softened.

“Peak.”

Unlike the so-called Masters, unlike the clumsy knights who wielded their swords like children, this human moved with the grace of a true swordsman.

His body, honed for battle, his muscles flowing like water.

The sight pleased him.

This would be his first real battle in a thousand years. If this human survived, he might even share some trivial information.

About the regressions, perhaps.

“Let’s begin.”

His muscles bulged, the ground cracking beneath his weight.

A casual swing of his fist could shatter mountains.

The ancient monster, once the embodiment of violence, unleashed its power.

“Come.”

He grinned, eager to test the human’s strength.

A thousand years of waiting.

[Translator Notes]

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