Translator: CinderTL
A beam of dark crimson energy slammed into Roland's previous position, triggering a localized energy annihilation explosion.
Turbulent smoke and churning dust instantly billowed out, obscuring the area from view. The air was thick with the nauseatingly foul stench of decaying energy.
Beneath his visor, Hagrid's lips twisted into a savage grin, his mind roaring with triumph.
The power of the Corrosive Hand Cannon is something even that old bastard Donde wouldn't dare take head-on! That damned Veilbreaker must have been reduced to ashes!
A potent mix of absolute confidence and cruel excitement surged through him, leaving him certain of his victory.
Now, all I have to do is charge in and deliver a final blow to his remains, just to be absolutely sure!
With this thought, he tightened his grip on the chainsword's hilt. The rotating teeth let out an even more frenzied buzz.
Simultaneously, the arm controlling his vehicle slammed the throttle to its absolute limit.
The metallic steed beneath him roared under the strain, its speed skyrocketing. Like a maddened steel beast, it charged headlong into the lingering cloud of smoke and dust.
The sheer force of the vehicle's high-speed charge tore a jagged rift through the billowing haze.
Hagrid's eyes widened, his gaze fixed on the dust cloud, desperate to witness his opponent's mangled remains. He even licked his dry lips in anticipation.
But the moment the dust cleared, the cruel smile on his face froze, replaced by utter shock and disbelief.
The smoke-filled space was...
...empty.
No wreckage, no dismembered limbs, not even a single drop of blood.
How is this possible? Alarm bells screamed in his mind. His four arms tensed instinctively, and his head whipped around, frantically searching for the ghostly figure.
In the very instant he succumbed to panic over his missing target, a deep, mocking voice rumbled right against his ear.
"Nice toy. Too bad it's a little slow."
The voice was so close it sent a chill down his spine. Hagrid could feel the faint puff of air from the speaker's words brushing against his helmet.
Before the words had even fully faded, before Hagrid could even begin to pinpoint the source of the voice, a brilliant golden streak—like lightning tearing through the gloom—sliced a deadly arc through the air.
Shink!
Shink!
Two sickening, dull thuds of blades slicing through metal and flesh echoed almost simultaneously.
Then came the sharp clatter-clatter of heavy objects hitting the ground.
Hagrid blinked instinctively, his gaze drawn downward by the sound.
He saw his prized chainsword, its serrated teeth still spinning wildly, and his Corrosive Hand Cannon, its muzzle still glowing with the ember of dark red energy. They lay silently on the ground, severed from his body along with his own severed limbs.
What... what happened?
The bewildered thought flowed like a cold stream through a mind frozen by terror.
Only then did a heart-wrenching, indescribable agony erupt from the stumps of his arms like a delayed tsunami, instantly sweeping through his entire nervous system.
It wasn't just the pain of a clean cut; it was laced with the searing heat and tearing force left behind by a brutal power.
"Aaargh!"
A blood-curdling scream erupted from beneath his helmet, distorted by the sheer agony.
Blood sprayed from his severed arms like a ruptured water bladder. His strength drained away in an instant, leaving him unable to control the raging vehicle beneath him.
BOOM!
The mana vehicle, now out of control, skidded wildly like a headless fly.
The metal hull screeched against the ground, a piercing sound that tore through the air before the vehicle completely lost its balance. It tumbled and skidded across the earth, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris.
Hagrid was violently thrown from the vehicle by the immense inertia, slamming into the ground and rolling several times before finally coming to a halt.
He struggled to push himself up with his remaining two arms, but the excruciating pain from his severed limb and the massive blood loss caused his vision to swim with darkness.
Before he could even lift his head, a bone-chilling coldness pressed firmly against the exposed skin of his neck.
It was the only gap in his full suit of armor.
He forced his heavy head up, inch by agonizing inch.
In his blurred vision, a pair of gray eyes, as cold as ten-thousand-year-old ice, gradually came into focus.
Roland stood before him, the frigid tip of the Radiant Moon Longsword resting steadily against Hagrid's Adam's apple.
Hagrid could feel his life hanging by a single, precarious thread.
He swallowed hard, his saliva mixed with blood. A hoarse voice, strained by agony and terror, managed to escape from beneath his helmet.
"Who... what are you...?"
Roland looked down at him, his gray eyes showing no emotion. He simply repeated his earlier words with calm indifference.
"As I said, I am merely a traveler passing through."
Once he was certain Hagrid could no longer resist, Roland sheathed his longsword and called out toward the shell ship.
"Durga, clear the field!"
He then turned to Avril, who had lightly bounded to his side. "Bind him. Be careful."
The elf girl nodded and skillfully found some sturdy rope.
Roland turned and walked to the two severed arms. He knelt down and pried the chainsword and the strange hand cannon from the stiff, still-clenched severed hands.
He then examined them closely.
The chainsword's blade was not a traditional keen edge, but a row of tightly packed metal teeth spinning at high speed. These teeth were driven by a transmission shaft within a complex metal structure at the hilt, giving the entire weapon a brutal, industrial beauty. It was less a sword and more a machine built for pure shredding.
The hand cannon was even stranger. Cast entirely from a dull metal, its barrel was short and thick, its surface covered in cooling vents and conduits of unknown purpose. At the grip, it featured a structure similar to an engine, which was still emitting a faint heat and residual energy fluctuations.
Roland keenly sensed that the true power source for both the chainsword and the hand cannon was a core embedded within the grip or internal mechanism, continuously spinning and emitting an unstable, eerie glow.
And this core...
Roland narrowed his eyes, focusing his senses. A moment later, a flash of surprise crossed his gaze.
The essence of the core's energy was nearly identical to the stagnant, chaotic, and bizarre mana permeating the air—it was as if the latter had been highly compressed and bound.
Using this strange mana to cast spells that required precise control and orderly structures would be utterly inefficient, severely diminishing their power.
Yet, for driving these "instruments" with their relatively simple structures and focus on instantaneous energy release, it was as if the mana had been tailor-made for the task.
Precisely because of its inherently chaotic and disordered nature, all it took was a specific device to guide it and a simple variable to set the energy release. This would instantly unleash the vast, volatile energy contained within, transforming it into terrifying destructive force.
It was just like...
Roland felt a chill run down his spine as he recalled the dark red beam the hand cannon had just fired—a beam capable of annihilating matter itself.
The sheer power of that single shot was, in some ways, comparable to a weakened version of [ Dragon Breath ].
To achieve this with a weapon driven by an external device... it's simply unbelievable.
"But..."
Roland weighed the heavy hand cannon in his hand before stowing it in his travel bag.
"...its speed is just too slow."
No matter how astonishing its power, it was useless if it couldn't hit its target. In a true battle between transcendents, the briefest delay in energy buildup or projectile flight could mean the difference between life and death.
Shaking off his thoughts, Roland turned back to the bound Hagrid.
By now, Avril had tied Hagrid so securely with her deft hands that he resembled a giant maggot wriggling on the ground.
Avril herself stood a few paces away, waving her hand vigorously in front of her nose, her beautiful face twisted in undisguised disgust.
"Roland, let Galvis handle this kind of binding work from now on. This guy... he reeks of a lingering stench."
At her reminder, Roland finally noticed the strange odor permeating the air, emanating from Hagrid.
It wasn't the usual smell of dirt or sweat, but something deeper, more unsettling...
A pungent odor that seemed to be a mixture of decaying organic matter and some kind of chemical potion.
It was the putrid stench of flesh slowly rotting.
This discovery caused Roland's brow to twitch slightly. He then precisely inserted the hard tip of his scabbard into the gap between Hagrid's helmet and breastplate at his neck, then skillfully flicked his wrist to pry it open.
Crack!
With the crisp snap of a metal buckle breaking, the heavy, scratched helmet covering Hagrid's head and face fell off and rolled across the ground.
"Ah!"
The moment Hagrid's true face was revealed, Avril couldn't help but let out a short gasp. Her pupils constricted sharply, and she instinctively stumbled back several steps, almost hiding behind Roland.
Even Roland, known for his composure, couldn't help but frown deeply at the sight, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
Exposed to the dim light was a face that could hardly be called "normal."
His skin was a sickly, uneven blue-gray, as if all vitality had been drained from it.
But the most horrific part was the coexistence of new growth and decay upon this deathly pallid canvas.
In some areas, strange, pinkish-fleshed growths bulged and writhed like cancerous buds, attempting to overtake everything.
In others, the flesh had completely sloughed away, revealing blackened, pus-filled necrotic muscle beneath, with glimpses of white bone peeking through.
New and old tissues were interwoven, locked in a silent and brutal war that twisted his features into a living nightmare beyond words.
This was the source of the overwhelming stench of decay.
(End of the Chapter)
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