This World Needs a Hero

Chapter 130

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Grrr-!

Originally, it was difficult to deal with the undead using blades.

It was common sense for martial artists.

However, the Black Hope was an exception.

Slash!

With one horizontal swing, the upper bodies of six undead were crushed.

The Hero swung the massive sword like a hammer, and any undead that even grazed it were shattered and torn apart.

Every time the sword swung, at least three undead fell to the ground.

Grrr-!

But the Heros expression gradually hardened.

They are surrounding me.

Undead whose heads werent shattered rose again, groaning.

Click-

Click-

Skeletons picking up bones and reassembling them with their own hands.

After pushing away the attacking undead with a powerful swing of his sword, the Hero assessed the situation.

This place was one of the locations where the ritual was taking place, closest to the starting point.

His gaze focused on the center of the open space.

There was a structure made of solid stone.

Its an altar. The sacrifices

Dozens of torches surrounded the altar, creating an eerie scene where shadows and light blended.

Several tied-up demi-humana with regal appearances came into view one after another.

Tied to the stakes

They moaned in shallow agony, overwhelmed by heat and fear.

But soon, their cries were drowned out by the undeads roars without a trace.

Grrr-!

The Hero took a deep breath.

Up to this point, it had been easy to reach here by navigating the alleys where the undead couldnt easily follow.

However, now it was an open space.

He had to break through head-on.

Heresy, heresy!

A hysterical voice split the air, and it was at that moment.

You are not worthy to step here!

It seemed to be a necromancer overseeing the ritual.

He was wildly waving a thin arm in front of the altar, chanting something.

Perhaps under the influence of something, his gaze was hazy.

Kill him!

Clang-

The paper attached to the necromancers staff made a sound as it shook.

The undead in the open space turned their bodies towards the Hero in unison.

The Hero realized that he had to make a decision soon.

Ive been surrounded.

Now was the moment to decide, the first ritual site.

The legion of moaning corpses.

If they fought over time, he could handle them without injury, but now was not the time for such leisure.

Larze whispered.

[How will you handle this? Planning to sweep them all away with the halo? Then you might run out of mana. If you go for a melee]

What to do.

The answer had already been decided.

Meanwhile.

Seeing the frozen Hero, the necromancer, judging him as paralyzed with fear, exploded into laughter.

Still unaware of his identity, he made such a misconception.

Foolish. How can an individual like you handle the legion of the undead!

The necromancer and his undead.

Their compatibility was indeed the worst.

It was useless to crush his limbs.

As long as the head wasnt destroyed, they wouldnt stop moving.

Monsters with wounds that wouldnt make a person hesitate to collapse and scream.

But

The Hero, who held the Black Hope, exerted more strength in his hand.

Its the same on this side.

Kwaang-

The Hero flew.

He headed straight for the altar, the shortest route.

It was also the place where the most corpses were densely packed.

Huh, suicide? A fitting word for a heretic.

The necromancer, seeing the Hero being swept away by the wave of undead, was confident of victory and turned his head.

It was right after he realized that he had made a hasty judgment.

Phoo-!

Blood spurted out simultaneously.

But the Hero paid no attention to the spurting blood; he ran towards the necromancer.

Avoiding only fatal attacks.

He dealt arrows and slashes without hesitation, as if his heart were made of iron.

In an instant, his entire body was covered in blood.

[Oh]

Larze sighed quietly.

In the time available for evasion, he added another attack, crushing the undead.

He was a doppleganger who could restore his body with polymorph.

It was an efficient method if he endured the pain.

If he endured the pain.

What, what!?

Beyond the horde of undead, the necromancers confusion was clearly felt.

It was understandable.

This wasnt a way humans fought.

On the contrary, it was similar to what he had often seen.

An area without pain or fear.

So, the distance to the altar shortened in an instant.

Explosion, Copse Explosion!

As the Hero approached, the necromancer resorted to his last resort.

Corpse explosion.

Implementing powerful magic at the cost of sacrificing troops.

Kwaaaaah!

The corpses around the Hero simultaneously expanded and then exploded.

Bone fragments and flesh shot in all directions with the force of processing meat.

The fragments had a destructive power different from the attacks the Hero had endured so far.

If hit directly, even with all his skills, he couldnt avoid a fatal injury.

But, it was fine.

He had already reached outside that range.

Twitch-

From the beginning, the Hero had been saving his mana, anticipating the corpse explosion.

As soon as the necromancers mana fluctuated, he activated Nova.

Now!

At the moment when the undead were stiffening in anticipation of the explosion.

He closed the remaining distance in one go.

[Ho]

Larze, impressed by the proficiency that seemed to have experienced multiple battles with the necromancer, sighed again.

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What, what is this! Who are you!?

The Hero, enveloped in a blue glow, reappeared right behind the astonished necromancer.

Thump-

The head of a man fell under the altar, leaving a moist trail.

Simultaneously, the undead on the open ground collapsed to the floor like severed dolls.

The Hero stood upright, resisting the pain, and took a deep breath.

.

.

.

In a short time, he dealt with the necromancer and his legion.

But there was no time to feel a sense of accomplishment.

Slash-

The Hero smashed all the unholy items on the altar and then proceeded to demolish the altar itself.

As the demonic energy that filled the surroundings gradually dispersed.

He freed the demi-humans trembling with fear and hatred, who had been tied to the stakes.

The subsequent process was a repetition of a similar pattern.

The Hero headed to the remaining two ritual locations.

The necromancers commanded the legion of undead, desperately resisting.

Not only necromancers but also some cultists of the Demonic Church were present.

The Black Hope relentlessly swung towards them.

Although it sometimes cut through soft flesh and vivid screams instead of bones or rotten goo.

To him, there was no significant difference.

Hu

And at some point.

The Hero stopped.

Silence surrounded him.

The only noisy thing was the buzzing of the swarm of flies attached to the corpses that no longer moved.

No, there was something similar buzzing a bit.

[Arent you not able to feel pain?]

Pulling an arrow from his side, the Hero responded to the absurd question.

Of course not.

Just as he finished his sentence, the hole in his side disappeared.

[Then, no sense of smell either?]

Instead of answering, he smeared the rotten blood flowing down his robe on a doll.

[!]

Did you get an answer?

The doll shook with dissatisfaction once, then spoke again with an excited voice.

Presumably, observing this fight had sparked curiosity in him.

[Have you always fought like this?]

[What were you doing before becoming the Hero? Tell me.]

Various things.

The Hero answered vaguely, meticulously removing arrows and broken blade pieces embedded in his body.

And then, he asked the question that had been on his mind.

Are all the demi-humans captured on the surface unharmed?

[Yes. All 57 are safe.]

Quite a few.

[I can also tell you how many undead there were in total.]

Ill pass.

He took a deep breath, and his body, pierced and scratched everywhere, mostly healed.

Now it was time to search for the entrance to the underground.

Before taking a step, he looked at the gathered demi-humans trembling with fear.

They were the ones he had rescued from the third altar.

Even though he had saved them, they didnt let their guard down around the Hero.

Gathering together, they stared at him with eyes filled with distrust, hatred, and fear.

Ah.

The Hero felt a sense of dj vu in their expressions.

A moment when he chased the light of human society but encountered shadows and felt disillusioned by the vile and dreadful malice towards the weak.

Therefore, he knew that he couldnt do anything more for them now.

Quietly leaving was the best option.

It was the moment when the Hero turned without saying a word.

Wait a moment.

A dirty furball rolled down to his feet.

The Hero looked at it with curiosity.

Something too small and skinny.

[Oh, a snow fox tribe?]

Snow fox tribe?

It took a few more seconds to recognize it because its unique white fur was covered with sticky dirt and dried blood.

Lev, Lev! Dont go!

Come back!

The demi-humans reached out their hands as if to prevent him, but as soon as the Heros gaze reached them, they quickly retreated back into the shadows.

The Hero shifted his gaze to the boy with the arrow embedded in his side.

Snow fox tribe.

They were known to be timid, cautious, and extremely guarded.

In a situation like this, he wouldnt expect them to approach first.

In the Heros eyes, Levs tearful eyes, sparkling in the moonlight, were visible.

Soon, a sorrowful cry followed.

Waaaah, help, please save Ilya.

The Hero knelt down, aligning himself with Levs eye level.

Tell me slowly and in more detail. Who is Ilya?

I- Ilya is a snow rabbit tribe girl. They took her away. S-shes young!

Young.

The word echoed in the Heros ears.

The contents of the interrogation in the Harlem Organizations hideout flashed through his mind simultaneously.

He felt that there was something waiting in the hidden underground, not just the executives of the Demonic Church.

Although he had confirmed their existence through interrogation.

Something that wasnt visible on the factory grounds on the surface.

Where did they take Ilya?

Lev didnt stumble in his response as much as he did before.

I know. I heard it all.

The snow piled up in the snowy field swallowed the sounds of prey.

Therefore, the foxs hearing naturally had to develop.

Even in a situation where vision and smell were blocked, it never missed its target.

Lev pointed with his fingers, scarred and wounded.

Over there. I heard Ilyas voice suddenly stop on the first floor.

The Hero turned his head slowly. The ominous shadow of the pale white building stretched long.

It was the central prison on the premises.

Thud-

A large palm touched Levs trembling shoulder once before moving away.

Lev stared blankly at the retreating figure of the man.

At close range, he could see part of the strangers face hidden under the robe.

The clenched jaw and distorted lips.

Why is he getting angry?

They are just demi-humans.

While Lev was pondering such questions,

Thump-

The Hero entered the building.

Later, through the Iris of Laplace, he found the entrance to the basement covered with an illusion spell.

Dispel.

When the illusion spell was nullified, he could detect it clearly.

The presence of a member of the Demonic Church who was more powerful than all the previous necromancers combined.

Likewise, a monster that exudes more powerful demonic energy than all the undead he defeated today combined.

And the faint presence of young lives, as if about to be extinguished.

He felt everything.

Larzes doll shook.

[Hmm, it seems a quite useful fellow has been summoned despite you ruining their plan.]

Nothing would change.

Defeat them all and rescue the hostages.

The Hero pulled open the basement door with determination.

A cold air filled with a foul odor penetrated his nose.

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