Surviving the Evil Gods – Chapter 16

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Aslan followed the trail of blue blood through the forest. His steps were sure, his eyes scanning ahead, quickly picking up the next sign.

The splatters of blue, varying in size, led deeper into the forest, eventually converging in a single spot. Aslan knelt, examining the large pool of blood.

Harod, watching him, spoke.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Go ahead.”

Aslan rested the executioner’s sword on his shoulder, running a hand through the blood. A faint trace of mana lingered.

“What’s going on? How did you know all this beforehand?”

“…That’s what I want to know.”

Angie echoed Harod’s question. Aslan ignored them both, dipping a finger in the blood and rubbing it between his fingers.

“It was obvious. The monsters we’re tracking, hags, possess mana. They were once mages. They weave hypnotic magic into the wind to ensnare their prey.”

That’s why a distinct scent and a trace of mana lingered in the air after a hag hunt. With his increased Luck and Mana, Aslan’s senses were heightened, making it easy to detect.

“And?”

He couldn’t simply say he sensed it. Aslan stood up.

“The sea breeze was blowing directly into the campsite, but the insects were silent. Eerily silent. And there was an unfamiliar scent mixed in with the sea air.”

Angie tilted her head at the partially truthful explanation, but Aslan didn’t elaborate. He couldn’t explain further, even if he wanted to.

He continued to follow the trail, Angie trailing behind him in silence.

As they moved deeper into the forest, a strange landscape unfolded before them – the humid air of the rainforest mingled with the salty tang of the sea.

And the pervasive scent of mana.

Aslan scanned their surroundings, his eyes quickly picking up on every detail, then gripped the executioner’s sword with both hands.

“Just like this.”

Harod instantly drew his weapon and shield, and Angie, a moment later, grabbed her glaive.

A high-pitched shriek echoed through the forest, seemingly coming from all directions. Aslan exhaled, adjusting his grip on the executioner’s sword.

“You know we’ve seen you. You know what’s coming. Why don’t you just come out?”

Aslan lowered his stance. Slowly, figures began to emerge from the shadows of the rainforest.

Grotesque figures that could only be described as monsters.

Blue skin, tentacles protruding from their mouths, gill-like slits running along their cheeks and necks, mana radiating from their bodies.

The monstrous figures, still bearing vestiges of their former humanity, pointed at Aslan, their tongues flicking out.

It was to be expected. Hags were once human mages.

Or rather, they were mages who willingly abandoned their humanity.

Mages who, in their pursuit of power, had embraced the War God’s methods.

Aslan felt no sympathy for these creatures who had willingly given up their humanity.

He simply adjusted his grip on his sword, his eyes cold, a long, slow breath escaping his lips.

He was simply counting how many he would have to kill.

“They use magic. Don’t stand in a straight line. Use the trees for cover. There are ten of them.”

“What?”

Aslan finished his brief explanation and charged.

–Screech!

The nearest hag lunged at Aslan, its hand outstretched.

Something glinted at the tips of its claw-like fingers. Aslan tilted his head and ducked low at the last moment.

–Thwack!

A shard of ice, narrowly missing his throat, embedded itself in the ground. Aslan, still crouched low, swung his sword upwards.

–Thud!

The hag’s thick neck was severed as if cleaved by an axe, the head flying through the air.

Before the head even landed, Aslan spun, his sword still raised.

–Crack!

The executioner’s sword, propelled by the momentum of his spin, slammed into the temple of the next hag, its face frozen in shock, splitting its skull.

The hags shrieked and charged.

Aslan stood his ground, moving only when a monster came within range.

Four hags fell in quick succession.

He thrust the executioner’s sword into the throat of the nearest hag, the blunt tip shattering its cervical vertebrae. He blocked the claws of the next with the ricasso of his sword, then reversed his grip, flinging the hag’s arm aside and cleaving its head in two with a wide swing.

As bits of skull and brain splattered across the ground, another hag conjured a ball of fire in its palm.

Aslan met its gaze, then moved.

He dropped to his knees, dodging the projectile, and swung his sword.

The blade sliced through the hag’s palm, severing it. The creature screamed. Aslan swiftly brought his sword down, shattering its shin.

He stepped on the hag’s broken leg, pinning it to the ground, then brought the executioner’s sword down on the head of another hag trying to escape, crushing its skull.

As the split head landed on the ground with a soft thud, the remaining hags reacted.

–Screech!

Two of them fled, while the others, avoiding Aslan, charged at Angie and Harod.

Angie instinctively thrust her glaive at the approaching hag.

The simple, unrefined attack pierced the hag, which shrieked and thrashed its limbs.

Harod Claw charged at the flailing hag.

“Raaaa!”

He roared, bringing the iron rod he was wielding down on the hag’s head. The blow landed with a sickening thud, crushing the hag’s skull.

As Angie reached down to retrieve her glaive from the dead hag, Harod stepped in front of her, raising his shield.

–Clang!

“Focus, Angela Tail!”

Spells struck his shield, each impact echoing with a dull thud. Harod held his ground, enduring the barrage, then charged, slamming his shield into another hag.

–Screech!

He pushed the shrieking monster back, creating an opening for Angie, who instinctively thrust her glaive into the hag’s chest.

As the impaled monster shrieked, Harod finished it off, his iron rod crushing its skull.

Angie, watching the monsters fall, realized that even if she couldn’t fight like Aslan, she could still hold her own with Harod’s help.

She felt a surge of confidence, a desire to fight more. A youthful fighting spirit bloomed within her as she targeted the next hag. Just then…

–Crack!

Aslan appeared beside the hag, the executioner’s sword flashing, ending the fight before it could begin.

The hag’s body, split in two, landed on the ground with a wet thud, like a discarded rag.

As Angie felt a pang of disappointment at having her last kill stolen, Aslan approached.

“Good work. Hags are tough opponents. You did well.”

Her annoyance faded at his praise, a swell of pride replacing it, though she tried to hide it.

“Yeah, well, you fought pretty well too.”

“I’m the Master of Battle. I’d better fight well.”

Aslan replied, wiping his sword. Clumps of blood and gore dripped from the blade.

The blood splatters formed a trail, leading deeper into the forest.

“We need to follow the ones that escaped. Resupply quickly and follow me. Harod.”

“…Hmm? Oh, alright. What is it?”

“Good job.”

Harod looked around awkwardly at the compliment. Aslan had killed most of the hags himself, so being praised for taking down a few felt strange. But there was an undeniable authority in Aslan’s voice.

“Thank you.”

They walked in silence, following the hags’ trail. The tracks became more erratic as they moved deeper into the forest, often intersecting with the trails of other animals.

Even Harod, a skilled warrior, found it difficult to follow, but not Aslan.

He saw the footprints and claw marks clearly. He moved forward without hesitation, and soon, they came across a small clearing, with a dilapidated hut and a cave.

“…This is…”

The sight that greeted them was more disturbing than they could have imagined. Even Aslan was momentarily speechless.

He saw a hag, trembling before the cave entrance, begging for mercy, and without a word, brought the executioner’s sword down.

The cave was filled with corpses.

Dozens of them. At least twenty, perhaps more.

Each corpse had a hole in its skull, their brains devoured.

And the bodies weren’t intact.

They had been butchered, their organs, skin, and flesh harvested for magical purposes.

Like slaughtered livestock, their remains were scattered throughout the cave.

Aslan closed his eyes, a look of disgust on his face, and sighed.

A grim reminder that this was the reality of Gelladrion.

He was still staring at the gruesome scene within the cave when…

“Ah, there you are. I was looking for you.”

Cornil Ashuld and his soldiers arrived, accompanied by several mages. Among them was the soldier Aslan had treated and given medicine to.

Aslan glanced at them. Cornil, meeting his gaze, spoke.

“So this is their nest. My, my… Baron Candlevil is known for his incompetence, but I didn’t expect him to be unable to deal with even a monster nest like this… Is the situation resolved?”

“It is.”

Aslan replied curtly. Cornil Ashuld forced a smile.

“That’s good to hear. Then perhaps we should be on our way? It’s getting late…”

“These bodies.”

Aslan interrupted Cornil, turning to look at him.

“We’ll bury them before we leave. Your soldiers were attacked while they were resting. They haven’t had a chance to properly recover.”

Cornil’s face fell, but Aslan’s expression remained firm.

“Th-they’re just… unrelated corpses. We can just leave them. Some of them are already quite decomposed.”

Cornil was right. Some of the bodies were decaying. Aslan looked at them for a moment, then spoke,

“If I were one of those ‘unrelated corpses,’ I would hope someone would bury me.”

He picked up a shovel leaning against the hut.

“If you’re not going to help, then set up camp and let your men rest, Imperial Investigator. It won’t do you any good to exhaust your soldiers before the investigation is even complete.”

As Cornil Ashuld hesitated, Aslan began to dig.

He wielded the shovel with surprising skill for a Master of Battle, quickly creating a pit large enough to bury a body. He carefully placed a corpse inside and covered it with earth.

“…I-I’ll help, Master.”

One of the soldiers, the one Aslan had treated, stepped forward, watching him work.

A few other soldiers followed, some with awkward smiles, others with unreadable expressions.

They offered their help, and Aslan accepted.

Only Cornil Ashuld looked displeased, ordering the remaining soldiers to set up camp.

Angie watched Cornil, then Aslan, then Harod, who was helping the soldiers move the bodies.

She hesitated for a moment, then approached Aslan.

“Why are you doing this?”

She asked.

Aslan stopped digging, leaning on the shovel.

He looked down at the freshly turned earth, then replied,

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Although the girl didn’t understand, she soon began to help him.

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