touchnovel Chapter 14 Blessing from the Abyss
Chapter 14 Blessing from the Abyss
Klein's pupils reflected the firelight from the direction of the camp, where gunshots, shouts, and screams mingled together and came from afar.
His breathing quickened; he hadn't expected the enemy to launch a surprise attack at this moment, when they were at their most vulnerable!
Simon patted him hard on the shoulder, waking him up: "Go back to the defense camp, I'll ambush those guys here."
"Are you alone?"
"Don't worry, I'll buy you some time," Simon said casually.
"Alright! I owe you a favor." Klein didn't say anything more, turned around and disappeared into the fog.
Simon crouched behind the bushes, harpoon across his knees, thumb on the trigger of the explosive crossbow bolt.
Close your eyes, and the sounds around you rush into your ears like a tide.
He could hear the crisp sound of branches snapping underfoot thirty meters away, the dripping sound of water droplets sliding off leaves as mist condensed, and the bang of bullets exploding from gun barrels over the camp.
The Iron Emperor's blessing flowed through his veins, like molten iron being forced into his bone marrow.
Footsteps, from the right.
The harpoon was raised from his knees, harpoon head down, blade against Simon's calf.
He held his breath, listening to the footsteps getting closer and closer...
The moment the person peeked out from behind the bushes!
The harpoon pierced his chest.
There were no screams, no struggles, and his body collapsed limply.
Simon, holding the harpoon in one hand, supported his body as it fell silently.
As the harpoon was pulled out, warm liquid gushed from the wound on the corpse's neck, spreading down the muddy ground.
Suddenly, that familiar line of green-purple cursive script appeared again at the edge of my field of vision...
The strokes had a sticky feel to them, slowly wriggling and twisting on his retina.
Warm, fresh blood—how delicious!
【My dear, the Mother of Abundance has tasted your offering; she is delighted. Please accept her gift.】
[Gift 1: Delicious Glands: Your sweat glands will secrete an odor that will attract abyssal creatures]
[Gift Two: Corrosive Acid: Your mouth can secrete corrosive saliva]
[Gift 3: Faster Healing: Your wounds will scab over and heal faster]
Simon didn't move; he didn't want to choose.
He did not want to receive anything from Mother of Abundance.
The Iron Emperor's Blessing was a trade: hunt down aliens in exchange for power.
These green and purple words, a blessing from the abyss, he had no idea what the consequences of the transaction would be. He might gain power, but he had no idea whether the power given by the Mother of Abundance had any side effects, or whether the power he gained would force him to become a hideous monster.
Will he one morning find his arms transformed into mantis arms? Will his organs mutate like those of the girl he once met?
This is something he absolutely cannot accept.
A noise came from the direction of the camp, Badr's shotgun made a dull thud, and Klein's throwing knife tore through the air.
The words before my eyes haven't disappeared; they're still waiting.
A disdainful look swept over the three options.
The first and second ones are about turning people into bait, turning them into monsters.
The third one... rapid healing, simply makes the wound heal faster.
There was no other way; his consciousness chose the third option.
A mother's love can heal all wounds; the love of an abundant mother is the same, it will mend every one of your injuries.
Keep going, my dear, may your flesh and blood become one with the abyss.
[A Blessing for Blood and Flesh - New Commission: Scam a Legion-Level Gear]
The words, like spores scattered by the wind, drifted from the center of my vision outwards.
Simon exhaled and gripped the harpoon tightly.
Legion-level equipment is something only the Imperial regular army is qualified to be equipped with. Each piece has a number and is recorded in the Mechanical Church's ledger. In this abyss, the number of people who can obtain legion-level equipment can be counted on one hand.
Sinners like them deserve to use outdated weapons abandoned by the legion, or even obsolete models from the early days of the Great Crusade. The difference is no less than that of fighting with matchlock muskets during World War II.
He almost laughed out loud; this commission was harder than killing a predatory beast.
He couldn't get what the Abyss wanted.
We're safe for now.
Simon bent down and crept towards the camp...
Badar stood by the campfire, shotgun against his shoulder, muzzle aimed at the figures emerging from the fog.
His movements were slow, each step perfectly timed. A gunshot rang out, a man fell, the cartridge was ejected, it was reloaded, another gunshot rang out, and yet another man fell, like a calibrated killing machine.
Klein stood three steps behind him, holding a gun in his left hand and a throwing knife in his right, continuously throwing the knife while protecting his blind spot.
As the blade pierced the enemy's throat, he immediately rushed forward, grabbed the strip of cloth at the end of the throwing knife, and pulled it out instantly, blood splattering everywhere. At the same time, using the enemy's corpse as a shield, he fired several shots, killing another enemy.
They work together very well.
Simon withdrew his gaze and crouched in the shadows at the edge of the camp.
The explosive crossbow bolts were already loaded, the fork aimed at the densest group of figures in the fog.
There was the sound of boots snapping dry branches, the sound of a nail gun's safety being released...
The pursuing troops swarmed in, bypassing Badar's line of fire and flanking the camp from the left.
Ten meters, eight meters, six meters...
Simon pulled the trigger.
The explosive bolt shot out from the side of the forked head! Trailing a burning fuse, it drew an orange-red path through the fog.
It plunged into the center of the crowd and suddenly exploded among those astonished faces!
boom!
The orange flames exploded along with the bits of meat.
The blast wave knocked three people over and pushed three others backward, causing them to stagger.
Simon gripped the harpoon and rose from the shadows.
Amidst the billowing smoke, the criminals could only see a gaunt figure holding a long-handled weapon...
Like the Grim Reaper wielding a scythe, approaching them.
The man in leather armor, his face covered in blood, refused to sit idly by and wait for his death. With a roar, he instinctively charged towards Simon.
Simon didn't stop, sidestepping the charge and swiftly slashing the harpoon upwards from below.
The fork easily sliced through the leather armor, leaving a bloody gash on his chest with its sharp blade.
He collapsed to his knees with a thud, dying from blood loss before he could even utter a plea for mercy.
My hearing picked up a new sound, a very soft rubbing sound, like something was rubbing against a rough tree trunk...
The second enemy was smarter; instead of charging, he crouched behind a fallen tree trunk, rested his nail gun on the trunk, and aimed it at Simon's chest.
Simon didn't stop; his steps were steady as he continued forward...
The man pulled the trigger.
Simon sidestepped the moment he pulled the trigger, and the bullet grazed the hem of his smock before hitting a tree behind him.
He pushed off the ground with his left foot, like a javelin thrower, and the heavy harpoon was thrown out like a spear!
The fork destroyed the nail gun in the man's hand, then plunged it into his shoulder, pinning him to the tree trunk.
Strolling to the big tree, Simon calmly pulled out the harpoon, and the piercing scream abruptly stopped.
One enemy remains...
The smoke had dissipated, and Simon looked at a "trembling corpse" on the ground.
The criminal was clever enough to hide next to his teammates' bodies and pretend to be dead after the explosion, but unfortunately he kept trembling and Simon saw through him at a glance.
"Get out of here if you don't want to die," Simon shouted at him.
"I surrender. I... I didn't want to come here either. Please spare my life..."
The man looked up in surprise. He looked very young, maybe only seventeen or eighteen years old. He had been beaten black and blue, and there was a long, narrow, bleeding scar on his right cheek.
"You can leave now." Simon had no intention of killing him.
He hurriedly turned and ran to the other side, something slipping off him as he ran...
"stop."
Simon suddenly called out to him in a calm tone.
The young man, who was used to obeying orders, immediately stopped in his tracks, almost stumbled and fell, his legs trembling uncontrollably.
Simon took a few steps forward and picked up a pair of glasses with broken lenses from the grass.
He had always worn glasses in his previous life, so of course he knew how important glasses were for a nearsighted person.
He personally placed the glasses on the young man's nose, straightened them, and the latter became so nervous that he stammered incoherently...
"Th-thank you, best wishes..."
"Keep running in that direction, don't look back."
After giving him directions, Simon, carrying the harpoon, turned and walked toward the battlefield in the camp.
The real battle has only just begun...