Chapter 301: Indra King

The buzzing death warning savagely tore at his nerves.

Within the shuddering field of view, a gigantic hand blotted out the sky, pressing down. That oppressive sense as if the entire world were toppling made Muen’s heart almost seize on the spot.

And as mist slowly spilled through the gaps between the fingers, Muen clearly saw the furrow-like fingerprints on that hand, and the countless crisscrossing scars as if they’d been honed upon a mountain of blades.

It really was a hand.

A hand that looked exceedingly ordinary.

Yet at this moment, it was like a mountain, dropping from the heavens.

Muen’s eyes nearly split. He no longer cared whether it would make the girl recoil—he grabbed the waist of Liya, whose pretty face had also gone pale.

In an instant.

The Alchemy Core activated.

Then—

Sixtyfold Time Delay!

Ignoring the fierce burning across his back and the stabbing pain of a body on the verge of tearing apart, Muen poured mana into the Alchemy Core like a madman, wrenching Time Delay straight to its current limit.

Bones creaked; blood was squeezed from flesh pushed almost beyond its limit, turning Muen into a man drenched in red in a heartbeat. But his face was twisted, his movements unrelenting, and in that fleeting gap only this extreme Time Delay could create, he hauled Liya and retreated at full speed.

At the same time, a roar forced out from his lungs shook the clouds.

"Pink Bear—"

Boom!

The mountain forest heaved.

Beneath Muen’s feet, the dense trees parted like a tidal wave in an instant. The pink bear-shaped puppet leaped up, a massive spiked club gripped in her hand—who knew where she’d pulled it from—and she smashed it down on that enormous hand.

"Motherf— get the hell off my turf!"

Swish-la, swish-la—the sound of blood surging, as if countless streams of it were churning beneath the mascot suit. The Pink Bear roared, and blinding bloodlight burst from the spiked club.

With a crack, another clear scar was added to that palm.

"Tch."

A cold, disdainful click of the tongue sounded. The giant hand slowly withdrew, sinking into the sea of clouds.

But the Pink Bear didn’t relax in the slightest; if anything, she stood as if before a mortal enemy.

Muen hit the ground and let out a long breath, yet he still couldn’t suppress the surge of blood; he coughed up scarlet.

"Y-You’re bleeding!"

Still at a loss, Liya rushed over in a panic, Holy Light gathering in her hands. "I’ll heal you!"

"Thanks."

Feeling the warmth the Holy Light brought, Muen exhaled deeply. His gaze, cutting through the aftershock that had nearly razed the forest to the ground, locked hard onto the edge of the Forest of Doom-Bane—onto that sea of clouds that had gone still again.

In the spotless sea of white, a figure suddenly surfaced.

It was a man—an old man.

He was withered like dead wood, his eye sockets sunken, like a walking mummy. Only a ragged piece of cloth wrapped his body, reminding Muen of the kasaya monks wore in his previous life.

Yet the man’s eyes held a frightening gleam, and his skin shone with a bronzed luster. With his hands pressed together, Muen could just make out, at the edge of his fingers, a freshly added wound.

On palms already covered in scars, it was... so inconspicuous.

"Hey, you brat..."

In front of him, the Pink Bear gripped her spiked club and stared at the man, then suddenly spoke:

"Don’t tell me you’re actually one of that little bastard Aldrich’s illegitimate sons."

"Ha? Do I look like it?"

"Then tell me this—why the hell is the one who came to kill you an honest-to-god Crowned!"

The Pink Bear turned her head and shouted furiously, "That old bastard Prang never mentioned anything like this! No way—I’m charging extra, or I’m not doing it!"

"..."

"Long time no see, Oranriel."

Not far away, the old man studied the Pink Bear, a hint of reminiscence flickering in his eyes as he took the initiative to speak:

"Didn’t expect you to still be alive. Though this curled-up-in-a-mascot-suit look is truly unsightly."

"It’s you, a fossil rumored to have been dead ten years, still being alive—that’s the real surprise."

The Pink Bear’s maw tugged into a dry arc, her expression as tragic as someone having their stash of smut torn up right before their eyes. Shoulders slumped, she said:

"I really don’t want to fight an old, shameless spook like you—Ascetic of the Red-Desolation Desert, Indra King · Nanurika."

"Hand over the duke’s son behind you, and we needn’t cross hands."

Indra King smiled. "Since we’re old friends, why not make things convenient? I’ll count a third of the credit to you, and the payment will naturally be negotiable."

"Tch. I’d love to tie up this ungrateful brat and gift-wrap him for you, but I can’t. My tsundere grandniece’s temper is foul as hell—if I dump her fiancé, she’ll come after me later, and I can’t take that."

The Pink Bear narrowed her eyes. "And that brat’s dad isn’t an ordinary man. You sure you want to make a move?"

"Heh. That Lion King truly is formidable in his youth—and even his son, managing to slip my ambush just now, doesn’t seem as bad as some rumors claim."

Indra King gave Muen a deep look. "But when you take someone’s money, you must relieve them of their troubles. Besides, as you said, I’m already a dying man—why should I care about the towering waves that come after?"

"Fair point."

The Pink Bear’s expression gradually turned serious. "In that case, if I snap an old bone or two of yours in a moment, don’t blame me."

"As is fitting."

Indra King bowed.

"Please."

"Here I come!"

The Pink Bear shouted, and a terrifying aura seeped out from that ridiculous suit.

Rich bloodlight flared, dimming even the daylight by a shade. The display of might looked astounding.

"Didn’t expect the Pink Bear to actually be this fierce?"

Seeing that she showed not a hint of fear, even looking like she was steamrolling with sheer momentum, Muen blinked, unable to keep a trace of astonishment and praise from his face.

Looks like I really was judging him with tinted glasses.

I should show a bit more respect to this potential elder in the future...

"Get ready to bolt!"

Right then, the Pink Bear’s sleazy voice suddenly sounded by Muen’s ear.

"Eh?"

"Run. I’m not his match." The Pink Bear’s tone held a hint of urgency.

"...Aren’t you a Crowned of equal standing?"

"Damn it—standing equal and being able to beat someone are two different things, okay? His neck’s longer than mine; what do you want me to do about it?"

Facing the awe-inspiring Indra King, the Pink Bear’s lips curled in a contemptuous smile, looking every inch a fathomless supreme master.

But the sound-transmission to Muen told a different story.

"This Indra King is no lightweight among the Crowned. In both seniority and strength, he’s frighteningly deep. If your old man came himself, maybe it’d be fine. Me? A cute and harmless little bear like me—how could I possibly be his match? And I don’t even have a girlfriend yet—I haven’t seen enough fair white thighs—I’m not dying here!"

"..."

Muen’s mouth twitched.

Give me back my admiration, you bastard!

"We’re going!"

Since the Pink Bear put it that way, Muen didn’t hesitate in the least. He grabbed Liya’s small hand and turned to run.

"That won’t do."

Seeing this, a sharp light flashed in Indra King’s eyes. His five fingers curved slightly and, toward the direction of Muen’s escape, he snatched.

The earth suddenly shuddered—as if an invisible giant beast had raked its claws across it. Five bottomless furrows merged into a cage, racing after the fleeing Muen.

But the next instant—

Zheng!

A screech like grinding metal rang out.

The Pink Bear smashed down with her spiked club, and the invisible beast claw and the furrows were all crushed to powder. She took a great stride and stepped in front of Indra King.

"Is this really a good idea? I did say I was coming."

The spiked club swept crosswise again; bloodlight flared. Wearing a vicious grin, the Pink Bear brought it down on his head!

"Who are you looking down on, you old bastard!"

A huge, sunken crater opened beneath Indra King’s feet, like the aftermath of a meteor strike. A savage gale tore at his tattered cloth, making the old man look like a candle about to gutter out in the wind.

But his expression didn’t change in the least—still... so calm.

"It seems a peaceful means cannot resolve this matter."

The old man sighed.

He brought his five fingers together, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ clenched a fist, and, upward, struck.

Space twisted in an instant.

Then,

A resplendent coronet soared, like the rising sun descending!