Cardboard Houses Do Not Tear

62 – A glass of leeway to the self-appointed artist (with some typos corrected, Lehu!)

“What?”

The bastard’s robe began to tremble.

In that look, he was filled with angry questions about whether he deserved such insults, but there was no one among us who could sympathize with his anger.

“Wow. I’ve never seen a bastard say that death is an art in my life.”

That’s why I raised the same question.

“By the way, according to what you said, should your parents be called performance artists or art models?”

He started trembling when he heard my question about suicide or long-term killing. It was clear that he was bewildered by a conundrum that even he seemed unable to solve.

I came up with a simple answer to the guy who was agonizing over choosing between the titles of ‘Bite his tongue and die rather than look at him’ and ‘Horo kid who harmed his parents’.

“You bastard, you have to refute at that time. Not anguish.”

I decided to move on with one last word.

“If you are going to discuss someone else’s death, you should be prepared to tear your parents apart.”

As I thought earlier, his bullsh*t didn’t deserve to be heard anymore, and it didn’t deserve to be treated.

“Where do you dare to commit a damn thing to kill a prianian squad leader?”

And of course, that anger also included the humiliation I suffered.

You mean to tell me that asshole got me a crossbow to the back of my head, and a slap in the face on a hill?

“I’m going to eat a little bit of a”

The man who heard that shouted in anger.

“All of you, you won’t be able to get out of this place alive!!”

Something black began to come out of the sleeve of the black robe the warlock was wearing. It was terribly sinister and filthy.

Feeling like it would rot to the bone if I touched it, I decided to consult a specialist.

“Priest Rien, will you die if you touch that thing?”

“I don’t know! But I’m here to stop that!”

After her words, she recited her prayers.

“Because we believe that he is the only one who has risen from the midst of darkness on his own from the beginning, we are willing to run into darkness. Please give me a piece of light.”

As soon as Priest Rien’s prayer was finished, light began to surround my body.

And what she asked for in return was an all-out rush.

“Run! G-house mercenary!”

“…Into the darkness?”

No matter how many times I’ve done lunges, I’m a bit confused about that inside.

At my question, she nodded her head. She then pointed to the center of the plaza and said.

“But, something is about to start already!”

As Priest Lien said, far away in the center of the plaza, the last desperate struggle of the old man with dementia was beginning.

His appearance, as if his lower body had become one with the fog, was beyond mysterious and just grotesque.

“Stand up again.”

After the warlock’s spell spread throughout the plaza, the sound of something breaking was heard from all sides.

The walls of the cave began to crumble, and the bodies began to be excavated one by one.

At that nonsense, I sighed.

“Somehow, that bastard just came out all alone.”

Those who kissed the ground deeply staggered one by one and lifted their bodies.

The bodies of the corpses waking up like drunken people were dressed in strange clothes.

Unlike the corpses we dealt with earlier, it was bare and fleshy.

They started moving, so I blocked the party and watched the corpses.

“Behind me.”

Unfortunately, however, the direction they were heading toward was not us, but the middle of the plaza.

Jerobeok, jeobeok.

They are coming together very slowly, but it was clear that soon a barrier of corpses would form.

Perhaps if they completely covered and protected the warlock, our odds would drop drastically.

“Mercenary, run!”

I heard Priest Rien’s voice.

-Tung!

At some point, the prianian squad leader, who had taken his seat on the table, fired his crossbow from a little higher than the heads of the corpses.

But he was a wizard, and of course he could use a shield.

“Family’s final devotion.”

Choo!

…I doubted whether I should consider that ‘wall made of blood’ as a shield.

The magic he used blocked a range that was different from the wizard Locke’s shield I’d seen before.

The fortunate thing was that he didn’t use attack magic at all when responding, only using a shield, but the moment I got closer, I didn’t know what kind of magic would fly.

So I had to find a way.

A smart way to send it in one shot while being able to cook it a little further away-

Challang.

With that clear sound coming from my waist, I found a way to fly.

“Ah!”

“Mercenary! Where are you going?!”

I headed back to the warlock’s desk, where I found what I was looking for.

“You’re lucky.”

Looks like I’ve found a way to deal with him a little more comfortably.

***

For a short time, I made a secret weapon for a black magician with the materials I had.

I didn’t know you could make this in another world.

After carefully taking the secret weapon, I called the two.

As soon as I explained my plan to Priest Rien and the leader of the Prianian squad and heard a confirmation, I started running to where it was.

As I explained the plan, the corpses continued to gather in the plaza.

I had to get rid of him before he was buried alive among the corpses with no time to wield a knife.

“The last stickiness before death,”

And fortunately, now the warlock’s spell casting has begun.

Anyway, the spell seemed to take a considerable amount of time to cast, but the effect was immediately apparent.

As the entire cave was filled with the stench of a corpse, something red and red began to gather in front of him.

It felt as if the gooey clots of blood clotted on the floor had been scraped off with a chewing gum knife and collected, giving me nausea just by looking at them.

As he moved his hand, clots of blood began to pool.

The black magician with the memories of a child and the body of an old man began to play with his hands willingly, humming incantations like the lyrics of a song.

“The flesh and ooze of a corpse-”

“I need to block that spell!”

Perhaps it was because he felt uneasy about the spell, at the same time Priest Rien shouted.

After reloading, the prianian squad leader fired the crossbow again.

-Tung!

But the result was the same as before, but different.

First.

―Choo!

It seems like that bloody wall was built in front of him earlier.

“Goodbye to reunion-”

It was because the casting of the spell that he had been reciting over and over didn’t stop.

It was a duel casting that I had only heard about.

The bolt from the crossbow shot by the squad leader was stunned and couldn’t pierce the palm-shaped blood clots protruding from the wall.

I couldn’t see anything beyond the layer of blood, as if people were overlapping each other.

It seemed like magic that gave up sight, choosing range and active defense.

While I was running like that, corpses gradually began to appear in front of me.

Then, Priest Rien’s prayer came from behind me.

“When the sun rises, the farmer wakes up and plows the fields during the day, because he is strong-”

After the prayer of vitality, I began to feel strength in my feet. I put my shield forward and ran.

“Go away!!!”

The guy who heard that sound lowered the barrier. Then he waved his hand in my direction and went back to focusing.

With the warlock’s short hand gesture, all the heads of the corpses flocking to the plaza turned toward me.

And seeing as he reached out to me, he must have meant to stop me.

The power contained in that hand motion made the corpses find their own way. If it doesn’t exist, it’s not there, if it’s there, it’s there.

Pale limbs began to block my vision, and then they began to tangle together.

I only spit out a short impression about the tactic.

“f*ck mother, I made a scrum with my limbs and fell asleep!”

My impressions were that far. Only the experience remains.

The sword was drawn in advance and held. Hit it straight down.

―Quack!

“Kiaaak!”

As the corpse screamed, blood started gushing out like a water balloon.

From noble mtl dot com

Perhaps it was because the blade had not been sharpened yet, the Arming Sword struck like a machete gave the impression of swinging a mace with a slightly sharper blade than a sword.

Pale limbs began to dangle without being severed, and all objects in my path turned red with screams.

“Quaaah!!”

“Kieek…”

Those who got cut once couldn’t stop me. The wills arbitrarily injected by others were corpses that were like steel, but the limbs they were wearing were weaker than steel.

They kept coming towards me flapping their movable upper arms, or shoulders.

There was not enough time to find the vital points and hit them one by one. So I just moved forward.

What was needed now was not Shanghai’s technology. It was just an effective pioneering method.

But since I had no time to think, I broke their limbs with brawn and cunning.

-Pud deuk.

-Wood deuk.

Mechanically hit, hit, hit again.

Untimely pruning was done in a forest of corpses.

I couldn’t kill them, so I couldn’t forget their faces. That’s why I had no choice but to keep looking straight ahead.

How far has it progressed?

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.”

In the open field of view, the white branches were no longer visible.

And in front of my eyes, I saw the sea of black smoke that the warlock had summoned.

Chalbak.

I dipped my feet in the sea. Fortunately, Priest Rien’s protection was still valid.

Mysteriously, I no longer felt the stickiness from before on the floor, along with the sound of snapping and grinding.

However, the fishiness that rose up at first glance made me know that what was covered under the black smoke was blood.

“Queii…”

“Kee…”

At this moment, the corpse’s grip was approaching from behind. I couldn’t knife myself frantically between those limbs again, so I kept moving forward.

My whole body was full of exhaustion. If Priest Rien hadn’t energized him once again in the middle, he would have been crushed or stranded in the midst of it without being able to escape.

But there was no time to express my gratitude.

Priest Rien did what she was supposed to do, and the one I was supposed to catch was mumbling a spell in front of me.

There isn’t much distance left with him. Just in case he didn’t know, he put his hand on his waistband to make sure the thing was still there.

Challang.

Fortunately, the secret weapon was still on my side.

The warlock stood alone above the black fog, like a lighthouse in the dark, and continued to fiddle with his mysterious gore.

“Live-”

He was finally chanting the fourth word of the spell.

I remembered what the prianian squad leader said in the study.

-He’s probably a 6th tier wizard. Seeing such a long cast time, his spells must also stop at his threshold of six bars.

‘There are two more words left.’

I walked faster towards the warlock.

About 10m left to where he is.

Perhaps it was only then that he heard the clicking sound, and he began to recite the spell a little faster.

“Little rat-”

However, there is a little distance left. He had to run as fast as he could and block it with anything.

So, I started by provoking.

“Your father is back here. You ugly, sorceress rat who survives on the blood of others!”

Hwar’an’s advice not to call wizards ‘jugglers’ still held true.

Hearing that, his mind seemed to be slightly distracted, and the spell he was reciting stopped for a moment.

“…A comfortable harvest for a subsisting rat.”

But he started chanting the spell again right away, so I ran with all my might.

The smell of blood began to rise from the soaked pants.

While running like that, I bumped into him face to face.

Even though the room was clearly bright, only the eyes and teeth were visible on the blackened face.

That guy was clearly smiling.

“A gooey fit around the mouth-”

-Tung!

I heard the prianian squad leader’s crossbow firing bolts again.

“Thick blood.”

The darkness began to rise right in front of the warlock and the gore.

The bastard cast a duel cast again.

Choo!

The red barrier that rose through the black fog was able to block the bolt with just two palms, unlike before, when it was barely blocked with four palms.

Even though the crackling sound of the bolts could be heard, the warlock did not disarm the barrier right away.

It was a plan to believe that the distance between me and him was a certain distance, and finish the order before then.

“Finally-”

As expected, he was an idiot pretending to be an expert.

Relieved by that fact, I pulled out my secret weapon from my belt.

It was an item with a scroll embedded in a bottle of poisoned liquor given to me by the count.

Jjiik.

I tore half of the scroll in the bottle with my mouth and recited the starter language as Priest Rien taught me how to use it.

[Diffuse.]

―Hwareuk!

A small spark appeared on my finger, as if I had turned on the maximum power of a lighter.

The fire scroll on the bastard’s table did its job well enough.

It was my first time using magic in a different world, but I had no time to feel inspired.

It was enough to feel it after dealing with him first.

Support positions.

I gladly shared the spark of magic on my finger with the parchment left half-torn in the bottle.

It’s unexpected common sense, but parchment was flammable, so it could serve as an excellent wick.

So, in my hand, a molotov cocktail with a burning wick was made.

Although magic scrolls can be debatable due to some transfer of ownership, other items are highly probable.

So, if I dare to reveal only the ingredients contained in that bottle, it was as follows.

Half of the solo I received from the Count.

A while ago, I said he could carry a bottle of ink.

And my trump treasure, half a keg of lard.

It is truly an illegal weapon suitable for criminals, made entirely of combustible materials.

‘f*ck. I’ve never made one on Earth.’

It’s not even green beans or green beans, it was very strange to make this in a different medieval world.

“The G-House cocktail is a bit too much, so let’s call it the Molotov cocktail.”

That said, it’s a bit far-fetched to say that bread was given to the people.

The wick of the Molotov cocktail was not very long. I rushed around the barrier before the Molotov cocktail exploded in my hand.

And finally, the face of the guy who was full of joy that I met, it was really a f*cking sight to see.

“Finally the palace-”

“Yes. Be patient f*ck you.”

Only then did the guy who was busy casting the spell widen his eyes in my direction, and I gladly thanked him.

“Sorry, I used a fire magic scroll. Instead, they rolled a cocktail, so let’s mix it up.”

My ginpai, or rather, the guy who was impressed by the transfer of ownership continued to cast a spell.

It was the last outburst.

“Finally ultimate-”

“And death is not art. Art is an explosion.”

Before he could recite all his spells, I threw the Molotov cocktail.

Crack!

“Take a drink. It’s a dog to chew. “

The one who was accurately hit by the Molotov cocktail did not release his casting until the end, and I covered his ears not to hear his desperate scream.

The guy who kept struggling to put out the light, at some point he disappeared into the dark passageway he came out of.

The moment I tried to chase him, the corpses that had received the order started running towards me, so tracking was impossible.

But it was fine.

Because he was covered in flames all over his body, he was already dead.