I Was Connected to Earth's Black Market From Another World With The Skill [Market]!

Chapter 68 – A Prince, A Sage, A Saint, And A Muscle Brain

Myrril’s POV

I am an idiot. I am a heartless, ungrateful, selfish bastard.

“…Yoshua.”

The mere mention of his name makes my heart ache. The man I loved so much, the man who made me feel safe just by hearing his voice, I let him go.

I know what he thinks. I also know how he feels. I’ve experienced the pain of being left behind in a dangerous place many times myself.

I know exactly what he will do when I send him away, but this is what I get for being so selfish.

Only the roar of “Woji,” which steadily and surely pierced the enemy’s eyeballs, barely kept me from reality. The rain hides the regret and loneliness that makes me want to cry out. This was the right thing to do. I had no choice but to do this. [T/n: UZI.]

I’m not so shameless as to let him carry everything on his shoulders and be protected at all times by himself.

Even though I was painfully aware of the ridiculousness of the war I was trying to wage being supported by the power Yoshua had given me, I still howled.

“Come, bring it on! I’m the wife of the Demon King of Casemaian. Myrril is here!”

“Oh, Myrril, why are you so smug! I didn’t invite you here!”

“Shut up! I know what I’m doing!”

“No one wants you to stay.”

“I know what I’m doing! Shut up already! I’m sick and tired of my own stupidity!”

Yadar’s “machete” sparked as she crossed blades with the Sage of the kingdom, who wore a strange armor.

His wrists, elbows, neck, abdomen, knees, and all the flesh peeking out from the joints of his armor have been cut by the blade, and the overflowing blood has dyed the silver armor reddish-black, but instead of being frightened, he seems to be getting more and more agitated.

I don’t know how much they’ve messed with his head, but he’s a completely dead soldier.

Every time Minya’s “emu rokuju” barked, the enemy soldiers would splash blood or vomit blood and roll. This way too, no matter how much they are cut down, they show no signs of retreating. [T/n: M60.]

The same goes for the kingdom’s army. If you lose 20 percent of your troops, the normal course of the battle is to retreat, but they continue to advance until all of their troops are dead. I don’t know what makes them so obsessed. The sight of soldiers of mediocre morale, equipment, and skill hurrying to their deaths in fear is beyond pathetic; it’s eerie.

There was a sound of cutting wind from deep in the forest, and an iron arrowhead struck the body of the “Hanbee” and bounced off. I followed the trajectory of the arrowhead and fired a shot, which hit the silver armor in the distance and made a high-pitched sound. [T/n: Humvee.]

The sound indicates that the bullet did not escape. A magic barrier. That’s nasty.

While thinking this, I couldn’t stop my mouth from forming a smile.

After all, I’m the pioneer when it comes to the mechanical bow he possesses. I know everything about it, from how to use it to take advantage of its advantages to its weaknesses that it is trying hard to hide.

This includes the fact that it is a flower of an era that will eventually die out without spreading.

“It is my duty to give it equal treatment even though it is an unrighteous child with whom I do not share blood, isn’t it?”

As I headed for the forest, a number of arrows came flying at me. If I jumped back quickly, I would be hit by a second arrow, and the angle and time of the arrows would be slightly different.

Is this an archer’s habit?

Hmm. The mechanism that shoots out multiple arrows sequentially makes it possible to shoot continuously. I don’t know who made it, but it’s not bad that they came up with that idea from the original form that I made.

Although it seems that they didn’t think of the reason why I didn’t do so.

In exchange for rapid-fire, the weight increased, the power of each shot decreased due to the bulkiness, and it became impossible to reload on the battlefield after all the shots had been fired.

I understand. In theory, this is the path I followed myself.

But those weapons are useless if they are not simplified, made cheaply and in large quantities, and carried by ordinary soldiers. If you don’t have enough of them, they are worthless. If you can’t think of that, you’ve lost.

“…Just as I was, right?”

I stepped into the forest where the mechanical bowman had disappeared and rushed forward, keeping my back low. There is no point in hiding. You can’t hide. I can see his breath clearly from behind the trees.

It would be very difficult to catch a Dwarf running through the trees, wouldn’t it? If you shoot a short arrow, it will be bounced off the grass and easily change its trajectory. It’s different from a longbow arrow.

I whispered in the ear of the man who looked over at me lost.

“You are breathing very hard, aren’t you?”

The arrowhead, which was launched as he turned around, went through the empty space and pierced the trunk.

There is no way he can get a decent shot with that big of a thing, no matter how hard he swings it. It could have been used in the watchtower of the fort, but why did you give it to an individual soldier and a soldier in the forest war? You idiot.

“If you continue like this, the magic barrier will wear off, you know?”

There was no response to my voice as I laughed from behind the trees. The only answer is the arrowhead that was fired.

“How many more can you shoot?”

He drew the sword at his waist and came at me, but I only managed to escape around the trunk into the shade of the next tree, and the “prince” lost sight of me in dismay.

His breathing is ragged. It doesn’t seem to be from anger, fear, or nervousness. Perhaps it’s a shake back from the physical strengthening he’s been forced to do.

Even as a discarded pawn, he could have been used in other ways.

The man fell to his knees, and I appeared in front of him.

“Give it up. War is not so easy that you can win with a stolen weapon.”

As I approached him, he raised the mechanical bow in his hand, and the eyes in his armor narrowed in disdain.

The poor ex-Prince seemed to be dreaming of victory until he was shot in the eye by a bullet from Woji.

“But the more I look at it, the worse it looks. It looks like it belongs in the hands of a discarded pawn…”

As I turned to fire a bullet into the mechanical bow, an ice spear flew through the tree trunk and exploded, crisping and freezing the undergrowth in the shade where I had narrowly escaped.

It was a woman with staff, her whole body armor gushing with magical light, who appeared slowly from the shadows.

It seems that the fact that she was blessed with more magic power than the other two had a negative effect on her, and the degree of her madness seems to be severe. She tilted her head and whispered something, but I couldn’t understand her.

“Gokon,” “Ikemen,” “Kachigumi”… what is she talking about?

[T/n: It can be translated as Party, Handsome, and something like winners in life.]

“…What are you, a Saint? You’re just a pathetic witch now.”

The .45 bullet that I shot out was not only bounced but also returned straight to me.

If I hadn’t had a bad premonition and attacked while running, I would have been killed by my own bullets.

Fighting a mage is nothing short of troublesome.

By the time I got out of the forest and in front of Hanbi, the Imperial camp was all but destroyed, with only dead or dying soldiers lying on the ground. I don’t know what made Minya so angry, but the man who looks like a commander is crawling around with his legs shattered, screaming and spewing blood.

“…Shaaa!”

I looked at the howling voice and saw Yadar about to swing out her machete with all her might. The Sage’s head was snapped off, spinning in the air and disappearing into the forest. It was a tragic end, but if they had thought of sacrificing Yoshua, they deserved it.

Well. All that remains is the crazy Saint.

Her appearance as she came out of the forest was so twisted that it sent a chill down my spine. The way she walks, rubbing her inner thighs together while spreading dense murderous intent, the way she gestures and gazes as if she is flattering an unseen party, it is impossible to look at her.

“…What’s that?”

“Don’t shoot her, Minya. She will return the bullet to you straight away.”

“Interesting.”

“No, it’s not interesting at all.”

The Elf girl jumped out of the ceiling as if she was bored with being at the gun turret. In her hands, she is holding her beloved “Sodofosyotogan”…? [T/n: Sawed-off Shotgun.]

…No, wait, are you kidding me?

I told you not to shoot her. The moment you fire that thing, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble, with all the bullets flying in all directions.

“I know, it’s okay.”

No, I don’t think you understand. My heart is ringing with alarm that this is definitely not okay.

The Saint tilted her head when she saw Minya walking up to her as if she were taking a stroll.

“Minya, step away! That’s the preliminary action for activating magic!”

A spear of shimmering ice is born, shaking the air with a crunch, and spreads around the Saint as if it were a halo. As the tip of the spear tilted towards Minya, it was launched at an unbelievable speed.

“Minya!?”

There was no sign of Minya at the point where the ice spear was pierced. In less than a blink of an eye, she had stepped into the Saint’s bosom. She put her hand on the Saint’s armor and whispered something to her.

The Saint shuddered and fell to her knees. After falling to the ground, she didn’t move a muscle.

“…What did you do?”

When I asked Minya when she returned, she tilted her head and smiled as if imitating the Saint’s gesture.

“I returned it.”

“…I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It’s not the magic barrier that returns the bullets. It is repatriation by the blessing of the Holy Spirit. A higher spirit can rewrite it. I’ve returned malice for malice, hostility for hostility, and murderous intent for murderous intent.”

The armored Saint is lying on her side, twitching and convulsing, but I don’t know what exactly happened to her. I’m not sure I want to know either.

“…..What are you?”

“It’s normal for an Elf to be blessed by a spirit.”

I can assure you that it is definitely not normal, but my intuition tells me that it is best not to get too deep into it.

“Myrril, Minya. It’s going to be bad.”

Yadar told us, her ears and tails hanging down.

The enemy seems to have been wiped out, and there doesn’t seem to be much of a problem. The rain is getting heavier and heavier, and it’s already starting to look like a storm. The sun seemed to be fading. I stopped moving, and the cold began to seep into my body.

“What’s the matter?”

“I heard a nasty story from a dying soldier. The main force of the imperial army is coming. I heard that their goal is to overrun the capital and take over the kingdom.”

“It doesn’t matter. They can do as they please.”

“As far as I can tell, they’ve included Casemaian in the kingdom’s territory.”