Chapter 21: It’s About to Blow!
BOOOOM—!
“Ughhh!”
Like a fly crushed under a swatter, I was slammed into the wall and coughed up a mouthful of blood. The pressure holding me down was overwhelming. Well, that was to be expected—it was stone, after all.
I felt like every vertebra in my spine was about to shatter.
Pinned and unable to move, I stared at the frail old man approaching me slowly.
His appearance alone screamed, I’m a vicious bastard.
Yeah, he looked exactly like the kind of villain who’d be on the side of the butcher Kamel and his crew.
Donecolint.
The dark shaman paused for a moment, scanning his surroundings.
There was a faint burning smell in the air, which must have alerted him to an intruder. Given that this space was protected by the Curse of the Razor Wind, no ordinary person could have made it here.
A threatening, unwelcome guest had entered his domain.
That’s why he was being cautious, hiding himself temporarily. But now, all he saw was… me—a pathetic, young intruder.
‘Right when I’m at the final stages of my work, an intruder shows up.’
The dark shaman’s expression darkened with irritation. He had endured two weeks of relentless struggle to complete his ritual. Having it ruined now would have been infuriating.
Donecolint glanced up at the glyph floating on the altar, a greedy smile spreading across his face.
‘That glyph aligns perfectly with my powers. It’s meant to be mine.’
The glyph, clearly linked to mental attacks, would become even more powerful once it was bonded to its rightful owner. Just imagining the potential effects made Donecolint’s heart race with excitement.
‘First, I need to get rid of this pest.’
His sharp eyes flicked over me.
The mana I carried… it barely reached one-star.
‘How the hell did someone with that level of power even get this far?’
Donecolint’s brows furrowed.
He knew better than anyone how powerful the ancient glyph’s curse was. No ordinary person—especially not someone with just one-star mana—should have been able to survive it.
He swung his staff.
“Ugh!”
Before I knew what was happening, my body flipped upside down, leaving me dangling in midair.
The old man slowly circled me, scrutinizing my body as if searching for hidden artifacts. But there were none.
‘If it’s not magic gear, then maybe… a blessing?’
Yet no matter how he looked at me, I didn’t seem like someone blessed by a divine being.
‘Or perhaps… he’s got an accomplice?’
Donecolint naturally began considering the possibility that I wasn’t alone.
He glanced at the openings around the cavern, where the black smoke continued to flow inward.
“Who else is out there?”
“Look, just—just let me down, and I’ll explain…!”
“Want to end up as a sack of meat?”
“Ack! Wait—! Aaargh!”
The stone hand gripping me tightened, threatening to crush me. I screamed in pain, but Donecolint didn’t so much as flinch.
Villains like him had no patience.
Crack!Crack!
The eerie sound of bones creaking sent cold sweat trickling down my back. If this went on, I’d be a pile of shattered bones in no time.
This is bad!
Of all the people to get caught by, why did it have to be Donecolint?
The smoke swirling around the cavern still lingered in the air.
Damn, whoever enchanted those scrolls did a hell of a job.
Even after ten minutes of pouring rain, the magical fire hadn’t gone out. The smoke continued to flow through the many holes in the cavern, converging toward this point.
And then, it hit me.
The watcher—the real threat—could very well have followed the smoke trail to this place.
Should I be happy or terrified about this?
If the watcher had entered the same labyrinth of tunnels, the smoke would have been his only clue. With no tracks left in the rain and so many holes to choose from, the logical choice would have been to follow the smoke.
If he’s good enough, he’ll be here in… maybe five minutes?
I had no idea how much time had already passed. But I knew one thing: the watcher was coming.
And here I was, trapped in the hands of Donecolint.
Do I really need the watcher to save me? Is that seriously where I am right now?
Unlike Donecolint, the watcher wouldn’t kill me—not right away, at least. His orders were to keep me alive and deliver me back to Blyer territory.
Honestly… that might be better than getting turned into a bloody pulp by this lunatic.
But then an idea sparked in my mind.
What if I could… pit them against each other?
Wouldn’t that create an opening for me to escape?
The only problem was how to make that happen.
Before I could think it through, the crushing pressure on my body intensified, making my face contort in pain. I didn’t have time to hesitate. This psycho old man really was going to kill me.
And that’s when I saw it.
Hanging around Donecolint’s neck was a necklace—made from strands of hair and dangling teeth, grotesque and eerie.
That’s it!
A desperate plan formed in my mind, and I waved my arms frantically.
“There’s… there’s someone else!” I shouted.
“Someone else?”
“Yes! The real one!”
“The real one? What nonsense are you spouting?”
“The… the courier!”
The moment I uttered the word courier, the crushing force squeezing my body slackened.
Donecolint’s gaze turned cold and calculating.
I fumbled around in my pocket, pretending to be as compliant as possible.
“I was hired by the courier! I’m just a lowly C-rank mercenary named Al!”
I tossed him my mercenary badge, but Donecolint didn’t even glance at it.
What caught his attention was the word courier.
That single word struck a nerve.
Donecolint’s expression hardened.
“The ones from the Witch of Ordor Forest?”
“Yes! If you let me go, I’ll tell you everything! Just… just spare me!”
“......”
“The courier will be here soon! He’s tracking my movements as we speak!”
I pointed toward the black smoke, and Donecolint’s brows furrowed.
Couriers were those hired by the witches of Ordor Forest—agents of vengeance sent to hunt their enemies. And if those witches had sent a courier for Donecolint, they wouldn’t have hired a weakling.
After a moment of thought, Donecolint quietly asked a few more questions, likely trying to verify my story.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes! You’re the shaman Donecolint!”
“And why would a courier be after me?”
“I don’t know the details. All I know is… revenge.”
I deliberately let my gaze drift toward his necklace.
The hair and teeth woven into that necklace had come from witches Donecolint had hunted and killed—trophies of his conquests and potent tools for his magic.
“Revenge… huh.”
Donecolint narrowed his eyes.
“How did they find me?”
“They got information that you were spotted near Beneta and started searching for you.”
“Information? From where?”
“From a guild tavern… I think?”
“Hmm...”
“It’s the truth! I swear!”
Donecolint seemed to recall something.
Just a few days ago, when he was in Beneta gathering supplies, he’d noticed someone asking around about him. He’d dismissed it at the time, but now it all made sense—those people must have been courier agents.
Unaware that those searchers were actually Kamel’s shamans, Donecolint’s suspicions aligned perfectly with my lie.
With a sigh, he lowered his staff. The giant stone hand crumbled into dust, and I fell to the ground, gasping for air.
I couldn’t believe it—it had actually worked.
Donecolint, despite his distrustful nature, seemed satisfied with my answers.
“Was it a witch herself who came?”
“N-No… it’s a four-star mercenary.”
“Four-star?”
Donecolint clicked his tongue.
A witch would have been easier to handle, but a veteran four-star mercenary was a different story.
Still, at least the fight would take place here, in the cursed cavern.
Donecolint’s lips curled into a smug grin.
“Even a four-star… is manageable in this place.”
At that moment—
Jingle—jingle—jingle—!
The silent bells hanging from the black rope around the altar suddenly rang out, sharp and clear.
The sound stabbed into my ears like knives, and I clutched my head in pain.
What kind of curse was this?
Donecolint smirked.
“You’re free to go… if you survive.”
“H-Huh? What does that mean?”
The bells weren’t just for decoration.
They were an alarm—a signal that the Curse of the Razor Wind was about to unleash its full fury.
Donecolint chuckled.
“This close to the altar? The curse will tear you apart.”
BAM!
“Ack!”
A blast of energy from his staff sent me flying into the wall by the altar.
And then—
BOOOOM—!
One of the cavern walls exploded, revealing a hulking figure stepping through the rubble. His massive frame was battered and bloody from battle.
But his eyes burned with pure hatred.
The moment our gazes locked, I knew.
It was him.
The watcher.
His clenched teeth ground together audibly.
I had played him, and now he was out for blood.
[“If things get messy, just bring me his head.”]
Kamel’s earlier words finally made sense.
The watcher’s expression was twisted in fury.
And there was only one thought in his mind.
Cut off his head.
But now, there was another problem—Donecolint.
The watcher’s cold gaze flicked to the old shaman.
Ally? Or enemy?
I saw the flicker of hesitation in the watcher’s eyes.
That was my opening.
“N-NOW!” I screamed, pointing between the two of them.
“He’s the one! That’s your real enemy!”
In an instant, both Donecolint and the watcher shifted their stances, their auras sharpening.
No words were exchanged. There was no time for talk.
The wind suddenly stopped.
Instead, the air trembled, and the golden glyph on the altar began to swell dangerously—like a balloon about to burst.
Donecolint’s grin stretched wider.
‘It’s going to blow.’
I curled up, covering my ears.
Please, let me survive this!
BEEEEEEEP—!
“AAAAAHHHH!”
The Curse of the Razor Wind exploded, and a tortured scream ripped from my throat.
Compared to this, the earlier gusts felt like lullabies.
It was like having my skull crushed under the weight of pure sound.
But somehow, through the unbearable pain, I managed to stay conscious.
I-I can survive this.
If I wasn’t dead, I was fine.
I bit down on my lip until blood filled my mouth, forcing myself to focus. I squinted through the agony and looked at the two figures in front of me.
At the moment the curse erupted, their reactions were completely different.