CHAPTER 247: MADDENING LAUGHTER

As the life of the beast vanished, its body stopped trembling, and Axel huffed loudly, slightly out of breath. After a minute or so, he began carving out the core from it. He didn’t need to sell the body of the beast; he could use it to make some weapon or accessories later on. But the core had another use, so he needed to carve it out from the beast.

As he was done with that, he brought out a vial of potion from his space ring with a mental command. He started to gulp down the potion to recover his mana, 30% was just too little; he was barely even supplying the sword with his mana, and that alone finished all of his reserves. He couldn’t empower his magic circuits, nor his runic eyes, nor his runic weapons.

But just as he finished drinking half of potion within the vial, his awareness peaked, his instincts warned him of an imminent danger, in a fraction of a second he noticed an incoming projectile coming towards, a black arrow, he hurriedly pulled his head backwards, and the arrow hit the vial of potion, the transparent glass bottle broke apart into countless pieces.

Some fragments of it scratched his face, since the bottle was right on his mouth; thankfully, he closed his eyes at the right moment, otherwise things would have become even more perilous. While his eyes were closed, Axel focused all of his attention on his other senses, even though those senses were weakened because of his current state. Even the skills Energy Sense or Mana Sense were off currently.

Unfortunately, his ears could not pick up even the sound of the wind. Yet, his instincts screamed danger again. More arrows were coming. He ran forward, his eyes wide open, jumped up, and dove downwards, twisting his body into multiple awkward angles as arrows rained down from almost all directions at once. Because too much light was assaulting his vision, and the arrows weren’t even making the slightest sound as they moved through the air. He couldn’t see or hear the sound of the incoming arrows. And it was only the demon bloodlines’ innate instincts that saved him from being skewered alive by the arrows.

Not only that, the most concerning part was perhaps that he actually felt a sense of danger from the damn black arrows, which is why he was simply trying to dodge instead of merely deflecting them with his sword. How could those arrows make him feel slightly threatened? He didn’t understand, nor did he have the time to think about it.

As time passed, more arrows started coming at him, from more uncomfortable angles and in numbers. So, he had no choice but to use his sword and deflect the arrows; he couldn’t even use his mana. He just drank half of the vial of potions, and he needed to drink at least three vials to regenerate the complete pool of his mana. And only when the complete pool of his mana was recovered could he use that 30% again.

And the archers were far enough away that he wasn’t able to see them completely. He was also a bit tired from killing the Morphine Tiger beast. In a known eventuality, some of the arrows did manage to hit him, and a sense of greater pain and weakness spread through his body; he could feel it.

He uttered, almost out of breath, "Poison?"

His face turned ugly. What kind of poison could affect him so badly? He should be almost immune to any poison, as a holder of the demon bloodline. His body became sluggish, and his already abnormal state, in which he had virtually no energy to protect his internals, started to malfunction further. But he held on and continued to block and deflect the arrows with all of his willpower; his body was protesting against all of his effort with every fiber of its power.

The arrows also began to decrease, but not before his collapse. As more arrows hit him, the more poison began to accumulate and break down his internals. Dark reddish blood came out of his eyes, mouth, and nose. He dropped to his knees, his body unable to function anymore. Gritting his teeth hard enough almost to shatter them, he gasped loudly, his eyes turning dark. He was gazing down, struggling to stay awake, on all four limbs.

This time, a few more arrows came and pierced his back, his hands, and even his legs. But Axel had almost lost all touch sensitivity on his body at this point. Though his body still reacted to that injury even more badly, as he vomited a mouthful of dark blood.

Even breathing felt extremely tough at that moment. His vision continued to darken; the disgusting light illuminating his eyesight began to dim. At least that part felt a bit good, to finally have the blinding light turned off in his eyes. His only sense that was perhaps working somewhat properly was his hearing, as his mind was on the brink of collapse; he could hear multiple footsteps coming closer, and they weren’t subtle about it either.

Walking boldly in triumphant steps, his ambushers came into his sight, though he wasn’t able to see correctly, but their steps grew louder and louder and louder. He tried his best to keep his mind focused, and he made a mental calculation with considerable effort. There were likely 20 or more Seekers that were coming towards him, all in peak first phase.

Ah-ha-ha-HA! Ah-ha-ha-HA! Ah-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA! Ah-HA-HA-HA—HA! Ah-ha-ha-HA!

A maddening laughter filled with glee and contempt resounded in the surroundings. It was like the laughter of a madman filled with fury and pleasure, willing to do anything and everything to kill his target, no matter what. All the footsteps halted in their tracks, and only one continued to grow louder, so did the infuriating laughter, almost like the beat of the drum, as if announcing the arrival of the grim reaper, signaling the presence of his arbiter of death.

And Axel recognized that voice very well, how could he not, after all, it was the voice of one of those very people who Axel Nomrad hated most in this world, the son of the very woman who caused the death of his mother, the voice of KEN DUSKER.