Trait Hoarder Novel Chapter 42: The Mutant Incident (4)

The Mutant Incident — Part 4

His body was twice the size of a normal person.

With arms as thick as a gorilla’s, grotesquely developed muscles bulging.

A massive concrete shield attached to his left arm.

In his right hand, he gripped a rusty iron shovel.

Boom, boom, boom!

Despite his size, he moved fast.

The ground shook as he charged, crushing my rifle and shotgun underfoot, the ones I had left on the ground earlier.

“Tsk!”

I barely avoided being smashed by his shield, throwing myself to the side just in ti.

It was a move aided by my [Evasion] trait.

The shield brushed past my ankle, narrowly missing it.

But I couldn’t dodge the shadow arrow that followed behind the zombie shield-bearer.

It curved mid-flight like a guided missile, slamming into my back.

Thud!

It looked like a black tennis ball, but the impact was no joke.

If an ordinary person had taken that hit, it wouldn’t have been surprising if they had broken a bone.

A flash of light exploded before my eyes as excruciating pain shot up my spine.

“Grrr!”

I let out a low groan.

Just before impact, I’d managed to activate a defensive trait set, protecting my back with a mana shield and physical defense, but it still hurt.

I clenched my teeth, forcing back tears, and focused on what was in front of .

There was still one left.

Bang!

The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out.

I instinctively dropped to the ground, flattening myself.

I wasn’t fast enough. My left shoulder flared up with a burning pain.

“Hahaha! You’re really sothing!”

A voice from the darkness cackled with laughter.

“You’ll make an excellent corpse knight! Hahaha!”

That damn bastard.

Even as I cursed under my breath, I rolled to the side.

The skeletal gunman.

He was technically a corpse, but his head and arms were fully exposed bones.

His skull and arm bones had mana circuits etched into them like tattoos.

In his hands, he held cheap handguns.

Lucky for . If he’d been packing sothing like a Desert Eagle, my shoulder would’ve been done for.

Bang bang bang!

The skeletal gunman fired wildly, tracking my every move.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

anwhile, the zombie shield-bearer continued to chase , slamming his massive concrete shield down with every step.

“Are you a maggot? Rolling around on the ground like that?”

The necromancer remained hidden in the shadows, casting spells.

Invisible curses and shadow arrows silently flew toward , smacking

hard.

“Urgh!”

I could resist the curses thanks to my [Curse Resistance] trait, but I had no answer for the shadow arrows.

After being hit a few more tis, I coughed up blood.

It was fortunate that the zombie shield-bearer and skeletal gunman were hastily made minions from whatever was scavenged from this first landfill site.

If the necromancer had brought a carefully crafted minion or a Level 3 mutant, I would’ve been finished here.

‘There’s got to be a way.’

I kept thinking, even as I spat out blood.

There was one cardinal rule when dealing with a mage, especially a necromancer-type superhuman.

Never fight the minions.

You have to kill the mage directly.

The voice had been coming from the sa direction for a while now. I was getting a sense of the distance. Even the shadow arrows were flying from there.

If I used a combination of [Leap] and [Dash], I could reach him.

But I couldn’t just charge blindly.

The necromancer must’ve set up plenty of trap spells around himself.

He was probably waiting for

to jump in.

He must’ve seen

leap and dash while fighting the specters earlier, right?

‘There’s a way…’

Yes, there is.

I twisted my lips into a grin.

Imdiately after, I activated [Leap] and shot into the air.

“Where do you think you’re going!”

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

Just as expected, a volley of shadow arrows ca flying at .

I reflexively activated my mana shield.

The arrows hamred into it, rattling my entire body.

“Guh!”

Once I was airborne, there was no way to dodge them.

I didn’t hear the impacts so much as feel them in my bones.

The pain was so intense that my mind went blank for a mont, but I gritted my teeth and held on.

Eyes wide open, I descended toward my target.

The skeletal gunman who had been firing at

from a distance.

“Kieeek!”

The skeletal gunman let out a screech, but didn’t retreat.

He gripped his handgun in reverse, ready to strike back at .

Mana circuits on his skull and arm bones flared up like glowing tattoos.

I swung my sword down at him mid-air.

This wasn’t so grand leap attack.

After all, my real goal wasn’t to take down the skeletal gunman.

Crash!

The gun in his hand shattered.

But my holy sword was blocked, and I was knocked to the ground.

I landed on my feet, right in front of the skeletal gunman.

He skillfully pulled out a fresh handgun and started firing wildly again.

Bang bang bang bang!

I ducked to avoid the shots, but ti was slipping away.

Boom boom boom boom!

The zombie shield-bearer was already right behind , closing the distance with each heavy stomp.

Creak!

At the sa ti, my shadow sprang to life and tightly bound

in place.

So this was the trap.

It was the infamous [Shadow Hand], a crowd control spell known for being one of the most notorious dark magic techniques.

“Heh, die!”

The necromancer sneered as he launched a dark spear in my direction.

The skeletal gunman finished reloading and aid his gun at .

Behind , the zombie shield-bearer raised his massive concrete shield high above his head, ready to smash it down.

To anyone watching, it looked like a hopeless situation.

But I was smirking.

Click.

In my hand was a grenade.

I had barely used any grenades while fighting the specters earlier.

And now I had already pulled the pin.

“Die yourself, you idiot.”

Thud.

The grenade dropped to the ground.

Swoosh!

A strange noise filled the air as a gray flash spread out like rippling bubbles of mana energy.

For a mont, there was silence.

The skeletal gunman, the zombie shield-bearer—they all froze.

Even the mana circuits etched into their bones and skin flickered, unstable.

I spat out blood.

The once-steady flow of mana through my body had been forcibly cut off.

“You, you!”

The necromancer’s panicked shout echoed in the distance.

I had tid it perfectly.

Even the dark spear flying toward

had been caught in the mana wave and dissolved.

This was a sealing grenade.

The natural enemy of all mages and artificial magical lifeforms.

If the necromancer had taken precautions against it, I might have fallen into my own trap.

But there was no way he had equipped his hastily made minions with anti-sealing asures.

Click.

I pulled the pin on another grenade.

This ti, I aid forward.

As I threw it, the necromancer roared in frustration.

“You think I’d fall for such a toy?”

He was trying to do sothing, the ominous ripple of his mana spreading through the air.

But he was wrong.

This one wasn’t a sealing grenade.

Flash!

A brilliant light exploded.

The world shook, and a piercing ringing filled my head.

But I was far enough away to endure it.

It was a flashbang.

A satisfying scream followed.

“Ugh! You bastard!”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t fully incapacitated.

No surprise there.

In the sudden burst of light, I caught a glimpse of the necromancer—he was wearing a helt, goggles, and a gas mask.

But other than that, I didn’t see any special equipnt.

The only unusual thing was the bulky wrist guard on his right wrist.

It was probably doubling as his magic staff.

Click. Click. Click.

This was my last chance.

I grabbed every grenade I had left and tossed them all.

I was practically a human bomber at this point.

Or a walking grenade launcher.

Fragntation grenades, flashbangs, sealing grenades—I threw them all without hesitation.

Boom! Boom! Crash! Flash! Swoosh!

“Argh! Aaargh!”

The necromancer flailed, trying to ward off the barrage.

The magic traps he’d set around himself went off one by one, turning back into raw mana.

His defensive spells layered over one another in real-ti.

A wall of debris rose, bone walls multiplied, a swirling red mana barrier ford, and layers of dark shields overlapped to protect him.

Creak, creak.

The sealing grenade’s effects were starting to wear off.

The zombie shield-bearer and the skeletal gunman were beginning to regain their movent.

This was my only chance.

I sprinted forward.

Holy sword in hand, I charged.

No leap, no dash, no sprinting trait—just my legs and my body moving as fast as they could.

The necromancer saw

coming and twisted his face in frustration.

“You… you bastard!”

The explosions and flashes had stopped.

The sealing wave had faded, but the necromancer had managed to hold his ground.

He grit his teeth and raised his right hand.

The wrist guard on his right arm glowed red-hot, spewing out streams of mana.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

He unleashed another barrage of shadow arrows, this ti creating a veritable wall of projectiles.

There were so many that they ford a literal wall between us.

To dodge them, I’d have to take a detour.

But if I did that, the necromancer would have ti to prepare another spell.

I clenched my lower lip hard.

Blood filled my mouth, the tallic taste spreading across my tongue.

I was dizzy, on the verge of losing consciousness, but I kicked off the ground even harder.

There was no retreat.

No dodging.

There was only one option.

Endure it with my body and break through!

“Uraaaaaa!”

I didn’t even bother using my mana shield.

I couldn’t afford to waste a single trait slot on defense.

I just plowed through with my body.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The sound of arrows slamming into my flesh echoed as my body jerked and twisted from the impact, but I ignored it.

I swallowed the pain, forced it down into my stomach.

I turned the agony, the suffering, into fuel and pushed forward.

Fueled by nothing but hatred and rage, all I wanted was to rip that necromancer apart with my bare hands!

“Ugh!”

The necromancer grunted.

His posture shifted, becoming more serious.

Gone was the smug, playful attitude—he was finally treating

like a real threat.

He stood up straight.

His arms crossed over his chest.

From the wrist guard on his right hand and the ring on his left index finger, dark mana began to coil, swirling together.

Then, like a storm, waves of dark magic rushed at !

A wall of darkness rose to block my path.

Tentacles of shadow reached out to bind .

Shadow arrows rained down like machine gun fire.

Dark lightning zigzagged across the air, tearing through space.

A shadow whip lashed out with brutal force.

“Graaah!”

This ti, even I couldn’t hold back a scream.

Arrows struck , lightning seared my flesh, the whip left long, burning scars.

The pain was unbearable.

But it was the tentacles and the wall that finally stopped

in my tracks.

I was trapped.

The necromancer let out a sinister laugh.

“Kuh kuh kuh, after all that, this is how it ends?”

He lifted his hands as if in prayer, the dark mana coalescing into a massive orb.

A vortex of black energy swirled, with crimson flas flickering within.

At that mont, I realized the necromancer’s true identity.

[R. Charon]

One of the three Directors of the Cleaner Association.

He was preparing his ultimate technique, Darkfire.

A spell that, once cast, would engulf everything in front of him in pure, devastating dark mana.

For a brief mont, I was tempted.

The [Berserker Glasses] in my pocket.

The [Mutant] trait buried deep within my subconscious.

Maybe it was ti to use them.

‘Not yet.’

I had to stay rational.

Charon’s appearance ant that the Cleaner Association’s linked quest had been triggered.

And when I thought about the entity I would face at the end of it, I had to save Berserker and Mutant for later.

Besides…

I wasn’t in the final corner just yet.

Things were dangerous and precarious, sure, but there was still a way out!

“Uraaaaaa!”

I roared and lifted my arm.

I gathered every last drop of my mana and strength.

I pushed my mana core to the limit. With my left hand, I summoned every ounce of power from the [Toughness] trait.

I activated every warrior trait I could—[Endurance], [Strength], everything.

Creak!

The shadow tentacles snapped.

My holy sword dug into the wall of darkness, and as the [Black Fla] flared up, it lted away the mana that ford the wall.

Charon clicked his tongue.

“Tch, you managed to break through?”

He paused his spellcasting for a mont and waved his hand.

Another barrage of dark magic—five spells, all at once.

“Graaaah!”

I dodged them more easily this ti.

Thanks to the [Dark Resistance] trait I had picked up without realizing it from enduring all those dark magic attacks earlier.

“Huff, huff!”

I had only closed about half the distance.

But I was too late.

Charon let out a triumphant laugh.

“It’s over! Holy Knight, why don’t you get on your knees and pray to your god? Who knows? Maybe they’ll co down and save you!”

Charon raised both hands.

Flas flared up, blazing wildly.

The intense heat spread in all directions, but at the center, it compressed into a dark, fla-like sphere.

It was one of the most destructive Level 3 dark magic spells, but it required an absurd amount of mana and a long casting ti, which made it rare to see.

Charon thrust his hands forward.

The flas were unleashed. Waves of darkness, like a wall of black fire, surged toward .

This was the mont I’d been waiting for.

I raised my holy sword.

My mind had never been clearer.

All the pain, all the agony, disappeared.

All I could see was fire, all I could feel was heat, but strangely, I was calm.

As if I had lived my entire life for this very mont.

I swapped my traits.

[Mountain Breaking Sword Art], [One Point]

[Einherjar Cultivation Technique], [Mana Core]

[Dash], [Strength]

I knew exactly what was coming.

When the final attack of a boss-level enemy is bearing down on you.

When a warrior-class superhuman has all the right traits—sword, mana, and body perfectly in sync.

What happens?

What result do you achieve?

I knew the answer well.

Too well.

I dashed forward.

The holy sword glead with sharp energy, and my gloves, hungry for blood, let out a satisfied hum.

My necklace had been flickering with light since a while ago.

The Darkfire struck .

It scorched , burned , tried to reduce

to ash.

But it didn’t matter.

My tracksuit caught fire, my protective suit started to lt, my skin burned so badly that my nerves scread in agony—but I didn’t register any of it.

All I felt was the overwhelming euphoria, the lava-hot thrill, as I surged forward, my body and mind fully surrendered to it.

At the end of my gaze, there was only my sword.

Only my mana.

And the light ford by the union of sword and mana.

Flash!

When did it happen?

The mont when the light burst forth.

When the brilliant light of mana cut through the world.

A sword qi.

In trait terms, [Flash].

A finishing blow, a true ultimate move that pierced through Charon.

–TL Notes–

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