I take a step forward, carefully avoiding a pool of infected poison. The water hisses under my feet, as if warning me.
I catch the moment when another root rises, and, ducking under it, I find myself right at the base, where the roots connected to the body of Nemorino as if to its spine.
With one precise movement, I drive the dagger [Sleeping Scarlet] into this place.
The metal enters with a nasty sound, as if cutting through living flesh. Steam and thick green ooze, smelling of sulfur, gushes from the wound.
The roots pull back as if in agony, shuddering, and release Elk.
He falls into the water, coughing and trying to catch his breath. Aka-32 immediately pulls him by the shoulder, dragging him to the wall.
—Great, Disava, you found a weak spot!
Zikei shouted, but I didn't respond.
I just stood there, staring at the steaming dagger blade, feeling every cell in my body buzzing with tension.
Nemmorino's eyes, which had been slightly closed, slowly opened, revealing a new shade of green.
He realized who had struck his body. And now all this rotting horror was focused on me.
The Swamp Boar, Nemmorino, let out a guttural roar, not just a sound, but something between a cry and a death throe. Its throat split, as if two entities were arguing over who had the right to speak. The air trembled, and even the thick swamp began to pulse in response to its suffering.
—I didn't want to be a monster... I didn't want to upset Maraina!
These words pierced me. They sounded too human to come from a monster.
A soft light suddenly flared in my hand, and Nemorrino's collar, covered in mud and roots, responded to his cry.
The metal trembled as if it could feel its master's heartbeat. The dull runes, barely visible beneath the dirt, glowed with a swampy light, revealing the words.
[Emotional Resonance: 64%]
[Detected: Link between the Beast and the Source of Anger]
( The collar... Perhaps he's still connected to him. We shouldn't kill him... maybe we can tame him? )
The thought pierced my mind like a flash, bold, almost insane. But inside, somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, it was as if someone had agreed with me.
At that moment, the swamp shuddered.
The roots of Nemmorino began to move faster, more frantically, as if they had realized that their connection to Nemmorino was being severed. They struck the ground, creating muddy fountains and tearing off chunks of moss.
I barely had time to dodge! Every step was difficult, and the debuff [Weight of Metal] hung on my body like chains, making my muscles ache.
I jumped over the roots, rolled, and crouched, feeling the air vibrate with the giant's movements.
One of them caught me, leaving a thin line of pain across my arm, red like a brand.
—This is not the time for pity!
I exhaled through my teeth, activating a short burst of energy.
Elk let out a desperate roar, fending off the roots, while Zikei covered the flank, but even their attacks were barely holding back the onslaught.
—Disava! What is she up to?! He shouted so that I could hear him, but unfortunately I couldn't, as I dodged the tentacle-like appendages.
Roots shoot out of the floor like whips. Aka-32 puts up a shield, but she's pulled into the mud for a moment, and she growls, pushing back with her whole body:
—I'm holding on, don't get too close!
Nemmorino takes a step, but stumbles, as if something inside is breaking his movements.
The axes tremble in his hands. I seize the moment and lunge to the left, leaving a quick cut.
"It's as if I'm not cutting a monster... but something that has already died and is merely moving out of habit."
In the next moment, I stopped moving, trying to figure out how to get close. I stood like a frozen figure in a world that was drowning in chaos.
My breathing became steady, and my eyes were as clear as ice. Even as the ground beneath my feet pulsed and the swamp shook with the monster's roar, I did not panic.
—I see the rhythm...
I said, almost in a whisper, more to myself than to anyone else.
—He breathes four breaths and one spasm. On the fifth stroke... he always raises his left axe.
I watched every movement of Nemorino's. Even his breathing was mechanical, like a creature whose lungs had long been replaced by roots.
Each breath was accompanied by a soft squelching sound, as if something beneath the ground was trying to draw in air, but instead it was drawing in dirt and pain.
Nemmorino plunged both axes into the ground. The swamp shook as if from an earthquake.
The voice that came from his chest was rough and broken, as if it belonged to a man who had been buried beneath the swamp for a long time. "Rotting Reach!"
Immediately after these words, the air exploded with Nemmorino's spinning. The roots struck the ground, creating a cloud of spores and ash.
The torches flickered and went out one by one, leaving only a thick black darkness.
Elk was breathing heavily, disoriented, his steps uncertain, as if he were walking on someone else's body.
Aka-32 struggled to stay on her feet, the viscous sludge drawing her in, as if it wanted to hide her under a layer of rot.
Zikei was blinded by the spores, his eyes stung, and he only swung his katana at random, feeling the roots move around him.
I stood still, feeling the ground tremble beneath me with every breath.
Every vibration, every jolt, was transmitted to the feet, up the legs, into the spine, and from there directly to the heart.
— Zikei! Turn him toward the roots, not toward us!
I shouted into the darkness, my voice like a whip crack!
— Elk! Don't push your luck. Wait for the third breath!
In response, there was a muffled growl and the sound of metal. Zikei, almost blindly, made a lunge, trying to throw the monster off balance.
Elk covered in mud, dropped to one knee, counting its breaths like heartbeats.
And just as Nemmorino was raising his axe on the third breath, the Elk silently appeared under his ribs, delivering a series of blows with his spear. At that moment, Rotting Swing lost its power.
The roots around Nemmorino began to grow upward, not attacking but supporting him, and he raised his head, speaking coherently again:
—I... remember the smell of apples, and I would like to taste them again!
It was not the monster's voice, but the voice of the little pig he had been in the past, a little pink piglet.
Aka-32 flinches at the sound of the voice and lowers his shield an inch. Zikei freezes, as if it would be a betrayal to strike him.
I'm the only one moving, as I can't hear what's happening well. Nemmorino takes another breath, this time through pain.
—She called me... Scarecrow, I ran and laughed...
The roots around him trembled slightly, as if they were crying with him.
—And then, this poison entered me..
His voice breaks, turning into a moan, as if his heart is remembering that it has died.
—I didn't want to... be the pain... I hit her!!"
He looked directly at the group, but not with the eyes of a beast. But with the eyes of a being who knows his guilt.
—Kill me while I still remember her name...