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Chapter 210 ~ Predator

A cold wind blew through the main hall, slipping through the gaps in the barricade and washing over the last 42 surviving men of the Death-Spreading Brigade

The main hall was the most spacious part of the cave system, so it was commonly used as a dining area. However, it was now an emergency stronghold.

This series of caves — the sellswords’ hideout — was centered around this long and narrow hall. Several smaller caves radiated off along its sides, and they were used as personal rooms, armories and food storage.

They had upended their crude tables and stacked up boxes to form a simple barricade. After that, they had strung up several chest-height ropes between the entrance to the main hall and the barricade, in order to ward off anyone who might try to charge the barricade. Once the enemy ran into the obstacles, the defenders could avoid being drawn into a melee.

Almost everyone was arrayed behind this defensive formation, holding their

crossbows as they waited in the center, left and right wings.

It was a simple battle array, but it could hold off an enemy force larger than them. It would be sufficient… it had to be. 

Then… disquieted looks began appearing on their faces. 

Their chain shirts quivered along with them, producing the rustle of links sliding over other links. 

Just now, peals of laughter had rung from outside. And due to the echoes within the cave, it was transformed into a shrill, sexless laughter, which was what had chilled them to their bones. 

They believed that since the strongest man in the Death-Spreading Brigade — Brain Unglaus — had sortied, there was no need for them to build a barricade or the like.

That laughter had shattered their conviction.

The fact that someone could fight Brain and still laugh like that could only mean one thing.

Everybody knew it, but nobody dared to say it.

All they could do was look silently at each other. The eyes of everyone gathered here went wordlessly to the entrance of the hall — in the direction of the rest of the cave.

The tension in the air thickened, and then—

A girl appeared from the shadowed darkness. 

A beautiful little girl. Her long, silver hair, though shrouded in darkness, glimmered from the little light illuminating it.

She walked gracefully, each step resembling that of a dignified lady of nobility who embodied grace and elegance. 

Nobody spoke as the click and clack of her heels echoed harrowingly throughout the jagged stone walls. 

Their eyes widened in shock as a wave of heart-stopping coldness accompanied sight. For they had finally realized who produced the harrowing laughter. 

“Good evening, everyone~ My name is Shalltear Bloodfallen. Oh, but please don’t mind remembering my name, for none of you will live much longer to remember it either way~”

She giggled merrily, seemingly amused by this. Shalltear lowered her head and laughed. 

She laughed… and laughed… and laughed, her silver hair shrouding her face.

As the mercenaries gasped at the sight before them, Shalltear’s laughter grew ever louder.

“Ahahaaahahahahahaaaahahhahahahhh!!”

Her full-bellied mirth echoed through the hall as the girl slowly raised her head again.

And it was then that they saw the face that made them feel like their hearts were being crushed in their chests, and that ice water was filling their veins. 

That face was no longer beautiful. The color flowing out of her pupils had dyed her eyes completely red, and the two neat rows of white teeth in her mouth now resembled a set of delicate syringe needles, like a shark’s gaping maw. 

A lewd pink glow leaked from her throat as transparent saliva drooled from her mouth.

“Ahahaaahahaahaahahaa!!!”

Shalltear bared her fangs and grinned, so wide that the corners of her mouth almost touched her ears. She laughed several dozen times, like the tolling of an off-key bell.

Whimpers of despair filled the air of the hall.

Though they were in a cavern, it seemed as though even the air could not bear it and joined in with the resounding echoes.

A girl?

A monster?

A fiend?

It was none of them.

This was terror incarnate.

Despite the distance between them, they could scent blood on her breath. Due to the intensity of the stench, it seemed as though even the air was turning red.

“Uwaaaaaah—!”

“Ahahahahahahah~!”

Shalltear laughed, and a vile, predator's snarl appeared on her face. 

She took a step forward, and then she leapt. 

The ceiling was about five meters above the cave floor. The girl jumped high enough to reach out and touch it easily. She sailed gracefully through the air and landed on the other side of the barricade. 

She turned towards the mercenary nearest to her, his face pale as if blood had drained out of every orifices of his body and his sword hand trembling like an old tree branch in the middle of a typhoon. 

She stepped forward… and punched. 

She did not even put her back into it. It was simply a casual punch. However, it possessed extraordinary speed and its destructiveness was beyond all of their comprehension. 

Her hand pierced the body of the mercenary she had punched, sending him flying into the barricade. With a heaven-shaking crash, the wood of the barricade disintegrated, spraying splinters everywhere.

Only the silence of wood chips falling to the ground could be heard in the silence that filled the hall. 

The stunned mercenaries all froze in angst, staring dumbly at Shalltear, unable to move a muscle out of sheer fear and shock. 

Shalltear stuck her index finger into the mass of blood floating above her and drew out a strand of blood, which turned into a character before her. It looked like a Sanskrit character or a similar symbol, and it was called a Magic Rune.

Shalltear possessed a class called Blood Drinker, and this was one of its skills: Blood Pool. This orb of enchanted blood could store the blood of victims for various purposes. It could also drain mana from the blood, so one could use skills that augmented spells without consuming extra MP.

“[Penetrate Magic - Implosion].”

After casting this 10th tier spell — which was of the highest tier of magic — the bodies of ten mercenaries began swelling up from inside.

There was no time for them to cry out. All they could do was watch their bodies expand inexorably, looks of ignorant terror on their faces. Then, in the next moment, their bodies burst, like balloons popping.

“Hahahahhhahahaahaha! Firewoooooorks! How prettyyyyyyyy~”

Shalltar pointed to the spraying blood, applauding and cackling as she did.

And thus, a parade of blood, death, and despair ensued, accompanied by the echoing horrors, screams of pain, and desperate cries of her victims – no, her prey – as Shalltear skipped through the bloody gore of human limbs, bodiless heads, innards, and blood. 

Standing near the entrance of the main hall of the cave, Brain simply stood silently, watching. His eyes gazing at the carnage, the butchering of his fellow humans. 

Unfazed. Unfocused. 

He watched as Shalltear threw the final man lightly at the ceiling. 

After a brief period of weightlessness, he felt the pull of gravity dragging him down again; and then his hand struck the ground, sending a gout of pain through his body.

“Waaaaaah!”

Being able to feel pain was proof that he was still alive. The mercenary, grateful for being able to escape death, eased his eyes open ever-so-slightly, and then he realized that he had been celebrating too soon. 

This was because Shalltear’s slender ivory-white hands had gently embraced him, not allowing him to fully touch the ground.

He had not escaped from the clutches of this terrifying monster.

No, not just that — a gaping maw opened before him, looking like a lump of clotted blood, radiating a stench he had never encountered before.

“Hahaha, hahaha, how fuuuuuuuuun~ Did you really think you could die so easilyyyyyyyyy~ Nooooooooooope~” 

She said as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Spare, spare me—”

“Noooooooooope— I haven’t fed in soooooooooo looooooong~”

Her mouth opened until it was past her ears, until it was big enough to gulp an entire skull down.

--------------------------------X--------------------------------

True Ancestors in the DMMORPG YGGDRASIL were physical incarnations of disaster.

The mouth that opened to the height of her ears was in a semi-circular shape, and the two canines within it were long enough that they reached her chin.

Her brilliant scarlet eyes were the color of blood, and the fingertips of her dried-wood arms sprouted claws that were about ten centimeters long. 

She looked like she was hunched over whenever she moved, and leapt at her prey in a flying charge.

Vampires were monsters which were crossbreeds of humans and bats, and the high-tier Origin Vampires looked more monstrous than the others.

The only Vampire-type monsters which could be said to be beautiful were Shalltear’s concubines, the Vampire Brides.

The only reason why Shalltear the True Vampire looked so beautiful was because Peroroncino designed her to be beautiful. 

Her beautiful appearance was meant to be a combination of his and what he thought Yuuji’s perfect ideal girl would be. 

After all, Shalltear was not only meant to be his personal ideal girl made real in the virtual world, but also as the symbol of his gratitude for Yuuji. 

She was meant to be his little cute, beautiful, pretty monster. 

--------------------------------X--------------------------------

After the final mercenary met his horrible end, Shalltear relished in the death and blood that surrounded her for a moment. 

Just then, a vampire bride who had been assigned to lookout duty called out from one of the escape routes that lead outside. 

“Shalltear-sama!”

“Whaaaaaaat — is iiiiiiiiiiit?”

“Several people are headed this way.”

“Hm~ Leftover survivoooooooors~? Theeeeeeen~ let’s go out and meet theeeeeeeeeem—! Ahahaha, hahaha, hahahahaha!”

Followed by her vampire brides, Shalltear made her way out of the cave through the secret entrance and leapt up, landing on top of the log barricade over the cave entrance. 

Shalltear looked on her targets with a smile.

They were a disciplined, well-trained party. The frontliners comprised three male warriors, each equipped with different gear, but all of them had on a hauberk of scale armor, with a weapon in hand and a large shield on their backs.

Behind them was a red-haired female warrior in banded armor.

There was a lightly-dressed man holding a staff in the rear. He was probably an arcane magic caster. Beside him was a divine magic caster who wore a cleric’s robe over his armor and had a holy symbol shaped like a flame around his neck.

There were six of them in total, and although they were surprised at the sight of Shalltear as she emerged from the cave, they calmly went on alert, a movement born of accumulated experience.

Her crimson eyes shined with a look of anticipation as her mouth spread into a wide, predatory grin at the people before her. 

Shock appeared on the face of the arcane magic caster, but only for a moment, and then his expression hardened.

“Enemy: probable Vampire! Only silver or magic weapons effective! Unbeatable opponent! Fighting withdrawal! Don’t look at her eyes!”

A cry rang forth, easily audible by anyone in this depression.

The shouted commands had been pared down to the bare minimum, and everyone swiftly reacted to them. The warrior at the lead unlimbered his large shield and took a defensive stance. He averted his eyes, looking instead at Shalltear’s chest and belly.

During this time, the female warrior behind them had taken up the weapon passed to her by the warrior in front and began applying something to it. An unpleasant odor wafted into Shalltear’s nose.

It was alchemical silver.

It was a sticky salve made by alchemists, a magical substance meant to be spread and applied across the weapon in a thin membrane to grant it properties as though it was made of silver, a vampire’s weakness. 

Wielding weapons which now radiated a silver gleam, the group moved to stave off their foe as they fell back.

Their fighting withdrawal was an impressive display. The party seemed to be like a single organism as they fell back in an orderly manner.

“My Lord, O God of Fire—”

“Enough with the useless stuff, hurry up and cast a defensive spell!”

The arcane magic caster restrained the cleric — who was planning to raise his holy symbol — and then began casting a spell on the frontliners. The cleric followed suit.

“[Anti-Evil Protection].”

“[Lesser Mind Protection].”

The two magic casters laid their spells upon the frontline warriors.

Seeing their actions, a vague sliver of respect bloomed in her overexcited mind. Although these spells were of the lowest tier, they were still the most suitable magic for their current situation. 

They were unlike those sellswords who lashed out thoughtlessly.

Still — no matter how hard they struggled, meaningless actions were still meaningless. Against a foe who was so overwhelmingly superior to them, nothing they did could possibly mean anything.

Their adorable show of resistance was the last straw that broke the back of Shalltear’s wavering self-control.

“I can’t… I can’t take itttttttttt— I can’t hold back any moooore~!”

With a cry like she had torn free of her bindings, Shalltear stepped forward. Her steps were light and easy, like a dancer’s. However, to the people before her, she moved faster than the wind.

She thrust out a spear hand.

It pierced her victim’s shield, shattered his armor, ignored his magical protections, ripped straight through his skin, muscle and bone, and closed around the heart which had been beating just a moment ago. And then — she tore it out. 

As she stood over the body of the collapsed warrior, Shalltear held up the reddish-black mass of tissue — deformed in her grip — before the others. The female warrior whimpered in fear, while the priest’s face twisted in anger.

“—Retreat’s going to be hard! Attack!”

“Oh!”

The cleric panicked. Perhaps the others had been influenced by that, but one of the warriors swung at Shalltear. 

“My Lord, O God of Fire, repel the unclean!”

The cleric held up his holy symbol, which emitted a burst of divine power. Of course, it had no effect on Shalltear.

“Ahhhhahahahahaahaha!”

Another carnage ensued. 

It was no longer a battle. But a one-sided massacre, not unlike the butchering that happened just a few minutes ago within the bloody cave. 

Not even their silver weapons were capable of hurting her in the least. 

Soon enough, only her dessert (the female warrior) was left. 

She was flailing wildly at Shalltear’s body with her sword while she wasn’t paying attention. 

It did not hurt or even bother Shalltear, and it was a meaningless gesture. The only effect it had was opening up holes in her clothes, but as long as Shalltear herself was fine, the magic clothing would automatically restore itself.

“Now theeeeeen~ desseeeeeerrrrrtttttt~! Let’s eeeeeeaaaaatttt~!”

As the female warrior met Shalltear’s crimson gaze, the female warrior realized that she was the sole survivor, and stumbled back, eyes glistening with tears. She scrambled at her waist pouch, fishing around inside for something.

Shalltear leisurely savored the blood-dimmed world before her. She seemed curious about what the woman was doing.

Soon, the female warrior pulled out a bottle and threw it.

Shalltear narrowed her eyes at the bottle tumbling through the air, and smiled coldly.

Although the female warrior had hurled it with all her strength, the speed at which the bottle traveled seemed almost unbearably slow to Shalltear. She could have easily dodged it, but her pride as one of the strong did not allow her to avoid it. In addition, she wanted to see the look on the woman’s face when her final trump card crumbled before her eyes.

Having made her decision, Shalltear swatted aside the flying bottle. The force of swiping at the bottle caused the crimson fluid within it to spill from the bottle’s mouth and splash on Shalltear’s skin.

And then — there was a faint stinging pain.

The insides of Shalltear’s mind went white for a moment, and her bloodlust was instantly extinguished.

She looked at the place from which the pain had come, which was the hand which had batted the bottle aside. An acrid odor and a wisp of smoke boiled up from the place where the liquid had touched her.

Shalltear turned to look at the fallen bottle. Its mouth was open, and a faint, sweet scent came from it. Shalltear was very familiar with that container.

It was a potion bottle of the kind commonly used in the Great Tomb of

Nazarick.

The liquid within should have been a low-tier healing potion. Since healing items could damage the undead, it was probably why Shalltear’s skin had been slightly dissolved.

“Impossible!”

Her roar shook the very air.

She grabbed the slender throat of the female warrior, holding back tremendously as to not accidentally crush her throat and windpipe. She pulled her towards her face, her eyes glowing red as she activated her [Mystic Eyes of Charm] skill, and brought her under her control. 

“Tell me about this potion! Who did you get it from?!”

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