"Why did you cut off his arm like that? Stop this. I can't keep looking at this anymore," Sorin pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to approach Rowan, her eyes filled with horror and concern.
Ashan raised a hand, his tone commanding and unyielding. "Don't even dare to step further. Do you think he'll recognize you in this state?"
Sorin froze, her heart pounding. "But how could you cut his arm like that? He's not doing this because he wants to," she protested, tears welling in her eyes.
"Allowing him to use his sword is pretty dangerous. Didn't you tell me back then that you can heal something like this?" Ashan countered, his gaze steady.
"But this way is too cruel," Sorin insisted, her hands shaking.
"There is no other way. He's not in a state where he can understand us. So stay far away," Ashan ordered firmly.
Rowan removed his hand from the wound, channeling mana to seal the veins and stem the blood loss.
'Woah... he's using mana to block his veins. It's hard to believe this guy is not in his right mind. I guess an S-ranker possesses strong battle instincts even in berserk mode.'
Rowan's gaze locked onto his sword, and he extended his remaining hand. The weapon, still gripped by his severed right arm, released and floated into the air, humming with lethal intent.
Whoosh... The sword shot toward Ashan's heart like a guided missile. He sidestepped swiftly, avoiding the strike. His Sharingan activated instantly, the tomoe spinning as he analyzed the threat.
'It's that ability to attack objects from a distance. It has terrifying speed too. If I'd missed by a second, it might've pierced me.'
The sword veered and lunged again. Using his Sharingan, Ashan dodged and weaved through the relentless barrage. The sword accelerated, matching his every move, blocking his path and preventing counterattacks.
'This is a headache. It won't let me do anything and blocks my way. Since this sword is so valuable, I never thought of destroying it. I'm not going to use Technique Extinguishment because it's one of my hidden cards.'
Ashan aimed two fingers at the approaching sword.
[Dismantle]
Countless invisible slashes rained down on the flying blade, eroding its form. Dismantle is the best for destroying non-living forms. In this current situation, it's the safest choice.
After a barrage of slashes, the sword shattered into pieces, clattering to the ground.
'Those slashes were enough to turn it into dust, but it held up as broken pieces. I underestimated its endurance.'
"Aaaghh…" Rowan roared, leaping at Ashan and attempting to grab his neck with his remaining hand.
Ashan's patience snapped. "Enough."
A kick infused with cursed energy slammed into Rowan's belly, crushing his internal organs. He was hurled away, crashing into the floor and creating a crater. Ashan leaped onto him, unleashing a flurry of punches aimed at Rowan's face and chest. Rowan's upper body turned crimson, and finally, he went unconscious.
Ashan ceased his assault, standing up and gazing at Rowan's limp form. "That should do it."
Sorin rushed to Rowan's side, placing her hand on his chest. A green light emanated from her palm, enveloping him in healing energy. "His insides are in a mess. You are heartless."
"Stop shouting at me and start healing him already," Ashan replied sharply.
Sorin glared furiously but closed her eyes, focusing her mana. Red bruises faded from Rowan's body as the healing took effect.
"Bring his arm here. Attaching it back is the fastest option," she instructed.
Ashan retrieved the severed arm and handed it to Sorin. Her hands trembled as she bit her lip, positioning it against the stump. As she applied her healing magic, the arm reattached seamlessly, veins and muscles knitting together.
After a few moments, Rowan's body returned to normal, but he remained unconscious. "Why isn't he waking up?" Sorin asked, worry etching her features.
Then she started to to examine him further. "It seems his mind suffered too much shock. He'll wake up after some time. We need to stay for a while."
Ashan shook his head. "That won't do. I can't wait that long. I have things to do."
"I can't take him out like this. Reporters are waiting outside until we return. If they see him like this, not only Rowan's reputation but our association's reputation will also be damaged," Sorin argued.
"You don't need to worry about that. I'll take care of it," Ashan assured her.
He snapped his fingers, and Rowan's unconscious body stood up rigidly.
Sorin's eyes widened. "Are you planning to fake his movements and fool those reporters?"
"Of course. Not only that, I'm going to make him the hero of this dungeon raid. I can do that much for him."
Rowan's body moved mechanically toward his equipment, donning it back. Karakuna's half-chopped head detached from its body and floated into Rowan's left hand.
Sorin watched in disbelief. 'Oh... If Rowan goes out like that, everyone will think he killed that monster and cleared the dungeon. But why is this man doing such a thing for him?'
She approached Ashan, her expression puzzled. "I don't understand. Why are you giving the honor of clearing this dungeon to him? It won't give you anything."
"Why not? I can avoid unwanted attention from others. So this is a win-win situation for both of us," Ashan explained calmly.
His gaze shifted to the shattered pieces of the Dragon Slayer sword. "What are we going to do about that?"
Sorin knelt before the chunks, her eyes widening in horror. 'He destroyed an S-rank weapon like it was nothing. The only sword we found so far made out of dragon bones. I don't know whether it's possible to fix it back or not. What should I say to my brother when he wakes up?'
While controlling Rowan's body, Ashan stepped closer to Sorin. "I know it's worth a fortune. I tried my best not to harm it. In the end, I couldn't."
"No need to apologize. It's not entirely your fault either. We'll bear this loss, so I won't ask anything from you," Sorin replied, her voice resigned.
"I'm happy to hear that. Then shall we go? We still have some loot to pick," Ashan suggested.
…
In front of the dungeon gate, an army of armored raiders formed a triangular formation. A woman and a man in their thirties, clad in red armor, stood at the forefront. The woman had dark circles under her eyes, her long white hair adding to her striking appearance. She glanced at her watch anxiously.
"It's been almost four hours. As our association president ordered, when the time passes four hours, we will go inside. We can't give them more time," she said, her voice edged with worry.
"Stop getting nervous, Naliya. They are S-rankers. Both of them are able to defeat an A-rank monster," the man reassured, patting her shoulder.
"I'm not worrying about the monster. It's just I suspect that masked man whose identity hasn't been revealed yet. Even though he helped our raiders yesterday, we can't fully trust him," Naliya replied, her eyes narrowing.
A shadow emerged from the dungeon entrance. The man smiled. "They're coming."
Rowan stepped out, holding Karakuna's head triumphantly. Seeing his composed demeanor, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Naliya clenched her fist. "It's Sir Rowan. I knew he would succeed in this raid."
Behind him, Ashan and Sorin followed. Sorin smiled at the crowd, waving gracefully.
"Young master and Lady Sorin, we congratulate the success of raiding this dungeon," Naliya and the man said, bowing deeply to Sorin and Rowan.
Naliya's sharp gaze locked onto Ashan as he stepped in behind them. 'There is that man.'