Chapter 542: The Swan Prince (1)
"Haa... damn."
The Gallos Crime Syndicate, Milieu.
One of the bosses in this Milieu, Lucien, sighed and cursed simultaneously as he took in the scene before him.
A werewolf using black magic.
Fallen subordinates.
Debtor Ivan.
The Sleeping Forest and the creature.
Dave, whose aura reminded one of a flesh chef.
Despite foreseeing the dangers involved in seizing the flesh chef's treasure vault, Lucien had never dreamed that such a hellish series of events would unfold one after another.
"Especially this situation... It makes no sense. I can feel the malice of the world itself."
Clutching his torn stomach, Lucien glared at the man wearing a crown of thistles standing above him.
As a candidate for the Swan Sect’s Prince, he had emerged from the ground after Dave's departure, single-handedly taking on the hundreds present from the Milieu, the black magicians, and the treasure hunters.
His movements were inhumanly bizarre, his strength unfathomable given his emaciated frame, and he wielded a blade that devoured flesh.
In every possible way, he defied belief as a human... though he may not have been human at all.
How could any human restore a severed arm?
"This damn bastard..."
Pierre, an elder and fellow Milieu boss, shouted in disbelief.
Despite his seasoned skill, which allowed him to sever the Swan Prince's arm, the Swan Prince calmly grew a new one without a hint of panic.
It seemed similar to the flesh chef's regenerative ability, but there was something different about it.
With that new arm, the Swan Prince struck Pierre, leaving him no room to evade.
Crash!
The massive elder clad in gray armor was knocked back, tumbling across the ground from the swing of an emaciated arm.
The scattered fragments of his armor testified to the impact’s sheer force.
Pierre lay dazed, unable to gather his senses, as the Swan Prince leapt, ready to finish him off.
The Swan Prince soared through the sky, aiming a sharp, flesh-forged blade at Pierre.
Swoosh!
Just before the blade could pierce Pierre’s body, Leo, another Milieu boss, wielded his whip to snatch Pierre out of harm's way.
With the agility befitting an assassin, he cast a net that blanketed the Swan Prince.
Snap!
Made from the hair of a spinster and the emotion of obsession, the net tightened around the Swan Prince, binding him thoroughly.
At that moment, a volley of attacks rained down.
Nate, another boss from Milieu, fired crossbow bolts with poison, explosions, flames, and acid, turning the Swan Prince into a pincushion alongside his subordinates.
Valerie, the only woman among Milieu’s bosses, aimed her magic gun, firing a blue magic bullet that blasted a gaping hole through his head.
Warrior Aaron and assassin Leo swung their axe and awl, slashing the Swan Prince with a storm of strikes.
The combined assault of high-ranking magic users...
Not a single gap in their strength or technique, and the Swan Prince’s body, like the net, was shredded in an instant.
All that remained of the Swan Prince was part of his head still bearing the thistle crown, a piece of his shredded torso, and his lower body.
Those observing the Prince’s fall cheered from afar...
Though not the Milieu bosses and Lucien nearby.
"What is that?"
Seeing the Swan Prince, still standing despite his wrecked form, Lucien muttered in apprehension.
Even though he was called a businessman, he was no stranger to warfare—a fact confirmed by the others, who also instinctively distanced themselves as a chill ran down Aaron and Leo’s spines.
But it was already too late.
The Swan Prince's severed right arm moved through the air, slashing at the pair with its flesh blade.
“Ugh…”
“Ack!”
The blade tore through their armor, severing an arm each from the warrior and the assassin, sending them to the ground as it absorbed their severed limbs.
Everyone was aghast.
But that wasn’t the only issue.
After being melted by acid, the right arm began reassembling the Swan Prince’s original form, limb by limb.
Severed flesh returned to its original place, while new tissue sprouted, an ability that surpassed regeneration entirely.
"What the... what even is that?"
All present were bewildered. How could a mere fringe cult active only in the agricultural land of Iberia, and subject to a flesh chef, wield such power?
"Why are you all standing there like fools? Attack!"
Breaking the stunned silence, Valerie yelled as she fired another magic bullet that exploded into flames.
The fist-sized scarlet flame shot towards the Swan Prince, bursting his flesh with a tremendous blaze.
The heat was palpable even from afar. But the Swan Prince absorbed the fire with his flesh-forged blade, swinging it back to release the flame.
The crescent-shaped flame lashed out toward Valerie and several allies, dealing significant damage.
A blade that could absorb people, even flames... And the terror did not end there.
The Swan Prince plunged his blade into the ground, transforming part of the earth into a bubbling, corrupted mass, constructing an enormous gate, 6.35 meters high and 3.98 meters wide.
At the top of the gate, a girl with a raven on her head stood guarded by eleven swans.
On either side of the gate, its doors depicted a melancholy kingdom on one side and an industrialized world on the other.
On the left, countless citizens suffered under an evil queen...
On the right, workers toiled beneath mechanical gears.
The scenes were so vivid, it was as if reality itself had been etched into the images.
Creak...
Taking advantage of the moment everyone’s eyes were fixed on the eerily beautiful yet ominous gate, it opened with a dreadful creak.
And through it emerged a 7-meter-tall beast bowing as it stepped out.
The creature was a raven with limbs, holding a spade in one hand, though closer inspection revealed it was no ordinary raven.
Its wings and limbs were composed of hundreds of human limbs, its torso welded from thousands of amputated bodies, and its head seemed to be stitched from human skulls.
It resembled a manufactured sculpture more than a living creature.
It clanked forward, like a broken toy, spreading a thin, misty fear around itself as it unfurled its wings.
The horror spread in a ring around the raven, instilling fear in hundreds as it sucked in this terror, using it to fuel its own movements.
The now-smoother motion testified to the effect. It seemed more like a machine than a living thing.
"This isn’t right!"
Lucien screamed inwardly.
He knew nothing about any of the strange magic unfolding before him, but one thing was clear: they had to attack while they could still stand.
But as he tried to yell, his voice failed him, the wound in his stomach worsening.
And just as it seemed all would end...
Neigh!!
A horse’s cry rang out.
In that tense moment when all were paralyzed by the raven...
Claude, the disciple of Puppet, also known as the Puppet Merchant, emerged from his shadow, summoning four corpse-crafted horses, a chariot made of bones, a driver dressed as a goddess, and a spearman puppet.
With every gallop, the emotions in the puppets surged and amplified, becoming a solid mass of darkness as they charged toward one of the raven’s legs.
━━━━━!
The combined strength of the four corpse-crafted horses, two puppets, and the bone chariot concentrated into a whirling impact, compressing and shattering the leg.
With overwhelming physical force, the leg distorted and collapsed in space.
The massive raven stumbled, kneeling on one leg, while Claude prepared to charge again.
The raven flapped its wings, releasing hundreds of arms like feathers, but Claude skillfully maneuvered the chariot, evading them.
As the raven readied its second attack, something clung to its wing.
It was a cluster of suicide puppets.
Boom!!
The suicide puppets exploded in a chain of shockwaves, shaking the surroundings.
One leg broken, its wing destroyed, the raven couldn’t withstand the impact and toppled forward.
Then...
A giant centipede slithered up, crawling over the raven with an unsettling noise.
The centipede had been summoned by a magic array crafted by the Plague Merchant.
“Could the Plague Merchant always use summoning magic?”
Lucien, dizzy from blood loss, thought.
From what he knew, the Plague Merchant had specialized in unleashing swarms of bugs, rats, snakes, and dogs hidden in his body.
“Well, he must have picked up new tricks. It’s the age of black magicians running wild, after all. The key is they might just finish off that monster.”
Working together, the disciples of Puppet brought the raven's head down to the ground, and Claude charged at it.
Just as he had shattered the leg, he aimed to crush the head.
At that moment, pustules of decayed flesh bubbled up from the ground, sprouting a multitude of red statues like strips of dried flesh.
Each statue was bound with restraints, with only its mouth exposed.
Clearly, they were summons of the Swan Prince.
No sooner did they emerge than they began emitting a sound that was either a scream or a chant, causing Claude’s charge to falter.
His black magic ritual wavered, leaving him vulnerable to a condition.
In those few seconds of confusion, the Swan Prince seized the opportunity to leap, swinging his flesh-forged blade down upon Claude.
Boom!
The ground split in two. Luckily, as the chariot had come to a halt, Claude managed to escape in time, sparing his life.
But the problem was the next attack.
Without his corpse puppets, Claude, as a black magician, was nearly defenseless.
Just as the flesh-forged blade was about to pierce him, a black thread twisted from a distance, embedding into Claude's body.
At the end of the black thread stood Bombmaker Bay and a clown-like corpse puppet he had summoned.
Stitched together from multiple corpses, the clown corpse puppet used its six hands and a pulley to yank Claude backward.
Screech... Slash!!
"Ugh, my back is torn up!"
“You crazy bastard!”
Though his back was shredded from being pulled so quickly, Claude managed to avoid the attack.
The Swan Prince moved to pursue, but just then, centipedes and snakes wrapped around his legs.
The Plague Merchant, a disciple of Puppet, had pulled them out from his bandaged body, attacking the screaming statues and binding the Swan Prince's legs simultaneously.
"Now's our chance! Hold him off until Claude and I can regroup!" Bay shouted.
His command was directed at the remaining forces of Milieu, black magicians, remnants of the Flesh Chef's faction, and hundreds of treasure hunters in the area.
It was no empty call.
In the present setting—the Sleeping Forest—escape was impossible. Before them stood a monster that continued to fight and move despite being ripped to shreds.
Survival depended on victory, and victory required the combined strength of Claude, Bay, and the Plague Merchant, each of whom was renowned as one of Puppet's disciples and a powerful figure in Gallos's underworld.
The others, too, recognized the urgency of Bay's words and moved to hold their ground.
The first to act was Neun, a treasure hunter and grave robber. He summoned multiple centipede-shaped golems, sending them rushing toward the Swan Prince in an attempt to restrain him.
With flashing steel teeth, the centipede golems launched their assault, emitting beams of blue magic energy.
The Swan Prince absorbed the laser into his flesh-forged blade, then retaliated, slicing through the centipedes and redirecting the laser toward Neun.
As Neun braced for an inescapable blow, a mercenary squad created a shield wall, protecting him just in time.
Simultaneously, black magicians on either side of the Swan Prince joined their shadows in an attempt to entrap him, but he leapt at just the right moment, dodging the shadows. In midair, he swung his blade wide, cutting down several black magicians.
Unfazed, Milieu enforcers and the remaining Flesh Chef faction charged at the Swan Prince with black magic items and weapons in hand, surrounding him from all directions.
The Swan Prince retaliated, his movements becoming more brilliant and faster with every strike.
He was so swift that Lucien struggled to keep up, his vision blurring.
"No... my mind's clouding. The blood loss... Letting him get the upper hand at the start was... truly—"
"—truly shameful, huh? To think a Milieu boss would fall after taking just one blow and end up dying here."
Just as Lucien was about to lose consciousness, Ivan appeared before him, speaking out of the blue.
...
"You... bastard..." Lucien groaned at the sight of Ivan’s face.
Though Lucien usually maintained his decorum, this uncharacteristic reaction came with good reason.
After all, it was none other than Ivan who, in passing by, had fired a cat-machine gun at the Swan Prince to get his attention.
Meow-o-o-o-ng!
Yet once the fight had begun, the very same Ivan had vanished without a trace—a coward deserving of every bit of Lucien’s wrath.
"And yet, here’s this ‘coward’ offering you a helping hand," Ivan said, taking out a potion from his cloak.
Lucien, who had grown faint from blood loss, instinctively reached out for the much-needed item, but Ivan shook his head, pulling it back.
"Ah, ah, ah! Nothing is free, my friend. Every good deed has its price."
With that, Ivan produced a contract—a debt cancellation agreement.
It was clear Ivan intended to clear his astronomical debts with Lucien in exchange for this one potion.
“This isn’t just for a potion, it’s for your life, Lucien. Naturally, it comes with a high price.”
“Fine...”
"Ah, none of that attitude now! The potions you brought are all expired. Like it or not, I’m your only option; that’s supply and demand, my friend. Besides, the other bosses already signed.”
Ivan showed Lucien a stack of contracts, all marked with bloody fingerprints. Only Lucien’s remained unsigned.
There was no way... This insane man had planned this?
“Surely... not. But I’ll tell you one thing—whatever the case, you need to decide quickly. Because that thing... it’s moving again.”
Ivan gestured towards the distance.
There, the massive raven was beginning to stir, its broken body regenerating once more.
Its enormous size was perfect for dealing with multiple opponents. With a flap of its wings, it swept people away with feathers made from human arms.
With his path cleared, the Swan Prince went on a rampage again. The raven, far from being done, raised a giant spade of flesh and bone high into the air, ready to drive it into the ground.
Its sheer size and weight were catastrophic enough, but to make matters worse, the spade glowed with an intensely dark aura of black magic.
Everyone instinctively knew that the moment it struck the ground, a calamity would unfold.
They had to escape.
Ivan shouted, “Well? Do we have a deal?!”
“...Accepted!”
“Thank you!”
As soon as Lucien gave his verbal consent, he marked the contract with a bloody fingerprint, and Ivan sprayed the potion over his wound, accelerating the healing process.
However, high above them, the raven had already begun its descent.
It was too late to escape. But Ivan remained calm.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Help has already arrived.”
Just as Lucien opened his mouth to ask who he meant, he heard a familiar voice.
“[Thrust!]”
A voice rang out, and as the colossal raven was sent hurtling to one side, a huge plume of dust billowed around them.
Everyone froze, turning their heads toward the powerful presence. And through the cloud of dust emerged a figure they recognized.
It was Oliver, a man with black hair streaked with hints of gray.
“I’m back.”