Chapter 34: A Dire Situation and a Spark of Defiance

Reading the grim future in Lorian’s sticky gaze, I frantically scanned my surroundings for a way out of this bleak situation.

But the more I looked, the darker my expression grew.

As always, things were not looking good.

The theocracy’s combat forces.

Unlike the Apostle of the evil god, which required every trick in the book just to escape, these enemies could be defeated with straightforward tactics.

The difficulty had dropped significantly.

Yet, ironically, it felt higher than ever.

The reason?

“…Fighting’s out of the question.”

The party was in no condition to fight after the grueling battle with the Apostle.

If we’d been even slightly better off, I could’ve crushed that crazy woman’s arrogance, but continuing now would mean certain defeat.

“What do we do?”

I sighed heavily at yet another trial.

Lately, it felt like this damn world was constantly testing my limits.

Overthinking? A coincidence?

But how could I not feel this way?

There’s no way it’s a coincidence that one grueling ordeal is followed immediately by another.

I wanted to scream “I give up.”

But the penalty for giving up was too steep.

Death or becoming a doormat.

For a test of limits, isn’t the consequence of failure a bit too extreme?

The reward for success? Just survival.

As stress-induced headaches loomed, I shook my head slowly to regain my calm.

“That’s not what’s important now.”

The priority was escaping to the north or central regions, whatever it took.

Shifting my gaze from the unhelpful elves, I looked back at the party.

My eyes landed on Carl, who seemed the least battered.

“Why’re you staring at me like that? It’s creepy.”

Grumbling with a sour expression, Carl prompted a cautious question from me with a smile.

“Can you still fight a bit?”

“You think I can? Look at this arm and tell me.”

He showed me his trembling right arm, incredulous.

His enraged arm muscles seemed to yell at me.

To be fair, he’d tanked most of the Apostle’s aggro alone, so lasting this long was impressive.

But a shame’s a shame.

I gazed at him with lingering regret, lost in thought.

If I could just trigger his awakening, we could solve this shitty situation in one go. Is there a way to do that?

As the theocracy’s forces tightened their encirclement, I quickly recalled the original story’s details about Carl’s growth.

Soon, I remembered his awakening trigger.

Carl’s trigger was desire.

Overcoming or fulfilling a desire would awaken him.

“Phew.”

Relieved to know the condition, my face soon hardened.

Wait.

His desire… is me right now.

So, I’d have to wiggle my hips and flirt to trigger his awakening?

“Fuck.”

Imagining that scene, I cursed and squeezed my eyes shut.

I have to do this humiliating thing?

Something that’d haunt my nightmares isn’t enough—it has to happen now?

I wanted to find another way, but time was running out.

I had to decide.

Swallow my pride and awaken him?

Or get dragged to the theocracy and face all sorts of horrors?

As usual, the decision wasn’t long.

Yeah, getting passed around by strangers is worse than being taken by someone I at least know.

If getting eaten is inevitable, better it’s someone familiar!

Steeling myself, I approached Carl and whispered softly.

“Carl? I know it’s a long shot, but if you can clear a path…”

“…”

“I’ll grant you one wish. Even naughty ones.”

He closed his eyes silently, then nodded with a grin.

“Let’s give it a shot.”

Gripping his greatsword, he charged toward the encirclement.

Crunch!

“Argh!”

Crushing another paladin, he surged forward.

I lost count of how many.

Not that I cared to keep track.

Why bother when I could think about the wish Beatrice would grant?

Unleashing my rising power, I pressured the theocracy’s forces.

“Back off now, and you won’t get hurt too badly.”

Normally, I wouldn’t dare defy this den of lunatics head-on.

Pissing them off makes life exhausting.

It’s like avoiding shit not because it’s scary but because it’s filthy.

But this time, things were different.

Beatrice promised to grant a wish! Even a naughty one!

Who’s Beatrice?

A woman who growls if you get too close, always drawing lines and keeping her distance.

Her offering to grant any wish was an opportunity.

A chance to force my way through that narrow gap—maybe my last one.

I wasn’t about to let it slip, so I had to defeat these religious freaks.

Who cares if life gets tough?

When the woman you’re crushing on offers a wish, only an idiot would refuse.

Blasting aura and intimidating the theocracy’s forces, the worst of them stepped forward confidently.

The woman wearing a “saint candidate” badge, who’d declared she’d steal the woman I’d marked.

Instinctively, I unleashed an aura blade at her, annoyed. She blocked it easily and smiled.

“Why does this brother block the theocracy’s path? You’ll regret this. I’ll let it slide once—move.”

“Would you move? A man’s got times he can’t back down. This is one of them.”

“Foolish. I offered mercy, but you’re this stubborn.”

“Ha, when someone promises to grant a wish—even a naughty one—for breaking through, of course I’m a fool. Oh, and it includes that!”

“…Let’s negotiate. I’ll take that deal instead. You live, I have fun with the witch. Win-win, right?”

“No way! That’s no win-win—it’s all loss for me. And you know what?”

Pointing at the witch, I radiated killing intent at the insolent woman.

“I marked her first. Who do you think you are, eyeing someone else’s woman?”

“Pfft, you’re not even dating, let alone flirting. ‘Someone else’s woman’?”

“I’m just getting to know her. But you? You won’t even reach that stage.”

Taunting her smug reply with mockery, she grinned and gave an unthinkable response.

“Why bother getting to know her?”

“What?”

“After thorough, intimate atonement… you learn everything about each other. The witch will be no different. Like other heretics—no, penitents—she’ll end up loving me.”

“A saint candidate like this? The theocracy’s future is doomed.”

“Blasphemy warrants beheading, but I’ll let it slide for now. Your head’s about to roll anyway.”

“We’ll see who’s rolling.”

Radiating fighting spirit, I gripped my greatsword and spoke.

“I won’t lose. Not in this fight, at least.”

Too much was at stake.

The wish from Beatrice? Sure, that’s part of it.

But—

“As a man, what’s more humiliating than losing the one you love to another woman?”

Above all, that was the biggest reason.

I’d charge an invincible foe foaming at the mouth to protect Beatrice, and lose her to this* lunatic?

Beatrice is—

The kind of woman you fall for at first sight.

I’ve called her “trouble” countless times, but she’s the only one I’d say I “fell for.”

To have my first love stolen?

I shook my head.

I’d rather die than give up.

If surrender’s on the table, I’d rather die honorably.

At least in the underworld, I won’t be a laughingstock.

“A man who loses his love to another woman is a bigger fool than one who dies gloriously protecting her.”

Facing the radiant army, I curled my lips into a smirk.

“Come on, you damn zealots.”

This is—

Your graveyard.